Eyes? Non-responsive. No, they could just be closed. They hurt, though, like she had bumped into a… painful thing.
Ears? She found she could flick them when she thought about it. They felt weird. They seemed not to be functional either. Unless there were no sounds to hear. Ears are for sound. This seemed correct.
Something smelled strange. It smelled like comfort. She felt her chest rise and fall. Breathing. That felt good. Breathing was welcome.
She could move her jaw. Not very far though. She ground her teeth slowly. They were flat. Is that right?
Move.
…You must move.
…
…How do I… move…?
She wanted to open her eyes. Perhaps she should start with that? But they hurt. She closed her eyelids tighter, then slowly, gradually, tried to pry them open.
The world was difficult to discern, but there were shapes, and colours. She could see, but she felt like there should have been more detail.
The nagging sensation was called ‘dizzy’, she decided. Her eyes felt heavy, so she let them fall shut. It was too much effort.
Maybe moving can wait.
…
I’m missing something…
…
Shapes
…
Concepts
…
Colours
…
Voices
…
…
Feeling.
It must have a name.
…
I must move!
Thoughts rushed back to her.
She heard a noise. It sounded like air, but it had an association that set her on edge.
Her eyes opened this time, but she was distracted by a strange sensation, a moving, crawling, all over…
She blinked and looked down. It appeared that what she was feeling was her own body moving, the muscles in her fore and back limbs pulling on command, and a weight against her back. Why did her own body surprise her?
And why didn’t she recognise it?
Information.
The stranger lifted her head slightly. There wasn’t much light. She was lying down on a comfortable thing, firm yet soft against her side. It was a nice place to lie down. There was a thin sheet covering her, up to her neck. That too was comfortable. Was she to hide underneath it, such that she couldn’t be seen?
No, maybe that was silly.
She could see her forelegs as she brought them out from under the sheet. They were hard at the bottom, good for walking on. There was a short coat of fur over them. The fur was a nice green. She thought it was nice. It reminded her of… green things.
Hmm…
Trees, perhaps?
Was she… No, she wasn’t a tree. That felt wrong, somehow.
Perhaps she should find a tree, in order to compare herself with its leaves.
Looking around, she saw that she was in a room. Was this where she belonged? The room did not appear to be familiar. There was a wooden box, carved and painted a soft cream, and it looked like it was designed to be opened. Drawers, perhaps. And a table beside it, with some things on it. And there in the corner, a big box that went up to the ceiling. This box had two doors on the front. This one wasn’t painted, and it looked like it had been carved differently. The handles didn’t match the handles of the drawers. Perhaps that didn’t matter.
Words flitted in and out of her mind like moths in the night, few staying for very long. Bed. She was in a bed. Bed room. A room with a bed. Her bedroom? It made sense, but she didn’t recognise it.
She didn’t recognise anything.
She found that her limbs obeyed when she commanded them, pushing herself up into a better position. As she controlled her breathing, she took stock of the room. The walls and floor looked hard, like smooth, flat rock, though most of the floor was covered in a soft carpet. None of what she had seen appeared familiar to her. There was nothing in her memory.
Nothing to remember.
She didn’t even remember herself.
She sat upright, trying to squash the panic building within her. Who was she? Why couldn’t she remember anything?
I have to… What do I have to do?
Taking an unsteady breath, she looked around. “Hello...?” she murmured half-heartedly.
I… guess that’s what my voice sounds like.
Turning, she noticed a window behind her. Some light was coming in. But not much. Not daytime, but not night. She could see the branches of a nearby tree, and the wall of a building just behind it.
The window looked like it wasn’t made to be opened.
Deciding it was time to go, she climbed out from under the sheet, and onto the floor. Her legs, ending with hooves, hit the carpet, and she stood without trouble. She watched her forelegs with doubt as she took a few test steps, but found that walking came to her pretty easily.
Opposite the window was a door, and on the adjacent wall was another door. One of them must be the way out.
As she walked, she noticed that on the other side of the wall behind the table was another room, and inside the room…
No, that’s a mirror. And I guess… that’s me?
There was a creature in the mirror looking back out at her in surprise. The word came to her as she stepped up to it.
Pony.
There were two feathered masses on the reflection’s back, which appeared to shift when she thought of them.
P… Pe-… gasus?
…
I am a pegasus.
Turning this way and that, she took in her image. She saw a pegasus mare with an olive-green coat, and a darker forest-green mane and tail. Both were unruly. She liked the eyes, each a deep golden colour. She had wings resting strangely against her back, but she didn’t open them, they felt comfortable closed. Bringing a hoof up to her chin, she contemplated her face, trying different angles. It was a nice face, she decided, but she couldn’t place if she had ever seen it before.
It was a strange thought to consider.
Taking one last look, as if to commit the image to memory, she turned to the two doors. The closest door pushed open freely into a sparsely-decorated small bathroom. Not what she was after.
The air in the room seemed to turn that bit colder, when she tried the handle for the second door and found that it wouldn’t open.
The pegasus started pacing nervously, noticing just how hard the floor was beneath the carpet. Dare she call out again? Should she knock? Her wings fluttered. The words bedroom and lock seemed to associate well, but it made somewhat more sense for the lock to be on the inside. If it’s on the outside, then that implies that she’s not the only thing here. There must be someone on the other side of the door to have locked it, and they must have had a reason to lock her inside.
Unless… Silly, maybe the door is just jammed!
She almost laughed nervously to herself as she tried the handle again. This time pushing harder against the door, but there was still barely any give, especially in the middle, around where the handle was. Her breaths coming faster, she tried ramming her shoulder against it.
The door would not open.
Terror started to set in as the mare backed away from the door, her eyes flitting from one object to the next. The bathroom had no window, but maybe if she broke the one behind her bed, she should be able to get out through there.
Hurrying to the window, she looked outside. Her room backed onto a courtyard. There were a few trees and bushes and flower beds, but the whole area was enclosed. In every direction she could see brick walls, and a few more windows, though nothing of note behind them. She could see the darkening sky as she looked up, but there was no telling where this place was. No horizon, no hills, no landscape to memorise. A fly crawled up the glass.
Then there was a knock at the door.
The mare yelped in surprise, jumping up onto the bed. Her heavy wings had opened, but the ceiling was too low. She looked frantically around, trying to find somewhere to go.
“Hi, are you up?” came a cheerful, if restrained voice, muffled behind the door.
The mare abandoned words, just vocalising in response, “Ahh!” She was glancing between the door and the wardrobe, wondering if she could jump and hide on top of it.
“I’m coming in, okay?” The voice behind the door was soft, but it set her on edge. It was a question, but it didn’t want an answer.
As the door opened, the pegasus quickly backed up on the bed as far into the corner of the room as she could, one forehoof against the wall as if to climb it.
Peeking around the door was powder-pink unicorn, also a mare. She had a disarming smile, her eyes partially hidden behind a yellow and orange mane. A strange look crossed her face briefly as their eyes met. The only thing which kept the pegasus in place was the lack of malice coming from the intruder. She was… concerned?
“Hey, how are we feeling?” she asked gently, stepping into the room.
The pegasus blinked. She didn’t have any words to offer. She had lots of feelings, but she wasn’t sure how to categorise them.
“…Uh-,” she responded after a moment.
The intruder seemed even more concerned. She raised a hoof, gesturing, “Alright, take your time. It’s okay.”
This isn’t what… What did I expect?
“…I- I feel…” the pegasus started, hesitating at the sound of her voice. It sounded too close by. “…Many… feelings.”
“That’s okay,” said the unicorn with an encouraging smile. “What sort of feelings? Good ones, bad ones?”
“Guh… Bad ones.” Why am I responding? “Lost. …I feel lost.” She raised her head slightly. “Where am I? Who am I?”
The unicorn’s expression softened. What was that, reluctance? “Um, come and have a seat,” she said, stepping closer to and patting the bed.
The pegasus blinked, still standing on the pillows. “I will stand.”
“Sure thing,” the unicorn nodded. “Can I ask how much you can remember?”
“I… Nothing,” she said, frowning. It wasn’t like the dream; floating further out of reach the more it was thought about. Try as hard as she might, there didn’t seem to be any memories for her to reach toward.
“Okay.” The intruder looked her in the eye. “You’re here because there was an accident. You were hurt, I’m sorry to say. Particularly,” she tapped the side of her head. “Honey, you have amnesia.”
Amn- … An accident? But then…
“So we’ve brought you here just for the time being,” the unicorn continued. She raised a pink hoof to her chest. “My name’s Lemony, I’ll be around to help you!”
Lemony… Unfamiliar name.
“So,” the pegasus started haltingly, “do I know you? Do you know me? Who… am I?”
“Hah, I guess… that’s for you to decide! No, we haven’t met before.”
“But what-”
“Ap ap ap!” Lemony interrupted, pointing a hoof. “I know you must have a lot of questions, all in good time, I promise you. Just, for now, you’re gonna need to take it easy, alright?” She gestured at the window. “It’s getting a little late, so let’s pick this up again tomorrow, okay?”
I… suppose… The pegasus didn’t respond. Answers seemed more pressing than what the time of day happened to be.
“Hold on!” Lemony trotted out through the door, then returned pushing a small trolley with her hooves. On it was a sandwich, a whole orange, and a glass of water. “Thought you might want something to keep you going.”
Food… Eat food. Makes sense.
“I’m not hungry.” She was hungry, she noticed begrudgingly, but she didn’t have the appetite.
“That’s okay,” said Lemony, seemingly unphased. “I’ll just leave this here for later then!”
If I kick off from the wall, I could push the trolley into her and get to the door before she could…
“Well, goodnight! I’ll be back again in the morning.”
“Wait!” the pegasus said as Lemony turned. Ask something! “What is my name?”
Lemony looked sad, even though she was still smiling. “We don’t know. I’m sorry.” Her expression changed, brightening slightly. “Perhaps you’d like to think of a new one?”
Waving a hesitant hoof in farewell, Lemony turned and left. Outside the room, in what looked like a hallway, another figure passed behind Lemony. And then the door shut with a click.
The pegasus mare slumped back on the bed, feeling heavy. There was someone else outside. And I almost… Why did I think about hurting her? That’s not a… correct thing to do. She glanced at the no-doubt locked door. And if I had, there was someone on the other side. That would have ended badly.
The pegasus mare had gotten very little sleep that night. She was restless, and had taken to pacing around, exploring the room in the faint moonlight. She had tried the door handle again once she was sure she heard nothing outside, confirming it was indeed locked. Her room had a chest of drawers, all empty, a wardrobe, also empty, a table and cushion with a few blank sheets of parchment and a quill, and a mirror hung on the wall behind it. The sink in the bathroom came with a bar of soap, and a few things she didn’t recognise. Beyond that, there appeared to be nothing else loose in her room.
The room didn’t seem used to having guests.
Despite the gnawing hunger, she felt like she couldn’t stomach much food. Looking at the food on the trolley made her feel slightly queasy, remembering for some reason how dreadful she felt the first time she woke up. Instead she took to sipping the water, and managing only a few small bites of the sandwich. It was a dandelion sandwich, and it tasted nice, though she wondered why she knew what a dandelion was. The orange seemed like it would be an ordeal she wasn’t prepared for, so she left it.
As well as stretching her legs, she also tested out her wings, raising them to get a feel for how they moved. It was a strange sensation, feeling her centre of gravity shifting and she pushed and pulled the strong muscles in and around the wings. She didn’t flap them; the room was far too small, and she wasn’t even certain how to go about flying. No, the ground would do for now.
Eventually she managed to get to sleep, though the sky was already brightening before her mind had stopped racing. She was already awake again, lying in bed and staring at the wall, when there was a knock at the door.
“Morning, it’s me again!” called Lemony’s voice. “Are you up?”
“Uhh, yeah,” the pegasus responded after a moment, getting up from the bed. She rubbed the inside of her foreleg, it was itchy. “…Come in.” She felt a little better adding that.
There was a click, and the door opened. Lemony stepped part-way in. “Hey, how are we feeling today?”
She frowned. “Um, still lost. And hungry.”
“Oh silly, that’ll be why,” said Lemony, nodding at the trolley, “you’ve barely had a thing. Come on, let’s get some breakfast in you!” She turned to the door, gesturing to follow.
I’m… getting out?
Stepping out into the hallway, the pegasus wasn’t sure what to make of it. There were several doors like her own on either side, and the floor was tiled. The hallway didn’t inspire comfort, but she was starting to wonder if the only thing she didn’t like of this place was its unfamiliarity. Which, if she truly had amnesia, was a quality that would apply to most things. At least Lemony was kind, and the feelings she gave off seemed genuine. She decided to play along for the time being, following behind the pink unicorn. There was a mark on Lemony’s flanks, the pegasus noticed, an image of a fruit cut in half. She wondered what that was about.
A thought came to her with a start, and she glanced around. There was no one else in the hallway, and yet she could’ve sworn she saw someone else outside her room the night before. She had assumed it had been a guard or something, considering her door had been locked.
As she followed, she looked around, trying to glean any clues as to where she was. Turning a corner revealed a similar hallway, followed by a flight of stairs going up, at the top of which were yet more closed doors on one side, and on the other were windows, looking out onto the courtyard garden. There were no sign or labels or any indicators in the hallways, everything was strangely blank, as if it had never been touched. At least the floor was carpeted. At some point, Lemony had started humming to herself. The pegasus found herself trying to tread more lightly so that she could hear the melody.
Turning down a hallway facing away from the windows, they went down another flight of stairs, finally coming to an area that looked somewhat more lived-in. Though built similarly, this corridor was wider, and the doors actually had labels on them, if only little metal plaques with numbers, and while everything seemed reasonably clean, the carpet showed signs of wear. The end of the corridor seemed to open out into a larger space, but Lemony stopped at a door before they got close.
Room 36, the pegasus made a mental note.
“Ah, there you are.”
The pegasus jumped as she heard the new voice. As she followed Lemony inside, she saw another pegasus, with a lilac coat and a short blue mane, sitting at a large table stacked with food.
The newcomer got up and came to greet them. She seemed calm and at ease, but there was a slightly flinty look in her eye that the pegasus didn’t like. She heard the door close behind her.
“I’m Shower,” she said, hoof outstretched. “How’re you holding up?”
The pegasus looked at the hoof, then back to Shower. “Uh, I’m holding up.”
After a moment, Shower lowered the hoof. Fleeting disappointment, followed by understanding. Am I missing something?
“That’s good. C’mon, let’s get you some food, you must be hungry.”
Lemony was already helping herself to some toast. “I’d say, she barely ate a thing last night. Could you pass me the jam please?”
“What, not a fan of sandwiches?” Shower pushed a pot of jam over, then sat back on her cushion with an apple in one hoof. She also had marks on her flanks; something white and poofy with small shapes beneath it. A cloud? “Sorry, we don’t normally have that much in.” She took a bite out of the apple, then frowned. “You can sit down, you know.”
The pegasus took the cushion closest to the door. Before her were racks of toast, plates of pancakes, bowls of assorted fruits and various jentacular foodstuffs. On smaller tables to the edges of the room were small vats of fluids, most were brightly- coloured though one could have been water, and beside them was a metal barrel.
Shower must have caught her looking, as she nodded over at the barrel. “You want some coffee?”
The pegasus frowned. “I don’t know what coffee is.”
Shower slowed her chewing, then put the apple down. “And what do you know?”
The pegasus considered being glib, but then paused to think. “I know that I woke up here. I know that that is a unicorn, and her name is Lemony,” she pointed to Lemony, who had a mouth full of toast, and butter on her nose. Lemony went cross-eyed as she looked up at her hairline. “I know what a dandelion is, and that that is a chunk of pineapple. But I don’t know what’s in those,” she gestured at the vats and the barrel. “I haven’t got a clue who I am or where I am, and I only have your word to go off of as to why I’m here.”
Shower nodded gently. “That’s fair.” After a moment she gave a small encouraging smile, though the pegasus thought Lemony did that better. “What do you wanna start with?”
Answers? Alright, what is the most important thing to start with?
“What do you know about me? Who am I?”
Shower’s expression fell. “We don’t know. You were in an accident. It seems to have knocked a few of your memories loose.”
“What kind of accident?”
Shower returned to her apple. “Flying accident. You hit your head pretty hard.”
The pegasus frowned. “Is there anyone here who knows me?”
“Sorry,” Shower shook her head. “You were alone when we found you.”
Okay, so no leads. She reached over and grabbed a pear. She knew what a pear looked like, but not how one might taste. It seemed to smell alright. She took a hesitant bite. Then another. It was good. “What is this place? Who are you ponies?”
Shower scratched her chin. “Well there’s not much I can say. This is the Royal Investigation Institute; we do all sorts for the Crown. You’re just here while you find your wings.” She put a hoof to her chest. “Name’s Light Shower, ex-Royal Guard. You’ve already met Lemony Meringue, our historian.”
Lemony waved cheerfully, half a pancake sticking out of her mouth.
“The crown?”
Shower blinked. “Yeah, the Princesses. Uh, Celestia and Luna.” She paused for a moment. “They rule Equestria.”
I wonder if they have to share the crown between them. Unless they have half of the crown each.
Oh wait, ‘Equestria’. I guess that’s the name of the land.
“Do you often have ponies with amnesia here?” She thought back to the many doors she passed.
Shower laughed. “Nah, you’re the first.” She started buttering some toast. “You were in hospital for a bit, but they sent you to us.”
“What do you normally do, then? A… guard and a historian? I have amnesia, I don’t see the link.”
Shower shrugged. “Well like I say, all sorts.” She paused while she bit into the toast, then continued, a different tone to her voice. “We investigate things. Disappearances, strange occurrences, magic stuff. It’s hard to explain.” Her tone lightened. “It’s not every day somepony loses every memory in their head!”
“What do you mean, strange occurrences?”
“Ugh, gimme a break. There’s loads of wild magic out there, away from civilisation, and loads we don’t understand about the world. We’re here to catalogue it.”
The nameless pegasus put down the pear core. “Am I in your catalogue?”
Shower’s expression shifted strangely. “No, you’re a pony.”
She glanced over at the unicorn. Lemony was… worried?
Maybe I should try a pancake, with some of that yellow goop. “So when can I leave?”
Lemony and Shower looked at each other. “You’re going to need to take it easy for a little while,” said Lemony gently. “We don’t want to overtax your brain, it’s still a little delicate right now.” She smiled. “We also want to make sure you’re prepared for the outside world.”
Hold on…
“But wait, what about my memories? Is there any way to get them back? I mean, if I saw something familiar, would they start coming back to me?”
Shower sighed. “No. I mean, I don’t think so.” She frowned, looking to the side as she thought. “It’s like… like some parts of your brain have been wiped clean. There’s nothing there to jog.” Her expression softened. Sympathy. “I’m really sorry, but you’re probably best off starting from scratch. Find your own way from here, you know?”
“Oh. Okay.” I wonder if there’s anyone out there who misses me. How long have I been missing?
“Oh!” Lemony’s eyes lit up. “You should start with a name! What would you like to be called?”
Shower smirked. “That’s a good idea.”
A name to call myself…
“I don’t… I’m not sure.” Lemony Meringue, Light Shower… is there a set naming convention? I guess by the sound of it, anything could work.
“Lemony, you called me ‘honey’. Is that a name?”
Shower burst out laughing, causing Lemony’s face to turn a brighter shade of pink. “Um, no. It’s a… It’s a nickname kind of thing. I probably say it too much.”
“Hey, maybe something to do with your cutie mark,” suggested Shower, still grinning.
The pegasus tilted her head. “My what?”
Shower shared a look with Lemony, her grin faltering. “It’s, uh, the mark on your flank.”
Twisting around, the pegasus could see the image of a tree on her left side. It was simplistic, with a trunk that was slightly wider at the bottom, and branches full of leaves stretching out on either side. Turning, she saw a duplicate on her right.
I have one too? How did I not notice? “What are they?” she asked.
“A cutie mark is the symbol of a pony's special talent,” explained Lemony patiently. “They’re very important and very personal.”
“Your special talent is lemons?”
“Heh, well, it’s actually a grapefruit...”
The pegasus frowned. “My talent is trees? I don’t get it.”
Shower shrugged. “Hey, maybe you were a lumberjack or something.”
“So I guess, should I call myself Tree?”
“Hmm...” Shower tapped her chin. “Not really very you.”
The pegasus scowled at that. “I don’t even know me,” she muttered. How can I, when I don’t even remember my own name.
Remember...
A memory surfaced, half formed. Words had been coming to her in fragments since she had first woken, fragmenting further the more she thought about them.
One of those words came to her mind. It seemed important somehow. It was one of the few words to which she couldn’t assign any meaning at all.
“Retcon.”
Shower and Lemony froze. Alarm. “Uhh, what?” asked Shower.
“Retcon,” she repeated. “That is the name that I want.”
“You can't- where did you hear that word?”
She shrugged. “Where did I hear any of the words that I know? I guess I still know language, if nothing else. Why, what is wrong?”
“Oh, nothing’s wrong,” said Lemony. The pegasus narrowed her eyes. “It’s just… um, it’s odd you’d want to go for that word as a name. Do you know what it means?”
Shower shot the unicorn a look.
“No, I don’t.” The pegasus frowned. “I think I’ve heard it somewhere, but I don’t recall a definition. That’s why I want it. I have no memory of ‘coffee’, the concept or the word, but I remember this word. Maybe it’s important.”
Lemony shook her head. “It’s short for ‘retroactive continuity’, it’s a literary device for going back and changing things, pretending previous events in a story didn’t happen. It’s not a name.”
For the first time since she could remember, Retcon smiled slightly to herself. “It’s perfect. ‘Retcon’. That’s my name now.”
Shower didn’t look happy. “I dunno, d’you think you could pick something else?”
“You said pick something that’s me.” I’m going to play along if it means I can leave sooner, but I’m at least choosing my own name. Especially if you don’t like it.
Shower massaged her temple with a hoof. “Ugh, sure, okay then.” She stood up, grabbing another apple as she went. “Listen, I’ve got some paperwork to do, but it was nice meeting you,” she said amicably.
“Uhh, sure,” said Retcon, as Shower walked past. Behind her, she heard the door open, then close.
Retcon turned to Lemony. “I’ve upset her,” she said.
Lemony smiled. “You’re doing fine. Shower can sometimes be a little, well, brusque, but she really pretty nice.”
She’s being sincere, thought Retcon, but even so… “I think I’ve upset you too.”
Lemony started. “What? Oh, no no no, I’m not mad or anything! Goodness no. It’s just… an unusual name, is all.” The smile was back, and it seemed genuine. “I’m happy you’re happy with your name, Retcon.”
Retcon, she thought to herself. She was happy. Already she felt just a little less lost.
“Coffee is gross,” said Retcon, placing the mug back on the table.
Lemony was laughing to herself. “It does kind of grow on you. But yeah, it is.”
The pegasus pointed to one of the vats of fluid, a warm, welcoming colour. “Is this drinkable?”
“Yes, that’s orange juice. Would you like some?”
“Yes.” She watched as Lemony placed a glass underneath the vat, and pulled a lever at the bottom, causing a small flow of the orange liquid to pour into the glass.
“Here you are.” She passed the glass over with a hoof. “So, you’ll be with me for the rest of the day, is there anything in particular you’d like to do today?”
It’s sweet, Retcon though as she sipped the orange juice. Better than the coffee. “I’m not being sent back to the room?”
Lemony looked puzzled. “Well, no. I mean, not unless you want to go back?”
Solitude, or answers. I wonder which. “I would like to go outside.”
“Of course! We can go whenever you’re ready.”
Retcon knocked back the entire glass of juice, wiping her muzzle with a fetlock afterwards. “I’m ready.” She noticed Lemony was giving her a funny look. “What?”
“Heh, nothing. You sure you don’t want to eat anything else?”
After a moment’s thought, Retcon grabbed another pear and ate it, faster than perhaps she should’ve. “Okay, let’s go.”
“Sure thing!” Lemony opened the door with a hoof, the pegasus following behind.
“What are you then, my guard?”
“Hah! Oh, no, I’m more like your chaperone.”
Retcon noticed they were going back down the same corridor as before, away from the larger space she’d seen from a distance. “Why was my door locked?”
Lemony gave her a sympathetic look. “I’m sorry about that, truly. Thing is, we didn’t know what you would be like when you woke up, how the memory loss might have affected you. And, well… some sensitive stuff goes on in the Institute.”
“When you two talk about this Institute, it always sounds like you’re being vague on purpose.”
“Hmm. I suppose I am.” She shot Retcon an apologetic look. “I hope you don’t take it personally.”
“Not personally, no,” Retcon responded. “It’s just, I’m putting a lot of trust in you.” You could be lying to me and I would never know.
Lemony nodded. “I understand. Thank you,” she added quietly.
Turning a corner, they came to a door, leading outside to the courtyard garden that Retcon could see from her window. It was a wide-open space with a lawn circled by a brick path, dotted with all sorts of flowers and bushes at the edges. Near the centre of the courtyard was a tall podium, carved with flowing patterns from a block of white rock. It looked as if it were designed to hold something atop it. Several trees were spread around the area. The whole courtyard was enclosed by the dark walls of the building, circling around the entire courtyard. Were it not for the azure sky above, she may have thought she were still inside.
On a whim, while looking around, she tried to spot the window of her bedroom, knowing it would likely be impossible to distinguish. While she couldn’t identify any details inside any of the rooms on account of the glare from the sky on the windows, she noticed that maybe a half dozen or so windows had bars set into them, just behind the glass.
Lemony trotted happily past her. “This is the garden. I come here to read, or to get away from it all, or to scream if I’ve had a stressful day.” She took a deep lungful of air. “It’s nice out here, don’t you think?”
Better than being inside. “It’s nice. I thought we’d be leaving the building, though?”
Lemony waved a hoof dismissively. “There’s not much to see out the front door. This place is a lot… tidier. Come on, do you like flowers? I’ve been growing some azaleas down here.”
“I think I’m going to go for a fly,” said Retcon, her wings fluttering.
After a moment, Lemony nodded, smiling. “Sure, don’t go too far!”
Yeah right.
Retcon took up a stance on the lawn, spread her wings, and…
Wait, how exactly do I fly?
I’m a pegasus. Right? I have wings, I’m built to fly, I know that. But…
She sighed. “Lemony, how do I fly?”
Lemony looked up from a patch of pink flowers. “Huh? What?”
“I don’t really… remember how to fly…” the pegasus mumbled, feeling her face flush.
“Oh, uhh, I don’t really know either.” She wagged her forelegs, “just try flapping your wings! It’s like a muscle memory thing, I’m sure you’ll figure it out!”
Frowning, Retcon looked back at her wings, pushing them up and down experimentally. Even moving them gently, the downdraught was enough to make her feel off balance. There were strong muscles in them, but they felt heavy, strangely so. She had been comfortable holding them against her back for most of them time; suddenly trying to fly with them seemed daunting. It’s like if she had never stood up since she had awoken with no memory, and then suddenly expected herself to run.
But it didn’t hurt to try.
…Well it could hurt if I crash.
Was that how I ended up like this?
Maybe I should take it slowly.
First, she rotated the muscles in her wings, feeling how far she could move them in each direction. Then, she tried moving them slowly up and down. Slowly, she started to increase the force with each flap, making her feel slightly giddy as her feathers caught the wind, and her hooves started to feel lighter. With one flap, she very nearly fell over forwards before gravity caught her and she regained balance.
Then, she began to hover. She started pushing just enough force into her wings that she took off from the ground and hovered in place. Twisting slightly, she found that she had started to tilt forward, and the ground began to slowly roll past her. Twisting again, she started to move to her right, and then to her left.
And then, something took over.
She flapped her wings harder and harder, climbing in altitude as she gained confidence, feeling as though flight was starting to come more readily. She felt something encouraging coming from Lemony, perhaps a shout of praise, and it warmed her. She started to fly back and forth, gaining familiarity with her control, then circling the outside of the courtyard. Looping around the circumference of the space, she gradually climbed higher and higher, keeping an eye on Lemony down below with each pass.
Without warning, she shot upwards, over the walls of the building, pumping her wings as hard as she could…
…only to be met with an unending sea of trees.
Beyond the flat roof of the Institute was woodland, stretching far off into the distance in every direction. The forest seemed to begin right as the building ended, as if the whole complex had been dropped into a clearing.
Retcon couldn’t see a single sign of civilisation beyond the structure beneath her.
She had planned to escape. Or rather, calling it a plan would give it too much credit; she had seen an opportunity and seized it, hoping she could dart away before she could be stopped. Beyond that, she wasn’t sure what she would have done, but she had assumed that there would have been somewhere she could escape to. Looking around her, there were no landmarks, no indication that anything outside of her glorified prison could be a better option.
Wilderness, as far as the eye could see.
Grinding her teeth, she turned back to the courtyard and dropped, slowing her descent by flapping and circling. As she came close to the ground, she saw Lemony waiting, with what looked like a gentle grin on her face.
“Told you it’s tidier in here,” she said as Retcon touched down.
Retcon was too bewildered to scowl. “Okay, I’m going to assume that’s not normal,” she stated, gesturing upward.
Lemony put a hoof to her muzzle as she tried to stem a giggle. “I’m sorry, that’s rude of me. You’d be right, ponies don’t normally build deep in the Everfree. Yet here we are!”
I guess that’s the name of this land. “Why are we in the middle of a forest? I couldn’t see anything! It can’t be just us out here?”
“Not planning on leaving, are we?” asked Lemony, sounding more amused than concerned. “The Institute is the only building for miles and miles around, and the Everfree is not a safe place to be in. At least, not outside the premises. There are all sorts of nasty things out there.”
The unicorn nodded. “Like I said, we handle sensitive information here. We wouldn’t want anyone stumbling inside and, well, getting hurt.”
Retcon rubbed her face in frustration. “Alright, what exactly do you mean by ‘sensitive information’?”
Lemony chewed the inside of her cheek. “There’s many kinds of wild magic out in the world; spells cast long ago, unknown magical creatures, or plantlife, artefacts, curses, hexes, seals, chaotic magic, even things we’ve probably never discovered. If nopony knows what it is, it goes through us.”
“…And I’m here because I ‘hit my head’?” Retcon pointedly tapped at the side of her skull. “Why couldn’t normal healers deal with it? Why am I instead locked up in a secret facility in the middle of nowhere?”
Lemony’s ears folded back as Retcon’s voice got louder. “Total memory loss is an extremely rare thing, but it is something we’ve dealt with before. That’s the only reason you’re here. And you’re not ‘locked up’. You’re out here with me.”
Retcon fell silent, going over everything she had experienced since she could remember. The ponies had been friendly and marginally forthcoming, she had been given food and the opportunity to fly, but there were so many things that didn’t add up. The remoteness of the place, the bars, the locks, the evasiveness. And the fact that she had no memory.
After a moment, she shot Lemony a glare. “You do realise how all this looks from where I’m standing?”
Lemony was looking at the floor, a shadow over her face. “It could look worse…” she muttered.
“…What?”
The unicorn blinked. Then her expression softened. Sympathy. “I understand. I do. I know what you’re feeling. But I don’t know what there is, if there even is anything that I could say or do to get you to trust me.”
“She that would keep a secret must keep it secret that she hath a secret to keep,” Retcon stated, frowning.
“Uh, where did you hear that?”
…That’s a good question. “What are you keeping from me?”
Lemony frowned, turning her head away, her ears held back. She took a deep breath, then looked Retcon in the eye. “Tell you what, I probably shouldn’t be doing this, but I’ll give you a tour of the place if you like. Show you what kind of stuff we do.” She scuffed the dirt with a forehoof. “And… I’ll see if I can get you your file to read.”
“…My file?” Information on who I am?
She nodded. “Don’t expect much though. We genuinely don’t know all that much about you, and you know most of that already.”
“I think I would like that,” Retcon said absently, nodding.
A shadow of that warm smile crept back onto Lemony’s face. “Thanks for giving me a chance.”
“Um, sure,” said the pegasus, feeling unsure.
It’s not as if it’s much of a choice, she thought. If I play along and act nice, that might play to my benefit. More trust, more information, more freedoms, and if your claims are genuine, I don’t want to have alienated the only friendly pony I know.
But if this is all a ruse, it really doesn’t matter how I act either way. Maybe I should withhold judgement, and just deal with now.
“Ugh… Lemony?”
“Yeah?”
Retcon rubbed the back of her neck. “Look, I’m… sorry I’ve been abrasive. It’s just, I’m new to all this talking, and I don’t really know what I’m doing. Or much of anything, really. But I should have been… I mean…”
There was a strong sensation coming from the unicorn. She glanced up, wondering if Lemony’s eyes had always been that shiny.
Suddenly, Retcon found herself the victim of an unexpected hugging. She froze in place, eyes wide in surprise. I wasn’t briefed on this contingency!
She heard Lemony’s voice somewhere in her mane, “Hey, you’re doing great.” The hug was mercifully swiftly terminated, but she still felt warm inside. “For somepony who started at zero yesterday, you’re already doing really well. We’ll have you acting like a pony in no time!”
“Uhh, that was nice,” Retcon said, feeling stupid.
“How was it possible to build out here, so deep into the forest?”
Retcon was trotting down another long corridor beside Lemony. The unicorn had offered the choice between a tour of the Royal Investigation Institute in which the amnesiac had found herself, or a crash course on pony society. Retcon had opted for the former on account of it being the more pressing of the two unknowns.
She couldn’t yet bring herself to trust Lemony or the ponies of the Institute, but she had decided that at least acting as if she did would be the most likely option to yield positive results. At least, until she were to be offered a greater reason to distrust them than unknowns and what-ifs. Something about the place set her teeth on edge, and she hoped that learning more about it might set her at ease.
Either that, or give her the reason she sought.
Having been allowed in the open courtyard so soon, she felt slightly less claustrophobic than she had before. Even though the facility was located in the middle of a dense forest, she at least had the option of escaping, should she so decide. She could have left when last she went flying, but the remoteness of the location and the lack of a direction in which to head had stayed her wings. She wasn’t yet certain she could survive alone in the forest. The only question was at what point would lost out there become more appealing a thought than stuck in here?
She glanced over at the pink unicorn. Lemony had been kind and cheerful, and her company gave Retcon a feeling of wellness that she attributed to a case of early-onset friendship. However, Lemony was not always the most forthcoming with information.
“Truthfully? I dunno, I’ve only been working here two years. I heard Princess Celestia herself helped with the building way back, so my best guess it is was teleported in, probably in chunks.”
The Princesses can teleport buildings? That’s terrifying.
Retcon frowned. “Why is it deep in a forest in the first place? I couldn’t see any sign of settlements.”
“Hmm, ponies are a prey species.” She shot the pegasus a small smile. “Historically, at least. We are herbivores, and we evolved from herd animals. And when we see something that we don’t understand, we panic. The pony who runs from a rustle in the bushes is safe, but the pony who thinks, ‘well, it’s probably nothing’… maybe it is nothing. Or maybe it’s a predator.” Her expression shifted as she looked the pegasus in the eye. “You have to understand, ponies can become… jumpy in groups, but we’re smarter than our instincts. The herd panics, but the individual can be reasoned with.”
Retcon blinked. Okay…
“Do we have any predators?” She paused at a spike of amusement coming from Lemony. “I mean, I guess that’s a stupid question…”
Lemony chuckled, “No no, I understand. We don’t really have any natural predators, nothing you really need to worry about. Of course there are wild carnivores, especially out here in the Everfree, like hydras, timberwolves, manticores, but nothing… nothing really that specifically hunts ponies. Just, if you leave town, don’t go too far off the beaten path. That’s why the Institute is out here in the Everfree, everypony who’s grown up in any of the nearby villages knows not to go in.”
“Right. That’s… I assume we’re safe inside?”
“Hah, yes, don’t you worry. Ah, here we are!”
Lemony stopped at a door on their left. Room 11. She reached for the handle with a hoof, then paused, glancing at Retcon. “Hey, umm, don’t tell anypony what’s in here.” She grinned conspiratorially. “It’ll be our secret, okay?”
“Uhh, okay.”
Wait, do the others not know she’s doing this? Am I not supposed to be allowed in here?
Retcon glanced up and down the hallway, seeing that it was still otherwise empty, and quickly followed Lemony inside.
The room appeared to be used as some form of storage room, with a half dozen rows of free-standing shelving units filling the centre of the space. The shelves were stacked with uniform cardboard boxes, each bearing a label with tiny writing. She could see that there were tables pushed up against the back wall, though unlike the shelves, the tables were empty.
Lemony had practically skipped down one of the aisles, and was already pulling out one of the boxes. Holding it under one foreleg, she ambled down to the tables and plonked the box down on top.
Following behind, Retcon glanced at some of the labels as she passed. Each label was mouth-written, starting with a seemingly random collection of letters and numbers with no discernible sorting system, and then an apparent descriptor of the contents. P2.157 “Courage Reactor” TD.195 “Riparius shard, inert” SC.085 “Cassy” TW.006 “Risen Mitten” NOT FOR USE MG.987 “Iroquois Pliskin” She couldn’t help but scowl, barely understanding a word she was reading.
Lemony waved at her to join. “Come have a look at this!” Out from the box, she carefully lifted a small stone attached to a long piece of sturdy string. The stone had a number of small runes carved onto its surface. She held it out towards Retcon.
Retcon leaned forward, inspecting the object for peculiarities. “What is it?”
“It was found in a temple up in the Frozen North! Listen! Nûna êower canne ne oferhîeran mîn hlêoðorcwide.”
The pegasus blinked at the sudden change in language. “Uhh, what?”
Lemony lifted the object over her head, wearing it as a pendant. “Hwæðre gîet êow canne!” she said, beaming, though this time it was as if she were speaking with two mouths at once. Retcon heard the strange words, but at the same time she also heard meaning superimposed over it, as if Lemony had at the exact same moment also said the words “And now you can!”
She giggled at Retcon’s open-mouthed reaction, and removed the object. “It’s a translation pendant,” she explained. “There’s a spell woven into it, it translates the spoken word into the native language of the listener, it’s super neat!” She gently placed the pendant back into its box. “So far it’s been able to handle just about every verbal language we’ve thrown at it. Sp- uh, one of my co-workers has been trying to figure out how it works, see if we can replicate it.”
“What was that just now?”
Lemony closed the box flaps shut. “Oh, that was just some rough Old Gryphonic. Why, did you recognise any of it?” she added with a smirk.
“No, not a word.” …Should I have?
“Yeah, not surprised.” She lifted the box up and carried it back to its shelf. “It’s a dead language.”
“Then how come you can speak it?”
“I studied it in college, for academic purposes.” She lifted down another box. “It was partly because it tied in with the history course, but... If I’m honest, mostly because not many ponies wanted to take that course. I thought it would be an easy way to make friends if there were only a few of us.”
Retcon cocked her head. “Did it work?”
Lemony smirked. “Not exactly. Turns out the course was so unpopular that year, I was the only one.”
Why does she think that that was funny? “I would have thought the other way; taking a course with more ponies increases the number of potential friends to you would be near to.”
“Yeah, I suppose. Still, it’s not like I wasted a course! Being able to speak in Old Gryphonic is a neat party trick. Plus, it comes in handy at work.” She delicately lifted a slab of rock out of the box with her hooves. “See these glowing runes? They’re written in Old Gryphonic.”
“You’re a historian, right?” asked Retcon, looking at the unicorn.
“That’s right.”
Don’t sound accusatory. “I would have thought... Why are you my chaperone? If Shower is a guard, or, ex-guard, she would have made sense. But you... a historian, I don’t get it.”
Lemony pursed her lips, then gently lowered the slab back into the padded box. “Shower has an ongoing assignment right now. I was studying this slab before you came to- came to in the hospital. And, well, this old stuff can wait ‘til later!” She laughed nervously.
...Resentment. Just a little, does she resent me? The box caught Recton's eye again. No... This is Lemony’s purpose, and she is being kept from it to look after me. She was... excited to show me these things?
Don’t lose her now.
“Why are the runes glowing?” she asked.
Lemony’s expression brightened. “Haven’t a clue! They just do. I mean all that's written appears to be a poem. But you see this?” She indicated an uneven side of the slab. “This says to me that it was once part of a larger piece. Plus, this last line lacks its rhyming couplet.”
“Poem?”
“Yeah... It’s like... It’s a wordy story. That rhymes.”
“Oh. What is the story about?”
“It’s about a griffon hunting a pony for food,” said the unicorn matter-of-factly.
Retcon's eyes widened. “What? I thought you said...”
“Oh, hah, don’t worry. It’s an ancient story, griffons are pretty friendly now. Heck, I work with one. They don’t eat sapient creatures,” she concluded with a sure smile.
Retcon’s initial panic dropped, but she still felt uneasy. “Right.” So that means I’m safe, right?
“Heh, sorry, I didn’t mean to freak you out there.”
“I don’t want to get eaten,” she stated.
Lemony gave her a side look. “You didn’t think I was going to eat you, did you? When you first woke up? You were pretty on edge.”
“I’ll let you know when I reach a conclusion.”
Lemony snorted, amused. “Sure thing!”
Wait, was that a funny thing? Funny things are good, aren’t they? “So, why are you studying the poem rock?”
“Well, like I say, we don’t know why it’s glowing, though that’s pretty innocuous. I’m more interested in where it’s from.”
Retcon watched as Lemony gently lifted it back into the box. “Yeah.” She rubbed the inside of her foreleg. It was still itchy.
“The last place we found with runes like this also held a lavastone, which… well, they’re nasty. And then, there’s this.” Lemony smirked as she returned the box, bringing down another and placing it on the table. “Word of warning, don’t touch it, alright?”
Retcon raised a brow. “Okay?”
Carefully, Lemony opened the box revealing nestled in the shredded paper packaging a small, metal arrowhead, with very sharp-looking edges.
“What is it, a weapon?”
“No. Well, maybe? But not because it’s pointy.” There was a glint of something in the unicorn’s eyes. Joy, certainly. But also, something that set Retcon on edge, like a hunger. “You know what gravity is, right?”
She frowned. “No?”
“Gravity is the force that means there’s a down, put simply. There’s a lot more to it, but basically; when you drop something, it falls. That’s gravity.”
“Oh.” That needs a name?
Lemony gestured at the arrowhead. “We call this the Grav Destab; ‘Gravitational Destabiliser’. If you were to activate it, everything that is in contact with it in that exact moment would no longer be affected by gravity. Like, at all. It all just sort of floats there, and if you give it a nudge, it keeps moving in that direction until it hits something. Also, the effect never seems to wear off. We have no idea how to reverse it. Creepy thing is, it was found in the middle of a field, along with somepony’s possessions.” Delicately, she resealed the box. “So yeah, we try not to mess with this too much. We really don’t want to set it off accidentally. A pegasus might be okay, I guess. You still have air resistance. But good luck staying put when sleeping!”
That’s… terrifying… Suddenly the room, filled with stacks of boxes, felt that bit more unsettling. Retcon cleared her throat. “How exactly do you ‘activate’ it?”
“Ah.” Lemony grinned. “Now that would be telling.” Lifting the box up, she carried it carefully back to the shelf. “This is what we do here. Something like the Destab is too dangerous to be public knowledge.”
“Do you have any magic things that work on memory?”
Lemony's lips quirked. “Nothing that will help get your memories back, no.”
A thought came to mind, an image from the courtyard. Many windows, some with bars. “You don’t just keep artefacts here, do you.”
The unicorn seemed to become a little more serious. “No, not just artefacts.”
Retcon tried to keep a straight face. “Tell me.”
Lemony glanced to the door. “Hmm. Perhaps...” She nodded, and turned back to the pegasus. “We should go talk to Gurney.”
Lemony hummed. “Gurney’s our... medic, I guess? He’s not strictly a biologist, but he might as well be. Academia in the Empire works somewhat differently.” She smiled to herself, looking down the corridor as they walked. “He’s a bit strange, but nice, I think you’ll get along.”
I get along with Lemony, is that why? “You’re strange and nice too,” stated Retcon, matter-of-factly.
“Eheh, well, thank you.”
...Why is she changing colour?
They stepped out into the large, open space at the end of the corridor. In the middle of the room was a huge circular table with cushions all around. There was a strange claw-shaped object in the middle of the table, which Retcon assumed was decorative, but the table was otherwise bare. Several doors lined the walls, as well as an open doorway to another long corridor. There were no windows, barring a large skylight in the high ceiling. Up against one of the walls were two large boxes, like wardrobes, only with a glass façade, filled with many colourful things. It looked like a display case, perhaps to show off the Institute’s collection of dangerous magical artefacts. The most brightly-coloured objects were probably the most toxic, she decided.
“Why don’t you wait here.” Lemony gestured to the table. “I’ll go find where Gurney is, and we’ll be right back. Okay?”
Retcon looked around. “Uh, sure.”
Lemony walked up to one of the glass wardrobes and pressed a few buttons. There was a muffled whirring, and a clunk. She opened up a flap at the bottom and retrieved a poison-coloured metal cylinder. Holding it with one hoof, she twisted something at the top, and the cylinder hissed at her, causing Retcon to jump, wings shuffling, as she eyed the angry object. “Here!” said Lemony, offering the cylinder to her. “Try this, I think you’ll like it.”
Retcon leaned forward and sniffed it gingerly. “What is it?”
“It’s a drink. Try it.”
Taking the object in a hoof, she carefully twisted it around to get a better look without tipping it over. The outer side of the cylinder was covered in text, much of it askew and difficult to read, and with many words entirely foreign to her. Even the words she could recognise were assembled into jumbles barely recognisable as sentences, starting and stopping at unexpected intervals. Locating a small hole on the top, she shot Lemony a questioning glance, and took a hesitant sip.
The hint of a sweet flavour was immediately overpowered by a surprisingly sharp sensation in the fluid. Eyes bulging, she just about managed to not cough it back up. “Ack! It bit me!”
Lemony burst out laughing. “Oh, I’m sorry, it’s just fizzy! What do you think?”
Retcon frowned at the cylinder. In her surprise, she hadn’t gotten much of a taste. She took another careful sip, this time more prepared for the sharp ‘fizzy’. “It’s… actually really nice. Like… like it’s made from the sweetest fruit in the world.”
The unicorn chuckled. “That’s a funny way of putting it, but sure.” She gestured down the other hallway. “Anyway, I’ll go see where Gurney is, just stay put and I’ll be right back. Deal?”
“Yes.”
Swigging the peculiar drink, she watched as Lemony trotted off down the hall, one that looked almost indistinguishable to the hallway they had come down; lined on either side with door after door. She settled down at the table and tried to read the story written on the cylinder. Perhaps it says where the drink comes from? It was so delightfully unlike anything she could remember ever tasting, so much better than the coffee, that she decided to savour it, instead taking smaller sips.
She glanced around the space idly. One of the doors was labelled ‘Warp Room’. The other doors only had numbers, ranging from ‘Room 01’ through to ‘Room 04’.
As the time ticked by, she allowed her mind to wander. It seemed odd that, for all the many doors in the building, she had only met two ponies who worked there. Lemony, the pink unicorn, seemed very friendly. Retcon enjoyed her presence and company to a degree. Trust was, of course, a different matter. She wasn’t sure she could exactly trust Lemony, given her very vulnerable circumstance, and the transparent reluctance to give more than the surface level answers to her questions.
She wondered if the many questions for which she had unsatisfactory answers were either because something was being kept from her maliciously, or because the true answers were simply by nature unsatisfactory, and that she wasn’t the only one who didn’t know the unknowns. Maybe, before she asked if truth was being hidden behind deceptions, she should find out if there was even a deception in the first place. How could she even know one way or the other? She grumbled under her breath, taking another sip of the drink.
She had less of a clue about Shower. The lilac pegasus ex-guard wasn’t exactly unpleasant; she had come across as friendly and genuine. Instead, there was something of an edge to her, some flicker of severity behind her casual eyes. Retcon realised that she didn’t like Shower, but she couldn’t place exactly why, since the other pegasus had also behaved in a reasonably pleasant manner. Maybe she hadn’t given Shower enough of a chance? Perhaps she just preferred Lemony, thereby making Shower by default the worst pony she had ever met. That was a shame.
No, she didn’t dislike Shower. She just didn’t understand Shower all that well. Perhaps that was it.
The inside of her foreleg was itchy. Lifting it up, she could see an irritation on the skin just under her fur. It was a tiny red dot, like an insect bite.
A door opened in the hallway she had come down, very close to the open space she was in, causing her to flinch at the sound. Twisting in her seat, she saw a white unicorn with a blue mane and golden armour step out into the hallway alone, the door shutting behind him. He had already started trotting down toward her before their eyes met.
“Afternoon, ma’am,” he said pleasantly as he drew close. “Funny place, this, isn’t it. I’m guessing this is the foyer?”
For one with such an authoritative appearance, he looks lost, she thought, watching as he glanced around the room. “Who are you? Please?” She added the last part in an effort to sound polite.
“Corporal Cobalt Storm, ma’am. I’m sorry to disturb you at work, I’m just here for some paperwork.”
“Oh.” Should I… She smiled to herself. “My name is Retcon.”
“Nice to meet you, Retcon,” he replied. “That’s an unusual name, i-if you don’t mind me saying of course.”
“It is my name,” Retcon said proudly. “And, nice to meet you as well.”
“You know, for a spec ops branch, I thought you guys would be busier. Hardly seen a soul since I got here.” His grin faltered as he glanced down each hallway. “I was actually hoping, uhh… I don’t suppose you’ve seen-”
“Retcon?”
Down the other hallway, she could see Lemony near the end beckoning to her. She turned back to Cobalt. “I have to go.” She quickly finished the dregs of the drink.
Cobalt nodded. “Sorry to bug you.”
“You are not a bug,” she replied, before turning and walking away. He seemed amused by her response.
I think that was a successful conversation, she decided, pleased with herself. I told him that it was nice to meet him. And I got to use my name.
Lemony was smiling as she got closer, though she noticed the unicorn glancing down the hallway past her. “Come on, we’re down this way!”
She started back down the corridor ahead of Retcon. Passing door after door, she turned right at the end, leading to another, albeit very different hallway. There were only doors on the far wall rather than on both sides, six of them, and they were all much larger, more distantly spaced from each other, seemingly made from metal rather than wood.
Standing in front of one of these heavy doors, staring intently through a wide rectangular slit into the room beyond, was a creature the likes of which Retcon had never before seen.
It was somewhat taller than she, with huge brown wings folded against it’s back. It stood on four legs, though it’s front two ended in vicious-looking talons, and in place of a muzzle was a sharp beak. It wore a satchel over one shoulder.
It turned to the two ponies, it’s binocular eyes homing in on her own. And then it grinned.
“Ah! How’s our star guest?” it asked. It’s voice could be masculine, sounding lightly accented.
Retcon stood and stared in silence. She had no idea how to react. The creature looked a threat, but his behaviour was unexpected. She turned her head to Lemony for guidance.
The unicorn seemed amused.
The griffon raised a talon and held it outstretched towards Retcon, who managed to stop herself from flinching. “Name’s Gurney,” he said cheerfully. “And before you ask, no, it’s not short for Gurnard.” Lemony rolled her eyes.
“That wasn’t going to be my question.” The pegasus glanced hesitantly at the open talon before her. “I was going to ask if you eat ponies.”
Gurney burst out laughing, the sudden sound startling her. She glanced at Lemony for help, who was holding a hoof to her mouth.
“Ahh, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Fräulein! I hear you’ve chosen yourself a new name?”
“Uh, yes. It is Retcon.” Not ‘Frown Lines’.
Gurney nodded, grinning. “Nice name. To answer your question, no, griffons don’t eat ponies.” He tapped his beak with a claw. “I mean, I’m an omnivore so I technically could, but if it’s smart enough to say, ‘no thanks’, that’s basically cannibalism.” He shrugged. “That’s how I see it anyway. Besides,” he grinned pointedly at Lemony, “some ponies are just a bit too sour.”
“Oh har har.” She turned to the pegasus. “Listen, I need to go have a word with Shower, so you stick with Gurney, okay? I won’t be long.”
“Oh, sure,” she nodded in assent. Lemony excused herself, retreating back down the hallway.
“Now,” Gurney pulled out a notepad and pencil from his satchel, flipping the pad open. “I’ve got a couple questions for you, I just need to check up on how you’re doing.” He wrote something down, murmuring under his breath. “So, you are Retcon the pegasus, correct?”
Oh, I guess the questions are easy. “Yes.”
Gurney nodded, making a short mark with the pencil. “Good.” He raised a brow. “And you can’t remember anything from before yesterday, correct?”
“…No. Well, some words and concepts,” she added. “I remember how to speak, but… not who I am or where I’m from or anything else.”
He nodded again, drawing another short mark. “No pain anywhere, no headaches?”
“No.”
“Lemony said she’s fed you; do you feel you’ve been eating enough?”
“Uhh, I guess? Maybe I could do with something to eat soon though.”
Nod, mark. “Alright. Favourite colour?”
“Huh?”
Gurney smirked. “Just answer the question.”
She paused. “I, uhh… I haven’t thought about it. It’s not important, is it?”
“No, not important. Interesting though.” He finished his note, then closed the notepad. “I wonder if your preferences have changed, or if you just don’t remember forming any. If opinion and memory are stored differently.”
“If you’re the healer… Lemony said you lot have dealt with amm- memory-loss ponies before, right?”
“On occasion, yes.” Gurney’s feelings were difficult to read. It probably had to do with the beak. “We’ve had a couple here at the Institute, but none had such a complete loss of memory as you have. Y’know, they were missing a day or two, a week, never much more than that.”
Hmm. “Did any of them ever get their memory back?”
Gurney took a moment to respond. “Sometimes, but only very rarely. In your case, I think it’s best to act as though you won’t.”
“Right…”
He cocked his head slightly, which looked strange as his binocular eyes followed her. “What’s on your mind, pal?”
Pal? She shook her head. “If I’m honest, I can’t help but wonder if there’s anyone out there who knows me, or is looking for me.” She frowned. “I mean, it’s not that I miss them if there is. I can’t miss someone I don’t know. It’s, y’know, whatever. It’s just…” Her chest tightened. “Well, I hope I’m not putting anyone through that, I guess.”
Gurney nodded sadly. “I understand. If it helps, you were brought in by the Royal Guard, so they all know about your situation. If anyone comes forward who’s looking for you, we’ll know.” He smiled. “So don’t worry about it, yeah?”
Retcon sniffed. That makes a lot of sense. “Yeah.” She cast about to change the subject, settling on the huge metal doors. “So, what’s all these?” she gestured to the nearest, the one Gurney has been looking through. There was a written label beside it; GH.038 “Allison” “Ah, welcome to my domain!” he said, grinning widely. “This is where we keep the living things here for study. If it’s alive, or a near enough facsimile, it gets put here.”
“I didn’t.”
Gurney grinned. “Not complaining, are ya? No, you’re sapient and not here for, y’know, study, so you get one of the standard sapient rooms.”
Retcon raised an eyebrow. “But, big metal doors?”
“Magic artefacts can be unstable and wildly unpredictable. Magical creatures; exponentially so.” He rapped on the metal with a talon. “Better safe than sorry, right?”
She nodded at the label. “What is an Allison?”
“Allison’s a manticore. Big, ferocious beasts they are.” He gestured to the door. “Come have a look.”
At eye-height was a thin horizontal slit in the door, with glass in the middle, and an open hatch which appeared to be a cover for the slit. Peering inside, she could see a habitat made from impossibly-flat stone. In one corner, curled up and seemingly asleep, was a huge creature. Its forelegs appeared similar to Gurney’s back legs, it had a pair of small leathery wings, and a segmented tail that Retcon could tell held a poisonous stinger. Its face was concealed by a large mane of fur.
Unlike her room, the furnishings were very basic; bowls for food and drink, some disembowelled plush toys were scattered about, blankets, small animal beds, and many other things she couldn’t name.
Even though the creature was asleep, she was suddenly very thankful for the huge, metal doors.
She glanced questioningly at Gurney. “Allison?”
He shrugged. “She didn’t respond well to Janet.”
“You keep it here because it’s dangerous?”
“Well, not exactly. In this room, yes, but if that were all then we’d just let her go in the Everfree. Predators are common out there.” He smirked. “No, we’re interested in her because she’s different. Manticores aren’t all that smart, maybe about on par with your average cat, but that’s about it.” He gestured to the door with a wing. “Allison’s abnormally smart, in certain areas, particularly maths and memory games. I mean, she’s not all that much different otherwise, even a pony still edges her out in arithmetic. She’s still a manticore and can be, you know, difficult to work with. I’ve been trying to figure out if this is some trait that’s been induced in her, or if there’s a population of clever manticores out there. That would be cause for concern!” he said, sounding thrilled at the prospect.
He’s certainly very forthcoming. Though… why is he telling me all this? Retcon mused to herself, glancing back into the room with the manticore. I get that Lemony said she’d give me a tour, to show they had nothing to hide. Is that all this is? Those barred windows I saw, are they just for dangerous animals?
She took in the creature’s enclosure; it was decently sized for a cell, more than sufficient for an unintelligent animal. I got a nice room. I’m glad I didn’t wake up in there.
…Is that the point? Is that why I’m being shown this?
“Hey,” Retcon said casually as she turned from the manticore’s enclosure to face the griffon, “what else do you keep here?” She fought to keep her expression neutrally curious.
Gurney’s expression became predatory, setting her further on edge. He beckoned over, padding down to last the metal door at the end of the corridor. Like all the doors, as well as the boxes in the room she had been in with Lemony, this door had a label, though whatever convention the labels all followed appeared not to apply to this one;
Gusty “Ice'd Phantasm”
Gurney slid open the window hatch, and stepped to the side, smirking. “Take a look.”
Glancing cautiously at the griffon, she approached the viewport and looked inside. At first, she had difficulty discerning what was inside; she could see white, but not much in the way of shapes, as if there were a sheet over the other side of the window. Then, she noticed that the depth of the image would undulate, as if the room contained clouds. Angry clouds, she surmised, given the rapid shifting of shadow.
Retcon almost took a step back in surprise when the flurry behind the door abruptly slowed. It was a hailstorm, she realised, contained within the room, vicious shards of ice battering the window, though somehow not a sound of this obvious barrage made it through the metal door.
As she watched, the white, grey and cyan of the storm clouds coalesced into a shape in the centre of the cyclone. A vaguely equine figure, a stormy blue-grey in colour, and two piercing icy eyes. Staring right at her.
Their eyes met. She felt as though she had been drenched in freezing water, paralysed to the spot.
After a terrible moment, the creature tossed its head wildly, and vanished once more behind a dense curtain of cold and ice and cloud.
Retcon started breathing again.
“May I present to you,” said Gurney in a low tone, “the only known Windigo in captivity.”
She shook her head slowly, still eyeing the window. “What… is a Windigo?”
“Terrible creatures.” He sounded surprisingly reverential. “Ancient beasts of magic. They feed off of negative emotions, which increases their power. The stronger they are, the colder the air around them becomes, leading to a vicious downward spiral. These creatures very nearly caused the extinction of my kind and the ponies.” He glanced over at Retcon. “Gives you the shivers, doesn’t it?”
“Is it safe in there?” Even though she couldn’t hear it, seeing the chaos behind the door, an indoor blizzard, had put her on edge.
Gurney shrugged nonchalantly. “I think this thing’s been here longer than anyone working at the Institute.” He slid the window hatch shut with a clank. “It wouldn’t surprise me if the Institute originally grew out of the attempts to contain it, at least that’s what I heard. I dunno, Sky has the files on it.”
Retcon pointed at the label beside the door. “Its name is Gusty? Sounds like an understatement,” she quipped.
“Nah. Best I can tell, Gusty was the one who brought it in. They must’ve worked here years ago.”
…Well I thought that was funny, she griped at Gurney’s lack of reaction to her joke.
The only known captive Windigo… A dangerous magical entity, the likes of which nearly ended her species, and it was being kept in a room in the same building as she; a no-one with no memories.
What is the point to showing me all this, she wondered. She knew that she couldn’t reasonably conclude that her suspicions were warranted. She felt lost, trapped in a maze of doors, with the walls slowly closing in on her, hunting for some small spark of familiarity.
The Windigo… scared her, she had to admit. It was the way Gurney’s voice had dipped as he explained what it did, the way that arrogant smirk left his beak. She was thankful the creature was being kept behind the huge metal door. Thankful to its jailers.
Was that the point? To reassure her, that they keep such creatures locked away to keep her safe?
Or to let her know that she, like the emotion-eater, could easily be contained?
Here she stood beside the griffon, on one side of the metal door, as she pictured the creature in the blizzard on the other side. It crossed her mind just how little metal there was between them.
“This is a toothbrush, and that’s toothpaste.”
Retcon glanced at her reflection in her bathroom mirror, who looked just as lost as she felt. “Explain.”
Lemony smiled patiently. “So what you do is, you take this tube, pop the cap like this. See? Then you squeeze a small amount of the paste onto the brush, about the size of… well, about that much. Then, you swill it under the tap, just for a second, and then you brush your teeth with it.”
She scrutinised the proffered toothbrush closely. What a convoluted procedure. “Why?”
“Well, to keep your teeth clean and healthy. Brush your teeth twice a day, and you prevent plaque and stinky breath.”
Retcon looked sceptically at the brush. “So… twice a day, you scrub the food out of your face?”
“Pretty much. Give it a go?”
Sitting on her hindquarters, she gingerly took the brush with both forehooves, twisting it around with interest, before trying to brush her teeth. “Yaaah-hahh?” she asked, looking straight at Lemony.
“Yep. Uhh, but, watch what you’re doing in the mirror. There you go! No no no, spit out the toothpaste, don’t eat it.”
“Bleh. How does it taste cold?
Lemony giggled. “That flavour is called mint.”
Retcon bared her teeth at the mirror. “How did I do?”
“Heh, good enough! Next time though, maybe go a little slower. Aim to brush your teeth for about two minutes total, okay?”
“Okay.” She laid the toothbrush back in the pot by the sink. Not going to ask what a minute is, I’ll just sound dumb. She tuned to the unicorn and tried to look appreciative. “Thanks.”
Lemony’s expression brightened, giving off a sensation of warmth. “You’re welcome!” She nodded back into Retcon’s bedroom. “Come on, I’ve got some things to show you!”
There was a trolley, a different trolley, in the middle of her room when the two of them had returned. This time instead of food, there was an assortment of papers, bound into individual piles of greatly differing styles. A few of the assortments met her internal definition of the word ‘book’, but there were a few that didn’t; collections of papers that either didn’t have an outer cover, or for which the outer cover was simply yet more paper. She didn’t have a word for those. Perhaps the word ‘book’ could stretch to encompass all of them? That would be helpful if so, she thought.
“I’ve got you some stuff to read!” said the unicorn. “I didn’t know what you would have wanted, so I got you a little of everything, really, fiction and non-fiction.”
“What’s ‘fiction’?”
“Fiction is when the story is just a story.” Lemony nodded to herself, seemingly finding the right words. “Like, if it’s made up and not real. Non-fiction is factual stuff, but fiction can be more imaginative, you don’t need to take it seriously.”
…Wait. “You mean, some of these books are false?”
Lemony snort-laughed. “Well, not exactly! They’re not trying to pretend to be true. They’re just stories.”
“But why would you read those?”
“Because they can be fun!”
Retcon frowned. “I don’t get it. If it’s not true…”
“Just give it a go, trust me. Fiction allows you to step into somepony’s imagination, it’s difficult to describe but I think you’ll really like it.”
“Okay, what’s ‘imagination’?”
Lemony smirked, picking up a large book with a thick cover with a forehoof. “I’ve also got you a dictionary if you come across words you don’t know. Thought you might find one useful.”
“Dictionary?” She inspected the plain cover. “Is it a part of the fiction?”
“Hah, no, the dictionary is non-fiction; factual. It’s a collection of all the words assembled in alphabetical order, so if you ever come across one you don’t know, you can look it up and find out the definition.”
“Right.” That’s useful for someone with amnesia, good to hear they have a book for ponies who forget their words. Though… “What’s… ‘alphabetical’?”
“Y’know, a, b, c, et cetera?” Retcon looked at her blankly. She placed the dictionary back on the trolley. “Huh, well, nevermind.”
The pegasus blinked. “Wait, how can you tell whether a book is fiction or not-fiction?”
“Um, well, you just kinda… know.”
Retcon raised a brow.
“Right, yeah, okay,” Lemony stammered. “Pretty much the general rule is that if the book is telling you a story, it’s probably fictional. Argh, but even then… Sorry, I hadn’t thought that through...” Lemony was… annoyed?
“Uh, it’s okay, right?” Retcon tried to reassure her, but she didn’t know what to say. She didn’t like it when Lemony was annoyed. “Hey, maybe you can tell me which is which?”
The unicorn’s annoyance seemed to dissipate pretty quickly. “Sure, good idea! What sort of thing would you like to start with?”
“I… I actually have no idea.” What did she want to read? She had never considered reading for… fun? She knew she could parse written language, except of course for the odd unfamiliar word, but it wasn’t a subject she had thought of as something for which someone could have a preference. It was like being asked ‘what are your favourite things to look at?’ “Why don’t you pick me something?”
She couldn’t quite place the expression Lemony gave her in response, but the unicorn seemed to be particularly pleased with the request. “Ooh! How about…” She retrieved a book with a very thin, colourful cover. “…This! It’s a comic book, it tells a story with illustrations to go along with it. It’s all fictional, but it’s pretty fun!”
The cover had a lot of bold, striking colours, with a drawing of several ponies in action poses. Taking up the greatest space was a white-coated pony with glasses, loose-fitting white clothes and a black belt around his barrel, wielding a short sword in his mouth. In the corner was an especially mean-looking crimson-coated deer. At the top was the title; ‘The Adventures of the White Knife VS the Red-Faced Buck’.
Retcon took the proffered book, smiling. “Sure, I’ll give this a go. Thanks.”
“You’re welcome! Oh!” Lemony pulled some papers out from the bottom of the pile. It consisted of a folded blank manila cover, inside of which was a loose sheet of paper. She held it out. “Your file.”
The pegasus blinked. “My… file?”
“Yeah, I had to get everyone to sign off on it, but… this is a copy of the file we have on you.” Her smile turned a little sad. “Like I said earlier, we don’t have much on you, but… maybe this will help put your mind at ease.”
Her magenta eyes never left Retcon’s golden ones.
Gingerly, the pegasus took the file. “Thank you.”
Lemony just smiled warmly in response. She nodded at the trolley. “So hey, I’ll leave those with you if you like. I’ve gotta clock out, but I’ll be back to see you tomorrow morning, cool?”
“Yeah, sure. …Uhh, are you going to lock the door?”
“Yes, I’m afraid so. Nothing personal, I assure you, it’s just standard procedure. Sorry.”
She nodded. “I understand.” Had to make sure.
Lemony stifled a yawn. She seemed to have been tired for a while. “So, goodnight! I’ll see you tomorrow then!”
“Oh, yeah! Tomorrow!” She tried to look cheerful as the unicorn closed the door behind her, though the weak grin dropped completely as she heard the click of the door lock. I guess, after seeing that gravity thing, and the… Windy-thing… She sighed to herself. I can see why they’d lock a stranger in for the night. She glanced around the room. It’s at least nicer here than…
The file returned to the forefront of her mind. Jumping up onto her bed, she laid down on her front and brought the paper out from the folder;
Property of Royal Investigation Institute CLASSIFIED - EYES ONLY do not copy do not remove from facility do not transfer Sort: LS.028 Subject ID: C13.274.B Type: Fauna, F Hazard Assessment: F Subject Classification: Pony, P Identifying Features: olive coat, forest-green mane and tail, tree mark. Feature(s) of Interest: Total amnesia. Has no memory of life before arrival at facility. Appears to remember language and recognises certain subjects such as food, some artificial objects, and other sapients. Maintains the intelligence expected for her age, however will require societal reintegration. Containment Procedure: Standard Unknown Sapient Procedures apply. Subject is to be assigned to standard sapient quarters, and is to be permitted rights in accordance with behaviour at assignee’s discretion. History of Subject: Subject was discovered outside of town unconscious, Appeared to have collided with the ground head-first during flight. She was transferred to the Everfree facility shortly after where she was stabilised. Assignee: Lemony Meringue Notes: Has selected for herself the name 'Retcon'. Filed by: Flt Lt Light Shower
Retcon chewed the inside of her cheek. Well, that’s a load of… useless. She slid the paper back into the folder. ‘Murrang’ is spelt really weird. So I guess Lemony is in charge of me? Still weird that they would pick the historian; both Shower and Gurney would make more sense. She glanced around the room. So this is ‘standard sapient quarters’? Considering the manticore’s room…
A thought came to her. Standing up, she trotted over to the window, looking out into the courtyard. Again, she could see a few windows which had bars set vertically into them. She had yet to see any rooms with bars in the windows from the inside, and neither the room with the manticore or the Windy-thing had windows. At least her’s didn’t.
Although… looking closer at the paint on the windowsill, there were barely distinguishable circular swirls, looking as if they had been painted over separately. Looking up, there were similar swirls directly above each one next to the glass.
Frowning, Retcon pushed it from her mind, returning back to her bed. Nothing she could do about it now. She resolved however to keep an eye out for rooms with barred windows. Particularly the containment cells she had seen with Gurney; she wanted to know what kind of room would require metal bars in the windows, and checking the other cells by the manticore seemed like an ideal place to start. If she could ever get some time to herself outside her room.
Though, Lemony had left her for a short time, when she met that Guard. If such an opportunity were to arise again, she could perhaps sneak away and slide open some of the viewing hatches on the big metal doors. She could at least excuse it as curiosity, whereas going through the many wooden doors in the corridors required actually opening and entering. That would be less easy to make excuses for.
What was that Guard looking for again? If she had seen… what was it? No matter, she shook her head to dismiss the thought. Not important.
She glanced back at the file. I wonder which town I was near, did I live there? Where did I lose my memory? She frowned. Why doesn’t it say?
49 20 64 6f 6e 27 74 20 74 68 69 6e 6b 20 49 27 76 65 20 65 76 65 72 20 73 65 65 6e 20 79 6f 75 20 65 61 74 2e 20 44 6f 6e 27 74 20 79 6f 75 20 67 65 74 20 68 75 6e 67 72 79 3f
The comic book was far more engaging and enjoyable than Retcon had expected, especially considering its ‘fiction’ categorisation. She didn’t believe for a second that any of the events in the story had any roots in reality despite the narrative describing them as fact, but she couldn’t help but feel for the protagonist on his quest to avenge his love. For a work of fantasy to make her feel such an array of emotions was a surprise.
It was late at night, or perhaps early in the morning, when she had finished the book; it was only short, and she didn’t have much else to do. Not wanting to delve too deeply into another book at that time but still feeling awake and intrigued, she skimmed through a few of the topmost books to see what kinds of topics they covered. Equestria Historia appeared to cover the history of the nation she found herself in, if she was correct on her assumption of the name. The book was probably non-fiction, but she could only guess. It did mention a Princess Celestia and a Princess Luna, names she recalled hearing earlier. This book was probably worth reading next, she decided.
A large book with a fanciful picture of a strange animal caught her eye; a huge, sharp-edged creature with massive scaly wings and wreathed in flame. The book turned out to be an information repository on magical creatures. She found an entry on Windigos right at the back of the book, thanks to a ‘Contents’ page near the front. She used it to find manticores as well, before branching out onto other pages to look at the pictures. She put the book back when she looked for the page on cockatrices on account of the unfamiliar name and found that, judging by the page numbers, some pages were missing.
She also found a small, thin book titled 150 Sudoku Puzzles, which she wasn’t sure whether to categorise it as fiction or non-fiction. She had a definition for a ‘puzzle’, but not for a ‘sudoku’, and each page just had boxes with numbers in them, so she gave up pretty quick.
The sky was starting to brighten outside when she finally started to drift.
A moth danced in the window.
“So, never go into the Everfree Forest?”
Lemony nodded. “Yeah.”
“Under any circumstances?”
“Pretty much.”
“Despite the fact we’re in the Everfree literally right now.”
“Well, no, we’re inside the Institute.”
“Which is in the Everfree,” Retcon insisted.
Lemony snickered. “Yeah, alright, sure, you know what I mean.”
The pegasus tried to keep her expression neutral. “I think so. The forest is dangerous, so don’t wander around in it.”
The two were in Lemony’s office, a small room that appeared well lived-in. Book-filled shelves covered two of the walls, with occasional esoteric objects that Retcon couldn’t name interspersed between the tomes; a wooden cube with maze-like indents over its surface, a knife in a very weathered sheath and runes covering the handle, a painted carving of a unicorn, and several other things. A large, sprawling potted plant sat in the corner. Dried leaves had collected around the floor underneath, particularly around the back where they were most difficult to reach.
The desk between them was covered with papers of all sorts including the map they were inspecting, as well as what looked like a few oddly-shaped rocks, and a tiny green plant in a little pot. A picture frame faced away from the pegasus, though she had seen briefly as she entered that it depicted Lemony with two other ponies, though neither were unicorns. Framed on the wall behind Lemony was a large, flat rock with strange indents in a helical pattern.
Lemony nodded, then pointed at a point on the map. “Okay, you see this big mountain here, near the forest? This is Canterlot, the capital city of Equestria.”
“Canterlot…” Retcon tried to memorise the names she had been told. “What does it mean for a city to be capital?”
“It means it’s the big important city in a country or province, typically where government goes on.”
“Government?”
“Yeah, like, the body of leadership that runs things.”
“Oh, okay.” Leadership-y thing, got it. “Is that to do with the Princesses?”
Lemony smiled encouragingly. “That’s right. Princess Celestia and Princess Luna are the joint heads of state and heads of government, though they delegate a lot to nobles and ministers and such.”
“Just the Princesses?” Retcon asked.
“Yeah?”
“No queen or… or king or anything?”
“Oh! No, the Princesses are right at the top.” Lemony tapped her chin. “Equestria hasn’t had kings or queens since the pre-Classical era. If the reports I’ve seen are accurate, the Sisters initially tried to turn down titles of royalty altogether. I think ‘Princess’ was the least they were able to get away with.” She shrugged. “Based on what I’ve read, at least, it’s difficult to find detailed reports from back then.”
“Back when?”
“Oh, this was about 1,400 years ago, shortly after the defeat of Discord.” She paused. “…Who I should probably explain.”
Retcon’s expression slackened. “How long is a year?”
Lemony blinked. “Um, 365 days?”
That’s what I thought. So then… Oh wait, of course… “Okay, so this was the first Princesses? I thought you still meant Celestia and Luna.”
“Huh? Oh, no, I still mean them.”
“…What? But I thought…” she floundered.
“They’re alicorns,” Lemony stated gently. “Alicorns are ponies who possess the innate magic of pegasi, unicorns and earth ponies all at once. They have the fortitude of an earth pony, a horn for spell casting, and wings for flight.”
“That’s…” Retcon trailed off. …cheating… She shook her head. “Do you work with alicorns?” I’d like to see one.
“Hah! No, they are extremely rare. There are only three alicorns in Equestria: Princess Celestia, Princess Luna, and Princess Cadenza.” She blinked. “Oh! And Princess Twilight, her coronation was just last month.”
Those are new. Retcon was about to ask further, but a thought stuck in her head. “What do you mean about spell casting?”
Lemony chewed the inside of her cheek. “Unicorns can cast magic through their horns.”
The pegasus waited a moment for an elaboration, before asking, “What does that mean?”
“Well… a unicorn can take magic… you know what magic is?”
“Kinda?”
“Umm, magic is a form of energy; there’s a field of this energy that surrounds us. Earth ponies and pegasi interact with this field passively; earth ponies draw strength and vitality from it, and the wings of a pegasus don’t just push down against the air for propulsion. Unicorns are… unicorns can manipulate the field for all sorts of uses. It’s kind of difficult to explain just with words.”
Despite the unicorn’s outward appearance, Retcon realised with a pang that Lemony was getting more worked-up as she spoke. “Could I see?” she ventured.
Lemony’s smiled turned sad. Bitter? “Sorry, I’m not all that good. You’d be better to ask somepony else. Though,” she lowered her voice conspiratorially, grinning, “maybe don’t say you’ve never seen magic before! You don’t want them to think you’re weird.”
“…So, can I not just say I have amnesia?”
“Hmm, yeah, you can. I mean, as long as you don’t mention this place, and we’ll go through your NDA later, you can say whatever you like. It’s just that the more unusual you act, the more questions you’re likely to get. That’s fine, of course! Questions are a natural way of getting to know somepony, but you don’t want to start getting awkward questions. Does that make sense?”
“Right, I think I get it.” Like all the questions I could ask you about why you don’t want to talk about magic. Lemony appeared a little more at ease as the topic had changed, she noted, deciding not to press the issue. Yet.
The unicorn stifled a yawn. “‘Scuse… Um, where were we?”
“Uhh, alicorns?”
“Right, yeah! Alicorns…” she blinked. “No, I think that was everything.”
“…1,400 years?”
“Oh yeah. Alicorns are unique amongst ponies in that they are very long-lived. Princess Celestia has been ruling Equestria non-stop since then. Princess Luna…” She stood and turned to a bookshelf, plucked out a book with her hooves, then turned back to the pegasus, grinning. “Let me tell you the tale of the Mare in the Moon.”
Celestia moves the sun, she thought numbly, staring at the ceiling from her bed. Luna moves the moon. Two ponies… the sun… the moon… They move them. They are ancient… and they move the sun and the moon.
The day had again been spent with Lemony, this time in conversation regarding the gaps in her knowledge of Equestria. She had learned of shops and currency, of houses and laws, of spaghetti carbonara, jobs and gardens and duckponds. Of how to make friends. A whole world of 'society' outside of this Institute. She longed to leave, to explore one of these towns she had heard of, but she couldn’t go more than a few sentences of conversation before she came across some word or concept that was wholly alien.
As much as it galled her, she had to accept she was not ready for society just yet. Lemony was very patient and forgiving, but Retcon still had more to learn. She knew she could leave at any point; her wings had twitched and flitted nervously when they had gone out once more into the courtyard, but the lack of direction and knowledge on the outside world kept her from just flying away. It was a sorely tempting prospect, but not just yet.
She greatly appreciated Lemony’s company, her tutelage. The unicorn seemed to be trying her level best to bring Retcon up to speed on how things worked, how to talk with other ponies, how to live a life on the outside. The more they spoke, the more the suspicions that Retcon had entertained since her waking had faded; if they were intending to keep her here, why would they teach her about how to live independently when she left? Sure, she could concoct reasons; maybe it was an advanced bluff, to make her convinced she was going to leave but that these lessons would never actually end... But such thoughts now felt like clinging to suspicions for suspicion's sake.
Lemony had quickly tired during the day. She said she had gotten very little sleep. Retcon hadn’t seen a bed in Lemony’s office, so she wondered if the unicorn had to leave the Institute at night, and how long such a journey would take. Given the remote location of the Institute, and having seen the door to a 'Warp Room', she suspected some form of magic shortcut, though where if anywhere this Warp Room lead, she couldn’t guess.
Magic was another topic of interest. The explanation she had been given matched the very loose and fragmented definition she had in her head, but some of the points concerned her. Hearing about the passive latent energy as used by earth ponies and pegasi made sense, once explained; drawing energy from the world the way one draws unto oneself heat from the sun when one stands outside. The idea that pegasi used a small amount of magic to sustain flight somehow made sense, in a comfortable kind of way. Perhaps this was a fragment of knowledge she once knew, back in its place in her brain.
What concerned her, however, were unicorns. Having been told that this Institute was set up to investigate unusual forms of magic, then to hear that those who possess horns could manipulate the world according to their will… it was worrying, deep down. Unicorns, capable of spellcasting. Once she had been returned to her room for the night, and as her mind began to wander, she recalled the Grav Destab, the object with terrifying magical potential. To think that unicorns had the ability to weave reality into such shapes made her blood run cold.
Of course, Lemony had tried to present spellcasting as something rather more jolly; levitation and lightcasting and the like. Small things that help everyday life. Perhaps a demonstration of such things would put her mind at rest, but Lemony had declined a display of magic.
And then, there were the alicorns, beings greater than any pony could hope to be. The thought chilled her, but she couldn’t help but wish to meet such a creature. Perhaps it was the investigatory nature of the place in which she found herself that she had begun to adopt, but she couldn’t help but find the concept fascinating, if also terrifying. She kept her fears to herself, taking Lemony’s calm demeanour as a template to follow.
She scoffed under her breath, amused, as she recalled the blind fear she had felt when Lemony had knocked at her door that first night. She didn’t regret her actions, nor her suspicions, which were all reasonable at the time, but it did strike her as funny how things had changed in only a few short days.
Still, for the first time, she now had a goal; the faster she could learn about pony society, the faster she could get out and live it. She wanted a house, a garden, a duckpond. She wanted to meet friends.
Retcon smiled weakly to herself. Perhaps amnesia wasn’t so bad. She had no idea who she used to be, what she used to be or used to do. Perhaps she had a good life, a life she could maybe one day reclaim, experiencing it anew. Maybe she had a bad life, in which case her loss of memory was a mercy. Either way, she had begun to feel that Shower was right; maybe starting from scratch wasn’t the worst thing.
Retcon snapped to awareness as the knocking on the door rang through her room.
She had been awake for hours already, reading parts from the books she had, jumping from one to the next. She was initially most interested in the non-fiction books, mostly because she was interested in facts over stories, though a part of her quite liked the big pictures they tended to have. However, her attention had gradually been drawn to a fictional romance story. She had begun it the night before; initially she hadn’t been sure what to make of it when she had started, but it had proven surprisingly engaging. By the morning she couldn’t help but wonder what happened next.
Closing the book, she jumped down from her bed onto the carpet. “Come in.”
With a click, the door unlocked and opened, and into the room stepped Shower. “Morning,” she greeted pleasantly. “Yeesh, you ever comb your mane?”
Retcon glanced up, confused. “No…?”
The other pegasus shook her head lightly, but seemed amused. “How are we today?”
Retcon had seen the her occasionally, but hadn’t spoken since the first morning. A sure-spirited smile graced Shower’s face. Retcon didn’t quite like it, though she couldn’t but feel it was purely for silly reasons. Shower was still better than Gurney, she had decided; she couldn’t read the griffon at all.
“I’m fine.” She glanced to the door behind Shower. “Is Lemony with you?”
“Just me today. Lem’s a bit off-colour, so she’s taking a day off.”
“Oh.” She felt concern rise within her. “Is she okay?”
Shower nodded. “Yeah, she should be fine, don’t worry about it. She’ll probably be back in tomorrow, just needs a bit of a break. In the meantime, looks like you’re stuck with me!” She stepped to one side, one foreleg outstretched openly toward the door. “After you, madame,” she said in a funny voice.
“So, how you been coping so far?”
Retcon paused with a mouthful of pancake. The two of them were back in the large, open room with the two fizzy drink wardrobes, sitting at the huge circular table which had a buffet of food before them. She swallowed. “Umm, I’m okay.”
Shower raised a brow. “Yeah? I mean, I’m not prying or anything. Just, y’know, wanna make sure you’re good.”
“…I’m fine.” Retcon chewed the inside of her cheek, then leaned back in her cushion. “It’s… difficult, I guess. Everything is new, and… well,” she looked the other pegasus in the eye, “anything could be a lie.” She broke eye contact. “And I wouldn’t know it. I couldn’t. All I actually know is that I don’t know. What kind of foundation for action is that?” She smiled dryly. “Isn’t that silly?”
Shower took a moment to respond, her expression somewhat serious. “To be honest…” she started, gently, “I think that’s pretty sensible.” She leaned forward, forelegs crossed on the table. “I… couldn’t begin to understand what you’re… what you’ve been going through, I get that.” She rolled her blue eyes, smirking. “This isn’t exactly an ideal situation for anypony, right? But y’know what? You’re doing better than any one of us coulda hoped, you know that?” She glanced off into the distance, shaking her head slowly. “When we first brought you in… And to see you now? I’d have never believed it!” The smile became warm. Genuine. “And for the little it’s worth; I’m happy for you. Lem’s happy for you, she’s been singing your praises about your progress!”
“…Right. Okay,” Retcon floundered. “Sorry, I… don’t have… words to say.”
Shower snorted. “Don’t sweat it.” She took a bite out of her bagel. “We’ll have you back out there in no time. Not that we don’t like having you around, but the sooner we can get you to clear off, the better, right?” She took another bite as she thought, before continuing more earnestly, “Thanks, for making this place a little more interesting.”
Retcon’s face heated up. “I’ve only been here a few days. I would have thought, this place… with all the magic things you have, how could somewhere like this get boring?”
“Heh, yeah, you’re right. It’s more like… Well we don’t get visitors often. Secret base, middle of nowhere, right?” Shower sighed. “The stuff that goes on here… We can’t exactly talk about this stuff to anypony. So, to be able to talk about all these mad artefacts and creatures and stuff to someone who doesn’t work here… It’s certainly a change of pace.”
Retcon nodded. “I suppose. …But, we haven’t exactly talked much.”
Shower finished her bagel. “Yeah, sorry about that, I’ve still had paperwork. Plus, you’re… well, Lemony’s your assignee. That’s more her thing.”
Retcon snort-laughed. “Must be part of the job for a historian.”
Shower chuckled. She grabbed an apple and took a bite before replying. “Y’know… Lemony’s never really been one for interaction,” she said evenly. “I don’t want to say she’s a loner, exactly, but… maybe a ‘natural outsider’.” She stared at the apple in her hoof. “I don’t know what she was like before… well, before she came to work with us. She’s not been here all that long, to be fair. She’s kind and friendly, but… she never spoke much. Not unless you prompted her.” Shower grinned. “Ask her about some ancient warlord or obscure tribe and she’ll talk your ears off until she gets self-conscious, but otherwise… Socialising isn’t really her thing, and I can respect that.” She looked Retcon dead in the eye. “You’ve really brought her out of her shell. You know that?”
Retcon blinked. “Umm, no?”
“Heh, well she’s still the same with the rest of us, at any rate.” Shower smiled. “But she likes you, so, thanks for being a good friend for her.”
She… I have a friend? Retcon was at a loss for words.
Shower scowled. “Urgh, enough yucky sappy crap for one day,” she proclaimed, taking another bite out of her apple. Still, Retcon could tell the other mare was amused.
She glanced around the huge table with the almost-two-dozen cushions around it. “Shower… how many of you work here?”
Shower gave her a side glance. “Mmm… ‘Bout a dozen or so?”
“Huh. I’ve only seen four.”
Shower paused mid-chew for a brief moment. “Uh, four?”
“Yeah… You, Lemony, Gurney, and… that stallion…” What was he… “Cobalt, I think. I was just wondering why… where everyone else is?”
The lilac mare’s piercing eyes took on a stony edge. “Cobalt?”
…Was I not supposed to...? “Yeah, I think? I was in here, Lemony left to find Gurney, and he just turned up.”
Shower’s flinty look softened. “Oh? What did you guys talk about?”
“Umm…” What did we talk about? “He said he hadn’t seen any souls. He was here for paperwork. I told him my name, but that was about it before Lemony came back.”
“Huh.” Shower finished her apple, but Retcon could tell the other mare was conflicted inside. After a minute of silence as they ate, Shower dropped the apple core on her plate, and stood. “Hey, I might know what that was about. D’you mind hanging around? I’ll just be right back.”
“Oh, sure.”
Shower smiled in response, then turned and trotted down the hallway from which they had come. Retcon frowned, what was all that? Leaving me here all…
She grinned to herself, then glanced around, down the hallway behind her, empty, to the one Shower had gone down, just as she turned a corner.
All alone.
Retcon recalled her resolution at the end of her first full day; to return to the place with the huge metal doors and try to find a room with bars in the window, just to set her mind at ease. She hadn’t had the opportunity with Lemony the day before, as the two had spent almost the entire day either in Lemony’s office or the courtyard. But now…
Well, if Shower got mad, she could just say she went for a wander. It’s not like she was told to stay right here. Just to ‘hang around’, and she was indeed planning on being ‘around’.
Glancing about again and seeing no one, Retcon slipped away from the table, trotting hurriedly but lightly down the other corridor, her heart leaping in her throat at the sudden rush of agency she felt. She passed door after door, coming to the junction at the end. Checking behind her, she couldn’t see Shower returning, nor were the hallways on the left and right occupied, so she continued to her right, coming to the hallway with the metal doors.
Retcon couldn’t stop grinning. She had done it.
There, on the first metal door, was the label she had already seen;
GH.038 “Allison”
The door at the end of the hall housed the Windigo, she recalled. That left four doors in-between that she hadn’t seen. All she had to find was one room, housing one of these dangerous animals, to have a window with bars in, and that would be enough for her. Moving to the next door on her right, she read the label;
AS.014 “Kelpie”
A word she didn’t recognise, perhaps just a name like ‘Allison’. Reaching with a forehoof, she slowly slid open the viewing hatch in the door, taking care to make as little noise as possible. Inside, she saw a room of similar construction to the room that housed the manticore; walls, floor and ceiling made of the impossibly flat stone. However, the majority of the floor in the room dropped downward into a wide hole, which was filled almost to the top with water. A small, indoor lake. The room was otherwise bare, again with no window.
Retcon was about to close the hatch and move on to the next door, when a flat shape resembling a fish tail emerged from the water, before splashing down again. She hesitated, her attention drawn to the pool. As she watched, the upper half of a sea-green pony appeared from under the surface. The mare placed her forehooves on the edge of the pool, steadying herself, then shook her head violently, water flying from her wet mane.
Then, she looked directly at Retcon. She smiled, a friendly smile, a welcoming smile, marred only by the vicious sharp teeth he possessed. She waved a hoof in greeting.
Eyes wide, Retcon stepped hurriedly away from the window, slamming the hatch shut. She staggered back from the door. With a start, she realised she had forgotten to breathe, her lungs starting to burn.
It’s clever, she thought, her spine running cold. It’s a thinking being. It saw me. It…
The manticore, the Windigo, they were just beasts. This ‘kelpie’, she could see the spark of awareness in its eyes.
Being kept here. As… what?
Am I being kept here?
The fears she had been quelling began to once more resurface.
Okay, there’s going to be a reason for this. I’ll ask Lemony… when she gets back, I’ll ask her… what they’re doing keeping an intelligent… thing here. Locked up. She shook her head in denial. I’m different, aren’t I? I got the standard room. The kelpie got the room with the big metal door. We’re different. I’m not locked up here, I can leave.
But, why is it locked up?
There was the distant sound of a door being opened down the hallway, causing Retcon to jump and almost cry out in surprise, followed by the tell-tale scratch of talons.
Gurney. This way.
She had to hide. All of a sudden, talking her way out of trouble no longer seemed as appealing as it had before, but the only places to hide without passing the end of the hallway he was coming down were behind the metal doors. With the sharp-toothed manticore’s room on her left and the sharp-toothed kelpie before her, she scrambled to the next door to her right, sliding open the viewing hatch. Inside was yet another flat-stone room akin to the others. All she saw in the room was a large orb on a pedestal, and no creatures, nothing moving, nothing living.
She glanced behind her as the sound of griffon drew closer and closer. I’ll take my chances. Grabbing the handle, she pulled the heavy door outwards, just wide enough for her to slip in, and dragged the door almost closed. She wasn’t sure she’d be able to open it again if she closed it all the way, and could only hope the griffon wouldn’t notice.
The viewing hatch was still open, though she couldn’t do anything about it from this side of the door. Standing on the tips of her hooves, careful not to lean on the door lest she push it shut, she looked back out into the hallway, struggling to keep her breathing even. After a painful few seconds, she saw Gurney tread into view. His wings were held outstretched; hooked over one was a bucket, and over the other was a large wooden frame with thin bars running laterally through it, and a series of large colourful beads on each bar. As she watched, the griffon disappeared beyond the right side of her vision, heading in the direction of the manticore’s enclosure.
Retcon let out a sigh of palpable relief, breath fogging the window.
Then she wondered, exactly what room had she entered, in her moment of blind worry?
…And why could she hear music?
“…So, are you going to speak first, or shall I?” asked a voice.
Retcon yelled in surprise. She span around, search the room for a source of the voice.
The floor, walls and ceiling were made of the same flat stone as the others, with only the huge metal door next to Retcon breaking up the grey. In the dead centre of the room, there was a podium, carved with intricate, flowing patterns from a single block of mottled white rock. Sat atop the podium was a translucent crystalline orb, a deep blue-purple in hue.
Placed not far from the podium, she saw a strange contraption, seemingly the source of the music. A large, curved metal cone stuck out the top, beneath which was a largw black disc, spinning slowly. The music it produced was slow, lilting and melodic, played by a single instrument, the sound of which might have induced in her a sense of wistful melancholy were it not currently drowned by fright.
…I don’t see anyone. Was the voice part of the music?
“…Hello?” she ventured.
After a brief pause; “Hello,” came the sardonic reply, apparently coming from the orb, which had shone from within with a dim pink light in concert with the spoken word.
Retcon blinked. “Uhh, hello.”
“Yes. Hello.” The orb flashed pink again. The voice had an ethereal effect to it, and was delivered in the resigned intonation of someone who wasn’t entirely participating.
Retcon was stumped. She had no idea what to do, how to react; a crystal was speaking to her. She couldn’t leave just yet; Gurney could see her at any moment. She could sit tight and wait for him to leave first, but that would mean staying with the orb until then.
“…What are you?” she asked.
The orb actually chuckled. “You must be new,” it muttered, amused yet lethargic. “Well, surprise!”
“Uhh…” Retcon couldn’t think of a response.
“So who was it? Who else is there?”
“…Just me.”
“Is that so? Hm. Well, I am the consciousness in the crystal, as well you see.”
It’s being friendly, should I keep talking to it? “Do you have a name?” she asked.
The consciousness chuckled lightly. “Ah, that’s classified, isn’t it?” it said in a rhetorical tone.
Oh. Mine isn’t, right? “My name is Retcon.”
“Retcon? Indeed…? You have quite the unusual name.”
“Yeah, I get that,” she said neutrally.
“Quite so.” It paused; the cadence of its voice was at a measured pace without being slow. “How long have you been working with us, Retcon?” it asked.
“Um, I’ve only been here three days.” She frowned. “But, I don’t actually work here.”
“Truly?”
Retcon hesitated. Should she even be talking to this thing? She had been led to believe she was the only intelligent guest in the place, and wasn’t sure what to make of the talking ball.
Maybe I should keep talking. It’s friendly enough, I should play along and keep it friendly. “I’m just staying here for a bit. I have amnesia, I don’t remember who I was or anything. They’ve been looking after me.” That’s true, isn’t it? At least I’m not locked away like the kelpie… or this friendly thing…
“Amnesia?” parroted the consciousness, amused. “Well, that’s nominative determinism for you.”
…Huh?
“Tell me, how did you get your name?”
“I… I named myself. I liked the sound of it.”
“And they let you?” The voice fell silent for a short while, the sound of the soft instrumental music filling the room, before it spoke again in a low, even tone. “You are a fascinating creature, Retcon.”
Retcon’s face flushed, she didn’t have a response.
“My name is Meadowlark,” said the voice quietly. “Or at least, it was. There isn’t much use for it anymore.”
“Oh.” Be polite, right? “Nice to meet you, Meadowlark.”
“Likewise.” It sounded as if the owner of the voice were smiling. “You’re not supposed to be in here, are you Retcon?”
“I… suppose not.”
“Hah, I won’t tell if you don’t. Oh, do you mind stopping the record for me?”
“The what?” Record of what?
“The turntable, it should have a record spinning on it. Do you see it? Just lift the arm up away from the disc.”
“Umm…” Her eyes were drawn to the thing producing the music. There was indeed a small arm positioned on the spinning disc. However, that would mean getting closer to the podium.
“It’s alright, I won’t bite,” the consciousness muttered. “I would need teeth for that.”
Keeping an eye on the strange orb, which up until then hadn’t done anything but glow and talk, Retcon approached the turntable by the podium. She pushed the arm up off of the spinning disc, causing a strange noise to momentarily to replace the music. The turntable ceased emitting sounds, though the disc continued to spin.
“Thank you,” said the voice. Up close, Retcon could see small irregularities in the orb; it wasn’t perfectly spherical, the surface was somewhat uneven causing light to refract strangely through its surface, but neither did it have obvious facets. It reminded her of water in a way, only frozen into a smooth ball. The interior wasn’t uniform either; it was translucent like purple glass, but the distribution and concentration of colour was uneven; slightly more blue in some places, slightly more purple in others, akin to clouds frozen inside. For the most part the colours were so dense that she couldn’t see all the way through to the other side of the sphere.
“So, what’s your story, Retcon? Tell me all.” As the orb spoke, the pink glow appeared to emanate from the very centre, illuminating the clouds of colour around it. It was like looking directly into a dream while fully awake.
She couldn’t see any harm in answering, though she was reluctant to say too much. “Well, like I said, I have amnesia. I woke up three days ago with no memory of anything. I’ve been here ever since.” She shrugged. “That’s really it.”
“No memories. Except language, right?”
“Um, pretty much. I still come across words I don’t know.”
“Indeed?” The consciousness hummed. “How did it happen? The amnesia, I mean.”
“Flight accident. I apparently hit my head.”
“Ouch. That must have hurt.”
“Y-Yeah…” Retcon rubbed her forehead with a hoof delicately. “Must’ve…”
The voice hummed again in a short amorphous melody. “Three days, you’re pretty new,” it said idly, seemingly more so to itself. “I don’t know how long I’ve been here. Sky has the full file. No real sense in counting.” It trailed off.
Retcon glanced over the orb and the podium. “What… are you?”
“Hmm. I suppose, I am a manacrystal. My mind has been sealed inside here for... quite some time.”
“Sealed? How? Can you get out?”
It chuckled, though it sounded a little bitter. “I messed around with things I should not have. A pretty gem comes my way... Of course I’m going to take a closer look. Why would I think it was hexed? And... I don’t know. Maybe there is a way to get me out? I’m not sure if even the ponies here know, the answer was ‘no’ back when I used to ask. But if so, where would I go? Meadowlark's body rotted long ago.”
“So you’re just... You sit here?”
“Mmm-hmm. I have my music though, and Gurney and the others come and talk to me. Oh, don’t touch the orb, Retcon. They think they’ve disabled the hex, but that’s a rule; no contact. Not that I would mind the company in here, of course.”
“Oh. Right.” Retcon took a few steps backwards, suddenly conscious of how close she was.
“Tell me, Retcon, if you don’t mind; what do you look like?”
“You can’t see me?”
“Nope. I can only hear, and I think I once felt motion. Humour me?” it requested.
“Right, okay. Um, I’m a pegasus.” She lifted a foreleg. “My coat is olive green, my mane and tail are forest green and... messy. And my cutie mark is a tree, though I don’t know why.”
“Mmm-hmm. And your eyes?” the voice prompted.
“Um, a sort of gold colour.”
“Thank you,” it said, sounding pleased. “I’ll remember you.”
“...Sure.” She frowned. “How come you’re locked in here? Why don’t you get one of the standard sa- sappent... smart thing rooms?”
The consciousness chuckled heartily. “I’m not locked in here. You’re all locked out there! It’s to stop little ponies from blundering their way in here and getting into trouble. A faultless plan, I’m sure you would personally agree.”
“But I thought... I didn’t know any other smart things were being kept here.”
“Really?” It sounded surprised. “Is that what they told you? Haven’t you seen next-door?”
...Did they ever actually say that? I thought Gurney said only non-smart things get put in these big cells, right? “I guess, maybe not.” A thought flashed in her mind. “The 'kelpie', is that thing smart?”
“You saw the kelpie?” The voice became more serious. “I certainly hope you didn’t go inside its room too?”
“Wha- no!”
“Good. Don’t. Not all things being kept here are as friendly as I. The kelpie is carnivorous; if you went inside, it would eat you.”
Retcon gulped, glad she had chosen this door to hide behind. “R-right. But is it smart?”
“Sapient? Yes, it is.”
Retcon was growing more and more worried. I guess... a cursed orb, it makes sense to keep it away from ponies, and a pony-eating kelpie. Sure. But... I just have amnesia. These are some serious, dangerous things. The Windigo too... Is the lock on my door really just to keep me from finding these things and getting hurt? But, they’re keeping sapient things here, locked away. That’s not right, isn’t it?
At least, they don’t keep ponies here. The kelpie kinda looked like one, but it eats ponies. ...Though, this orb, Meadowlark, does it count?
“Are you... okay with being in this room?” Retcon asked, trying to sound as polite as possible.
The voice sighed. “Not really, but I’m usually not stuck in here.”
Retcon blinked. “Oh?”
“Mmm. Normally I’m allowed out: in the hallways, the meeting room, usually the courtyard.” Retcon briefly recalled seeing a similar podium out the courtyard. “I usually get some decent company that way, as people pass by. But... something happened around two weeks ago that spooked everyone. Don’t ask me, I haven’t a clue. All I know is the majority of the Institute's employees were sent home all at once, and I was put back in here. ...Of course, you’ve only been here three days. It couldn’t possibly have anything to do with you,” the voice sounded as if it were grinning, “could it?”
A distant clank made Retcon jump. Sneaking back to the metal door, she peeked through.
“Hmm? What is it?” asked the voice.
Retcon let out the breath she had been holding as the griffon vanished out of sight. “Gurney. He was in the manticore’s enclosure.”
“Hah, are you hiding from Gurney?” it asked, sounding positively delighted.
The pegasus blanched. “Um, a little bit, I guess.” Am… I’m being silly, aren’t I.
“Why?”
…Good question. “Well… I saw the kelpie, and, I guess I kinda panicked, maybe?” Yeah, this is silly. “I didn’t know… I mean, it looked right at me and waved, and it looked intelligent, and…” She sighed, exasperated. “I don’t know. It made me think that if something that looks like a pony is being kept here against its will, then… Well… my room is a bit nicer than this, but the lock is on the outside.” …But, part of her mind reasoned, Meadowlark was a pony, and it is being kept here…
The consciousness was silent for several long seconds, then, “I’m going to be honest with you, dear Retcon, I don’t know your story, and evidently you don’t either. Maybe you’re here as a guest, maybe you’re a subject of interest like me. I really don’t know. But with a name like that… Well, I can’t go anywhere without being carried by a unicorn’s magic. I can’t do anything except talk and listen.” The tone of its voice had become serious, but it remained measured and even. “I’ve been here for… long enough. Long enough to know that it’s better to play nice with the one who holds the key.”
“Am I in your catalogue?”
Shower’s expression shifted strangely. “No, you’re a pony.”
She glanced over at the unicorn. Lemony was… worried?
Retcon’s blood ran cold.
“I don’t mean to frighten you,” the consciousness continued evenly. “If what you have been told is true, then you’ll be out of here before you know it. The folks here are pleasant, they’ll set you right. But if you are a subject of interest… I don’t know what to say, it really depends on what manner of creature you are, on why you are really here. There’s every chance that, like the kelpie, like me, you’re being kept here for a good reason, even if you don’t like it.”
“But… I’m not a kelpie!” Retcon glanced to the door, still ajar, and lowered her voice. “I don’t eat ponies! I just want to leave, I don’t want to hurt anything!”
“Then hold on to that. Like you say, you have the fancy room, maybe you’ve got a chance. I know the Institute, they don’t keep things here without good reason. But that’s the thing; it means that, if you are a subject of interest…
“…perhaps keeping you here is in everyone’s best interest.”
Retcon backed up against the door. “I-I’m not staying here, they can’t keep me here.”
“Then leave,” said the voice its orb glowing pink. “You have wings, you know where the courtyard is, right? Best of luck. I couldn’t guess which way to fly, though. I haven’t looked at a map since coming here.”
Her heart was pounding in her neck. “…What should I do?” For some reason, the consciousness in the crystal seemed trustworthy, moreso than everyone else she had spoken to so far. “What am I supposed to do?”
The orb paused. “…Keep your head down. They’ve been cordial with you so far? Play along, play nice. You’re a pony, there may well be nothing in it, in which case you’ve got nothing to worry about.”
“Right.” She didn’t feel all that much better.
“Oh, if you do plan on leaving, and you figure out a way to bring me with you, you wouldn’t find me complaining,” the orb said in a jocular tone.
Retcon blinked at the whiplash shift in tone. “S-sure.” How am I supposed to do that? She shook her head. “I really… should go.” Turning, she checked the window, making sure there was no one in the hallway.
“Of course. Do come back some time, it has been a pleasure talking to you. And if you find out what’s been going on these past two weeks, be sure to let me know, won’t you? I’m a little behind on the gossip.”
“O-okay.” The sudden change in topic solemnity left the pegasus at a loss for words. She backed out of the room, gently opening the door. “Bye.”
“Goodbye, Retcon,” the consciousness said tiredly, before falling silent.
Retcon closed the door as softly as she could, glancing up and down the hallway. The door shut with a click, causing her to wince at the sound.
So what do I do then? Just go find Shower and pretend everything is normal? What else can I do? She went over the options in her head. I could say that I’ve spoken to the mind in the orb. What would Shower say? I don’t know what…
Her file came to mind. “…and is to be permitted rights in accordance with behaviour at assignee’s discretion.” I guess that means if I’m nice, I get treated better. At least I get free access to the courtyard right now, they don’t think I’d try to fly away. Maybe if I keep doing what they want, it’ll keep that option…
Wait…
“Really?” It sounded surprised. “Is that what they told you? Haven’t you seen next-door?”
Retcon had thought the consciousness was talking about the kelpie…
…but it was surprised when I mentioned it…
“You saw the kelpie?” The voice became more serious.
The hallway seemed like it went on forever.
Retcon felt like she was hurtling down it fast.
Her hooves weren’t moving. So she moved them.
She turned left, to the next metal door down the line.
The door had a hatch. There was a label, but it was hard to read right now.
With a hoof, she slowly slid open the viewing hatch, and looked inside
the hallways swam with colours that shouldn’t have been there
doors on either side of her, endless, going on forever
she fought to keep her vision sharp, but the world didn’t like that
“Do you often have ponies with amnesia here?”
Shower laughed. “Nah, you’re the first.” The smell of toast. “You were in hospital for a bit, but they sent you to us.”
she wanted to throw up
but there were more important things to do.
Lemony’s ears folded back as Retcon’s voice got louder. “Total memory loss is an extremely rare thing, but it is something we’ve dealt with before. That’s the only reason you’re here.”
“…liar…”
“On occasion, yes.” Gurney’s feelings were always difficult to read. “We’ve had a couple here at the Institute, but none had such a complete loss of memory as you have. Y’know, they were missing a day or two, a week, never much more than that.”
her mind was racing-
no
her heart was racing
her mind was unravelling
“Thing is, we didn’t know what you would be like when you woke up, how the memory loss might have affected you.”
she had been locked away before she could remember
…how did they know she had amnesia before she woke?
“Shower has an ongoing assignment right now. I was studying this slab before you came to- came to in the hospital.”
I trusted you
She turned left into the long corridor. It used to lead to the meeting room in a straight line, but now it followed a longer undulating route. She wanted to throw up just looking at it
“Can I ask how much you can remember?”
That was the first night. She knew I had amnesia before I even woke up.
Shower returned to her apple. “Flying accident. You hit your head pretty hard. You were alone when we found you.”
There never was a hospital, was there…
“Flight accident. I apparently hit my head.”
“Ouch. That must have hurt.”
It didn’t. Her head didn’t hurt.
There was no head injury.
No bruise, no scar. Her head was fine.
It always had been.
“Do you have any magic things that work on memory?”
Lemony's lips quirked. “Nothing that will help get your memories back, no.”
She heard voices, but her ears couldn’t pinpoint whether they were coming from inside or outside of her head.
She felt something encouraging coming from Lemony, perhaps a shout of praise,
and it warmed her.
She needed to speak to Lemony. She needed to know if she could trust her. She needed to know. She knew where her room was, and it was in the hallway on the other side of the meeting room.
History of Subject: Subject was discovered outside of town unconscious, Appeared to have collided with the ground head-first during flight. She was transferred to the Everfree facility shortly after where she was stabilised.
“Maybe you’re here as a guest, maybe you’re a subject of interest like me.”
She almost fell as she placed a hoof on a door to steady herself and it swung open.
The voices were louder now, they were on the outside.
They were coming from the large meeting room.
She hid inside the room and closed the door. Glancing behind her, the room was filled with shelves of books, and the lights were off. She couldn’t see anyone there. She didn’t know what she would have done if she had.
“…should be around, I’ll go ask him.” That was Shower. The sound of two sets of hooves drew closer and closer.
“What words did you use exactly?” A mare. A very serious voice. A new voice.
“I don’t know! I just said to wait around, and that I’d be back.”
The voices stopped as they
“So, to be able to talk about all these mad artefacts and creatures and stuff to someone who doesn’t work here… It’s certainly a change of pace.”
Retcon nodded. “I suppose. …But, we haven’t exactly talked much.”
-walked past, the echoing sound of hooves getting quieter and quieter. She waited until she couldn’t hear them anymore, then counted to ten. Only then did she crack the door open and peek outside.
She was alone
…
…Ma’am, did I hear you right?...
…
The hallway was empty. Glancing back the way she had come, Shower and the other mare had already turned the corner. Now or never.
She bounded out into the hallway and down to the meeting room. There was still food left on the table from breakfast, so long ago.
Out of the large room, into the hallway, filled with doors. One, two, three, four, there. She opened the door and briskly went inside.
Lemony’s office appeared the same as it had the night before, although there was no unicorn inside. She snarled, glancing around. Is she even in the building? Do I just wait for her? I need to talk! I need…
She raised a pink hoof to her chest. “My name’s Lemony, I’ll be around to help you!”
-I need… Her vision started to blur. She’s my friend, right? I can’t talk to her. But I need to talk to her. I need to be told what to- that it’s alright.
I need her.
…
…etcon…
…
A word caught her attention out of the corner of her eye. There, on the desk, were several more papers than were present last night, right where she had been sitting.
One page had her name on it.
One page, jutting out from the bottom of the pile.
She pulled the page out from the pile. There was writing near the top of the page which started mid-sentence.
conclusion of questioning at the Institute's discretion, subject was given 10oz of Compound B67. Addendum: Prior to this procedure, Compound B67 was explained to the subject using its informal name of 'retcon'. See Notes. Assignee: Lemony Meringue Notes: Original name unknown. Has selected for herself the name 'Retcon'. This development was allowed so as not to disrupt integration. It appears that the subject was able to recall the word, though the meaning has been purged. This may be due to the limited affect that Compound B67 has on the speech centres of the brain. No other memories seem to persist, and the recollection of the word does not appear to have roused any suspicion on the subject's part. It was explained that the word is just a literary device, the meaning of which the subject found agreeable. Personal note, it is my belief that Retcon chose this name particularly because Lemony and myself advised against it, perhaps out of a desire to be contrary in an environment where she felt she had little control, and not because the word held any meaning for her.
Filed by: Flt Lt Light Shower
“Please step away from the desk.”
She whirled to face the door, dropping the paper.
Standing in the doorway was Lemony.
Reality snapped back into clear focus. At its nexus was the pink unicorn, her expression deadly serious.
The pegasus blinked. “You...”
“Retcon, you need to come with me.”
“…Don’t call me that.”
Lemony squared her jaw, glanced briefly at the paper on the floor, then took a step forward.
The pegasus backpedalled, her back to the bookshelf. “Get back.”
“Come with me, alright? We can talk-”
“No more talk!” the pegasus snapped. “We have talked and you-” Her vision began to swim. You lied. “I-I… I trusted you!” she snarled. “I-… What have you doneto me?”
A voice called from outside. Lemony turned her head slightly, eyes never leaving the pegasus. “In here!”
There was a sound somewhere close by, and the world she saw turned red.
“My name’s Lemony,” she said, trying to sound cheerful. “Mind if I come in for a chat?”
Whirling, she grabbed the knife she had seen the night before from the shelf. Twisting a forehoof around the handle, she ripped the sheath off with her teeth, and dived at the wide-eyed unicorn.
“You’re safe in here, I promise.”
Holding the unicorn close with a wing, blade held to her throat, she slammed through the door into the hallway. Shower came to a sudden halt, horror in her eyes. There was also a white unicorn, green mane, a look sharp enough to kill. The pink one was making noises.
“Get back!” she yelled. The entrance to the courtyard was behind her. She could get there quickly if she ran, but there was little chance she could make it. She started to back away down the hall, pulling the unicorn with her.
“Let her go,” commanded the newcomer.
She almost did. Her hoof twitched.
The unicorn shuddered.
“I’m leaving. Get away from me!”
The other pegasus said something. She couldn’t keep still, but she didn’t come closer. The unicorn held her attention, her eyes were as steel. “Let her go, and we’ll explain everything.”
“I don’t want to hear your lies anymore!”
“Retcon, you’re hurting her.”
“I just want to leave, I don’t want to hurt anything!”
She stopped moving, slackening her grip on the unicorn. The knife was getting hard to hold. She glanced down. Her hoof was red. Blinking, she shook her head. “No, no, no… No, get away from me!” She tried moving back again, and the pink unicorn came with her.
“Please, we’re trying to help!” That was Shower. Lilac bitch.
“Not stupid! I read what you’ve done to me! Keeping me here! How long have I been here? How long-”
“Two weeks,” the white unicorn interrupted.
The pegasus stopped again, the shaking body she held stopped a moment later. She glared at the white shape, blinking furiously as her mind worked. Finally, she settled on, “Why? Why are you doing this to me?”
“Because you asked us to.”
The world stopped spinning.
“…wh-…”
“You asked us to, Retcon.”
The sound of the unicorn’s voice was sharp and clear. It was the only thing she could hear. Those eyes burned her soul.
She stepped closer. The pegasus couldn’t move.
…I-…?
“Let her go, and I will tell you everything.”
The pink unicorn was trying not to move.
“…Who… am I?”
The white unicorn stopped. “You are not a real pony. You came to us. We’ve been trying to help you. Let Lemony go please.”
…not a real…
there was too much
Her grip loosened, the warmth she had been holding close by fell away.
Lilac embraced pink.
Vivid green eyes bored into her own.
Clatter of metal against the floor. She tried not to fall over.
She felt incredibly heavy.
…
“…ame is Light Shower. I was told you wanted to talk?”
…
Shower was talking quickly to Lemony. She glanced up at her. The glare was murderous. The wave of anger was sickening.
“I-… I didn’t…”
Lemony was staring right at her, quivering all over, pupils the size of pinpricks. She was holding a hoof to her neck, which was dripping with blood. Lemony had always been the easiest to read. She was petrified.
…of me…
She almost slipped when the off-white unicorn moved
then decided standing wasn’t crucial.
She collapsed on the floor. The fight had left her. It was
too much.
She stared ahead, unseeing, as things moved around her.
She needed to
…
The expression on Lemony’s blood-stained face haunted her.
She was sitting. There was a desk. The door was shut. She wasn’t alone, but she didn’t pay the others any attention. She didn’t need to. She didn’t need to do anything.
They could do what they liked. It didn’t matter. Sometimes they made sounds. Deciphering was pointless.
She wanted to slip away into unconsciousness, but her body wouldn’t let her. It kept her painfully awake.
All she could see was Lemony, looking at her.
And it wouldn’t stop.
She looked away. She looked up.
An off-white unicorn was standing beside her. Her long mane and tail were green with thin, vivid streaks of crimson. On her flank was the mark of two leaves. Her emerald eyes spoke of a restrained storm. She had been speaking.
The pegasus blinked.
Standing to one side was a griffon. Gurney, she recalled. She had met him before. He seemed fretful.
The pegasus looked down at the paper. She was asked a question. The ink on the paper wasn’t swimming any more, but the words were too difficult. She looked up at the unicorn, and shook her head.
Lemony’s eyes.
Gurney stood beside her now, speaking. She blearily watched his beak move. It was sharp, and could pierce her neck with a swift movement.
“Retcon?”
She knew that word. It hurt.
“Are you with us?”
She tracked Gurney as he moved. He was looking at her with his forward-facing eyes. She should respond. “…Hi, Gurney.”
The room sounded different. Her voice, sounding so close, cut through the thick haze which threatened to recoalesce.
After a confused moment, he came closer, beak flashing. “Hey. How’re you holding up?”
She thought as hard as she could, swallowing dryly. “I’m… not holding up.”
“That’s okay,” he said gently. Was he… smiling? The griffon was always the hardest to read. “You’re okay, just take your time.”
She blinked down at the desk. “…Okay.”
Gurney glanced, concerned, at the off-white unicorn, backing away as she trotted near. The pegasus watched as she took a seat next to her at the desk. The unicorn’s expression was calm, with hidden severity just below the surface. She leaned her crossed forelegs on the table.
“Do you know me?” the unicorn asked simply.
The pegasus wanted to shy away, but she daren’t move. Eventually, she shook her head.
For the first time, the unicorn broke eye contact, just for a moment. “I go by the name Sky. What is your name?”
Retcon. “…I… I don’t…” She shook her head.
Sky nodded. “Would you mind if I called you Retcon?”
Blood dripping from her neck.
“…A little…” She glanced at Gurney, who was looking at her, worried. “…Okay.”
“Okay then. Retcon, look at me.” She did, deep emerald eyes filling her vision. “I will not lie to you, Retcon. Ask me, and I will answer.”
Slowly, she looked down at the paper. Her name was written on it. She didn’t want to read it.
Retcon.
She met Sky’s eyes. “…What is my… real name?”
Sky paused before responding. “We don’t know. You refused to tell us.”
She tasted something bitter. “Who am I?”
Turning her head, Sky nodded at Gurney, who after a pause turned and left the room. It was the room she had met Shower on her first morning, she realised, Room 36. Then Sky turned back, once more meeting her eyes. She drew a slow breath.
“You are a changeling.”
…
…A what?
She opened her mouth to reply, but Sky continued, “Changelings are a race of shape-shifters. We don’t know a great deal about them, we can get you the details you gave us.”
The pegasus blinked lethargically. “…Shape…shifters…?”
Sky nodded. “Changelings have the ability to change form into that of a pony.”
She searched Sky’s inscrutable eyes. Frowning, she lifted a foreleg up slowly, turning it round.
This is mine, isn’t it?
There was a dreadful crawling sensation over every inch of her body. Every olive hair of her coat felt like a needle. “But…” She could see the fringe of her forest-green mane just above her vision. “…No…”
Sky leaned back, taking her forelegs off the table. “Take your time.”
The pegasus- she was a pegasus, right? She felt the weight of her feathered wings shift against her back. “…But I-” She looked up at Sky pleadingly. “What?”
The unicorn was impassive.
“Shape- but this is me, right? Tell me this is me!”
“That’s not your natural form, no,” Sky said gently. “But it is a form you yourself chose.”
The growing feeling of revulsion lessened, but didn’t leave. The pegasus… she kept her eyes fixed on the desk, withers hunched. “…What am I supposed to look like?”
Sky tilted her head. “Well, far be it for me to be sentimental, but a changeling is ‘supposed’ to look like whatever they want, so… But if you mean your natural form, you’ll have to wait for Gurney.”
“Okay…”
The paper in front of her appeared to be a copy of her file, though different from the one she had been given, much longer. She didn’t want to read it.
“Um…” She looked up at Sky. “‘Retcon’?”
“It’s a nickname for a memory-altering drug. Its effects on the speech centres of the brain are limited, so you apparently retained some memory of the word.” She paused. “You’re welcome to it as your name if you still wish.”
…I liked that name… It was mine. “But… why? Why was my memory removed?”
“You asked us to.” Sky’s expression softened slightly, breaking eye contact. “You came to us because you were desperate. Starving, maybe a week from death. When you were told of Compound B67, you requested a dose.” The steel returned to her eyes. “You wanted a fresh start, as a pony. The plan was to wipe your memory, prep you for integration into society, and then leave you be. That was all your idea, and we… acquiesced.” She turned away to face the door. “Well, not you. A different you. You’ve only existed for four days.”
The door opened before Retcon could respond, and a hesitant Gurney stepped in, a folder under one wing. He shot her a quick glance, before passing the folder to Sky.
The folder was enveloped in a meadow-green glow and began to turn in the air, seemingly unsupported. The glow matched a similar aura emanating from Sky’s horn. She was too exhausted to question it.
The folder flipped open and landed on the desk, showing loosely-bound pages. There was a lot of text, just looking at the paper hurt her head, but part-way down the page were a pair of charcoal pictures.
They depicted a creature somewhat equine in profile; one was a full-body side-on, the other was a close-up of it’s face, staring straight at her. It’s hide was black and slightly glossy, it’s limbs riddled with holes. It had wings; thin membranous structures on it’s back, like a fly.
Most disturbing was the creature’s face. Two needle-sharp teeth jutted out from it’s upper lip, and it’s eyes were a flat grey, with no pupils.
“…This is a changeling?” she asked in a small voice.
“Yes,” said Sky. “You posed for those sketches.”
The words struck her like a physical blow to the stomach.
…That’s me!?
She leaned in closer to get a better look, but the pictures were only small. The creature did not look friendly, she thought. She tried to find anything familiar in its features, but came up blank. It was like seeing a nightmare when expecting a mirror.
She lifted her head to look at Sky. “...Thank you.”
She waved a hoof. “Keep that, it’s a photocopy.”
Retcon nodded idly, returning to the pictures.
Sky stood. “We’ll give you some space.” Glancing briefly at Gurney, she turned and left the room.
Gurney raised a talon upward in her direction, hesitated, then seemed to reconsider and lowered it. “I’ll just be outside.”
The room felt emptier as the door closed. She was alone.
She skimmed the text in the folder; seemingly a dry and detached description of the pictured insectoid. She was almost afraid of reading it. Flipping the page, concealing those sketches, revealed a form. At a quick glance, the text at the top of the page made mention of B67 and talks with the changeling, it appeared to lay out an agreement, information on changelings in return for the retcon drug. At the bottom were two spaces signed by pen. Next to the neatly printed “Sky” was an unreadable curving pattern. She would have called it a scribble were it not so delicately crafted and clearly intentional. Beside it, next to “unnamed changeling” was the word ‘YES’ written in plain blocky mouthwriting.
Flipping the page revealed no further papers, so she closed the folder, turning her attention instead to the semi-familiar file;
Property of Royal Investigation Institute CLASSIFIED - EYES ONLY do not copy do not remove from facility do not transfer Sort: LS.028 Subject ID: C13.274.A Type: Fauna, F Hazard Assessment: C Subject Classification: Changeling Identifying Features: Natural appearance is consistent with known examples of changeling drones. Subject is currently disguised as a pegasus mare possessing an olive coat, forest-green mane and tail, and tree mark. Feature(s) of Interest: Total amnesia caused by 10oz dose of Compound B67. Has no memory of life before arrival at facility. Can recall language and recognises certain subjects such as food, some artificial objects, and other sapients; some general concepts still exist. Maintains the intelligence expected for a pony of her apparent age. Subject has no recollection of her changeling identity, and believes herself to be a pegasus. This belief is to be encouraged. Containment Procedure: Subject is to be assigned to standard sapient quarters to encourage the belief that she is a regular pony and not an SOI. She is to be closely monitored by assignee to ensure the development of new memories progresses as expected, and to ensure all prior memories have been purged. As such, subject is to be permitted rights inconsistent with Hazard rating, in accordance with behaviour and at assignee’s discretion. Subject is to be encouraged to take up a regular pony diet. However, due to the subject's necessary dietary requirements, the assignee is required to form a bond of friendship with the subject and allow for passive feeding. As these emotions must be genuine, the assignee must be selected carefully, as feigning will result in the subject starving. Further consideration must be given to ensure the subject is able to sustainably siphon energy upon release. History of Subject: Subject was an Infiltrator for a changeling hive, strongly believed to be the same hive from the Royal Wedding. Subject surrendered herself to the Royal Guard unprompted. Being the first changeling to be captured since the Invasion, subject was transferred to the Institute for study. During interrogation, subject expressed disenfranchisement with the hive, particularly regarding leadership and conditions following the failed Invasion; she expressed belief that returning to the hive would lead to her death. She submitted herself for voluntary memory excision in exchange for intel on the changeling race and the functioning of the hive. Upon the conclusion of questioning at the Institute's discretion, subject was given 10oz of Compound B67. Addendum: Prior to this procedure, Compound B67 was explained to the subject using its informal name of 'retcon'. See Notes. Assignee: Lemony Meringue Notes: Original name unknown. Has selected for herself the name 'Retcon'. This development was allowed so as not to disrupt integration. It appears that the subject was able to recall the word, though the meaning has been purged. This may be due to the limited affect that Compound B67 has on the speech centres of the brain. No other memories seem to persist, and the recollection of the word does not appear to have roused any suspicion on the subject's part. It was explained that the word is a literary device, the meaning of which the subject found agreeable. Personal note, it is my belief that Retcon chose this name particularly because Lemony and myself advised against it, perhaps out of a desire to be contrary in an environment where she felt she had little control, and not because the word held any meaning for her. Filed by: Flt Lt Light Shower
Bleary-eyed and foggy headed, it took her several seconds to recognise the sound of knocking at the door. She knew she should respond, but her mouth wouldn’t move.
The door cracked open, and in stepped Shower, her head lowered. “Hey. Can I come in?”
She blinked. “…Yeah.”
Shower closed the door gently behind her, then took a seat on the opposite side of the desk. She looked uncomfortable; her expression was less severe than it was when last…
Shower gave her an odd look. After a moment, “She’s alright. It… looked worse than it actually is. But…” their eyes met, “she’s still hurt bad.”
Retcon winced. “I’m…” She drew a shaky breath. “I’m sorry…”
Shower regarded her sadly. Her coat around her forelegs was matted, like it had been dried hastily, and her mane was dishevelled. Her eyes were red. “Yeah… I’m sorry too.” Her voice hitched.
Something caught in Retcon throat. She sniffed.
A moment passed between them. Then another. She couldn’t bring herself to look Shower in the eye, looking instead at the papers in front of her.
Absently, she lifted a hoof and pushed the folder across the desk, turning it round to face the pegasus. “That’s… me.”
“…Yeah… We met.”
Retcon looked up. “What was… I like?”
Shower’s eyes were locked on the photo. “Truthfully? Scary.”
Retcon snorted, amused despite herself. Shower glanced up, surprised, but the sides of her mouth began to curl. “What? It’s true.”
Letting her mirth fade, Retcon nodded at the photos. “I guess I can understand, seeing that thing.”
“…That’s just you, though.”
“I guess.” She couldn’t make the link in her mind between herself, an olive-coated pegasus, and the blank-eyed, fanged beast.
“Um, ‘Invasion’?”
Shower’s expression darkened. “Yeeah. Uh, about a year ago during the Royal Wedding, a hive of changelings attacked Canterlot, attacked the Princesses.” Her scowl deepened. “Some of us were there…”
…Oh no… I didn’t… “…W-was I-”
Shower shot her an icy glare. “Don’t ask that.” Holding her gaze for a second, the look softened. “You, uhh, you told me the Invasion was a mistake, that your Queen had gone… forgive me, nuts with desperation. You wanted nothing to do with the Hive, not after that.”
…Okay…
“S-Shower… What do I do?”
The pegasus gently shook her head. “…I’m sorry, I don’t know. This whole fresh start idea, it’s kind of unprecedented. I don’t know where to go from here. This was a deal we made with… old you. But old you is gone…”
A chill crept into the air. “You’re not going to try again...?” …Right? How many times…
Shower pulled a sour face. “I think that’s a bad idea. Repeated use of re- …of B67 can have bad effects. Thing is, the mind wipe was an opportunity for a clean slate. You still kind of have that, even if you know more than you had wanted.”
Retcon considered that; what did she want? ‘To live peacefully’, what a broad, open-ended goal. Of course she wanted that, it was as unhelpful as saying she wanted things to be better than they were. She did however know she wanted to leave the Institute, that hadn’t changed, though her level of urgency had. She wanted to go out and see the world, partly to be out away from the faculty and have agency over her life, but also because everything she knew, everything she had ever experienced was contained within these walls. She wanted to stand on a cloud, and swim in a stream, and feed bread to ducks, and nap in the sun, and cook a meal. She wanted to meet other ponies, to ask them their names, and to tell them hers in return. All the wonderful things she had learned about the outside world from…
…
…She wasn’t a pony. She wasn’t a pegasus, she wasn’t like Shower and the others. A shape-shifter… she didn’t even know what she was. She had agonised over the possibility that she could have been deceived, when apparently even her own face was a lie.
What even was a changeling? Why hadn’t the book of magical creatures mentioned them? Before exploring the outside, maybe she should learn about herself. And what was that about…
“Shower,” she started, timidly. The subject file was still open in front of her. Filed by: Flt Lt Light Shower, it said. She put a hoof on the corner of the paper, as if it were about to blow away. “Can I ask something?”
The pegasus frowned. “Sure.”
“…What does it mean, that part about ‘necessary dietary requirement’?”
Shower paused, following the other mare’s line of sight. She chewed the inside of her mouth. Conflict, mixed feelings. Her gaze appeared to gradually lose focus, staring through the table into the distance. She drew a hesitant breath. “…Changelings don’t… eat normal food. Well, they can, but…” She trailed off, and sighed. “They subsist off of the positive emotions of ponies. Changelings consume love, to survive.”
“…Love?” She felt like she had been doused with ice water.
Shower snorted dryly. “It’s no accident the Invasion happened during a wedding.” Her eyes softened after a second, and she looked back up. “…Changelings are a parasitic species, they leech energy from ponies,” she stated slowly, expression neutral. “I’m sorry, but it’s just how it is. They feed off of the positive emotions of ponies for sustenance. Like… vampires, but for brain states rather than blood. That’s what the shape-shifting is all about, y- they take pony-form to hide amongst us and gather energy for food.” Shaking her head gently, she broke eye contact. “We had no idea what a changeling was before the Invasion; that’s how they survived so long, living in complete secrecy. Then, pfthhh,” she shrugged. “You can’t hunt when your prey knows you’re there. I remember you were starved half to death when you came to us.”
“…B-but then…” Retcon began, her voice a hoarse whisper. “…I was… Why aren’t I hungry a-anymore…?” She searched the pegasus’ deep blue eyes, hoping not to hear the answer she knew was coming;
“Why do you think Lemony had the day off today?” Shower asked frankly.
“…I-I…”
…No…
…I’ve been feeding off of Lemony…?
Her vision began to swim. “…I-I’m… I didn’t kn…”
“Save it,” Shower said gently, raising a hoof. “That was the point. Lemony volunteered, she knew what she was doing. We weren’t about to let you die, and… well, Lemony was the only one of us who was able to build up enough of a friendship that you could… eat.” She sniffed. “Like I say, some of us were there in Canterlot.”
“I-I’ve been…” …feeding off of Lemony… The lump in her throat wouldn’t shift as she swallowed. …All this time, I’ve been… And she knew?
“Lemony saved your life,” Shower said dispassionately. “You should know that. If she hadn’t volunteered, you’d have starved about a week and a half ago.” Shower stood, not looking at the other mare. There was a sad resignation in her eyes as she walked past, heading to the door. “Oh, and, if you pull something like that again, if you hurt Lemony, I will kill you.”
Retcon didn’t move a muscle, the air in the room flowing softly around her as the door behind opened and closed.
Gurney turned back to look at her, slowing his walking pace. He seemed concerned, although she found his avian features difficult to read.
The two of them were heading back to her room. Gurney was carrying the papers and files she had been given in his satchel, in case she wanted to read them later. In all honesty, she would rather forget about the word ‘changeling’ altogether.
Then she would remember that such a thought wasn’t entirely hyperbolic, and it would begin to feel like her heart was burning a hole in her chest.
If she was still having such thoughts now, maybe she and the fanged creature in the sketches shared more in common than she was comfortable with.
“Come on,” said Gurney, gently. “It’s more important to focus on what you can do right now. What’s done is done, but the world ticks on, and we gotta move with it.”
She nodded glumly, not feeling much like arguing. It didn’t make her feel any better.
Turning a corner, they came to the hallway with all the unlabelled doors. A part of her wondered why there were so many rooms without room numbers, but it didn’t matter. It didn’t matter because she wasn’t even a real pony. She was a shapeshifter who had taken the form of one and cut her only friend’s throat wi
“Retcon, look at me.”
She looked up to see that Gurney had stopped. “One step at a time,” he said kindly, binocular eyes boring into hers. “The only thing you need to do right now is to walk from here to your room. Nothing else is important. Think you can do that?”
“But… I-”
“Nope, doesn’t matter. Right now, your only task is walking. You don’t get to move on to the next task until you’ve finished.” He smiled gently, gesturing with a wing down the hallway. “Ready?”
Mouth hanging open, she nodded.
“Come on then.” Gurney started back down the corridor without waiting for her, and she followed soon after. “You’ve had a long day, you need rest.”
She frowned, matching his pace evenly. “Why are you being nice to me?”
Gurney shot her a questioning look. “I want to. Shouldn’t I?”
“But I mean… knowing what I am, what I’ve done…”
He shrugged. “So what? Sure, ponies get creeped out by changelings and what they’re capable of, that’s pretty natural I guess. I just think you’re neat.”
She looked away, considering his words. Like a specimen?
“And what about you?” he prompted. “What do you think?”
“About… changelings?”
“Sure.”
What did she think? “…I guess I… don’t really want to think about it.” Looks creepy. Probably don’t make many friends looking like that. I can’t imagine talking through those big teeth. Can they talk?
“Well, to be fair, you’ve never actually met a changeling. For all intents and purposes, you’re a pony, and always have been. But, there’s a changeling in the building.” He smirked at her. “She’s kind of shy about meeting you, but you should give her a chance. I reckon you’d get along.”
She scowled. “That’s not the same thing and you know it.”
“You’ve been crying,” Gurney stated coolly, raising a brow.
“S-so what?”
“Changelings can’t. They don’t have tear ducts. They physically cannot cry.” Gurney gave her a sideways glance. “Retcon, you’re a pony. It may not be your natural form, but when a changeling transforms, it’s a bit more than just skin-deep.”
“Right…” That gave her pause for thought. To hear that the body she controlled and the face she wore was all just a façade was difficult, even terrifying to consider. To not even know was she actually was, it made her skin crawl, as if there were something moving around just beneath the surface, and that that something was the real her. The hairs of her coat stood on end and her feathers bristled; she felt like she was contaminated, like the pegasus body wasn’t hers. Part of her vision was obscured by her forest-green mane as it settled in front of her eyes, but she had dared not brush it out of the way. She didn’t want to touch the face.
She wanted to curl up and hold herself, but that’s just it. That was the problem. Whose forelegs and wings would do the holding? And who would be held? Not her. It wasn’t her body; it was someone else’s, and she physically could not get away from it.
Was the changeling even female? Did changelings have genders? Was that a concept she need abandon? …Did she even think the same thoughts, or did her brain change too?
But… she decided she liked listening to Gurney talk. Looking up at her mane, she brought a forehoof to her face, trying not to grimace as she brushed her fringe out of her eyes. “…I guess.”
“Oh hey, guess what?”
She frowned. “What?”
Gurney stopped suddenly and turned to face her, grinning. “Task complete. Good work.”
She blinked, recognising the door that they had stopped at. “Oh.” It didn’t feel like much of a success. “Right. Now what?”
“Now you should get some rest.” Gurney tilted his head slightly, speaking gently. “You’ve had a few bombshells today, your mind needs some time to process everything. We’ll pick things up tomorrow. Is that okay?”
“...Okay.” She nodded gingerly, then paused. “Um, could I get something to eat? I haven’t eaten since br-...”
She trailed off as she watched Gurney’s expression change, becoming more uncomfortable as she spoke. With a start, her mind caught up. She gasped, horrified, backing away from the griffon. “No, that’s not-... I-I don’t want...”
“Hey, hey, it’s alright.” Gurney gestured placating with a foreclaw, talons flashing sharp in front of her.
She shook her head. “I don’t want to hurt anyone! I promise! I-...” Her blood ran cold, voice dropping to a whisper. “...Have I been... feeding off you!?”
“No, you haven’t. Retcon, you need to chill.”
She froze, trying to keep her breathing under control. She shook her head, eyes wide. “I don’t want to hurt anyone.”
“I know you don’t.” Gurney took a step closer.
“S-stay back! Stay away, I don’t want to hurt you,” she pleaded.
The griffon stopped in place. “You can’t,” he stated seriously. “Changelings can’t feed off of griffons, so just… stay with me, okay?”
She dipped her head, her breathing slowly returning to normal, and took a cautious step forward. “…Y-you promise?”
Gurney nodded. “Das verspreche ich. Honest.”
“…Okay.” She stopped, but still wanted to get away from the griffon.
He tilted his head. “Not that you hurt ponies when you feed off them anyway. You don’t need to make a big deal out of it, yeah?”
“No, but… Shower said L-Lemony was… that I…”
Gurney tilted his head. “Lemony had a scheduled day off to get her energy back. She was just tired. Being… a volunteer is pretty draining, but that’s it.”
“But I don’t want to drainanyone!” she exclaimed. “I don’t want to steal energy from other beings! It’s…” She shuddered.
“I’m sorry, I really am,” Gurney shrugged, “but… tough. Unless you want to starve to death.”
She flushed. “No I don’t want to starve to death!”
“Then that’s how you get food. Besides, you never noticed you were doing it until we told you.”
She scowled. It was true; she had thought she was subsisting off of the solid food she had been eating. The whole time, she had been sucking the lifeforce out of her only friend, and it never once bothered her before. But that didn’t mean she could continue doing it now she knew. It was obscene.
She sighed. “How exactly was this plan supposed to work?”
“A few of our agents live in the same little town; friendly little place,” Gurney said, shifting his weight. “Once you were ready, we would have set you up there. You’d have been able to passively absorb more than enough to get by.”
“…So I was just going to drain the life out of unsuspecting ponies? With neither me nor them realising?”
“Well you don’t need all that much to keep yourself alive…”
“Oh sweet mercies, a diet,” she scoffed. “Thanks.”
Gurney regarded her coolly, a brow raised. “Alright, what would you suggest?”
Her face heated up. “I… I don’t know…”
Gurney shrugged, then gestured to her room. “Come along Retcon, you staying out here all night?”
Retcon. She scowled, glaring at the door as he made to open it. “Don’t call me that.”
The griffon halted mid-step. “Hä?”
Glancing up at his expression, she felt guilty for snapping. “I mean, I don’t think… Maybe it’s not such a good name.”
“I thought you liked that name.”
“It’s not a real name though, is it? It’s a name for a… memory drug. It’s just…” She made to rub her forehead with a hoof, blinking at the olive forelimb as it entered her field of vision, then lowered it again. “I don’t know what I was thinking.”
“You didn’t know. How could you have?” Gurney scratched the back of his neck with a claw. “I mean, I kind of liked it, if it helps.”
“What, even though I named myself after a drug?”
The griffon shrugged. “Well, no one else outside of the Institute would know. We make it here, so it’s meaningless to the rest of the world.” He smiled earnestly. “I guess, I always thought it was kind of a hopeful name. ‘Retroactive continuity’. A fresh start. I thought that was a good idea.”
“…Right.” Retcon. Huh. I did like it. “It’s okay, I guess.”
“Well, it’s up to you,” Gurney said, opening the door to her room.
“Hmm. Sky said… the changeling never said it’s… my old name… right?”
“Yeah, that’s true,” the griffon murmured. “Sorry, you… she was quite adamant about taking it with her. To be honest, I’m not a-hundred percent sure changeling drones have names.”
“Oh…” ‘Drone’…
“So yeah, your choice.”
She… Retcon frowned. “Yeah.” She glanced inside the room; everything was still as she remembered from before, her books on the trolley appeared untouched. It seemed like it had been days since she had last seen her room.
Retcon. “…Yeah, I…” She chewed the inside of her cheek. “I was just thinking…” Drawing a breath, she turned and looked the griffon squarely in the eye. “Do you think we could go to outside?”
The look of concern on the griffon’s face morphed into something she couldn’t place, but she didn’t like it. As the silence stretched on, it took all she had to keep from backing down.
Finally, those binocular eyes turned away from her, as Gurney pulled the door closed. “Come on then,” he muttered, shooting her a momentary glance as he walked past.
Surprised by the ease with which he had agreed, though still put-off by his demeanour, the mare fell into step with him as they followed the hallway. She kept her gaze mostly focused ahead, though when she glanced sideways at Gurney he would be looking forward, appearing troubled. An uncomfortable silence fell between them, broken only by the sounds of their steps.
As they turned the corner to the large courtyard doors, Gurney turned to her briefly, but closed his beak without speaking. He opened the doors and stood aside for her to pass through first, glancing back down the hallway before stepping out too.
The sky was red, the sun hidden behind the walls of the Institute. She realised how easy it was to lose track of the time of day when so few of the rooms inside had windows. Stepping out into the courtyard, her senses were assailed by the sounds and smells of nature, the gentle fresh breeze over her feathers. Or, someone’s feathers.
“Alright then.” Gurney unslung his satchel, holding it in a claw as he looked at it in thought, before proffering it to her. “Here.”
“Your satchel?”
He nodded. “Take it. It’ll probably come in useful.”
Hesitantly she took the bag from him, setting it beside her. “Thank you, Gurney.”
“No worries.” He sniffed, looking away at the surrounding windows, before turning back. “Well I guess...” he trailed off, then, grinning weakly, extended an open claw to her. “See you around.”
Glancing uncertainly, she reached up to the claw with a forehoof. The griffon gently clasped her hoof and shook it, before letting it go. He then gave her a polite nod and, without waiting for a response, turned and walked back inside. She felt she should have said something as he left, but her mind couldn’t concoct anything worthwhile.
With a clunk of the doors, she was alone. At long last, here she was; outside in the courtyard, by herself. She was free.
Why then did she feel so heavy?
Did she even want to leave? She had wanted to get outside, but beyond that, she really didn’t know. She had the option, the opportunity, but to actually take it?
She had no plan, no idea which path would have the better outcome, and so indecision kept her grounded. There was too much to consider, too much to think about. She needed time.
Still, being outside was calming, the chance to leave was right overhead should she wish to take it. Drawing a long, steadying breath, she felt freer than she ever had, and with it, a clarity she sorely needed.
She also hadn’t felt quite so lost as she had the first night of her awakening.
A patch of pink caught her eye. Picking up the satchel in her mouth, she trotted over to a flowerbed with familiar pink flowers. Zealous flowers, or something like that; these were the flowers that Lemony had showed her. The unicorn had seemed proud of them, she had been growing them.
They looked so delicate in the shade of the evening.
Dropping the satchel gently to the ground, the mare looked up, taking in the whole enclosed courtyard.
“This is the garden. I come here to read, or to get away from it all, or to scream if I’ve had a stressful day. It’s nice out here, don’t you think?”
-she closed her mouth. She didn’t feel like talking, much less shouting. Exhaled lengthily through her nose, she closed her eyes.
She flapped her wings harder and harder, climbing in altitude as she gained confidence, feeling as though flight was starting to come more readily. She felt something encouraging coming from Lemony, perhaps a shout of praise, and it warmed her.
Lemony never said a word, did she.
Carrying the satchel in her mouth, she stepped over the grass and sat beneath a tree, one with long, drooping branches and thin leaves that seemed to form a curtain around her.
The very thought of Lemony sent sharp flashes of emotions through her. It was an awful sensation, weighing heavily in her chest, like a mighty pendulum attached to her heart. Lemony was her only friend in the world, and all this time she was feeding off her, gorging on her life force like a starving parasite.
She choked back a sob. She was a starving parasite. At least, she had been starving when they had taken her in, apparently. What a life that must be, for her to want it all wiped clean. What a time she must’ve had, out there as a free changeling, to be willing to erase her very identity.
A 'fresh start', indeed. And how had she spent that? How had she wasted that?
With the edge of a knife.
...Why would anypony have volunteered to feed the parasite in the first place? Why would they want that; to help her? She felt like she had irrevocably betrayed Lemony’s and Shower’s trust, stealing something so incredibly precious; the very energy that keeps a being alive. What kind of a creature would do that?
She sighed, closing her eyes. That was the question, wasn’t it. What kind of creature was she?
She had been told so much, and knew so little. And yet even now, she was terrified of delving too deeply, for fear that what she may find could be even worse. She lifted an olive foreleg, inspecting it. This was what she was, in her internal image of herself; a green pegasus mare with amnesia. This was her Me.
This changeling thing, did it think the same as her? Was it even a her?
...She wondered... if she could shapeshift...
She blinked, dropping her hoof to the ground sharply. That was not an idea worth entertaining right now, not when she was trying to figure things out, figure herself out. If this form was not her native form, and she didn’t know how to control it, she didn’t want to get stuck in the body of someone else, or something else. She was having a bad enough crisis of self-identity already without making it worse.
No, this body was her, and she was keeping it.
...At least, for now...
...Maybe it’s like... Do I just concentrate on-
Nope! She clasped her ears with her hooves, screwing her eyes shut. Not thinking of it.
What would happen then, to her? The green pegasus her? Would she simply cease to be, a different creature taking her place?
Would it even care?
Would it still be her? Was this form simply a cloak she shrouded herself in, to be dismissed on the barest whim?
She barely knew who she was, something she had been trying to rediscover over the last few days. Maybe, after all that, it didn’t matter who she was.
She blinked, flicking an ear as a fly flew too close. It may not matter to a changeling, but it mattered to her. An intelligent creature had been wiped from existence, and she had been given what was left of its life to make something of it. A chance to live, perhaps to do better than her predecessor.
A fresh start… That’s what I am. She smiled to herself, despite everything. Maybe it’s not such a bad name.
She wondered if ‘old-her’ was still within her somewhere. A part of her said probably not, but she couldn’t help but speculate; what would the changeling think of her? Probably very little, she snorted, thinking about how far from the intended plan she had strayed.
She had been on the cusp of consciousness for hours, lying still underneath the drooping tree. The soft breeze of the sheltered courtyard had become bitingly cold in the dead of night, something she noticed as she drifted in and out of sleep, though the low branches and the many tiny leaves offered some small respite. As her mind awoke, she found herself curled inward, practically hugging herself with her wings and tail.
The fur around her face and forelimbs was matted. Her eyes were sore, and she felt completely and utterly drained. It was as if all of her emotions had been replaced by a lead weight in her chest; heavy, but finally ambivalent.
Even still, every breath of the fresh morning air was exquisite, like a balm for her soul. As she watched the world brighten, the orange light of the sun creeping down one of the brick walls, and as the chirping of birds joined the soft rustling of countless leaves, she lay on the grass beneath the tree, and just was.
Thought had long abandoned her, hurt a distant memory. All that mattered was the moment, and she was in it.
Eventually, consciousness began to reassert itself, as her limbs grew restless. She stood lethargically and stretched, rubbing away the grass stuck to her face.
A new day.
A fresh start.
Her name was Retcon, and she was free. Free to do what she wanted, to forge her own path. It was by her own volition that she had stayed, sleeping in the Institute courtyard overnight. Even though it was the hostile forest stretching out in every direction that had settled the issue, it was still an issue that she herself had settled, without anyone else’s input. No more locks, no more lies. She was here because she wanted to be here.
That’s how she rationalised it to herself.
She slipped the satchel containing her papers over her head. Smacking her parched lips, she set off back toward the entrance to the building, leading into one of the long hallways. As far as she was concerned, she was no longer one of their subjects of interest.
Her stomach grumbled, causing her to pause mid-step. It was something she had been trying to ignore. Just the thought of… it made her feel decidedly not good inside.
Reluctantly, her situation was one of the reasons she hadn’t left. The only people in the world who knew who and what she was all worked inside and, though she was loath to admit it, she still needed them. Or at least, she needed the Institute’s Warp Room, assuming it was what she thought it was.
Yeah, just the Warp Room. Nothing else.
She also had the feeling that, right now, she really shouldn’t stray too far from ponies. It was a conclusion that made sense, though she tried not to dwell on the reasoning.
The thought had crossed her mind that after her... meltdown, the whole 'changeling' story had been a total lie, but a part of her held that it was unlikely. It had always struck her as odd that an amnesiac would be brought to such a place, but a magical shapeshifting parasite would fit right in. She had known that she had been drip-fed a very stingy amount of information; both Shower and the unicorn had been moderately forthcoming about their deliberate vagueness.
Yesterday was something different. She could feel the relief as Shower spoke, distinct from the carefully tight-lipped and curated way she had talked before. The honesty, as she last spoke when she left the room.
Sky was very difficult to read, especially in the short period of time they talked as well as due to Retcon’s state of mind at the time, but she had spoken with an air of calm truth, in the way that one may look into the eye of a dragon and trust it implicitly when it says “you’re not getting out of this alive”.
She didn’t like Sky.
As always, she hadn’t been able to get a read on Gurney at all, having to rely on his alien avian facial expressions and his tone of voice. Given what she had been told on how changelings couldn’t feed off of griffons, her suspected explanation gave credence to the idea that she wasn’t what she appeared.
How much of her unfamiliarity with pony society, even for things as simple as holding her own in a conversation, was because of the amnesia? How much, she wondered, was because she wasn’t even a pony at all? At this stage she was afraid of learning more about changelings, these parasites that had apparently led an invasion of some sort on the pony capitol, attacking the pony Princesses. She had no idea what she might uncover if she went around irresponsibly asking questions. But at the same time, there were some things she needed to know about herself; first and foremost, she was hungry. The thought of sapping energy from another being rankled with her on a fundamental moral level, but the very concerning reality that she was only getting hungrier had already begun to erode her qualms. Like it or not, she needed to eat.
Perhaps, if she spoke to Shower or Gurney, they might have ideas of how to go about it. They had been keeping her fed since she had arrived, after all.
She stepped out into the large room with the big table, which was bare of food. Given the space's role as an intersection between hallways, it seemed like an ideal place to hang about. She hadn’t seen anyone yet, and didn’t quite feel up for snooping around, not after seeing the gravity stone and the kelpie and... whatever in the world was in the room next to the orb. At least if she stuck to the safe hallways, she’d have more of a chance of talking her way out of trouble if she were no longer welcome. She could always leave via the courtyard if needs be, though the thought of having to navigate the Everfree, particularly on an empty stomach…
She stepped up to the wardrobe with the glass façade, wondering how she was supposed to get a drink out of it. There were a collection of buttons to the side of the glass, each with a small number printed on them. Were they for quantity, perhaps?
As she was inspecting the many colourful cans behind the glass, she heard a muffled whoosh of air from nearby, followed after a few seconds by a click. She turned to see the door labelled ‘Warp Room’ swinging inward, and out from the room stepped a pony she had never seen before; a pegasus with an ice-blue mane that was spiked upwards. Her coat was light-cream in hue, though from the neck-down she wore a light-blue flight suit with yellow highlights.
And there it was, just as Retcon had suspected; surprise, a small jolt of alarm. The same almost-instinctive sensation of feeling she had been getting from everypony. She could taste it. It was something she just knew, but it barely registered in her mind as something out of the ordinary. In fact, it had only been unusual in its absence when she hadn’t sensed anything coming from Gurney. Emotion, which had hardly shown on the pegasus’ face, yet she had felt a twinge of that alarm as if it were her own.
She hoped she wasn’t unintentionally taking anything from this newcomer, though she had no idea how to prevent it either way.
“Oh, hey!” greeted the mare. “I haven’t seen you around before.”
“Um, you too.” Ascertaining similarities is a decent way to hold a conversation with and get to know strangers. Do you work here?”
“I do, yeah.” The newcomer smiled in a friendly sort of way. “So, are you new?”
Hmm… “No. I’m here with amnesia.”
“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.”
Retcon tried to keep her expression blank. There was no surprise coming from the pegasus. Although, there was a small amount of… sympathy? Genuine sympathy? “Thanks.” She gestured vaguely with a hoof. “What’s with the weird suit?”
The newcomer looked down at herself sheepishly. “This? Hah, I’m a… Well, I’m a part of this pro flight group, I guess you could say, this is just our uniform. In fact, it’s actually part of how I got a job here. The Institute needed a strong flyer on its roster and, well, the hours are flexible. Most of the time.”
“Oh, you’re a ‘pro flyer’, are you?” Retcon said in a mock accusatory tone, hoping it would come off as a jest.
“Heh, yeah, I’m alright I guess,” the newcomer replied humbly, shrugging. She was grinning at the jab, much to Retcon’s relief that the attempt at humour had functioned as intended. “What about you? You flown much since you got here?”
“Not much,” admitted Retcon. “I can stay in the air, just… not had much practice.
“Well hey, that’s all it takes! The more time you put in, the more you get out.”
“Sure.” What was I… Oh yeah. Retcon gestured to the glass cabinet. “Do you know how this thing works?”
“The vending machine?” The newcomer stepped up close to look. “Yeah, you’ve gotta hit the buttons on the right there.”
“Um, which ones?”
“The ones that… Okay, you see these little labels next to each can? Just type in the numbers for the one you want. Which would you like?”
“I don’t really know…”
“Here.” The pegasus reached over and pressed two numbers. There was a momentary whirring, and one of the cans suddenly fell forward. “Try that one.”
Retcon gingerly pushed open the flap at the base of the wardrobe and took the can. It was a different one to the one she had before. The writing on the can was similarly colourful and big, and annoying to decipher. “Thank you.”
“Name’s Misty Fly, nice to meet ya!”
The can hissed as she pulled open the tab at the top. “My name is Retcon.”
There it was again; alarm, but just a taste of it. Retcon looked up at Misty Fly, whose expression had frozen in a look of friendly interest, but it was that acrid and sharp sensation that gave her away.
Misty Fly recovered quickly, looking for all the world as if nothing were wrong. “That’s an unusual name,” she said lightly.
Retcon smiled weakly. “So I’ve heard.”
“Can I ask how you got that name?”
She’s fishing for information. Retcon took a sip as she thought, the drink was similar to the previous one; sharp but very sweet. “I chose it. I just liked the sound of it. Must’ve heard it somewhere, before I lost my memory,” she said, looking Misty Fly straight in the eye.
Misty Fly shuffled her wings. “So, what’s been going on since I’ve been away?”
Retcon glanced down at the can she was holding, swirling it around. “My entire life happened, I guess. Gurney and... and Shower, they showed me around a bit.” She looked up. “You guys have way too many doors.”
Misty Fly snorted. “Took me ages to figure out my way around.” She looked briefly down each hallway. “So, what are you up to, is Gurney or somepony with you?”
I think I like the other drink better, but this is still nice. “No, just me, but I do want to talk with Gurney. Thought I might wait around here.”
“Isn’t that his satchel?”
Oh yeah, my papers. “Yes. He said I could use it.”
The suspicion abated somewhat. Were ponies really that trusting?
“What did you want to talk about with him, anything I could help with?” Misty Fly asked.
She felt a jolt of something… dreadful. Something she realised she’d tasted before, though she hadn’t had the chance to consider it. Fear, of her. It was only for a moment, and it wasn’t very strong, but there was no question; Misty Fly knew what she was, and as she’d suspected, ponies had very low opinions on changelings.
It had been tempting to talk openly about her nature to the stranger just to guage the reaction, but the fear response surprised her. It would perhaps be prudent to ask about the typical view ponies had on changelings before outing herself, especially if knowledge of the Invasion was widespread. This required further study.
To her credit, Misty Fly recovered quickly, though even a regular pony might have noticed something was amiss from her brief shift of expression. “I mean, have you had breakfast yet? Want me to grab you something?”
“Um, no thanks,” replied Retcon.
“Alright then.”
What is she thinking? Wait, would have it been better to say yes? Ack, too late now.
The new pegasus took a sharp breath and continued, “Cool, well, I need to go and-” She gestured vaguely with a wing. “Well anyway, I’ll see you around. Nice you meet you!” She smiled, but there wasn’t much behind it.
“Uh, you too.” There was a mixture of sensations coming from Misty Fly as she turned left, all too muddled and weak to make any assessment.
She sipped the sharp drink as she thought; the pegasus had seemed pleasant enough, right up until Retcon had mentioned her name. Of course, those who worked at the Institute knew of the word as a memory wipe drug. Presumably, Misty Fly must have known about her history, and using the name of the drug that wiped her memory must have struck her as odd.
Should she have said that she knew her own secret? She wasn’t sure, not even of how much Misty Fly knew. Keeping her changeling identity secret wasn’t something she had really considered a necessity, but the sharp emotions she had received had raised doubts. But even then, Shower had never seemed all that afraid. Was it perhaps only fear that Retcon would find out what she was?
The emotion was rather directed…
The possibility of presenting a false name did occur to her, but the thought was distasteful. Despite its origin, and in fact due in part to it, ‘Retcon’ was who she was. To pretend that she was someone else would be dishonest.
“You!”
Retcon jumped, almost spilling her drink. Following the voice from down a hallway, she could see an apoplectic Shower marching toward her, with a concerned-looking Misty Fly in tow.
“Where in the world have you been!?” bellowed Shower.
“Where in the world have you been!?” bellowed Shower.
Frowning, Retcon set her drink on the table. “Outside.”
“What were you doing outside?”
“Sleeping.”
Shower gaped. “You slept outside? Why?”
“…Because I was sleepy?”
Shower pressed a forehoof to her face in frustration. “I cannot believe you.”
“I’m not lying,” said Retcon defensively.
“No, that’s not-” she trailed off.
Misty Fly stood several paces behind, looking confused and anxious. Shower was acting angry, but her emotions tasted different. Worry, an awful lot of it, and it was directed right at her.
“I thought you’d left,” muttered Shower.
Retcon sniffed. “So had I.”
“Um,” Misty Fly piped up, “anypony wanna fill me in?”
Shower maintained eye contact for a moment longer, before turning to the other pegasus. “Yeah, plan aborted. Retcon found out.”
Misty Fly tensed up. “Found out?”
“She knows she’s a, y’know, a changeling.”
“Uh, hi.” Retcon halfheartedly waved a hoof at Misty Fly, whose expression had frozen into one of shock, her pupils the size of pinpricks. The sensations Retcon was receiving from her were chaotic and unpleasant.
“Oh,” said Misty Fly absently. Her eyes were locked on to Retcon.
“So yeah, we’re kinda playing it by- Mist, you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine.”
“No, she’s afraid,” stated Retcon.
“And blurting out what other ponies are feeling doesn’t help them feel any better,” scolded Shower.
“Oh, right.” Yeah, the fear spiked for a second there. “Sorry.”
“Don’t mention it…” Misty Fly said under her breath.
“…Okay then.”
“Do you need a minute, Mist?” asked Shower in a gentler tone.
“No, I’m fine! Really, I’m a- I’m just a bit … freaked at the moment.” Misty Fly looked away.
Retcon turned to Shower. “Should I go?”
Shower scowled at her. “You’re not going anywhere, missy. What did you think you were doing sleeping outside?”
“Well I… I didn’t know if I should have left, but… I guess I just needed the space.”
Shower seemed to deflate, pausing for a few seconds before continuing in a softer tone, “Why did you stay?”
Retcon dipped her head. “I... I don’t know. Guess it seemed like I should.”
“Wait,” started Misty Fly, “how long have you known?”
Retcon shrugged. “Yesterday.”
“What happened?”
Retcon blanched, and looked away. That was the last thing she wanted to relive.
“There was... a misunderstanding,” interrupted Shower. She spoke in the same manner as when she talked with Retcon when first they met, Retcon could feel it. “She figured some of it out, and… Sky decided it was best to explain everything.”
“Dang, Sky called it?” Misty Fly chuckled. “Wouldn’t wanna question her maj.”
Shower’s expression didn’t change, but Retcon could tell she was a little amused. “So yeah, figuring out where to go next. I should have collared you when you came through, but somepony went walkabouts last night.” She shot Retcon a short glare. “Pass the message on if anyone else turns up, would ya Mist?”
“So you’re not…” Misty Fly glanced at Retcon, her muddled emotions spiking, churning as she spoke. “…I mean, you’re not thinking of starting again?”
Retcon felt as though she had been doused in ice water.
No.
Shower's expression took on a particularly flinty look, though not aimed at anyone in particular. “No, I don’t think that’s a great idea right now.”
Retcon glanced worriedly between the two of them. “You’re not wiping my brain again.”
“Right, no. Of course. S-sorry,” Misty Fly stammered.
“Still,” Shower began, giving Retcon a serious look. “Where do we go from here?”
“What, I get a say?”
“It’s your life, and your old plan is out the window.”
“Not my plan.” Retcon sniffed. “The changeling’s plan. The changeling is dead now.”
Shower paused, frowning. “Is that how you see it?” she asked, somewhat softly.
Retcon shrugged. “It wasn’t me.”
“Um, but you’re still the same changeling, aren’t you?” asked Misty Fly, sounding confused. “Or is it different when you transform?”
Retcon stiffened. “I… haven’t tried.”
“You haven’t… Seriously? Dude, if I were a changeling, the first thing I’d do is play with transforming. You could look like anyone, how cool would that be!”
Dropping eye contact with Misty Fly, Retcon muttered under her breath, “If I was a pony, I wouldn’t be at risk of losing my face.”
“Huh?”
A spike of concern came from Shower. “What’s that?”
Retcon shook her head. “Just… Nothing.”
Shower regarded her for a moment. Drop it, she thought to herself, I don’t want to talk about it.
“Right,” the pegasus eventually said, though Retcon had a feeling the topic wasn’t over. “So, the reason I was after you; Sky wants a word.”
The mention of the white unicorn set her teeth on edge. “What about?”
“This whole… situation. You know where the ground floor containment cells are, right?” Retcon nodded, and Shower continued, “Her room is at the far end, after the very last cell. Try there.”
“Okay.” Her response was mostly a platitude, she wasn’t exactly thrilled at having to talk with Sky again. She had half a mind not to go, but decided to at least play nice with Shower. Also, despite disliking Sky’s demeanour, she was still somewhat curious.
“Cool, well I better be, y’know,” Misty Fly gestured away with a wing. “Back to work.”
Shower nodded. “What’re you on?”
“Well I was supposed to be on... paperwork today,” she said, giving Retcon a side glance. “I guess that’s off the table?”
So the paper's all over the floor?
Shower had a peculiar look. “Not exactly. Like I say, we’re playing things by ear.”
“Right.” Another brief glance at Retcon. “In that case, I’ll take another look at those reports from the Empire, see if we can find Lem's missing lavastone.” She grinned at them, and waved a wing. “Guess I’ll see you around- Retcon, wasn’t it?”
“Uhh, yeah.” She suddenly felt sick to her stomach.
“Well, later you two!” with that, Misty Fly turned and trotted down one of the hallways.
“That didn’t go well,” muttered Retcon.
“Mmrh...” She took Shower's response as agreement. She kind of preferred when Shower wasn’t wordy.
Steeling herself with a deep breath, she turned toward the pegasus. “Um, how is Lemony?” she asked in an undertone.
Retcon withered under the look she received, but there was no spike of hatred or anger to accompany it. Shower sighed. “She’s alright, nothing that won’t heal. She’s more shook up than anything.”
Oh, that’s a relief. “Shower, I- ... I’m really sorry, what I did... I, just... I’m sorry.”
Shower turned her head away. “Yeah...”
“Um, could you maybe tell her? That, I’m sorry I hurt her.” It felt terrible to say out loud, but she was kind of glad she managed it.
After an uncomfortable pause, Shower nodded lightly. “...Yeah, of course.”
Retcon felt like she could melt into the floor. “Thank you.”
The pegasus sniffed suddenly. “Anyway, Sky. You better go talk to her. And if you wander off again I swear I’ll kick your sorry flank into the middle of next week.”
Retcon was shaken from her thoughts as she came to the great metal doors, inspiring in her a deep-seated discomfort at the notion of what lay behind. Six metal doors, though she only knew of what was contained behind five: the clever manticore, grinning kelpie, the consciousness within the orb, the motionless unicorn, and at the very end, the furious Windigo.
As she passed the fifth door along, she briefly considered opening the viewing hatch and taking a look inside, but on the whole, perhaps she didn’t want to know.
…She wondered briefly if the fifth cell was empty.
Right at the end of the hallway, just after the Windigo’s cell, was an ordinary wooden door she hadn’t paid much mind. The door handle looked worn from use, and the wood could’ve done with a fresh coat of paint. Unlike many of the rooms in the facility, there was no label nor room number on the door. It was just a plain old door.
So this is where Sky’s office is, she surmised. It wasn’t really what she had expected from one with such a commanding personality, hiding down here.
The door suddenly swung open just before she reached it, startling her, and out from behind it appeared Sky, bearing a light resting scowl. “Ah, I did wonder,” said Sky, perhaps to herself. The unicorn then retreated back inside, leaving the door open.
Shifting her weight nervously, Retcon stepped inside.
In a strange way, the room was too tidy to be a mess, but too chaotic to be considered well looked-after. The worn desk was strewn with papers and files and boxes, though there seemed to be some sort of system even if she couldn’t discern it. There was no kind of desk ornamentation other than a small, sprawling stoney structure, as if a rock had tried to grow like a plant. Up against one wall was a collection of large potted plants of different kinds, all spilling over with large green leaves but with no flowers. The wooden floor around the plants was in dire need of a clean. Against the adjacent wall was a bookshelf, containing no more than five books, instead mostly populated by boxes of different sizes. There were no windows in the office, though there was a second door. A storage room, perhaps?
The door clicked softly shut behind her.
“This is a weird place for an office,” noted Retcon, glancing around. She nodded at the hallway, “Next to the windy-thing and all those…”
Sky had retreated behind the desk to a cushion. A meadow-green aura lit up around her horn, and a seemingly random assortment of papers lifted up from the desk and circled around her, each surrounded by the same green aura, a spectacle from which Retcon couldn’t tear her eyes away. The papers coalesced into a pile on the corner of the desk, allowing some of the wood of the desk’s surface to be visible under the clutter.
“The Windigo, yes. I am its warden.” She pushed a mug to one side with a hoof. “You can sit.”
“Um, there aren’t any seats?”
Sky paused, looking at her as if she’d said something silly. “Alright, stand then.”
Feeling decidedly uncomfortable already, Retcon sat herself on the wooden floor in front of the near-side to the desk. She had wanted to ask about the green levitation thing, but felt like she shouldn’t talk first.
“So,” began Sky, “what’s the plan?”
Retcon blinked. “The plan?”
“Yeah. What’s the plan?” she repeated in the exact same intonation.
“Well… I guess I’m getting kinda hungry, so… maybe sort that out first.”
“Okay,” Sky said patiently. “How?”
“…I don’t know.”
The unicorn hummed, like she had expected the answer. “And in the long-term?”
“Um, I’d like to leave.”
“You could leave now.”
“No, I mean in the long-term.”
Sky’s eyes seemed to glint. “Why not leave now?” she asked carefully.
“Well… well because…” There were all sorts of reasons, there was… Well she didn’t want to right now.
Retcon frowned. She… The Institute was the only place she was familiar with, its employees the only people she knew. Plus it was in the middle of nowhere. She couldn’t just leave on a whim, not when she didn’t have a-
A piece of paper was placed on the desk in front of her. Glancing at it, she realised she recognised it; the signed agreement between Sky and the changeling. Concerned, she glanced at the satchel she was wearing.
“No, this is the original,” explained Sky. “You have a copy. This was the plan. Question is…” She leaned forward, crossing her forelimbs over the desk. “What do you want to do about it?”
“…I… Well, the plan was to trick me into thinking I’m a pony, right?” Sky didn’t move to respond, so Retcon continued. “So… I guess it is no good.”
“I wouldn’t say that,” Sky enunciated slowly. “We could certainly get things back on track.”
…You don’t mean- Retcon’s wings flared. “No, there’s no way you’re wiping my brain again!” I just said! What is with these ponies?
Sky quirked an eyebrow, before relenting. “Shower and I discussed the possibility. She was… vehemently of the opinion that such a path would be unadvisable. The repeat use of Compound B67, especially in large doses, can be problematic for the waking mind.”
Retcon let out the breath she was holding. Shower said that?
Sky tapped the paper with a hoof. “So, would you consider our agreement void?”
“…I suppose? Wait, I can just say that, and that’s it?”
“Whether you remember making the agreement or not, this was you. We wanted your co-operation, and this,” she tapped it again, “was your price. We got what we wanted, so this whole arrangement was just the fulfilment of our side of the bargain.” She shrugged. “I keep my promises.”
Retcon frowned, concerned. “Co-operation for what? What did you want from me?”
Sky regarded her seriously. “Information on changelings.”
“What for?”
“Like I said prior, we didn’t know about your kind’s existence until the Wedding Invasion. I think it’s only sensible to get to know one’s natural predators,” the unicorn said calmly.
Retcon’s stomach churned. “I don’t want to be a predator. I don’t- …Ponies are intelligent, it’s horrible…” she trailed of.
Sky shrugged, but said nothing.
“Natural predator to ponies? Is… is that what we are?” Retcon asked, stumbling slightly on the word ‘we’. She still had difficulty relating to the idea of not being a pony.
“Aye. Although of course, not in the traditional sense. Changelings don’t need to kill and eat the flesh. You sap energy from still-living prey without inflicting physical harm. But otherwise, yes; without ponies off of which to feed, a changeling would starve.” Sky’s tone was level as she spoke, though Retcon felt increasingly nauseous.
“How can you be so calm talking about that?” exclaimed Retcon.
Sky snorted. “Because I’d like to see you try.”
Retcon wilted. “Try what?”
The unicorn dropped eye contact, as if she had grown bored. In the lull, Retcon glanced down at her hooves. Is she testing me? Trying to get me to say the right thing?
“...What should I do?” she asked timidly.
Sky raised a brow. “I’m not your Queen. Can’t you think for yourself?”
“Of course I can think for myself,” she groused. “I’m-”
She felt lost, a very familiar feeling at this point. She needed guidance, and if she wouldn’t get it from a pony, perhaps she could get it from a changeling.
Old her. The her that had wanted the mind wipe, to erase her identity, to run away from her own kind and become a pony. To become the her in the here and now.
Could that changeling be trusted?
She drew a deep breath. “If I hadn’t... found out, what would’ve been next?”
Sky leaned back from the desk, almost looking smug. “We would have begun introducing you to the others. You had maybe two weeks of rehabilitation left, after which you would have been removed out from here and our role would come to an end.”
“And you would have set me up with somewhere to live?” Sky didn’t respond, which Retcon took as an affirmative. “Is that all still possible?”
“Sure,” said Sky.
Retcon frowned, a thought nagging at her. ”Sky… What do ponies think of changelings?”
The unicorn’s expression shifted slightly. As usual, her emotions were frustratingly difficult to read, but something about them changed. “It would depend on who you would ask.”
“The average pony. Because, I was talking to Misty Fly, and-“
“You spoke with Misty Fly?” Sky asked suddenly.
Retcon was taken aback. “…Yes?”
Sky huffed. “She can be very punctual.”
Retcon paused, but it appeared Sky had finished talking. “…Well… When I started talking changeling stuff, she started getting… antsy?”
Sky nodded. “I won’t sugar-coat it; ponies are a prey species. Changelings are typically met with revulsion and fear amongst ponies. The Wedding Invasion was a very public event.” Her eyes lost a little of their stony edge. “Ponies are a rather trusting sort, but changelings deal with deception by nature, their business is antithetical to ours. Unmasked changelings have been run out of towns when discovered. If you want my advice, keep your identity to yourself.”
Retcon swallowed. “…O-oh...”
“That’s part of the reason why you wanted the mind wipe,” continued Sky, unperturbed. “It’s easier for one to keep a secret if it is secret even to oneself. You said something similar.”
The notion that ponies didn’t like changelings wasn’t unexpected, but to such an extent? It shook her. Seemingly, the more she learned about changelings, the worse the creatures sounded. Was it even worth it to try living amongst ponies, as if she were one of them?
But, how would anyone know? I didn’t even know until…
“Why are you helping me?” she asked.
Sky tilted her head, frown deepening. “We had a deal.”
“No, but- Why did you even make a deal with a changeling in the first place? Everything you’ve said… It sounds like I’m… the enemy.”
Sky blinked. “…Well…” She took a breath. “…The ones in the Invasion were. … That was Equestria’s introduction to your kind. The Invasion was bad enough, but add on to that the notion of being fed upon by parasites, and ponies aren’t exactly thrilled.” Retcon winced. Sky paused, chewing her cheek. “As for why we helped you; you asked. Had we turned you away, you would have died.” Her tone was the lowest Retcon had heard it. “You were starving, your hive was failing and had all but abandoned you. You had nowhere to turn.” She shrugged lethargically. “So you come to us, your prey. Yes, your enemy. And, you make us an offer; ‘keep me alive, and I’ll tell you anything you want to know’. It’s a hard offer to turn down.”
There was something profoundly terrifying about hearing how close she had come to death, particularly when she didn’t even remember it.
Her throat closed up.
She was an other. An outsider. How could she ever be welcomed into a pony society? How long could she last before the truth came out? The way she reacted when the truth came out…
How could she ever get energy to survive? How could she ever stomach it, feeding off of other living, thinking beings?
A changeling hive... could she track one down? What were other changelings even like? Would she fit in with her own kind, or was that part of her gone now, replaced with the mind of one who would be a pony?
Could she ever belong anywhere?
But then…
Lemony
The pink unicorn had been so kind. More than that, Retcon realised; she had been genuine. Even knowing what Retcon was, what she had been doing…
She coughed into a forelimb. She didn’t need to cough, but her throat was feeling uncomfortably restricted.
“Do you need a minute?” asked Sky, her voice level.
“I… don’t really know what I want,” she replied, exhaling deeply as she did.
Sky hummed shortly. “…You were given a fairly large dose of B67, but only the once. I’m not going to push the issue, but if you wanted, you could have one more shot at a fresh start. This would be your last chance at a clean reset.” Retcon shuddered, but Sky continued unprompted, “I wouldn’t recommend it, but you should know. Option 2; leave. If you so wish, we could take you to a town of your choice and leave you to it. Walk alone, live among ponies, find a new hive, leave Equestria, your call. If you want out, I will acquiesce.
“Option 3….” She reached up and slowly tapped the paper again. “I’m happy to consider this void, but I’m still willing to host you here and set you up with a place to live as per the original agreement. Beyond that, that’s up to you. There are other options, but I can’t tell you which you should take. Your choice.” She got to her hooves. “Sleep on it.”
Retcon’s mind was muddled, a hazy mess. She felt like she had a lot to think about, but her brain wasn’t up to the task. She wanted to focus, but concepts and thoughts would flit around her like moths.
It was sorely tempting to just continue as if she had never found out she was different. To live in a town with other ponies and just be happy and normal, it sounded wonderful.
But the ways in which she was different were too great to ignore. The spike of fear, though weak, that she had sensed from Misty Fly. The way that ponies might react if ever she were found out. The worry that she might shape-shift, lose her body, and not be able to change back. The only identity she had, lost forever. Could a changeling take any form they can imagine, or could they only mimic already-existing ponies? If it was the latter, then whose face was she wearing?
No, she would never shape-shift. She couldn’t risk it.
So, ponies hated changelings because a hive attacked the pony capitol and the pony Princesses, and because nopony wanted their life force drained by a gross parasite. Changelings on the other hoof needed love energy from ponies to survive.
It just didn’t seem feasible.
She couldn’t return to whatever hive she came from, that appeared conclusive. She had apparently very nearly starved to death, and had given up her very identity of self to escape. And what was that part in her undoctored file about being killed if she returned to the Hive?
She didn’t know much about the changeling she used to be, but she thought she could trust it on this; seeking out this old Hive wasn’t an option.
What then could she do? She could go it alone of course, but the thought of leaving to fend for herself had become less appealing since learning about her dietary requirements. She had been kept alive here, she wasn’t so sure she should leave just yet, and that indecision was enough to make her default to inactivity.
But then again, if she had only been able to feed off of Lemony… maybe she was wasting time by staying.
She stopped in front of the great metal door to the containment cell. It was the one she had been in before, where the orb was kept. The consciousness within it had perhaps been the first to talk to her frankly and unreservedly, like they were no different from one another. Since learning that she was indeed something else, it had started to feel like there was very little to separate her from the subjects of interest kept behind the metal doors. TV.232 “Manacrystal” She checked the door label, and to make double-certain she wasn’t walking into the wrong room, slid the viewing hatch open. Satisfied she recognised the deep purple-blue crystal on the mottled stone podium, Retcon twisted the handle, opened the door, and stepped inside.
There were no sounds as she stepped inside but for the smooth swinging of the heavy metal hinges, and the sounds of her hooves on the flat stoney floor. “Uh, hello?” she called out.
It took a moment for the orb to respond. “…Mhmm…?” The crystal glowed pink from deep inside as it spoke.
“Oh, sorry.” She suddenly felt guilty. “Were you asleep?”
“Uhmm… No, I…” It definitely sounded like it had just woken up. “No, I’m here.”
“I’m really sorry, I should’ve… I’ll come back later.” Stupid, didn’t think.
“No no, it’s alright,” the voice said, if blearily. “Stay, just… just give me a…”
Retcon stopped, foreleg half-raised, as she had been turning to leave. She hadn’t been thinking, she shouldn’t have gone straight in. She felt like she should go, but the request was in conflict with that. “Umm… Sorry I woke you,” she mumbled.
“It’s-…” The voice paused. Retcon imagined it might’ve yawned had it a mouth, but it didn’t seem to vocalise those sorts of sounds. “It’s okay, you didn’t, I don’t sleep, exactly. Just… not really with it.” The voice sounded amicable, at least.
Retcon lowered her forelimb, allowing silence to lapse.
Eventually, “Mmh, excuse me,” the orb said, sounding somewhat less drowsy. “Dear Retcon, she of the golden eyes, what can I do for you?”
Her face felt warm. “I guess I just wanted to talk. But if this is a bad time-”
“Tommyrot. What’s on your mind?”
Retcon blinked. “Well… I think I’ve found out what happened two weeks ago that spooked everyone.” She felt a bit silly for understating the issue.
“Is that so?”
“Umm…” She took a steadying breath. “It was because of a changeling.” She winced, bracing for a reaction.
It wasn’t a reaction she had been expecting.
“And what’s that when it’s at home?” asked the orb.
“Uh-…” Retcon’s mind seemed to go blank. “Oh, well… they’re…” How do I spin this… Word it softly like it’s not a big deal, or big-up changelings and see what the reaction is? …Maybe, just the facts. “Umm, changelings are these… creatures, that feed off of the love energy of ponies. Like, emotion parasites.” Even stating it as clinically as that gave her a bad taste in her mouth, but she tried to keep her tone neutral.
“Oh… Huh. That sounds unpleasant.”
“Yeah…”
“So what happened then?” The consciousness asked. “Did they bring it here? Is everyone alright?”
“Yes. Well… yes. It apparently gave itself up. Sky sent almost everyone here away after that, but I think they’re starting to come back now. I saw Misty Fly come in, but she might be early.”
“That’s good. It’d be nice to be out of here again,” the voice groused. “So, paint me a picture; what do these changelings look like?”
“Oh, erm, that’s the thing; changelings are shape-shifters. They can look like normal ponies.”
“Shape-shi-…” The voice broke off suddenly. “…The Canterlot Wedding. There was an attack last year, wasn’t there? I’m sure they said it was shape-shifters.”
Ah, crap. “I think so? Don’t remember that far back.” She was glad the consciousness couldn’t see the face she was making.
“But of course, your amnesia. Apologies.”
“So you know about the… the Invasion?” Probably don’t need to explain much in that case.
“Mmm, not all that much, truth be told. Just that it happened, and it was stopped. And that the… leader of the invaders had shape-shifted into Princess Candenza. Pretty much everypony who works here was there at the time, and they get all sort of quiet… When all I can do is talk and listen, that’s no good. So, I stopped bringing it up.”
“O-oh.” That’s… a lot to think about… “Well, yeah… I don’t know much about the Invasion, but it was a hive of changelings that attacked. The changeling they brought here was the first one they have been able to... capture.”
“I see.” The pink glow faded as the crystal fell silent for several seconds. “Thank you for coming to tell me, it’s maddening being in the dark. How did you find out, have you seen it?”
“Um, no,” she answered hastily, then, “Well, I have seen some pictures.”
“Indeed?” asked the voice, sounding very intrigued.
An expectant silence followed, to which Retcon grimaced. “Yeah, hang on.” Turning, she rifles through the satchel and retrieved the folder. Opening it on the floor, she flipped to the page with the two charcoal drawings of the creature.
“It looks... kinda gross,” she described. “Like a big insect, but pony-shaped, maybe same size.” Glancing up at the orb, she paused for some kind of reaction. Taking the quiet as a sign to continue, she looked back down into the blank alien eyes. “It’s coat is black and shiny, I don’t think it has fur. No mane, either, though it has a... sail or something where a mane should be...” That's me. The thought arose unbidden. She felt queasy, and took a steadying breath before she continued. “It has a sharp horn, and thin wings, like a fly. The limbs have... holes in them. They look like they go all the way through, dunno how that works. And...” she gulped. “The eyes are completely blank. Just... one solid colour.”
“Hmm. And the teeth?”
“Oh, um, it’s mouth is closed, but... it’s got two big fangs sticking out of it’s upper jaw.” Those things do not look comfortable.
…What would it feel like to have those teeth?
The crystal went quiet. Then, “How interesting... I think I may have heard of these creatures before.”
Retcon blinked. “What.”
“In the village where I...” The voice trailed off in thought, it’s tone low and ponderous. “...Yes, there was a story of such a creature. I mean it was only hearsay, but they said of the village two hills over that the husband of the smith was replaced by such a creature. The way it was told… one moment the stallion was there, and the next he had become a beast; a black hide, as wax. Eyes empty and glowing, and with fangs like a serpent. Then it ran. ...I’m not sure whatever happened to the smith's husband.” The orb glowed pink as the voice hummed. “We never saw it, but mayhaps that was a changeling? I don’t think I ever really took it seriously before, but you have to admit it sounds similar.”
“Y-yeah.” Retcon's voice squeaked unexpectedly as she spoke. She cleared her throat before continuing, “That sounds about right.”
“Hm! So the old coot was right.” There was a long pause before the consciousness spoke again, and when it did, it’s tone of voice had changed, becoming more careful. “Retcon, how long did you say you have been here?”
Yeah... “About, two weeks.”
“I thought you said three days.”
“Yeah. That’s only as far back as I can remember. Turns out I’ve been here longer.”
“I see... How long have you known?”
“Since yesterday, pretty much straight after I was here.” Yesterday... Feels like it was so long ago.
“Goodness...” the voice muttered. “And you had no idea?”
“Nope. ...Did you?”
“Hah! No, not a clue.” There was a moment of hesitation, after which the voice had lost all joviality. “Oh, Retcon, no… no, I had no idea.”
“Yeah.” She sniffed. “Everyone else did.”
“…Oh?”
“Mmh.” She nodded.
“…Why have you come to tell me?” the voice asked.
Retcon flapped her wings. “I don’t know, I guess… you were nice, so…” The consciousness didn’t immediately reply, so, sniffling again, Retcon pressed on, “I just needed to talk. And, I can’t talk with them because… Just, because. And I don’t know what I’m supposed to do and-” Her voice hitched, vision starting to swim. “A-and I h-hurt Lemony.” She averted her eyes toward the floor. “I didn’t mean to! I was just, so scared, I just wanted them to back off, but… I hurt her.”
The crystal glowed a soft pink. “Is Lemony well?”
Retcon nodded miserably. “Shower says she’ll be okay. I haven’t seen her. Don’t want her to.”
“Okay,” the voice said calmly. “Why don’t you tell me what happened.”
Retcon sniffled. “Just being stupid. I saw the pony with the amulet next door, and I found a file that said they had drugged me, wiped my brain. It all seemed… so important.” She shook her head gently. “My whole world has been in the last few days. I knew they were all lying to me, but when I read that, I kinda… snapped.” She shuddered. “I just wanted to wake up.”
“…And then?” came the prompt.
“…Lemony caught me reading my file. The real one. I just… needed to leave, but she called for Sky and Shower and… they just kept crowding me. I…” She took a steadying breath. “Then Sky started talking. I don’t like her, and she doesn’t like me, but… I think she’s telling the truth.”
“Yeah, she’s a weird one, our Sky.”
Retcon paused as she registered the consciousness’ seriously-spoken words, then, despite herself, smirked. “Heh, she is.”
“Ah, but hark at us!” continued the voice. “A manacrystal and a changeling, calling a pony weird.”
“No, but, everypony else is pretty regular. Sky is weird.” She gestured around with a forelimb. “What is she here? Like the boss or something?”
“Pffft. Would that I knew. She has a leadership role of sorts, but she never talks about herself. Not even to the others, I don’t think. She has no title or the like, not one that I’ve ever heard, but she walks around like she owns the shop. … She’s not really one to lie, though, but for what that says about your position…”
“It’s not just that. I kind of… get a feeling for other ponies’ emotions. And the nice ones make me feel… nice. I’m guessing that’s not normal for ponies.”
“Mmhm,” the voice affirmed.
“But not Gurney. Apparently changelings can’t… I can’t… get anything from griffons.”
The consciousness hummed. “What is it like? Being a changeling, I mean?”
Retcon frowned, inspecting an olive foreleg. “Still figuring that part out. It’s kind of… creepy, to be honest.”
“Really?” Even though she couldn’t sense anything from the orb, she thought she could detect sympathy in it's tone.
“It’s like… like I have the brain of a pony, like this is how I see myself. And then I’m told that this isn’t me, and I see this thing, this sketch, and I don’t see me.” She shook her head lightly. “I don’t really know how to navigate it.”
“So, you’re still a green pegasus right now? You can take another form?”
She shivered. “Yeah… It sounds like it, but… no thanks. I’m not doing that.”
The consciousness was quiet for a few seconds. “...And what about the love energy?”
Retcon grimaced. “I don’t know. I need to talk to Gurney about it. Probably less weird if I talk with him.” She paused to take a deep breath. “They’ve been keeping me alive somehow since I’ve been here. Don’t fully get it, but I think... Lemony might have been important.” She stamped a hoof, scowling. “I hate thinking about it. I don’t want to be a parasite, it’s... Urgh...”
“...But you’re getting hungry.”
Retcon nodded miserably. “...Kinda,” she admitted in a small voice.
“...Well then... I suppose we’ve found why you’re here,” the voice offered, light-heartedly. “Well, on behalf of this facility’s objects of interest, welcome to the team, I suppose.”
Sniffing again, Retcon couldn’t help but give a small smile. “Thanks.” ...That reminds me. “Um, what’s with that unicorn next door? Freaked me out when I saw him.”
“Ah. I don’t know who it is, but it’s to do with the Alicorn Amulet he bears. Nasty cursed object it is. It corrupts the wearer with the offer of power. The Institute has come across several over the years, and they can’t be removed except by the bearer themselves. The gentlecolt next door, I hear, had managed to kill two ponies before the Institute got him. He’s in some kind of magically-induced stasis, but that’s about all I know. I think he’s under Sparkler's purview. Don’t go in that room, by the by, I don’t know how the stasis works.”
Well, that’s pleasant... “Right... I haven’t met Sparkler.”
“Hmm... Have you met Bonnie yet?”
“No.”
“Well, watch for a cream-coated earth pony with a two-tone mane. She’s very pleasant company, but... whenever the Canterlot Invasion is mentioned, she clams up. Most everyone at the Institute was there, as I say, but it seems to have affected Bonnie moreso than anypony. I reckon I could guess... well, I thought you ought to know.”
…Oh. “Noted.” This stupid invasion. “So…” She scuffed the floor with a hoof. “…What do you think?”
“About…” The voiced hummed, the crystal glowing as it spoke. “Well, you’re unusual, I’ll give you that. But I suppose my sense of normalcy was warped long ago. I can understand how other ponies might, as you put it, find a changeling ‘creepy’, but I literally haven’t the stomach for it.” It paused briefly. “That sinking feeling in your belly, the chill down your spine; I’m no longer capable of that. It’s hard to be afraid of what lurks in the dark when it can’t hurt me, and what matter is darkness when it is all I can do to hear? Now, in a way, I am what lurks. The cursed manacrystal; one touch and, like poor Meadowlark, your body rots without you.” The voice chuckled. “It’s a pleasure to make the acquaintance of a fellow, dear Retcon.”
The griffon squawked, wings whipping out as he jumped. The wide, flat box he was holding tumbled to the floor. In the stillness that followed, the door he had been opening gently bumped into his flank.
“…Retcon?” he started, eyes wide. “You’re here?”
“Oh, uh, yeah,” she said sheepishly. “…Hi?”
Gurney’s expression shifted slightly a few times as he appeared to process her appearance. “I-I thought you had left?”
“Well, uhh,” she rubbed the back of her next, “I wasn’t sure… I needed some space, and… And I couldn’t leave my books, right?”
The griffon stared at her with his beak ajar. Just as she was starting to regret her choice of words, he snorted. “No, of course, we wouldn’t want you leaving your comics behind.” Turning to glance at his outstretched wings, he sucked a breath through his beak. “Ow.”
“Are you okay?”
Gurney gave his wings an experimental flap, then folded them against his sides. “Yeah, I think I just hit the doorframe,” he said, leaning to pick up the box off of the floor.
“Oh, sorry.” Retcon gestured to the box, concerned. “That’s not dangerous, is it?”
“No, it’s fine, it’s just pizza.” He opened the lid, revealing a few folded slices of food bunched up together at one end. The lid read ‘Jubilee Pizza’ on the top. “Huh, the mushrooms fell off, but we’re good.” He held the box outward. “You want some?”
That’s what I want to talk about. Frowning, Retcon leaned forward, sampling the smell of the greasy food. The base looked like it was made out of the same material as the box, and it was topped with what appeared to be melted cheese and some form of red paste. She assumed the burnt-looking objects were mushrooms, since they were collected together away from the rest. It appeared palatable, so she gingerly took a slice with a hoof. “Thanks,” she said, eyeing it critically as she held it aloft by the outer edge, where it drooped sadly.
Gurney took a piece and closed the lid. “So, do you think you’ll be staying long?” he asked carefully.
Retcon watched as he took a bite of the pizza. Glancing at her slice, she took a hesitant bite of the thin end. It wasn’t very warm, but the depth of flavour surprised her for such a simple and plain-looking thing. It somehow tasted of warmth and comfort. “Mmh… I’m not sure. I need to figure some stuff out first.” She took a larger bite, savouring as she chewed. “‘Cos…” she began, talking through her food, “this pizza is great, but… I’m guessing I’m still going to be hungry later.”
“…Right,” he affirmed.
She eyed the remainder of the pizza sadly. It was delicious, but it wasn’t what she needed. “Gurney… Could you tell me…”
“How do changelings eat?” Gurney parroted as he sat down, dropping a thin folder onto the table between them. He flipped it open, revealing the familiar papers about her previous self; loads of small text surrounding those… sketches. Gurney flipped forward through to a small number of pages filled with an unintelligible scrawl. “Right, where do you want to start?”
Retcon frowned. “Umm… Breakfast?”
“No I mean, what about it do you want to know?”
“Ah, yeah…” She pursed her lips as she considered what might be more pressing. “…So, just ponies, right?”
Gurney tilted his head slightly. “Just ponies? You mean, can changelings get nutrition from elsewhere?”
“Yeah. Like, anything, y’know, not thinking.”
Gurney nodded once, slowly. “Sorry, the answer’s no. Old-you was pretty certain on that.”
“Mmh.” Thought as much. Worth asking. “So what does eating normal food do?”
Gurney turned back a page, hovering a claw over the writing. “…Yes, a changeling can consume most food that an omnivore typically can, but cannot metabolise it. Your digestive system isn’t all that different from mine, it just doesn’t… digest, for whatever reason.” He glanced up from the file. “You weren’t able to give much detail for why that’s the case, and we wouldn’t be able to figure it out without, y’know,” Gurney motioned from his neck down his chest with a talon while making a gross noise at the back of his throat, followed by pantomiming an opening-outward motion, “which, obviously, we’re not gonna do. My best guess is it’s a vestige of your evolution. Your ancestors probably used to be able to metabolise regular nutrition, but as you became more specialised into emotiphagy, you lost that capability. Now it’s a way to not get caught if an Infiltrator gets invited to a picnic.” He scratched his beak. “Just a guess. What it means is you can eat whatever you want, it just won’t do you much good energy-wise.”
“Right. So, I don’t need to ever eat normal food again?”
The griffin shrugged. “Pretty much, if you wanted.”
Retcon scrunched her nose. “Nah, food is yum.”
Gurney snorted. “Yeah you right.”
“And, when you say anything an omnivore can eat…?”
He grinned. “Yep, you can eat meat. Finally, I’m not alone out here!”
She sniffed. The thought was an uncomfortable one. Maybe she wouldn’t think the same way if she weren’t in the form of a pony, but it was hard to not think like one, given she had been one for as long as she could remember.
Alright, no more putting it off. Steeling herself, she drew a steadying breath. “So… how exactly does a changeling eat?” She felt gross asking that, but it needed answering.
The mirth left Gurney’s expression as he flipped to another page of notes. “It’s mostly passive. So, you can feel other ponies’ emotions, right?”
She nodded. “Not all the time. If it’s strong enough. It never really stuck out as unusual until… well, I get nothing from you. I guess this is what it’s like for everyone else.”
“Heh, pretty much. Yeah, that ‘sense’, or whatever it is, is the key to it. If you can feel the emotions, you can draw energy from it. It appears to be instinctive, like feeding chicks. But…” The griffon clasped his claws on the table, fixing her with a serious look. “Couple of things; first, it must be a positive emotion, the stronger the better, with love being the most potent. Y- Old you mentioned that strong negative emotions might instead sap energy away, but we didn’t run any tests on that.” Gurney flipped the folder closed. “But most importantly, the emotion has to be directed atyou. You can’t just pluck ambient emotion out of the air.”
“Directed?” Retcon frowned. “How does that work?”
“It’s like…” Gurney tapped the side of his beak. “So if you were in the same room as a married couple, say; you might be able to sense their feelings for one another, I think, but you wouldn’t be able to get anything from that. You have to be the object of the emotion. I don’t fully understand the mechanism, but it appears to be how you form the energy link. That’s why the Hive’s Infiltrators tend toward taking an existing pony’s place, rather than just hanging out in the middle of town. You’re not a basking shark.”
“Wait wait, taking a pony’s place?” Retcon shook her head, leaning onto the table. “You said Infiltrator before, what’s that?”
Gurney paused for a moment. “…Infiltrators are kind of the food gatherers of the Hive. They take the form of a pony and live amongst them, occasionally for an extended period of time. Sometimes the form they take is novel, and sometimes they take the form of somepony who already exists for a short time.”
Retcon frowned down at the table. There’s always something else. It was all getting too much to take in over such a short space of time, and it was becoming hard feel any way about it at all. She just felt heavy. What next… “Did they kill the pony they replaced?”
Gurney pulled an odd expression. “Not that I heard. The idea is to leave as little an impact on the ponies as is possible. It’s how the changelings remained undetected for so long.”
And then the Wedding… “Was I an Infiltrator?”
“Yes, you were,” Gurney said gently. “It sounded like one of the most important and respected roles in the Hive’s structure. Then, after the Canterlot Invasion, it became impossible for Infiltrators to continue their work, since the ponies knew about the changelings. Too much suspicion.” His tone sounded sad. “Infiltrators were the primary source of energy for the entire Hive. There was no fallback plan if the Invasion failed. In desperation, the Infiltrators were instructed not to come back if they hadn’t gathered enough to share around. That’s when you came to us.”
Retcon blinked. “…Wow…” That’s… Wow. She hadn’t been sure what to feel about where she came from. She knew there would be other changelings, but given she was still trying to figure herself out, she had been leaving thinking about other changelings for later.
I guess that’s why I gave up my identity. Heck of a lot to run away from. “Um, what’s the Hive like now?”
Gurney shrugged his wings. “Last we know about it was what you said, and the last you had contact with it may have been two or three months ago. Maybe more. No idea. Though… you said you didn’t think the Hive was likely to survive, but that might have been hyperbole,” he added hurriedly. “We really have no way of knowing.” He pulled another expression, sort of like a half-smile but without being happy. “You’re the only changeling ever to willingly discuss any of this with us, with the ponies.”
No, too much… That’s too much… “A-are there other Hives?” she asked quickly.
“…Yes, I think so. But, you weren’t able to say much about them. It doesn’t sound like individual Hives are all that friendly.”
Retcon shook her head dismissively. Getting off topic. “Okay, so; me, pony… If I eat emotion, what actually happens, exactly?”
The griffin studied her for a moment. “…For you, or for the pony?”
“Uh, the pony. What happens to them?”
Furrowing his brow, Gurney flipped open the folder again, turning to a page right near the back. “Well, the emotion factor is the method for establishing an energy link, but it’s not actually the emotion itself that is consumed. The pony doesn’t lose love, for instance. Where’s…” He hunted down the page. “Yes, so the directed emotion bridges a link that allows for the transfer of energy from the… pony. The same energy any living being gets from food. After a while, the pony in this equation would experience tiredness, like they’d had a long day or done a lot of excercise. After tiredness would be a feeling of weakness, nausea, and exhaustion, in that order.”
“I see…”
He glanced up again. “Though that would be from extensive feeding. Normally it’s just a slight tiredness. Obviously, we haven’t run any tests that went that far.”
Retcon waited, expecting Gurney to continue. “…Is that it? It doesn’t hurt?” So I could get energy without anyone knowing... That’s still stealing, but…
“Well… no, that’s pretty much it. It’s just energy, nothing that can’t be replaced. That’s why Lemony was having scheduled days off.”
Lemony. The name felt like cold water. “…She volunteered, or something?”
“Yeah, she was one of three who initially volunteered to, I guess, donate energy. You weren’t able to get anything from the others though, so Lemony has been shouldering the role by herself.”
“…W-why-?” Retcon cleared her throat. “Why just Lemony?”
Gurney rubbed the back of his neck. “Well… like I say, the emotions need to be directed, and… let’s just say that the Invasion has given changelings a bit of a reputation. Lemony genuinely likes you, and that lets you,” he waved a claw, “you know. Eat.”
Sheesh, make me feel worse… Her stomach tightened. I wish I could make it up to her, but there’s no way she’ll want to speak to me again. She sniffed. …Probably best.
Gurney pressed on, “When it was decided you would be retconned, all non-essential staff were sent home, so most of them have never met you. That way they could get to know new-you without bias.”
“And they all agreed to that?”
“Eh, mostly. A few said no, they’re going to be staying away until you leave, or unless something comes up. Um, sorry, but y’know, most of the Institute were there during the Invasion.”
“Yeah, I heard.” Stupid Invasion. Retcon rubbed her forehead with a hoof. “Ugh, this sucks.”
Gurney grunted non-commitally.
“So that’s it then, that’s how I live?” Retcon felt too weary to be angry. “I get somepony to like me, then I can drain them?” She dropped her head to rest her chin on the table, not caring how she looked. “I’m really not comfortable with this,” she mumbled.
The griffon regarded her with a serious look. “No one is. But this is how we get energy in you and we really don’t have many options.”
Retcon could help but look away. “Sorry...”
“Don’t be.” She glanced back to Gurney, surprised by his sharp tone. “Really, don’t.”
She felt her ears fold back against her head. “I don’t wanna hurt anypony, Gurney.”
“Good, glad to hear it. But this is how you get food, it’s a fact of life and you can’t change it. All you can do is the best with what you’ve got. Never apologise for what you are.”
The sudden shift in the griffon’s demeanour was unexpected. That’s not Gurney. “Who told that to you?” she asked gently.
Gurney blinked owlishly at her, the intensity draining from his expression in an instant. After a moment, he snorted, a ghost of his cocksure grin returning. “My sister, actually. Carnivores and herbivores don’t mix well, and…” He sighed, glancing down as he fiddled with his talons on the table. “Well, you know ponies, they’re a real kind-hearted bunch, on the whole. But instinct is hard to outgrow. There are some who… who are less thrilled about meeting meat-eaters.” He locked eyes with Retcon, though his expression was gentle. “You were kinda scared of me first time we met.”
She felt her face heat up, realising where he was going. “Yeah, I guess.”
Gurney nodded. “And…?” he prompted.
“And you’re not all that bad and won’t gut me like a fish. I get it,” Retcon huffed.
The griffon’s expression turned smug. “And what did we learn?”
Scowling, Retcon crossed her forelimbs and turned away.
“What we learned,” continued Gurney in a softer tone, “is that it doesn’t matter what you are. Once upon a time ponies ran from griffons, and griffons would kill ponies for food, or just for sport. That was centuries ago, but it was a deserved reputation.” He smiled kindly. “Ponies only know changelings from the Wedding, and yeah it’s a bad start, but you’ve got a chance. Plus, you can blend in, you can get them to know you.”
Retcon stared blankly ahead. It was a lot to digest, and she wasn’t sure she agreed with all of it. “I… don’t really have words… for you.”
“That’s fine,” Gurney shrugged his wings, “you don’t need to. Oh, speaking of, do you… know if you’ll be sticking around? I mean if you want to leave I’d understand but…” he trailed off.
“Uh, I’m not sure. Maybe for a bit?” Probably. Don’t really see where I could go just yet. Maybe I could go along with the original plan.
Gurney nodded, rifling through the folder to another page full of text. “If you’ve got the time, I could run through some transformation magic. Otherwise, you might want all this copied out in someone else’s writing.”
Retcon grimaced. “Uh, no, I think I’m good thanks.” She lifted an olive wing in demonstration. “I like this.”
Gurney paused. “…You don’t want to know how to transform?”
“Not really.” A bit. Could be useful. What if- Then the image of the blank-eyed creature in the drawings came to mind. “No, this is who I am now.”
The griffon’s expression changed. “…Alright then,” he said uncertainly. “You probably should anyway, but… Well, you know where to find me.”
She nodded. “Yeah.” Maybe.
Gurney shook his head. “Anyway!” He closed the folder shut. “One last question?” Retcon nodded. Gurney smirked. “What’s your favourite colour?”
“Favourite… You asked me that before,” she realised.
“Yep. Had a chance to think about it?”
“Uhh… Maybe green, I guess?”
“Huh, very interesting… Because of…?” He gestured in her direction.
She glanced up, cross-eyed, at her hairline, following her messy forest-green mane. “I just like green.”
Gurney nodded. “Apt. It’s also a signature colour of the changelings.”
Retcon scowled at that. Great.
“But what’s interesting is that it used to be pink,” Gurney continued. “That’s the answer you gave before the memory wipe.” He cocked his head to one side. “I wonder what that says about who you are now.”
Retcon wrinkled her nose. What was that? A spike of-
She turned in her seat to look over her shoulder. Standing in the corridor, one foreleg raised to her barrel, was Misty Fly. Her expression as she resumed walking was genial and carefree, but the small jolt of alarm, fleeting and already fading, had given her away.
“Retcon, hey!” she greeted, stopping beside the large table. “How’s it going, you good?”
“I’m good, hi.” She gestured to the butter-yellow pegasus with a forehoof. “You’re unwrapped.”
Misty Fly glanced down at herself. “Oh, no flight suit. Yeah, didn’t need it today.” She nodded at the huge round table. “Cool if I join you?”
Huh. “Sure.”
Misty Fly grinned. “Just a...” She trotted over the glass wardrobe and pressed a few buttons, resulting in a clang from the machine. Over her shoulder she called, “You want one?”
“Oh, thanks. Please.”
With another clang, Misty Fly returned to the table with two identical cans. Taking a cushion next to Retcon, she slid one can over to her. It was the same type as the first one she had tried, going by the colouration of the label.
Misty Fly cracked the lid of hers with a hiss. “So what’s new? Didn’t see you again yesterday. Thought I might’ve missed you.”
“Sorry, were you looking for me?”
The pegasus paused mid-sip. “Well not looking, no. Just wondered if I might run into you again.”
Retcon shrugged. “I was in my room. I had my books.” No strong emotions anymore. I can’t tell what she’s feeling. At least she’s not afraid this time. “Well, no one’s said it’s not my room anymore.” And no one came to lock it, she added to herself. Her room had actually felt like a sanctuary that past night.
“Oh yeah? Reading anything good?”
“Yes.” …Oh, she’ll want detail. “I can’t remember the name, it was long and weird, but it had a picture of a sunset on the front. No pictures inside though.”
“What’s it about?”
“It’s…” Is this weird? Whatever. “Well it’s about pony who likes another pony. Like, likes them a lot. And they have dinners together. It’s sweet.”
A grin slowly spread across Misty Fly’s face. “Oh yeah?”
Retcon’s ears folded back. “What?”
“Eh, nothing.”
She found that really funny.
The pegasus’ jovial mood soon dipped. “Look, real quick; I wanted to say sorry, for how I acted yesterday.” She rubbed the back of her neck. “It was kinda rude of me and I think I made a bad first impression.”
Retcon frowned lightly. “…Um, no you’re okay. I didn’t think you were rude.”
Misty Fly appeared to deflate slightly, her emotions losing a little of the tension. “Ah, cool. Thanks.” Smiling earnestly, she extended a forehoof towards Retcon. “Friends?”
“I haven’t really got the whole ‘friend’ thing down yet, but sure.” She met the hoof briefly with her own. “Hello,” she said, smiling back.
Misty Fly giggled. “I’m friends with a changeling!”
Retcon snorted. The pegasus’ good humour was infectious. Glad I could help, I guess.
“Oh, since you’re new…” Setting her can down on the table, Misty Fly glanced over her shoulder, then leaned forward conspiratorially. “What do you think of Sky?”
Sky? “Well, um, she’s pretty grumpy. And bossy.”
“Heh, yeah.” The pegasus scratched the top of her muzzle. “Thing is I’ve worked here for about three years now, and Sky… She’s been here longer than anyone. Vel’s second, but even she doesn’t know much about Sky.” Sighing, she leaned back from the table. “I mean she’s great at what she does. Don’t get me wrong, she knows how to run this place, it’s just that we don’t actually know much about her, and I thought that since you…” Trailing off, she gestured vaguely up and down in Retcon’s direction. “You can read what ponies are feeling, right?”
“Uhh, kinda?”
“Oh, sorry, I shouldn’t- So how does it work?” Misty Fly gasped. “Oh, can you tell what I’m feeling right now?”
Retcon felt squirmy inside. “Mmh… Not really. Like… I-I can tell that you’re there and that you’re feeling a bunch of things…” She tried to focus. “…A couple of things… Most I can get is some discomfort…” …Which just got a little bit bigger just then. Blinking, she focused back on Misty Fly. “…But yeah, nothing strong enough to get a good reading.”
“Huh, that’s really neat.”
She’s… grossed out, I think? Just a bit. …But she actually seems genuinely interested. Hmm.
Retcon took another sip, then shrugged. “I never get much from Sky. Again, I can tell she’s there, not like with Gurney.” At Misty Fly’s expression, she quickly added, “Changelings don’t get anything from griffons, or anything other than ponies apparently. It’s like…” She furrowed her eyebrows. “…It’s like if you never heard somepony’s hoofsteps when they walked. They’re still there, but, not fully. Sky’s not like that, I just can’t get a good read on her. Dunno why.”
Misty Fly nodded along as she listened. “Is that how you get love energy?”
“…You’re surprisingly okay with all this,” Retcon noted.
“Mmm, not really,” Misty Fly admitted, her emotions muddled, if not strong, “but you seem nice, and this all sounds pretty cool. It’s better I ask, right?”
Retcon felt the ghost of a smile. “Well, kinda works like that. I’m still sort of new to all this…”
“Right, you thought… right.”
She nodded, “Yeah, the mind wipe and all that. So… Yeah, it’s kind of related to that, but I can sense some of the feelings of anypony around me. Most of the time it’s so… background that I didn’t even realise no one else could, didn’t notice anything weird until I met Gurney, he’s like a nothing.” She chuckled shortly. “…Okay, if a pony feels a strong enough emotion about me, directed at me, then I can… get energy from it.” She stumbled over some of her words, suddenly very conscious about what she was saying, and to whom she was saying it. “If it’s a positive emotion, it’s food, if it’s a negative emotion, apparently that’s bad.” She realised she was staring at the table as she spoke. “You’re, ah… You’re not making anything strong enough for me to, uh, get, if that helps.”
The pegasus’ emotions seemed to gradually flatten, some of the darker notes weakening. Outwardly however, she frowned, seeming troubled. “Hmm.”
Retcon glanced up. “What?”
“Well, that’s no good. How am I supposed to help then?”
“…Hah?”
Misty Fly propped up the side of her face with a hoof, elbow on the table, looking at her with an expression of scrutiny. “Well I don’t fancy you or anything. No offense, you’re a looker, but you’re not my type. Does it have to be directed at you?”
…What does fancy mean, in this context? Wish I had my dictionary. “That’s what the file says. Gurney too. If the strong emotion is about something else, I get nothing.”
“Mmh.” Misty Fly smiled. “Well, friendships aren’t instantaneous. We’ll work on this, yeah?”
“Uh, yeah.” She’s… she actually willing to help, even though she knows? I wouldn’t want some parasite feeding off me, but she’s offering? … Lemony was too. The enormity of what was being offered didn’t escape her. “Wow, that’s… that’s really nice of you. I, uh, don’t know what-”
“Yeah yeah yeah, let’s not make it awkward,” interrupted Misty Fly quickly, her face flushing. “It’s one thing to agree to be dinner for a changeling, it’s another to actually do it, you know?”
“Yeah.” Retcon rested her chin on her forelegs, crossed on the table. “Truth is I wish it didn’t have to work like this,” she said neutrally. “I don’t really want to steal energy from other ponies. The word 'parasite' isn’t a friendly one.”
Misty Fly chuckled lightly. “Well, at least I’m not the only one thinking it.”
A mild sensation of warmth began to trickle around her skull, a small feeling of contentment in her chest. A familiar feeling, one she hadn’t felt in a while.
Concerned, though afraid of moving too suddenly, she glanced sideways at Misty Fly. The pegasus took a swig of her drink, appearing carefree.
...Is she-
A sudden muffled whoosh of wind shocked her out of her thoughts. Lifting her head from the table, she turned to face the Warp Room door. Misty Fly had also taken notice. The sensation had stopped.
The door opened inward. Lemony Meringue took only two steps out of the room before she froze, eyes locked on to Retcon’s.
Retcon flinched at the sudden gust of dread that slammed her senses, her ears flat against her head. For a terrible moment, the sensation dominated everything she felt. She couldn’t move. Then Lemony blinked, and it quickly faded.
The pink unicorn had a thin rough-looking cloth wrapped around the bottom of her neck. Her yellow and orange mane looked a little straighter than usual.
“Oh… hi,” said Lemony, absently.
Retcon did her best to maintain eye contact. “…Hi,” she responded without thinking.
“Yo,” greeted Misty Fly, waving a foreleg in the air. Her ears pricked up, and she winced. “Ooh, what’s with the bandage?”
Lemony glanced over at the pegasus, looking surprised. The cocktail of emotions she was generating set Retcon’s teeth on edge. Lemony half raised a forelimb to herself, but quickly lowered it. “Um… There was a sort of accident.” Her eyes darted back to Retcon. “…I-…” A heartbeat. She looked down at the floor. “Excuse me.”
Without making eye contact, the unicorn walked past the table and started down a hallway. Misty Fly turned to watch as she left. Retcon hadn’t moved, still staring in the direction of the Warp Room.
When she finally heard the distant click of a door, when all she could sense was the confusion from next to her, Retcon let out a breath.
Should’ve said something. Should’ve said sorry. Why didn’t you say anything? She shuddered. Need to put it right. How can I put it right? What can I do? Can’t even open my mouth and talk…
“Oh-kay, what was that?” Misty Fly interrupted her thoughts.
Quick turnaround on losing a friend. Nice one, Retcon, that’s a record. She closed her eyes tightly as she tried to squash her inner voice.
“…Something happened,” she mumbled downwards. “I knew something was up right from the start, when they said I had amnesia, but… literally everything I knew about the world, I was told. I had no choice but to trust completely that they were being truthful. A-And then I find out it was all a lie, and it made…” She sighed. “I’m making excuses. I hurt Lemony.”
The pegasus’ emotions began to hum a little darker, though were still restrained. “…Her…?” She lifted a forehoof to her throat. Retcon nodded. Frowning, Misty Fly asked, “…What did you find?”
“They had given me a copy of my file. Turns out it was altered. I found the real one, the part that said they had wiped my memory.” She gulped, her throat feeling constricted. “I… didn’t really feel I could… trust anything after that.”
Misty Fly sucked a sharp breath through her teeth. “Yeesh, that’d do it.”
Retcon blinked. The small unpleasant hum of emotion was already receding, drowned out by the low background muddle that she couldn’t discern. “Okay, not the reaction I was expecting,” she muttered.
“I wasn’t here,” said Misty Fly, her tone carefully neutral. “I wanna talk to Lemony first.”
That makes sense, I guess…
“Besides,” she continued in a softer tone, “it sounds like you’re sorry, at least.”
Retcon opened her mouth to reply, but couldn’t come up with the words, instead just nodding in response.
“Mmh, wait, was Lemony your only source of food?”
Retcon felt her eye twitch. “Don’t call her that.”
“…Huh?”
“Said don’t call her that. Lemony… was my friend. Don’t…” She felt like she was shrinking inside. “Just… don’t talk like that.”
The surprised look on Misty Fly’s face shifted into a ghost of a smile. “You got it, my b.”
Folding her forelimbs on the table, Retcon rested her chin on top. “Sorry.”
“It’s cool.” Misty Fly took a drink from her can. “So what’s next then?”
Retcon shrugged as best she could. “Think I’ve learned everything I can here. Might ask Sky where I can get set up and live.”
Misty Fly shook her head. “No, I mean to make it up to Lemony.”
Make it up to her? Can I do that? “…I was pretty much going to stay away from her. Don’t want to make things worse.”
“And you think that’ll help?” the pegasus snorted.
Retcon lifted her head up to look at her. Is this a pony ‘social’ thing to do? “What do you have in mind?”
Misty Fly rolled her eyes. “Go out of your way to actually properly say sorry, dingus. Lem’s not the kind to hold a grudge, not normally, but don’t just sweep it all under the rug and pretend it didn’t happen.”
Retcon stopped her nervous pacing in front of the table when she heard movement on the other side of the door. Turning to face it, she focused. A pony, just the one, though she couldn’t tell anything else.
The handle turned, and the door opened inwards.
“Hey, you wanted to-” Lemony froze as she spotted Retcon. There was surprise, as well as a sudden wave of fear.
“Uh, hi,” greeted Retcon awkwardly.
“…Retcon,” the unicorn said in a small voice. She glanced around, eyes not leaving the mare in front of her for long. “Is, um, is Shower here?”
She rubbed the back of her neck. “Ah, just me actually.”
Lemony regarded her wearily, a look of realisation slowly forming. “Oh.”
“Umm,” began Retcon, looking away, “…I’m sorry I hurt you. I just wanted to… say that.” She glanced up, looking Lemony in the eyes. “I’m really sorry.”
Lemony averted her gaze. She was quiet, emotions churning, for an uncomfortable length of time, before, “…Thanks…” She sniffed. “Um, Shower kinda said you wanted to say that.”
Retcon nodded absently. “Uhh, are you… How are you?”
“Oh, um, I’m well, thanks.” She lifted a pink forelimb to her throat, where the thin bandage was wrapped around the base of her neck. “It wasn’t that deep, just grazed the bone,” she mumbled. “Mostly just nicked me.”
“That’s good.” Her eyes went wide. “I-I mean no, it’s not- it’s good that- Urgh…”
The uncomfortable things she was receiving from Lemony diminished somewhat, though outwardly the unicorn did nothing but lower her hoof back to the ground.
“Mm. Well… Nice to see you again, Retcon. I’d best…” she gestured back to the door. “…you know.”
“W-Wait!” Retcon’s wings spread wide. “Before you go,” she stepped aside and motioned to the table behind her. “…Ta da,” she announced weakly.
“Umm, what’s all this?” asked Lemony, frowning at the upside-down metal bowl on the table. Next to it was a can from the machine, the same kind of drink lemony had suggested Retcon try. A second can was already open.
Retcon opened, then closed her mouth, instead just pointing to the metal bowl cover. She took a step back as Lemony hesitantly approached it, the unicorn shooting her a questioning side glance. Lemony lifted the cover with a hoof, revealing a bowl of pasta in a cream-cheese sauce, with thin strips of hay bacon. Thankfully it still looked warm.
Still holding the cover, Lemony turned to face Retcon. “What is this?” she asked again, more forcefully.
“Um, it’s spaghetti carbonara…”
Without breaking eye contact, Lemony placed the cover on the table beside the dish. She looked unimpressed.
“I, uh, I made you some food,” Retcon mumbled. “Well I mean… Misty Fly told me what to do, and Shower said you liked this, and you mentiond it before, so…”
“Why?” The tone made it sound like it wasn’t a question.
Retcon felt like she wanted to drop through the floor. She took a big breath. “…Because you’ve been feeding me all this time,” she said on the exhale, her words like lead. “I wanted to make some food for you. It’s only fair, right?” She scratched the top of her muzzle awkwardly. “I-I know it doesn’t make us even or… So yeah.” Umm, should I go?
Lemony blinked, then turned to the dish. Then, to Retcon’s surprise, she snorted in amusement.
Retcon shrunk back wearily. Her emotions didn’t change much, she noted.
Lemony looked up at the other mare, her expression softening. “This is nice, thank you.”
“Oh, uh, sure.”
Smirking, she pointed at the soda can. “Not exactly white wine, but I’ll let that slide.”
“Uhh…” The cans are good though. What’s wine?
She snorted again, “What, are you fattening me up or something?”
Retcon inadvertently flapped her wings as she reeled back. “What!? No no no no!”
“Relax, I’m kidding.” Lemony gestured placatingly with a hoof. Turning back to the table, she frowned as she glanced around, lifting the cover briefly. “Have you already eaten?”
Retcon blinked. “Uhh, no. No, I… don’t really need to, turns out.” She pointedly ignored the discomfort in her stomach.
“Oh… yeah…” The air seemed to sour. Nevertheless, Lemony made to sit down, offering her a weak smile. “Well, this saves me having to figure out dinner later, thanks.”
Retcon nodded. “Alright…” She glanced toward the door. “Uhh…”
“Um, you can stay if you want,” offered Lemony, though she sounded unsure.
Well… Alright… Hesitantly, Retcon took the cushion opposite, on the other side of the table. She felt like she should be doing something but she couldn’t think what, so she just tried to sit still and not fidget.
Was she just asking to be polite, should I have gone anyway? Bit late now though…
Taking the fork with a hoof, Lemony tried the pasta. “Mmh. Wow,” she said through a mouthful. “’aht’s no’ bad…” Leaning forward, she sniffed the bowl in thought. “This isn’t parmesan, what cheese did you use?”
“Umm… granny something?”
“Grana padano?”
“Yeah, that’s it.” I think that’s what Misty Fly called it.
Lemony waved her fork. “…’is your firs’ time cookin’?” Retcon nodded. “Y’done a good job.”
While it hadn’t calmed completely, the chaotic muddle of emotion Retcon had felt to begin with had dwindled somewhat. Thinking on it, she glanced off to the side, not sure what to say while Lemony ate.
“So…” the unicorn piped up, voice a little more serious, if uncertain, “how are you?”
Retcon chewed the inside of her cheek. “I’m okay.”
“I mean, now that… you know.”
Oh, right. “Uh, I’m still figuring stuff out, I guess.”
Lemony nodded sadly, pausing to push some food around her bowl. “…I’m sorry I lied to you.”
Retcon frowned. “Huh? No no, don’t. I get it,” she offered.
“I mean it! All this time I was just… lying to you and I hated it.” Lemony poked at her bowl. “…I actually nearly told you.”
…What…
“In the courtyard, after you went flying,” continued Lemony, looking despondently at the table. “I didn’t know how I could get you to trust me. You were suspicious of it all, and… you were right.” She sighed, “But then, you said that thing about… ‘she who must keep secrets,’ et cetera.” She glanced up and smiled weakly. “You actually said that once, before the- Well, before. And it reminded me of… what you are, and why I couldn’t tell you, and so I… didn’t.” Swirling the pasta with her fork, she continued eating.
I don’t really remember that. “I should have trusted you,” Retcon mumbled.
“Why?” Lemony asked between mouthfuls. “You had no reason to. All I could think to do was distract you. Lie upon lie upon lie, until…” She let out a short laugh, but Retcon could sense no humour. “In fact, the only reason your file was on my desk was because I’d said I would get you a copy, and I only said that because… you were right to question us, and I just didn’t have any good answers.” After a moment, she sighed to herself. “I kinda messed it all up. I’m… not all that great at dealing with other ponies, it’s why I went into history, and then archaeology, in the first place. You don’t have to worry about what questions a rock might ask you. Shower, Rose, Mist, they’d have known what to say.”
Lemony appeared nonchalant on the surface as she ate, but her feelings gave her away. The low, discordant melody of Lemony’s emotions that kept Retcon from opening her mouth. She sat quietly, letting the unicorn talk.
Lemony snorted abruptly, breaking the silence. “I don’t even know what to say now.”
“…If it helps, neither do I.”
Glancing over, a smile pulled at Lemony’s lips. “What a pair we make, I guess.” She returned her attention to her food. “Any other situation and it would’ve been someone else, Gurney probably. Someone better qualified. But…” she gestured with her fork, “you were only able to get food from me, so that’s what we went with. You needed a friend, and you didn’t like anypony else.”
Retcon visibly bristled, causing Lemony to look up. “What, does it freak you out too?” the unicorn asked.
“Kinda.” Retcon shuffled her wings. “I can’t believe I was… doing that to you. I’m really sorry.”
Lemony shrugged, but she seemed to be giving off more anxiety than before. “It’s fine. I volunteered for it.”
“Why? I mean, how were you okay with it?”
She paused mid-chew as she thought. “…Better than letting you starve, right? It’s… yeah, it’s pretty freaky, but… you were friendly enough. …Of course you would be.” Her tone lowering, Lemony returned her attention to her food. “…Af’er a while i’ go’ easy ‘oo fink ‘ou were a ‘ony.”
…What does she mean by that? I probably shouldn’t mention how she feels, but I have to… “…Um, you’re pretty anxious right now…”
Lemony froze up, then after a second seemed to deflate. “Mmh.” She placed the fork down in the bowl, her meal mostly finished, and crossed her forelimbs on the table. “Sorry, yeah. This was, uhh… a lot easier, when… when you didn’t know.”
“…Um, what was?” Retcon hesitantly prompted.
Looking like she was holding herself with her forelegs crossed over her chest, Lemony glanced up at her. The anxiety she was exuding was growing, and it was starting to give Retcon a headache. Lemony bit her lip, taking a few false starts before she eventually spoke, “…Umm, I’m… afraid of changelings…” Her emotions spiked unpleasantly briefly as she shrank down in her seat. “…Like, a lot…”
Retcon suddenly felt very cold.
The unicorn wouldn’t look at her. “…I was in Canterlot during… Well, when they attacked, one chased me down and, I got… hurt pretty bad.” She smiled wanly, still averting her eyes, as she touched her neck. “This is nothing. I-” She paused, glancing up. “Umm, I forgive you, by the way.”
Retcon felt choked up, averting her eyes instead.
“So yeah…” Lemony mumbled, sniffling. “I’m terrified of changelings. Now you know… Or I guess, you can probably tell, can’t you…”
Yep…
Retcon look back at the other mare, who was poking at the bowl in front of her. “How come… you never were before?”
Lemony shrugged. “It was easy to forget. Especially when you didn’t know. I was lying to myself too. Playing make-believe that I was helping some pegasus who had hurt their head.”
Are you scared of me? No, don’t ask that, it’s obvious… “Umm… I’m sorry, Lemony.”
“Don’t be.” There was that ghost of a smile again, the one masking her feelings she was broadcasting. “Just, don’t do it again, yeah?”
Retcon nodded fervently. “Yeah. But also, uh…” She felt her skin crawl. “I’m sorry I-… I can go if you prefer.”
Lemony stared dejectedly at the table. “…Is I weird I kinda don’t want you to?”
“Uhm… Maybe?”
The unicorn sighed, scrunching her eyes closed. “Look, just… Give me some time. I…” Her emotions faded a little. “I enjoyed hanging out with you. Just… I need a little time. Is that okay?”
I’m really hungry… Retcon tried not to grimace at that thought. Yikes, where did that come from? Why was that my first thought? I don’t think of Lemony like food, she’s my friend. …Is she still? Maybe, don’t lose her.
She mustered up a slight smile, and-
A cold dagger of dread pierced her mind. For brief moment, she couldn’t think.
Ears flat, she ducked her head, shoulders hunched as if to make herself smaller, and looked around. What was that!?
“Uhh, you okay?”
“Was that you?” she asked, glancing over fretfully.
Lemony looked puzzled. “Was… what me?”
The horrible sensation was no longer quite so sharp. She couldn’t tell direction, but the source seemed to be more distant than the muddled confusion and worry in the room.
She turned to face the door. “Someone’s coming.”
“Huh?” Lemony glanced between her and the door. “How do you know?”
“They’re… not happy.” Closer now.
The unicorn stood. “…What is it?”
“I don’t…”
The door swung open, and into the room stepped Sky.
Trailing behind a fretful Lemony and a surprisingly-worried Sky, not that it showed in the white unicorn’s expression, Retcon stepped out into the large open room. Sensing the apparent seriousness of the situation, she had kept her head low and her mouth shut since they had left.
The room was abuzz with strong emotions drowning out any nuance she might’ve read, but it seemed along the lines of what she was getting from the two mares she had been following. The sensation was cacophonous, and it made her skin crawl and head hurt.
Already seated at the huge round table was Shower, glaring intently into the distance. Beside her was a fuchsia-coloured unicorn with a two-tone purple mane, as well as Misty Fly, who glanced up as the three of them walked in. Gurney has been pacing near the table, but had stopped as they approached, his binocular gaze fixed on Retcon with what might have been no small degree of apprehension.
The fuchsia unicorn raised her head, frowning at Retcon. “Who’re you?”
Retcon blinked. Whatever was going on must have been serious to stir up such strong emotions amongst the ponies, so she kept her response short, bypassing pleasantries. “I’m a changeling.”
The newcomer ogled her for a few seconds, before turning to Sky. “Oh right. Should it be here for this?”
Sky took a cushion. “Lemony, your call,” she stated curtly.
Lemony glanced over at Retcon with a surprised expression, but Gurney beat her to the response. “If it’s the same to you, I think she should stay.”
Lemony nodded in assent, appearing distracted. Feeling very self-conscious, Retcon gingerly took a seat next to Gurney, with Sky, Misty Fly and several empty seats between her and Lemony.
What’s this got to do with me?
“Alright,” announced Sky when everyone was seated, “we have a major problem. A lavastone has been brought into downtown Canterlot and activated.”
Retcon reflexively grimaced, her ears flattening, as she felt a cold spike of dread. On a hunch, she glanced over at Lemony, who was staring wide-eyed at Sky. Misty Fly seemed to notice Retcon’s reaction, but said nothing.
Sky nodded at the fuchsia unicorn. “Sparkler, all yours.”
Sparkler cleared her throat. “It’s in a residential building, Pineview Avenue. Somehow the idiot managed to get it all the way home before it got set off. The house has been locked down by the Canterlot Guard and neighbouring building evacuated, whole street is cordoned. It was damn lucky I was in the area before the Guards started bumbling in.”
“How did they get a lavastone all the way into the middle of Canterlot?” Lemony asked in a quiet voice.
“No idea. The one who brought it isn’t in a state to talk.”
“What did you tell the Guard?” asked Shower, a flinty look in her eyes, though undirected.
“That the buildings next door needed to be cleared, and that under no circumstances was anybody to go within fifty feet of the building. They took me seriously after I said I was with the R.I.I.”
Shower nodded. “Did they ask why?”
“No, I think they got the picture. Smelled it too. I came here after they set up the cordon.”
“How many casualties?”
“Only one known so far. Rusty Nails, earth pony, male, owner of the building. Apparently lived alone, thank Celestia.”
“We don’t have time,” Shower snapped. “It’ll take too long and lead to follow-up questions. We should be talking about how we’re going to contain it.”
“She needs to know,” rebutted Gurney.
“I’m with Shower,” said Misty Fly. “Sorry Retcon, but there’s a time and a place, and this is important.”
“Just humour me,” he insisted.
Shower scowled, turning away from Gurney. “Tch. Be quick.”
Gurney nodded curtly, and turned to face Retcon. “A lavastone is an artefact with a curse bound by runes carved into it. When activated, it will set ablaze the fur or hair of any living thing within range.”
Retcon blanched. “Like… on fire?”
“Exactly. If it has hair follicles, it goes up in flames.”
“Wha- Why?” she floundered.
“See, follow-up questions,” muttered Shower.
Gurney ignored her. “Why they exist can wait. Lavastones are, thankfully, extremely rare. Lemony-?” he prompted.
Lemony jumped in her seat, having been staring off into the distance. “Oh, um, yeah. Runesculpting is an ancient craft of magic. It was first developed by the griffons, and was outlawed in Equestria around… twelve-hundred years ago. Never saw wide-spread use, but misuse could be… pretty bad. You’re forcing magic energy through a spellform, and that energy is going to flow even if your spell is malformed.” She grimaced. “We’ve found them before, sometimes around certain ruins, usually inactive. Never in a city…”
“This is the first time,” muttered Sky, seemingly to herself.
“Alright, so what do we do?” asked Shower. “It’s in a built-up area, and it’s live. Usual containment won’t work. Sparks, how long had-“
While the conversation continued, Gurney leaned closer to Retcon and spoke softly, “Dormant lavastones are activated by contact with a pony, specifically. After that, its range is around 20, 30 feet to begin with. Ponies, griffons, anything with hair or fur, if it gets too close, it’s toast. Unicorns have it worst; a lavastone will summon fire at the unicorn’s location if their magic aura enters the radius, even if they themselves are far enough away. That makes them particularly rough to deal with.” He paused, glancing up to listen to what Sparkler was saying, before continuing. “Usually, we wait out an active lavastone. Lock the immediate area down, set up surveillance, dump some nullite on it to drain its magic faster. They’re usually safe by a year, year-and-a-half, whenever the runes stop glowing. After that, we can get close enough to seal it.”
Retcon nodded slowly, feeling queasy. I thought the Grav Destab sounded bad. Turning back to the ongoing conversation as Gurney leaned back, she noticed Sky watching the two of them, her expression inscrutable.
“…could maintain a water morphic spell around someone, give them a snorkel, and walk them in. We’ll just have to seal it while it’s active,” suggested Sparkler.
Misty Fly raised an eyebrow. “You can maintain a spell that big for long enough?”
Sparkler blanched. “Maybe… not by myself. With two or three of us, we might be able to hold it….”
“What about the Princesses?” asked Lemony. “They could hold the spell-”
“We’re not putting the Princesses anywhere near a lavastone,” stated Sky. “This idea is unfeasible, the morphic spell would necessarily get too close to the stone. Anypony holding the spell would be dead, and the spell would drop.” Sparkler scowled, cursing under her breath. Sky turned her glare on Gurney. “You have a thought?”
Gurney frowned down at the table. “The spell ends as soon as you leave the radius, right?” He shot Retcon an apologetic look, then turned to Sky with a serious expression. “Why don’t we send in Retcon?”
A chill went down Retcon’s spine. The emotions in the room twisted suddenly, making her feel dizzy.
A dangerous edge entered Sky’s glare. “Explain.”
“Well…” he gestured lamely in her direction with a wing. “Changelings don’t have fur.”
After a stunned pause, Shower piped up, “Wait, what about the…” she patted her mane, “… and the tail?”
“Both are membranous constructs. Changelings drones are completely hairless, not even so much as an eyelash. It’s something I was looking into to trace their phylogeny. Only the Queens have the capacity for hair, having both a mane and tail, though whether it's made of the same material is another matter. Drones…” he glanced at Retcon.
Sky was looking off into the distance, seemingly somewhat stunned. Everypony else was staring right at her. The emotions in the room were still too loud pick out specifics.
Retcon raised a forelimb into the air. “Um, I have fur.”
Gurney winced. “Ah, yeah, I mean your…” he rotated his wrist, “… native form.”
The dead-eyed creature with the huge teeth.
“No no, I’m not becoming that thing,” she said, shaking her head.
Dead silence, as they kept staring.
Then-
“That could work,” muttered Sky.
“Hey, woah, I’m not doing it!” she insisted.
Sparkler shot a glance at her colleagues before speaking up, “Wait, why not?”
“Because I’m not doing transforming!” Retcon flared her wings. “I’m staying like this.”
“So you’ve nev-… But you’re a changeling.” The fuchsia unicorn frowned. “That’s what you do!”
Was the room getting smaller?
“Retcon, look at me,” said Shower calmly. “I get it. I get why you don’t want to change, and we’re not going to force you to choose-”
“Good.”
“-but there are lives on the line,” she emphasised. “There’s a cursed artefact in the middle of the capitol city. It’s killed one pony, and we need to contain it before it kills again.”
“…I- ... I can’t! You don’t understand, I don’t want to lose this,” she gestured at herself. “I don’t know how to change, what if I can’t change back!?” I’m not gonna be that bug thing. I might not think like me anymore.
“Hey, of course you can change back,” said Gurney soothingly.
“But what if I can’t!”
“You can. I’ve got all the notes, remember? Changelings don’t need a template or anything to transform, though that helps. You could invent a form out of whole cloth if you wanted.”
“It’s true,” Shower interjected, “that face wasn’t somepony else’s, you made it up. Once you learn, you can change back.”
The griffon smiled disarmingly. “If you do this, I’ll help you with learning transformation so you can get back to normal as soon as. Deal?”
...
Her mouth was open awaiting words to respond, she glanced from face to face, all looking right at her.
...It’s not that simple, is it? Could I really just turn back? ...I don’t know how hard it is though, what if I can’t get it right?
...Just 'what if's...
I don’t want people to get hurt...
...but I don’t want to lose myself.
The walls were definitely closer than they should be.
This is all I am.
“Retcon, look at me,” said Sky. She turned to face the unicorn. “Take yourself out to the courtyard.” Her tone wasn’t unkind but brooked no argument.
“Huh-, why?”
“You need to think, and you won’t do it in here. Go.”
Shower nodded at her encouragingly.
…Yeah, okay. She got unsteadily to her hooves and, uncomfortably conscious of all the silent attention on her, turned and cantered down the hallway.
Retcon took a deep breath as she burst through the large doors to the outside world. She closed her eyes as she slowed, feeling the cool late-afternoon breeze through her mane and wings.
What do I do, what do I do…
For the past two days, she had pushed any thought or notion of attempting to shapeshift. It wasn’t a welcome revelation; she had had great difficulty trusting the world around her after she had first awoke with no memory, and her only rock throughout that had been, by necessity, herself. She knew she could trust herself, because her own mind was the only thing she truly knew.
When she had discovered it was all a lie, she had rejected as much as she could of the creature she used to be. Food was a concern because of the ever-worrying creep of hunger, but the blank-eyed, fanged beast… it was something she refused to associate with herself. It was something from her past, erased with her memories. Something she should forget about.
What she may have been before that point, didn’t matter. If she didn’t remember it, it wasn’t real. She was an olive pegasus, with a forest-green mane. When she looked in a mirror with her golden eyes, it was her face she saw.
She saw herself.
It was why she pushed away the very thought of shifting; it was something alien, something she shouldn't have. Maybe she would be able to turn back again, but… what if she couldn’t? Did she have to picture every detail exactly? What if she couldn’t do it, what if she could only find new forms but never return to old ones? What if she could only mimic other ponies, and the shape was borrowed? She could never get it back. Those had been her rationalisations; it was too great a risk, that it wasn’t even worth thinking about.
She would never change. That had been her decision. If the chance existed that she could lose her whole identity, then she would excise it from her mind.
She blinked hotly, grimacing as her vision started to blur.
The problem of course was that she knew exactly what the right decision was. She just wasn’t sure she was brave enough to take it.
The rustling amongst the tree branches increased as a strong breeze blew through. It always felt… so alive out in the open.
…
…Maybe she should do it anyway. This body of hers… it may be how she viewed herself, but it wasn’t what she was. Maybe she should be honest with herself? If she wanted to learn about who and what she was, maybe it was the only way?
And Gurney said he’d help teach me… She lifted a forelimb, inspecting the olive fur. I might be able to get back to this after, maybe. I don’t think he was lying, but could be mistaken. How could I know?
She huffed, lowering the forelimb. Would I even want to change back to this? For all I know, the way I think changes as well. Help changelings fit in better if acting like a pony isn’t an act.
…
…Somepony died. I could… stop the same thing happening again. She smiled sadly, choking back a sob as her eyes watered. I could go to Canterlot… do something to make up for that stupid Invasion. Wouldn’t that be cool…
Shutting her eyes again, she took a long, shaky breath through her nostrils, holding it for a brief second even though her chest threatened to convulse.
…Was I there…?
…Maybe that’s what I was running from.
“Retcon-?”
“Ack!”
Retcon jumped in the air, wings reeling, as she wheeled around. Standing behind her, a look of shock on her face, was Lemony. “Yeesh… You made me jump.”
“Uh, sorry,” said Lemony, looking at the ground. “Listen, I just came to say we need you to decide soon.”
Retcon nodded, and turned away, watching the wind play through the leaves of the trees. “…What happens… if I don’t?”
An acrid emotion played at her senses, filling her with guilt at the question.
“Misty’s gone out looking, but… dragons aren’t all that common among ponies. Like, at all. If she can find one soon, and if they can be convinced,” Lemony’s tone didn’t indicate confidence, “then we’re in the clear. Problem is, they’re not really known for it, but dragons can and sometimes do grow hair, and… well, they are dragons, but with magic fire, we’d need to run some safety tests first.” After a pause, Retcon heard a light sigh. “With a lavastone that’s just been activated, it’s going to be at least ten months before it’s even worth checking in on it, and the whole time, the nearest houses would need to remain empty, and the airspace directly above strictly monitored. If anyone gets too close to the house in that time… It’s doable, but in that time it could so easily go wrong.”
She liked watching the trees.
“No one outside of us even knows what a lavastone is anymore. Not even the Royal Guards. Runecrafting… it’s something that should stay forgotten.”
The leaves were such a nice shade of green.
“…Retcon?”
Sniffing, she turned to face the pink unicorn. “Hm?”
Lemony looked at her, worried.
“Just… can I have a minute?” asked Retcon. “…Just a minute…”
Lemony seemed about to say something for a moment, but instead just nodded shortly. “’Course.”
Retcon tried to smile.
“Pecorino.”
She blinked. “…Huh?”
Lemony was frowning to herself. “Next time you do carbonara… maybe try pecorino for the cheese.” Lemony looked her in the eye, emotions whirling. “It was very nice of you though. Thanks.”
Retcon’s smile became less false. “Yeah.”
With that, Lemony turned and trotted back inside the facility.
The world was spinning, blindingly bright, even when her eyes were closed. There was an almighty buzzing in her ear. She felt herself slouched on the ground.
“Hey there, take it easy champ.” Shower. The voice was kind of close.
Her headache subsiding to allow thought to resume, Retcon struggled to her hooves. Her stomach churned. “Yuurgh, that was unpleasant.” She blinked rapidly to shake the stars from her vision.
“Your first-time warping is always the worst. Take a moment, it’ll pass.”
Glancing hazily around, she saw that the room she, Shower and Lemony had been standing in had changed. The three were standing in the middle of a large metal dish, at the edge of which was a post with a panel of buttons and a big switch. A metal spear protruded from the middle of the ceiling directly above them, tipped with a huge, roughly-cut purple gem. Despite the similarities to the room she had stood in only a moment before, Retcon noted the different cut of the gem and a change in the uneven colour of the dish, not to mention the floor around the dish was suddenly made of wood, rather than that unnaturally flat, seamless rock that was so common in the Institute. The walls were stone, though constructed of large, irregularly-hewn bricks.
A Warp Room indeed.
She felt a pat on her shoulder as Shower walked past to the door. Lemony shot her a look of concern before following. Shaking her head briefly, Retcon hurried after, her scalp prickling from the distant murmur of emotion.
The room on the other side of the door was filled with papers of all different colours, decorated with large, friendly letters, stored vertically on the wall. As the door closed behind her, it fit flush with the wall around it as if it had never been a door, also holding more of the leaflets on the wall-side. A desk was in one corner, more leaflets on top and a collection of knick-knacks behind it. On the other end of the room...
A door, with a window at eye-level. The glass was heavily distorted, but light from the afternoon sun was pouring in.
Placing a hoof on the door handle, Shower paused and turned to Retcon. “Alright, stick close to us, yeah?”
Retcon nodded numbly.
The door opened. She had to shield her eyes from the sunlight as the other two passed in front of it. She followed outside, squinting as her eyes adjusted...
...She was met with the most beautiful view she had ever seen.
The door she had just stepped through was set into the bare rock of the mountain. They stood on a wide platform, like a pier. Which followed the side of the mountain around to a series of steps, leading further up to some nearby buildings.
She knew it was a mountain because, as she gingerly stepped up to the thick railing around the edge of the platform, a gust of wind blowing her mane out of her eyes, she could see the whole world.
She bore witness to a grand vista, of fields and hills and forests, with the frozen tops of mountains lining the horizon. Dotted around were splotches of what could only be villages and towns, with oddly-coloured shapes in the land nearby suggesting agriculture. The world had a blue tint to it the further away it was, eventually giving way to the majestic deep blue of the near-cloudless afternoon sky.
Retcon stared until she felt someone nudging her in the shoulder.
“Time enough for sightseeing later, I promise,” Shower said earnestly.
“…Right…”
Turning from the view, she followed the two ponies up the steps between two buildings, through an alley, out into a wide-open street filled with more ponies of all tribes, sizes and colours than she had ever seen. All around them were resplendent buildings in a stately, curved style, commonly built out of a white stone with pink and purple slate roofs, and gold-hued highlights.
She shirked for a moment, though no one seemed to pay any of them any mind. No one turned to look at them. No one called out to her. A stallion strode right past the alley entrance where she stood without so much as a sideways glance.
Even among so many eyes, she was invisible. Emboldened, she caught up with Lemony, wincing at the gnawing pain in her stomach.
Even so, she instinctively kept her head low, not just to avoid attention, but because of the sheer mass of feelings that were washing over her senses. Thankfully nothing too strong, but the background muddle most ponies seemed to produce had become somewhat more noticeable, tinged with several peaks of various sweet and bitter notes, all too cacophonous for her to judge direction or distance. It was much like the noise of so many living things all walking and talking in the same place, though it made her feel rather uncomfortable.
Just about able to walk side-by-side with Lemony, she indicated toward a building across the street with an open door and what looked like food lining the window. “Is that a shop?”
“Huh? Oh, yeah.”
When Lemony didn’t elaborate, Retcon fell back in step a bit, concentrating on staying close in the crowds.
The street they were on lead perpendicularly into a street that was even wider, a decorative statue in the centre surrounded by shallow water. There were still more ponies up and down the street than Retcon was comfortable with, though there was more space between them. Shower and Lemony pressed on, heading to another road on the other end, but Retcon almost stumbled to a halt when she glanced to her right and saw an unspeakably-grand building looming over the city, with magnificent towers stretching up into the sky.
She blinked and shook it from her mind, making sure she didn’t get left behind. Probably where the Princesses live.
After a few more turns into smaller, less busy streets, Retcon felt an increase in the background emotions. Up ahead, a crowd had gathered between the houses, all milling around and chatting, or straining to see what was in front of them.
As Shower started making her way through to the front, Lemony, shot Retcon a quick glance. “Stay with me, okay,” she said, before heading into the crowd.
Retcon felt utterly overwhelmed by the noise, the feelings, and the sheer stress of proximity. The crowd thankfully didn’t close in after Lemony had gotten past, allowing Retcon to keep up. While crowded the street wasn’t rammed, and most ponies shuffled out of the way as they saw them coming through, but Retcon was on edge the entire time, hoping the crowd would end soon.
Suddenly the street in front of her was all-but deserted as she stepped out from the large gathering and into the open. Confused momentarily by the sudden change, she quickly clocked Lemony just ahead and-
“I need you to get back if you could ma’am,” announced a commanding voice. A foreleg out of nowhere halted her abruptly. “Road ahead’s closed.”
“Wha-?” Retcon blinked, alarmed by the sudden talking. Restraining her was a worryingly-big grey stallion in golden armour. There appeared to be two of them, the other with a white coat, preventing the crowd from advancing.
“You can’t go this way, please step back.” The tone was uncompromising.
“No wait, I need-” She pointed at Shower and Lemony. “I’m with them!”
The nearest Guard frowned, shooting a glance at his partner. “You don’t look Special Ops to me.”
Beginning to panic, Retcon was scrambling for a response when Lemony turned to look back.
“Well then?” prompted the Guard, “who are you?”
Retcon clammed up, no idea how much she should say.
“It’s alright,” piped up Lemony as she drew close, her voice almost lost among the street sounds. “She’s with me.”
That increase in suspicion surfacing amongst the buzz must have been from the Guard, although there were a few loud whispers coming from the crowd behind her. The Guard turned to Lemony. “Ma’am?”
“Meringue, CF06 FDU. Let her through please.”
The change was instantaneous as both Guards seemed taken aback. The nearest Guard lowered his foreleg. Gingerly, Retcon stepped past him, catching up with Lemony. She didn’t look back, the Guards saying nothing as they left.
“Thanks,” she whispered, her insides feeling painfully tightly-wound.
“Sorry about that,” Lemony responded, the sternness once more absent from her voice. “I thought they let you through with us.”
“What was that thing you told him?”
“Hmm?” She glanced sideways at Retcon. “Oh, I just had to pull rank.”
The street was now completely empty bar the three of them. The sounds and sensations of the city gradually began to fade into the distance. As they passed roads and alleys, she would sometimes see more Guards keeping ponies out, and occasionally a pegasus in golden armour hovering way above the houses, but they crossed no one on the ground. Some of the houses they passed had wide open windows and one or two front doors, with tools and all sorts of objects sometimes just left lying around on the ground outside.
Turning one last corner, they came to a street with a gazebo on the middle of the road that clearly didn’t belong, with fabric covering all four sides.
“Okay this is very important Retcon, you listening?” asked Shower seriously, turning back to look her in the eye. “Do not wander off. Stay with us, and walk where we walk, okay?”
Gulping, Retcon nodded.
“Alright. You see that house there?” She pointed to a building further down the street, beyond the gazebo, with an unpainted wooden door, hanging wide open. “Don’t go near that house. Imagine there’s a big ball that’s centred in the middle, stretching out to the out to the other side of the street. Don’t go in that ball. Got it?”
Retcon stared at the house in question. “Is the range really that far?” Do the flying Guards stop pegasi getting too close?
“Not usually,” added Lemony. “To begin with the range is maybe 5 or 6 meters. Over time as it uses up magic, it loses effectiveness, still usually enough to kill but just not as quickly, but in turn its range expands. Better to play it safe.”
The air smelled different…
Trotting up to the gazebo, Shower lifted a flap on one side, holding it open for Lemony and Retcon to enter. Sky and Sparkler were already inside. On top of a flimsy-looking table with thin metal legs sat a padded box with a handle at the top.
There was a momentary sensation of warmth as Sparkler turned to face them. “Oh, you’re here!”
Sky’s light resting scowl lessened slightly as she glanced in their direction.
“Hey,” greeted Shower shortly.
“Does this mean you’re on board?” Sparkler asked pointedly at Retcon.
“Umm… yeah,” she said numbly.
Sparkler nodded. “Greatly appreciated.” She glanced at Sky. “Let’s get started, shall we?”
“Mmh,” Sky affirmed, and gestured with a hoof toward Shower. “Bring in Misty, if you could.”
“On it.” The pegasus shot Retcon one last glance before turning and leaving the gazebo, followed shortly after by a flapping of wings.
“Alright… Retcon, was it?”
Retcon nodded at Sparkler’s question.
“Do you know what a lavastone is?”
“Um, rock that sets ponies on fire.”
“Pretty much. I need you to pay attention right now; this needs to be handled exactly right, or you could get us all killed. Do you understand?”
Retcon nodded, her mouth dry.
“Good.” Sparkler turned and, using her magic to unclip the top of the box, opened it. Nestled in the padding was a cylinder, of similar diameter to her foreleg. It was made out of thick, dark reddish-brown material. It might not have been entirely opaque, though it was hard to tell, it may have been the light glancing off of its rough, somewhat shiny surface.
“This tube is made of nullite,” explained Sparkler as she lifted it out of the box in her hooves. “Kind of a rare material, but it’s the only thing we’ve found that can safely contain a lavastone. It has the unusual property of nullifying magic. Dunno what dingus gave it that name, it’s not really very creative. Anyway, watch and listen closely.”
Holding the cylinder with one foreleg, Sparkler twisted the flat end, loosening a lid at the top and revealing a seam a short way down. Removing the lid showed the cylinder to be hollow. “When the lavastone is sealed inside this, the nullite blocks its effect range, thus containing it.” She put the lid back on and twisted it in the opposite direction until the seam on the side disappeared. “You hear that click? That says it’s sealed. Make sure the lid is properly sealed, or you might as well be carrying the stone out in your mouth.”
“O-Okay.” Retcon was doing her best to concentrate, though she was getting the feeling she was in way over her head.
“Here, take it.” Retcon took the cylinder, tucking it under a forelimb. The touch of it seemed to tingle. “Alright, here’s what you’ve got to do; get in that house, find the active lavastone, and seal it in that. Do not move the stone any further. Once it’s sealed, stay where you are and shout. Got it?”
“Yep.” Her voice hitched, but if she cleared her throat now it would be more obvious.
“You remember I showed you the rock with the glowing runes?” asked Lemony gently. “The lavastone is going to look a lot like that. Different runes of course, but it’ll have the same sort of carvings glowing blue. It’s unlikely more than one will be active, but do check that there aren’t multiple lavastones.”
Retcon nodded absently. This is it, isn’t it… “So, how do I… you know…” She gestured half-heartedly at herself. Thought I’d have time to prepare, but… let’s get it over with. The severity of the situation gave her somewhat more urgency than she had anticipated. She was going through the motions rather than thinking about what was happening. She could worry later.
“Sky said you don’t know how to transform, right?” asked Sparkler. “Yeah, it’ll take too long to teach you, but I can use the nullite to undo it, it dispels changeling magic too. You’ll just snap back to your natural form.”
The tingling from the nullite made her fur stand on end.
Sparkler glanced at Sky. “I think that’s it. So yeah, whenever you’re ready.”
The weight of the situation was settling on her back. She looked to Lemony, but the unicorn was looking the other way. “I, uh… don’t think I ever will be, so let’s just go.”
Sparkler hesitated. “Is that a yes?”
No. She clenched her teeth. Don’t make me think about it…
“You’ll be alright,” Lemony said quietly. She offered Retcon a weak smile through her rising anxiety.
Bowing her head, she took one last look at the shade of olive of her coat, and closed her eyes. I hope I can undo this.
Hope I’m still me.
“Do it.”
She heard the chime of a magic aura nearby, centred on the nullite she held. The chiming increased for a moment, before a great burst of noise erupted from it. A crimson light washed over her, bright enough that she saw it even with her eyes closed.
The change was immediate.
She was gripped momentarily by an intense fizzing sensation that started from where she held the nullite, leaving her feeling dizzy and queasy, all within a fraction of a second.
As the fizzing reached her head, she felt a sudden jolting, as if she had been pulled back by her skull.
The red light behind her eyelids shifted to green.
Starting from her forehead, a wave of writhing heat passed through her. Even as she stood, she felt her body rapidly reform. She felt her face suddenly reshape itself, the shifting in her jaw forcing her to open her mouth. From the momentary feeling of unbalance as each leg changed one at a time, she felt her legs shorten as they were reshaped. The comforting warmth of her wings, a blanket against her back, suddenly vanished, replaced by something very alien.
In only a matter of seconds, Retcon the pegasus was no more.
Every part of her body, every sense and nerve-ending was wrong. Her legs were the wrong proportions. She no longer felt the subtle flow of air on her coat, her hide replaced with something different. The familiar weight of her wings had vanished entirely.
As she closed her mouth, she found two massive fangs jutting out from the front of her upper lip. Her jaw was the wrong shape, her teeth were concerningly jagged, and as she explored her new mouth she found her tongue to be uncomfortably alien.
Nothing felt right, nothing was familiar. She had become an entirely different person.
Sparkler was staring at her, suddenly slightly bigger than she was a second ago. Lemony was transfixed by the floor. She was generating dark feelings.
You’re still holding the thing, a small part of her mind noted. Feeling the room starting to spin, Retcon looked down to place the nullite on the floor-
...H-Oh jeez, that's...
The was something profoundly, intimately disturbing about seeing something completely different when she expected to see her own body, and to see it move on command. It was yet more disturbing to see so many holes in her legs. She gingerly lifted a forelimb up to look at it, thoroughly creeped out on a fundamental level that she could see right the way through it.
The limb was smooth, jet black and just slightly glossy. It was harder than flesh, though still flexible and malleable, and while not squishy still had some give when pressed. Bringing her hoof up to her face, she found more of the same, slightly restricting her expression. If she still had skin, it would have crawled at the feeling, the dulled sensation of touch as she brushed her cheek.
Everything she felt was profoundly wrong.
“Woah.” That was Sparkler's voice. Retcon glanced up. “Got to say that was pretty cool.”
Was she taller? No, Sparkler was the same size. Retcon now seemed to stand half a head shorter than she did before.
“Um-” Retcon blinked. Her voice had come out differently.
“You okay there?” asked Sparkler.
“Yeah, I’m... fine.” she replied, working her mouth around her fangs. The voice that came out of her mouth was more airy than she expected, and not distinctly male or female. It also had a strange fluttering to it, as if she were talking into a rotating fan. It wasn’t her voice. That was someone else.
Sparkler frowned. “Do you want to take a minute?”
Yes. “No.” Trying her best not to look at her limbs and to ignore the alien signals her body was sending her as she moved, Retcon picked up the nullite cylinder. “Deal with it l-later. Let’s go,” she said curtly, ears flicking at the sound of the stranger’s voice speaking so close. Before I freak out.
…At least my brain seems to think the same, I’m still… me. She drew a steadying breath, steeling her nerves. Just got to keep it together. Get the stone, worry later. One task at a time.
Sky looked on the surface as impassive as ever. “…Very well,” she said after a pause. “You have your instructions. Get in, locate the lavastone, contain it, and stay put.” Her resting scowl had all but vanished. “Whenever you’re ready.”
Retcon’s eyeline trailed to the ground, though looking away hurriedly as her forelegs came into view. She tried to ignore her muzzle on the edge of her vision. Sparkler gave her an encouraging nod and a quick “Good luck”. Lemony hadn’t moved much.
Retcon adjusted the nullite under her foreleg. “…Alright…”
She pushed aside the flap on the gazebo. Shooting a glance up and down the street, thankfully still devoid of any ponies, she stepped outside. Immediately she felt out-of-place; the sensation of the wind was noticeably dulled, lacking as she did her coat, mane and tail. The first few steps almost devolved into a stumble as she tried to make sense of her new, slightly shorter legs.
It was only when she stood outside with all the colours of the street that she noticed the change in her vision; the world seemed slightly more saturated, bright colours ever so slightly brighter and dull shades perhaps less dull. However, she seemed to have more difficulty bringing distant objects into focus as she used to. The grand towers of the castle reaching over the roofs looked a little blurrier than before, something she might not have noticed had she not been looking at it on the way up. At least close objects were sharp.
There was that smell again. As Retcon approached the house with the open door, a bitterness in the air started to become pronounced.
Conscious of the pegasus Guards she had seen earlier, she quickly reached the house. It was somewhat eerie, standing in an empty street and looking into someone’s vacant house. Resisting the urge to call out, feeling like she was intruding, she cautiously crossed the threshold, ducking so as not to hit the spike jutting out of her forehead, and stepped inside.
So far so good…
The smell hit her full-force. Burning, and smoke. Standing in a small hallway, she followed her nose to a door near the back, leading to-
Oh… Found you.
It appeared to be a kind of food-preparation room, with a few familiar heating appliances on and inset into the work surfaces, though unlike the one back at the Institute appeared to lack a cooling wardrobe. Unlike the wood-panelled hallway, the floor was made of stone tiles, which was perhaps the reason the building was still intact.
A blackened mass lay in the middle of the room, small wisps of smoke rising from it. The ceiling was a patchwork of dark splotches against the white paint, and the floor was strewn with a kind of black dust.
Retcon trod carefully, drawing shallower breaths and tried not to look at the thing.
On the nearby worktop was a huge bag with straps, much larger than a satchel or saddlebags. It appeared to be designed to sit on a pony’s back, able to carry much more stuff. It caught her attention because the bag was unzipped, with a box sticking out.
The box did not look like it belonged. It looked old, far older than anything in the house. It appeared to be made of discoloured stone, chipped and worn with intricate carvings on the sides which may have once been runes. It was difficult to make out detail from the carvings, being as they were not particularly sharp, perhaps weathered away. The lid, sitting slightly off-centre, was attached at the top by a very short length of frayed rope, which was tied at the other end to the back of the box.
The gentle blue glow coming from within told her she had found it.
Cautiously, Retcon approached the box. Even though she appeared to be safe, more so than the former resident was, it wouldn’t hurt to be careful.
She set the nullite on the surface beside the large bag, then glanced around the room. Seeing a collection of metal tools sticking out of a pot, she retrieved a pair of tongs. Grasping them in her forehooves, she gingerly hooked the tongs over the loop on the lid where the rope attached, and carefully lifted it off the box, setting it down just behind.
Inside was a decently-sized translucent crystal, milky-white in colour, asymmetrical with what appeared to be a small patch of rock attached at one end. Carved into the flat faces of the mineral were exceedingly fine etchings, perhaps of the same family as the runes Lemony had showed her before. Every rune glowed steadily with a soft blue. It was rather pleasant to look at for such a deadly thing.
Retcon paused to steady herself. Alright, don’t mess this up. Task one…
She twisted the top off the nullite, setting the lid to one side and placing the cylinder right next to the small box. Returning to the tongs, she gave them a few test clacks in the air to ensure her grip was steady.
Here we go…
As delicately as she could, Retcon positioned the tongs over the box, and gently picked up the lavastone, lifting it up and out. She held it there for a moment, pausing to blink a few times. Being careful to maintain her grip and not to rush the process, she positioned the crystal over the nullite tube, and lowered it down until the tongs touched the lip of the cylinder. With the lower half of the stone wholly within the cylinder, she let go of it with the tongs, letting the crystal drop and clink loudly at the bottom.
Retcon let out the breath she had been holding. She dropped the tongs and took a step back. The lavastone was now contained.
The stone box was completely empty, but her eyes wandered to the large bag it had come from. Being careful not to disturb the box or the nullite with the straps, she reached over and lifted up the bag, which was surprisingly heavy with all the things in it. A quick glance inside didn’t reveal any blue glow, nor any tell of old stone objects, mostly just an assortment of cloth. To be sure, she tipped the bag up, shaking the contents out onto the floor until it was empty. Poking through the resultant pile, she found mostly clothes and towels, a length of rope, some kind of multitool, a notepad, and several small objects that didn’t look particularly old or arcane. Nothing glowing blue.
Somewhat relieved, Retcon gave the room a final once-over, as well as briefly checking the other rooms as well, thankfully with nothing to show for it. Returning to the food room, she placed the top back on the nullite cylinder and twisted it down tight until it made a dull click and could no longer be twisted.
She turned the cylinder around, inspecting it with a frown. She felt the crystal inside clank as it moved. That was it, wasn’t it? Mission accomplished? She could no longer discern the seam from the lid. As far as she could tell, it was sealed correctly.
She stood in place with the nullite, conscious not to move it far from the spot she had found it, and craned her neck towards the door. “Okay, I got it!” she called out.
She heard hoofsteps a minute later. She couldn’t help but second-guess her actions, but the approaching pony didn’t falter or begin shouting even as they entered the house.
It was Sky who stepped into the room with her, her horn aglow with a green aura and a serious expression on her face.
Retcon held the nullite closer. “I, uh, think I got it.”
Sky shot a momentary glance at the burnt thing on the floor, then approached Retcon. Focusing on the nullite, she lifted a foreleg and touched a hoof to it.
A heartbeat. She held it there.
And then-
Sky lowered her forelimb, and just for a moment Retcon tasted a blip of emotion from her. The unicorn nodded curtly. “Good work.”
Retcon felt like she could collapse with relief, making sure she wasn’t about to lose her grip. She gingerly held it out toward the unicorn. “…Do you-?”
“You hold it. Even sealed, levitation is a bad idea. Can you carry it outside?”
Drawing a steadying breath, Retcon nodded.
With Sky taking point, Retcon trotted three-legged out through the hallway, paying close attention to where she was placing her hooves. It was only with the focus on her task that she was able to quell her shock as she stepped out into the street and saw, standing beside Sparkler, Lemony, Misty Fly and Shower outside of the gazebo, a unicorn in golden Royal Guard armour looking right at her. She certainly felt his shock though.
“Wait here,” said Sky, stopping Retcon just on the doorstep, making her way over to the gazebo. The Guard, a stallion with a white coat and blue mane and tail, said something and pointed, not taking his eyes off her for long. Retcon averted her eyes. Deal with it later, she thought, clenching her teeth.
She looked up when she noticed Shower heading over, seemingly anxious tinged with something more hopeful.
“Nice one.” Shower inclined her head approvingly, stopped just in front of her. “I’ll take that off you.”
Recon delicately transferred the nullite to Shower, who cradled in firmly both forelegs. With a nod and a grin, Shower spread her wings. “See you back at base!” She then kicked off with her hind legs, flying straight upwards before levelling out and gliding away, a distant dot in the sky.
A sudden motion brought Retcon’s attention back to the gazebo. Misty Fly had taken off from the ground, following after Shower from a distance.
Retcon felt somewhat dizzy. Task complete. Hesitating for a moment, she made her way over to the others, watching the Guard warily.
Sparkler seemed about to speak, but the Guard beat her to it. “I’m hoping you have an explanation for this,” he said. His armour and helmet were a gleaming gold, and there was a small emblem of two vertical bars off-centre on the chest plate beside a large gem.
“Of course.” Sky’s light resting scowl had returned. “More to the point, the dangerous artefact has been removed out of the city. We’ll need to do a sweep of the building to confirm, after which we will return jurisdiction to you, Captain.”
The Guard looked like he could smell something bad. “Yes, thank you. What manner of artefact are we talking?”
“You will receive a report on the particulars,” stated Sky plainly, tilting her head slightly.
“Dare I expect a complete report? The last paper I read from the R.I.I contained a whole load of nothing.”
“Certainly. I will see to it personally that you will be given a full and complete report of everything that you need to know.”
“Good,” replied the Guard. There seemed to be a buildup of negative emotions coming from nearby, which Retcon surmised was probably coming from him. The Guard then turned to glare at her. “Now what may I ask-”
“Before you go, I have need of something from you,” interrupted Sky.
The Guard gave her a look. “What is it?”
“Your armour, please.”
His eyes narrowed dangerously. “I beg your pardon?”
“You are pardoned,” Sky responded coolly.
The Guard stated at her, an eye twitching. With a shake of his head, his horn lit up and both his armour and his helmet appeared beside him in a flash. In an instant, his coat shifted to a light red, with a brown mane. He scowled at Sky, but said nothing.
“Thank you,” said Sky. “That’s all. Naturally, I’m certain you’ll be discreet with regard to today’s events. I’m sure we’re in agreement.”
“Yes, of course,” he said through clenched teeth. With a final glance in Retcon’s direction, the Guard turned and strode away.
It was starting to get a lot harder not to notice the colour of her muzzle in her peripheral vision. The way every nerve felt wrong, how everything had the wrong proportions, how she was lighter on her hooves and closer to the ground.
“Was that really necessary?” asked Sparkler.
The armour and helmet were twisting slowly in the air in front of Sky, suspended in her green aura. They halted as she turned to look at Sparkler, her look of concentration fading as she quirked an eyebrow.
“I mean, having the Captain see Retcon,” Sparkler added.
“Yes.” The armour continued to tumble in place as she resumed watching it intently. “He knows better than to blab, and it’ll serve us in the long run.”
“Right.” Sparkler appeared unconvinced.
Retcon glanced briefly at Lemony, looking away quickly. The unicorn hadn’t looked at her since she had gotten back. She didn’t blame her.
…Well, what next? What am I supposed to do now?
“There,” Sky said to herself as the armour and helmet ceased turning in the air. She dropped them both in front of Retcon. “I’ve tweaked the illusion spell to be a bit more potent. Normally it just shifts the wearer’s natural colouration to match the Guard uniform. This should mask your eyes, teeth, and the holes in your legs too, as long as no one looks too closely. It’s more draining on the gem so don’t dawdle, and don’t draw attention to yourself. Lemony, get Retcon back to the facility.” She set off in the direction of the house. “Sparkler, you’re with me.”
“Alright,” Sparkler called after. She turned towards Retcon, alternating between eye contact and looking at the ground. “Hey, listen, umm... You’ve been a great help today, so, uh...” Sparkler swiftly leaned in close and pecked her on the cheek, quickly moving back after. Retcon flinched in surprise. “I don’t know if that’s any good to you, but uhh... for what it’s worth, thank you. You saved our skins today, literally.” With an awkward half-grin, she hurried off after Sky.
Retcon watched as she went, stunned. She suppressed a shudder. Now was not the time to be self-conscious.
Lemony scuffed the ground with a hoof, glancing up. “Umm… How are you feeling?”
Retcon shrank from the question. “Not great. Don’t know. Trying not to think about it.” She tried not to look the unicorn in the eye.
Lemony hummed shortly. “Well, thanks for coming. You’ve saved us a lot of trouble.”
Charcoal-coloured, hole ridden forelegs drifted into view. “Yeah.”
“…Um…” Lemony half-lifted a hoof towards her, then dropped it, glancing restlessly behind herself.
Retcon glanced up. “…Can we go?”
Lemony nodded jerkily. “…Sure.”
She let her mind wander as she struggled into the golden armour, with Lemony a few paces away. All of her senses were being bombarded with warning signals that something was wrong, and it was all she could manage to ignore everything and just keep moving. One step at a time, one task at a time. She could worry when they got back.
She was anxious to get back. There was a lot she needed to think about.
Lemony was anxious too. Retcon kept her interactions as short as possible.
With the armour on, she saw her legs had shifted to white, with a subtle indication of a regular coat. She hadn’t felt the change, the illusion was more like wearing a sheet over her real form, rather than the full-bore transformation from before. The mask was passable, though if she looked closely, she thought she could make out the holes in her legs. She certainly still felt them, it seemed sight was the only sense the armour’s spell could fool. Lemony confirmed that her eyes looked normal, though going by her withdrawn demeanour, Retcon agreed it would be best for them to hurry.
The journey back was a blur, even as she walked. Once they reached the Guards’ cordon, the crowds parted to allow the two of them through. She felt her heart hammering in her neck, but no pony spoke to her, no one gave her a second look. She walked with purpose, eyes forward on the road ahead, acting as if she were in control, as if she knew where she was going and what she was doing.
They were suddenly back at the platform with the place leading to the Warp Room. Retcon spared a momentary glance out towards the evening sun setting over the world, before swiftly following Lemony inside.
It was beautiful, she was sure, but she wasn’t seeing it.
It had been dark outside her window for a few hours.
The enormity of her situation had finally sunk in when she had gotten back to the Institute. Lemony had awkwardly tried to talk, but Retcon couldn’t remember what it had been about. They had parted at some point, with Retcon taking herself to her room.
She laid on her bedsheets, flat on her side rather than curled up. To curl up tight would be to emulate holding oneself. Retcon could derive no comfort from such an allusion.
Sleep had eluded her, as her mind wouldn’t calm. What ifs and maybes swirled around her, dizzying and making her stomach churn. These thoughts were of no value to contemplate, but she couldn’t stop.
Her chest would occasionally convulse, like sobbing, though her eyes never watered.
Pegasus no more. Her name was Retcon, and she was a changeling. It was no longer something she could ignore. The reminder followed her wherever she went.
She couldn’t yet bring herself to examine the changes more closely. The fact that she now possessed an alien body, that she had lost her face and her own voice, it was something she would have to come to terms with. But she couldn’t just yet. It was too much all at once.
And so she lay there, unmoving, her brain churning through possibility after awful possibility. A passive passenger, she waited for sleep to finally claim her.
Retcon lowered her forehoof, looking back up at the large bedroom mirror. The creature stared back at her. She was having a hard time associating the image with her concept of self.
It might have still been morning, she wasn’t sure. At any rate, it had been light for a while. As the reality of her appearance had begun to set in, she had awoken with something of a morbid curiosity, electing to familiarise herself with her new form.
Chitin. She had found the word in her dictionary when reading about insects, leading to looking up exoskeletons, a concept that made her teeth grate. That was the word for the substance she now had instead of skin and a coat. Jet-black with a slight gloss if not exactly shiny, it was a tougher hide than flesh, but still plenty pliable. If she pressed a hoof to the side of her foreleg, the chitin still gave; she still seemed to be gooey underneath like most living things. It felt like she still had a regular skeleton too, as she poked and prodded her joints and skull. It certainly felt bizarre to move and was perhaps a little less touch-sensitive than skin, but it wasn’t exactly armour. At best, she imagined that paper cuts were a thing of the past.
Just like she had done on her first day, Retcon put a hoof to her chin, turning her head this way and that in the mirror. There was no resemblance she could see in the shape of her face to the one she had possessed before. Even putting aside species, she had the face of a complete stranger, and it unnerved her to see it move when she did.
A wicked pair of fangs jutted out from the upper lip of her now-more-slender muzzle. The shape of her jaw felt strange when she closed her mouth, or when she spoke. She couldn’t jut her lower jaw forward without hitting her upper fangs. Her eyes were a solid teal, and almost seemed to glow, particularly in low light. Inspecting her reflection, she couldn’t tell which way her eyes were pointing just from looking at them. She also now possessed a curved horn, small but sharper than those of unicorns. Down the back of her neck was a membranous sail in place of a mane, made of the same dark grey stuff as her tattered tail.
Her great feathered wings were gone, replaced by two sets of thin diaphanous insectoid wings, one pair moving up while the other whips down, pockmarked by the odd hole as with her legs. Her backplate where they attached down to her segmented abdomen had become an iridescent dark green. She couldn’t quite bring herself to be particularly upset at the loss of her wings, though she wasn’t sure whether it just hadn’t sunk in just yet, and so did her best not to think too much about it. Nevertheless, she wasn’t quite so disturbed by her new membranous appendages as she had imagined. She could almost call them… pretty. She wasn’t sure how she should feel about that.
What did disturb her was how tattered and delicate they appeared. They were translucent and almost as thin as paper, and as she had discovered when she tried to sleep, they were very sensitive. As she paced about her room, she had become aware that the handles on the doors were roughly the same height as her back. The notion of getting something caught in one of the holes in her wings was worrying. She held them close.
She was a changeling. She looked into the mirror, and the creature stared back. But inside... Retcon felt no different. As far as she could tell, she thought the same thoughts, felt the same feelings. She was still Retcon. As much as everything had changed, she realised...
...nothing had.
Her reflection watched her mutely.
A loud thumping at the door shook Retcon from her thoughts.
“Hey, you in there?”
Shower? Retcon cleared her throat. “Um. Yeah,” she replied absently.
There was a pause, then, “Well can I come in?”
No, it’s my door, I’ll open it, she thought as she made her way over. She opened the door inwards, revealing Shower standing alone in the hallway.
There was a brief moment of hesitation from the pegasus as their eyes met. “There you are. I was starting to get worried you’d left.”
Retcon bit her tongue. “…No. Still here. What is it?” She cringed inwardly at the sound of the voice she had, at the weird way it fluttered. It didn’t sound anything like her.
“I-” Shower glanced down the hallway, rubbing the back of her neck. “…I just wanted to check up on you, you’ve locked yourself away all day.”
“I’m fine,” she replied tersely.
“Uh huh. Tell you what, why don’t you come out with me, we’re having a get-together outside.” She indicated her head toward the hallway. “It’ll do you good.”
“No thanks. Think I’ll stay.”
Shower took a step forward over the doorway threshold. “Look… I know that sometimes, people want to be left alone. The value of your own company, I get that. But right now, I think you need a little… normalcy.” She half-smiled. “Just for a bit, yeah?”
Retcon scowled. “I’m not like you. How would you know what I need?”
“I knew you before you did,” Shower said coolly. “Just, trust me on this. Give me half an hour. Then you can come back and wallow all you want. Deal?”
I’m not wallowing… Retcon sighed. “…Who’s there?”
“Just me and Gurney, we’re out in the courtyard.”
…I do need to speak with Gurney… “…Alright, fine,” she said, trying to sound annoyed despite the small jolt of happiness she felt from the pegasus.
Retcon felt smaller, more exposed out in the open. Every corner could reveal someone standing there, every door could open as she passed. She was now half-a-head shorter than before, but that wasn’t the only reason the hallways seemed bigger.
Despite her jumpiness, the two of them didn’t run into anyone on their way to the courtyard. Retcon almost breathed a sigh of relief as the great double doors opened to reveal Gurney seated alone at a garden bench out on the grass.
Gurney was eating from something held in his claws. Glancing up, he raised a wing in greeting.
Retcon has half-expected to see more people waiting for her and had been bracing for if somepony new was there. Seeing just Gurney was encouraging, though she still gave the open sky a cursory scan.
Beside her, Shower waved a wing back at the griffon.
“Hey, good of you to join us!” declared Gurney cheerfully. “How’re you doing?”
“Fine,” Retcon replied, managing not to sound terse. Following Shower’s lead, she took a seat at the bench next to her, facing the griffin. She kept her forelegs off the table and out of sight, though her wings fluttered slightly in the breeze. “What’re you eating?”
“Sandwich,” the griffon replied idly, looking down at the bread partially wrapped in metal foil. “Don’t ask what’s in-” He smirked. “Actually, you want to know?”
“I don’t, thanks,” piped up Shower. Gurney snickered to himself. Scrunching down the open-ended side of the foil, he set it aside.
Retcon frowned. “…So, what’s this about? ‘Let’s all look at the weird thing’, or what?”
“No,” said Gurney. “More like, ‘we know the weird thing had a heavy day yesterday, so we’d like to check in on the weird thing and make sure she’s doing okay’.”
Retcon suppressed the urge to be short in response. “I’m… good, thanks. Just…” She hunched her shoulders, looking away. “…Just getting the hang of everything.”
Gurney bobbed his head. “Understandable.” He glanced briefly to one side, his expression shifting. “Sorry, by the way. I put you on the spot and kinda volunteered you to help with the lavastone. That was wrong, but… it was the only way I could think to contain it. Sorry about that.”
“Oh, right. Thanks. I mean… I get it, and… Thanks.” Retcon nodded. “It’s fine.”
“What’s it like?” asked Shower earnestly. “Now you’re back to, well, this?”
Retcon frowned down at the table. “It’s… weird. I can’t really describe it.” Her voice hitched occasionally as she spoke. She lifted a foreleg to look at it. “Everything is the wrong shape, and bends wrong. I dunno, I try not to think about it. I guess… since everything seems the same up here,” she tapped the side of her head, “I just try and pretend nothing’s changed.” She looked up at Gurney. “Would you… you said you could tell me how to… use this?”
Gurney cocked his head. “Your transformation magic?”
“Mmh.”
“I reckon so,” he nodded. “Going back over the papers, old-you gave us a lot of detail on how it works, but not so much on how to teach someone how to do it. It’s kind of something you- your kind seem to figure out on your own.”
Retcon wilted in her seat. “But then-”
“That doesn’t mean no,” said Gurney. “It means I can give you pointers and any help I can, but you’ll have to find the answers from there.” He scratched the side of his beak with a talon. “I don’t know all that much about spellcasting, but if it’s like other things, it should come pretty naturally to you. After all, you’re not starting from scratch here. Your body already knows how to do it, you’ve just forgotten how.”
“How long did it take for you to start flying again?” asked Shower pointedly.
“…Pretty much straight after we met.” Retcon noticed the smug look Shower was giving her. “…Alright, I get it. …Thanks.”
The wind felt strange as it played at the crest she had in place of a mane. Strange, yet still somewhat pleasant, as it always felt when she was outside. She felt warm inside.
She wondered idly if her legs would make sounds if she stood in the wind the right way.
Shower and Gurney were treating her the same as they always had. She was the same inside, thinking the same thoughts, and her… friends were acting no different. She just looked different.
Hmm…
“What happened with the lavastone?” she asked. “Is that-… That’s all over, right?” She hadn’t given it much thought since she had returned from Canterlot.
“We got it back safe, yeah,” said Shower. “Made it back in good time too, it was still light out. You don’t wanna go flying over the Everfree at night.” She rustled her wings. “We’ve got a vault for things like it on-site where we can wait for it to safely run itself dry. Mission accomplished: cursed artefact contained.” She grinned. “I really can’t tell you how much trouble you saved us, helping out. I know how big… this is for you. So yeah, thanks for your help. Seriously.”
“Sure.” Retcon shrugged, though she didn’t feel particularly nonchalant. I really don’t know how to respond to that, she thought. And don’t make it out like it’s a big deal. It’s done.
“I mean it. Unless we could’ve got clearance to let the new Princess know we exist so that we could recruit her baby dragon, which would also be a paperwork nightmare for more reasons than I can count, we would have had a whole neighbourhood in Canterlot in 24-hour quarantine for at least the next few days. Not many dragons rattling around Equestria, least not many friendly ones.”
Retcon sniffed. “How did it get all the way into the city without activating?”
“Heck if I know,” said Shower. “The dude’s not around to say. I’d ask Sparkler; it’s her assignment, maybe she’s figured it out.” She shot Gurney a look. “Come on, really?”
The griffon glanced up from his sandwich he had just unwrapped. “Wha’?” he asked, beak full of food.
Shower rolled her eyes. “Nothing.”
Retcon snorted in amusement. Shower gave her a brief side-glance, smiling lightly, but said nothing.
She felt warm inside.
She felt an ear flick. Where was that warmth coming from? The walls of the Institute cast shade over most of the courtyard, so it wasn’t-
Her breath caught in her throat. She looked at Shower without moving her head.
Oh no.
“What’s up?” Shower asked. “There a fly on my face?” She wiped a hoof over her muzzle.
“Uh, no, I-” I need to leave. “I just…” She stood abruptly. “I’m going to get a drink.”
“Hold up,” Shower interrupted, stopping the changeling on the spot. She got to her hooves as well. “You stay here, I’ll grab the drinks.”
“Oh, uhh.” Retcon gingerly sat back down. “Alright.”
“You better be here when I get back, yeah?” Shower grinned, then turned and cantered to the doors, wings fluttering as she went, as if she were about to take off.
Retcon shrank into her seat, glancing around. The warm feeling had gone.
“Everything okay?” asked Gurney between bites.
“No. Problem.” She shook her head. “Need to go.”
“Woah, woah, woah,” Gurney dropped the sandwich, waving his talons placatingly. “What’s going on?”
“Umm…” Retcon hesitated, halfway out of her seat. Can I tell Gurney? I can tell Gurney, right? He’ll understand. “…I think I just… F-From Shower, I think I… took some energy…” She trailed off, feeling exposed.
“Oh yeah?”
It wasn’t a response she was expecting. “What do I do? I didn’t mean it, honest!”
“Tell her,” he replied plainly.
Retcon reeled. “I can’t-!” She glanced behind toward the doors, then lowered her voice. “I can’t tell her!”
“Why not?”
“‘Cos I shouldn’t have done it!” She exclaimed, gesturing with her forelimbs.
“Yeah, that’s called ‘owning up’.”
“Ugh.” Retcon dropped her chin to the table. “It’s not that simple,” she groused.
Gurney cocked his head slightly. “Alright, I’ll give you that. …But I think I know how you can make it simpler.”
“How?”
He glanced up over her shoulder. “Just trust me on this.”
Alarmed, she turned to see Shower trotting back across the grass, wings close to her sides. Retcon tried to marshal her body language, trying to seem like nothing was amiss. The warm feeling had yet to return.
As she approached the bench, Shower reached under her tightly-closed wing and produced three cans, placing them in turn on the table. “Drinks,” she announced in the silence.
“Danke.” Gurney grabbed a can and tapped the top with a talon. “Oh, we were just talking. Retcon has something she wants to say,” he said conversationally.
Retcon glared at the griffon. What.
“Oh yeah?” Shower crossed her forelegs on the table, giving Retcon a look of interest. “What’s up?”
Urgh, this is so… Fine, I’m trusting you on this. “Umm, well…” She scratched the back of her neck, avoiding the crest. “Alright, don’t get mad.”
Gurney’s eyes seemed to twinkle.
“Okay?” Shower raised a brow. “Good start.”
Say it, you’re making it worse. Retcon shrunk down in her seat, pointedly looking down at the table. “I, um… I think I… took some of your energy. I-I’m really sorry.”
There was a stillness after she spoke. She glanced up to see Shower with a look of mild shock. She felt her eye twitch.
Shower gently placed her drink back on the table, lifted a foreleg in the air, then pumped it down. “Booyah!”
Retcon blinked, ears flattening. Huh?
The pegasus leaned forward, exuding enthusiasm. “When? What were we talking about? How’d it happen?”
“U-Uhhh…”
Across the table, Gurney burst out laughing.
Retcon stammered. “W-Well I don’t know, it… We were just talking and-” She almost choked on her words, wings starting to flutter madly, as she recognised the warm feeling again, as if she were basking in a bright sunbeam. “I-I thin- I’m sorry, i-it’s- I think it’s happening now.”
Shower looked idly upwards. “Huh. I don’t… feel all that different. I wonder what changed. You haven’t managed this before, right?”
“No course I haven’t! Urgh…” Retcon shrank in her seat. “…I dunno, guess you never really liked me much.”
Shower gave her an odd look. “I like you.”
“Not much before,” she mumbled at the table. “Can I go now?”
Crossing her forelegs, Shower leaned back smugly. “Nah.”
Retcon squirmed. “Why are you so okay with this?”
The pegasus’ grin dimmed, her emotions mixing slightly, though the feeling of inner warmth didn’t abate. She sighed after a moment. “Alright, yeah… It is a bit… ick. But all the same, you’ve gotta get food somehow. I’m just glad I can finally help.”
“Why?”
“It’s like… like if a vampire came up to you and- Do you know what a vampire is?”
Retcon shook her head dumbly.
“Alright, imagine a pony who can’t eat regular food, they have to drink a pony’s blood to survive instead. Time and a place for your dumb predator jokes,” she added sharply without looking at Gurney, who shut his beak. “Point is… I get it, it’s weird to speculate about it, but…” Her eyes appeared to smoulder as her emotions turned. “If a friend came up to me and said, ‘hey, I’m actually a vampire, I’m hungry and I don’t know what to do,’ I’d be like… well I’ve got plenty of the stuff, y’know. Least I could do is share I guess.” She turned away as she trailed off, her embarrassment clear from her body language alone. “Anyway, that’s how I rationalise it,” she said with a shrug, picking up her drink.
Retcon blinked, her face warm. How do I even respond to that?
“So how’re you feeling now?” Shower asked before she could reply.
Retcon frowned. “Like I’m taking advantage of you.”
To her annoyance, the flow of warmth seemed to increase slightly as the pegasus laughed. “Dude, I volunteered for this. If I wasn’t fine with it, I wouldn’t be here. Chill.” She took a swig of her drink. “Just don’t go overboard, yeah? I’m still at work right now.”
“This is work?” Retcon gestured around the courtyard.
“Current assignment; feed the weird thing.” Shower leaned back with her drink. “Check.”
She didn’t feel much like laughing, but nonetheless appreciated the levity. A not-quite-smile tugged gently at her face.
“Uhm… Thanks…”
“Don’t make it awkward.” After a pause, Shower lowered her voice. “You’re welcome.”
“Wait,” Retcon started. Might be a stupid question, but… “Are vampires real?”
“Nah, they’re made up,” said Gurney, smirking. “Rule No. 1 of working for the Institute; don’t believe that for a second.”
The gentle mid-afternoon breeze, though as pleasant as always, certainly felt somewhat peculiar in her new form. No longer did it play with her mane and tail, nor brush against her coat. Instead it felt as if she were underwater, feeling the slight push of the wind, most noticeable on her crest and delicate wings.
Eyes closed, she concentrated on her breathing. Easier said than done, as even the sound of her breath was different, much closer than the distant low rustle of countless trees. The unfamiliarity was distracting.
“So what exactly am I looking for?” she asked, opening one eye to look at the griffon sitting opposite on the grass.
Gurney flipped through the papers before him. “Whatever changeling magic feels like,” he said absently.
Retcon ground her teeth. There was no point in asking the obvious question.
“When a unicorn summons their magic,” he continued, “they describe it as a… a sort of fizzing, sparking kind of feeling. Might be similar to that. You ever had an electric shock?”
She gave him a look.
“I’ll see if we still have that crank magneto lying around,” Gurney muttered, tapping his beak. “Maybe that’ll help you reach your magic. Eh, it’d be informative either way.”
The two stayed out in the courtyard for a short while longer before Gurney called an end to the session. He had notes on how a changeling used their magic, but not on how a changeling accessed magic.
Retcon imagined an invisible limb protruding from her chest, near her heart, and focused on trying to move it. She had figured out her pegasus wings very quickly, but she could see those, she could feel those. She knew they were there, and she could understand the muscles she needed to pull. Likewise, her new insectoid wings, though different in structure entirely, moved with little thought. She felt no such starting point for magic.
She had tried everything they had together thought of; she had tried concentrating on lighting her horn. She had imagined pushing energy to her forehead (which only made her dizzy), and tried throwing her force of will out from within. She had imagined a reservoir of water deep within herself, and tried to feel a trickle of a stream flowing from it, tried dipping a bucket into it, to siphon some of it off. To her frustration, no matter what she tried, how she analogised it, she had felt no different.
“Focus on finding your magic for now,” Gurney had said. “It’s in there somewhere, and it’ll come to you naturally when you figure out the trigger. Remember, right up until you were retconned, you could switch forms with hardly a thought. Just keep at it and try not to overthink it. Let it come to you.”
She stayed behind after Gurney went inside, relishing her own company in the afternoon air. She was annoyed, electing to direct her frustrations toward mulling over her situation. Seated alone on the grass, her eyes closed and her breathing steady, she tried the suggestions again, and imagined up new metaphors for how to access her magic. The presumption was that when she found it, her horn would light up the way a unicorn’s did and she would feel something.
Eventually, as the shadow of the courtyard walls reached the other side, Retcon called it quits. It didn’t feel like she had made much progress, but Gurney’s conciliatory words kept her from feeling too downhearted.
She did however feel restless. Since she still had some daylight left and little else to do, Retcon inquisitively stretched her sets of wings.
The insectoid wings were nothing like the feathered appendages she had become accustomed to. There were no bones or joints, no muscles or tendons in the thin membranes. They couldn’t bend or fold, she was only able to move them at the base. The muscles in her back that controlled them, if indeed muscles they were, seemed prone to twitching when moved. She had meant to gradually raise her wings, but they seemed to want to rapidly flit instead, like they weren’t built for slow, deliberate movement. Rather than intentionally flapping her wings up and down, Retcon found that tensing these back muscles caused them to buzz without her having to think about the individual motions.
After buzzing her wings experimentally a few times, she gradually increased the rate, feeling herself become lighter as her hooves drifted away from the ground. Despite their size and apparent flimsiness, she was surprised by their output; though nowhere near as powerful as her pegasus wings, it seemed their higher rate made up for it.
Perhaps she shouldn’t have been surprised that she picked up flight as a changeling faster than as a pegasus. Even though she had no memory of it before, she found there was less she had to think about. Flying on pegasus wings was like learning to walk. She had to intentionally pull and push the muscles at just the right rate, making sure to angle them downwards so she didn’t just flop forward onto her face, and then keep that rate constant when in the air. It was something she had got the hang of, but it took a short while to wrap her head around initially. With her changeling wings, all she needed to do was increase or decrease the tension in the wing muscles in her back, essentially acting as a throttle for the buzz rate. With only a gentle shift of her weight, she found she could move, turn and dive with a surprising degree of fine control. It felt like she was being pulled around in the air by intent alone.
Emboldened by the freedom of movement, Retcon buzzed up to one of the upper windows of the Institute, turned, and aimed for a window directly across the courtyard, building up speed and confidence as she repeated the lap. She wasn’t quite as fast as on feathered wings, though she wasn’t slow by any means, but the speed at which she could change direction on the air was startling. Retcon laughed aloud with delight as she barrelled around in the air.
A window caught her eye. It was one of the windows with metal bars set into it, and a thought dampened her mood slightly. It was a thought she hadn’t considered for a while with everything that had been going on.
What was in the rooms with the bars?
She flitted over to the window and, lifting a foreleg to the glass to shield the bright glare of the sky, peered inside.
She saw shelves, lines of shelving units reaching up to the ceiling. She saw boxes lining the shelves, all with small labels. No one was home.
She snorted darkly, shaking her head. Storage. Just storage.
Door after door crawled past her peripheral vision as she walked. Her legs kept moving of their own accord, carrying her somewhere ahead. A touch of a frown graced her expression. A stranger would be forgiven for assuming she was discontent. That was the problem.
Retcon has spent the better part of an hour flying around the courtyard, familiarising herself with her new wings. She had only flown a few times before, it was something that she had enjoyed, but there hadn’t been many situations over the past week where flight had been the preferable option over just simply walking. She had assumed this would not be the case once she had left the facility; how she had longed to take to the air during the visit to Canterlot! But still, there had just been more important things to think about.
And so it had come as a shock how much she had enjoyed flying on her membranous wings. The jump in her agility was a delightful surprise. She could bank tighter, accelerate harder, even reverse direction mid-air far faster than she had become accustomed to. While she felt she had never attained her maximum speed on pegasus wings given the limited space above the courtyard, the level of fine control she now had was an amazing feeling. It was enough to make her ignore how her stomach no longer grumbled.
A bug’s wings, maybe. Butterfly’s wings… Not exactly, and perhaps a tad self-unctuous. Dragonfly wings? Retcon glanced over her shoulder as she walked. She liked the sound of that.
Having been a pegasus, she had given very little thought to the notion of wielding magic. It was rather easy to forget the protrusion of chitin on her forehead. So far she had only seen Sky and Sparkler perform magic, mainly the lifting and manipulation of things by means of an energy aura. Obviously learning about her transformation magic was priority, it would be nice to return to the way she was before, to her… Well it wasn’t her ‘true’ form, nor her ‘original’ form. This one was. Her ‘preferred’ form, perhaps.
That was the funny thing; when she thought of ‘Lemony’, it was the cheery pink unicorn with the nice mane that came to mind. For ‘Sky’, it was those piercing, angular emerald eyes. But for ‘Retcon’, she could only picture an olive pegasus with a messy green mane. Maybe this form wanted it’s own name, but that would needlessly complicate things.
After she figured out transformation, well, what other magic could she learn? Could she too learn object manipulation? That certainly looked rather useful. What else could one do with magic? It was a whole field of possibility she had never even considered back when she didn’t have a horn.
And if she could master her transformation magic… what other forms could she take? Could she really be anything she wanted?
The thought worried her, though she wasn’t exactly sure why. The possibility had crossed her mind of improving her old form slightly. What if she took the opportunity to lose a bit of weight, just a little? To be sleeker, like the other pegasi? While she was slimmer now, as a pony she hadn’t been too far off what appeared to be the average. She hadn’t found issue with it before, and maybe she shouldn’t now just because she had the option to change it. If she changed her (what she considered) plain face, it wouldn’t really be her anymore. If she made herself taller or stronger, if such options were available, wouldn’t that be cheating?
The notion of… testing her changeling magic once she figured it out was certainly an attractive one, but if she was going to, maybe it would be best to invent new forms rather than altering ‘herself’.
…What would it be like to be somepony else? Misty Fly was an… air show performer, or something? It would be cool to be able to try out her wings. And what would it feel like to be Sky? Stomping around with a long mane and a big grumpy scowl, didn’t her face muscles get tired?
Retcon pursed her lips. That seemed like a wrong thing to do.
It was a peculiar line of thought, one that would have been entirely alien and unthinkable a few days ago… maybe even repugnant? Perhaps-
She almost stumbled over her hooves as she realised what she was seeing, shaking her from her thoughts. Up ahead, just three doors away, standing in the large circular room at the end of the hallway, was a pony. One she hadn’t seen before. He was blue with a darker blue mane and tail, and he hadn’t spotted her yet.
Her mind, so far away only a moment ago, struggled to catch up. She was a changeling now, and a lot of ponies didn’t like changelings. Should she hide? Should she duck into one of the rooms she had been passing by? Would they be okay with her? She had had to hide from other ponies in Canterlot, but she hadn’t been told what to do if she met anyone new at the Institute.
The last time this had happened was with Misty Fly, and that went well, didn’t it? Surely it’ll be fine here too!
But… she was still a pegasus back then…
…
She should hide.
She glanced around. Where? Any random door? Then what, just wait? For how long?
There was motion up ahead, but it was the tang of emotion that got her attention. The blue stallion still hadn’t noticed her, but he wasn’t alone. There were two other strangers up ahead, both mares. One was talking with him. The other had stopped moving, and was looking straight at Retcon.
Time seemed to stop as the two made eye contact.
Retcon slowly lifted a forelimb and, with a very uncertain attempt at a friendly expression, waved gingerly.
There wasn’t any running and shouting yet, so that was a bonus. Retcon glanced behind her. Should I… just go? Um…
The mare at the end of the hallway had stopped in place, looking right at her. She was a cream earth pony, her mane and tail a two-toned purple and pink. She was a little too far away for her emotion to be clear, but there was definitely a slight roiling sort of sensation coming from that direction.
She seemed to mutter something to the other two ponies beside her, who stopped their conversation to turn and look down the hallway. Three sets of ears stood pointed and alert.
It felt like something heavy had been placed around the top of Retcon’s neck.
After a frosty silence, the other mare took a step forward. She was an earth pony too, pale with a berry-red mane. She paused, and then with a slight hesitation, raised a forelimb and waved gingerly back.
…Okay then.
The three earth ponies appeared to be waiting. Feeling like she was no longer able to just turn and leave, Retcon took a steadying breath and trotted up to them, her head held low.
“Uhh, hi,” she said meekly as she drew close. She was at least not drowning in their emotions, there were a few things coming her way but not as strongly as she had feared. She lifted her head a little.
“Hey,” chirped the red-maned one, her expression neutral rather than masked by a smile.
The blue stallion nodded a greeting at Retcon. “Sooo, did we get the wrong memo or something?”
Oh yeah, I’m supposed to be clueless. I guess they work here then?
Red-mane shot him a glare, but her expression shifted when she turned back. “I’m Roseluck,” she said, lifting a hoof to her chest. “This is Noteworthy and Bon Bon,” she gestured at the stallion and mare in turn.
There was a moment of silence. “Oh. I'm Retcon.” Should... Do I go instigate a hoof bump? Hm, maybe not.
The emotions were strange. “Retcon,” Roseluck repeated in a drawn-out tone, eyes narrowed.
“Uh, oh, yeah. Long story.” Retcon shrugged, but it was more jerky than nonchalant. “Didn’t know what it meant at the time. Do you three work here?”
Noteworthy seemed about to say something else. “Yeah.”
“I’m gonna go find Sky,” the one called Bon Bon piped up abruptly. She regarded Retcon with a careful look. “Nice to meet you,” she said amicably, then turned and trotted off down the other hallway.
Retcon watched after her. “You too,” she muttered, although the volume wouldn’t carry to within earshot. That was sudden.
Roseluck and Noteworthy shared a look.
“So, umm-” Retcon managed not to flinch as the attention was returned to her. “Did… did we know each other before the, uh, the memory wipe?”
“Rose did,” said Noteworthy, gesturing to the red-maned mare.
Roseluck shook her head. “We only met just the once. How come you know about the memory wipe? Didn’t it-… I mean…”
“Yeah, everything before this week is blank. I guess… I found out some stuff, so Sky told me the rest.”
“So wait,” Roseluck started, “you thought you were a pony and then found out you’re a…” She gestured up and down at her.
Retcon nodded.
“Sheesh, that can’t have been fun.”
“Wasn’t great,” Retcon affirmed dryly.
“What’s it like then? Being a changeling?” Noteworthy asked, then glanced upward, frowning into the distance. “Is that rude?”
Is it? She lifted a foreleg to inspect the holes. The two ponies followed it as well, seemingly taking interest. “It’s weird. I guess having no coat is the biggest change, everything feels different. It’s hard to explain.” She lowered her hoof. “Also hard to tell how ponies will react. But, you’ve been nice,” she added in a small voice. “Sooo, thanks.”
She tasted a momentary pleasant flavour.
“Well, thank you. It’s nice to meet you,” said Roseluck earnestly.
You met me before, apparently. “What was I like?”
“Hmm?”
Retcon blinked. “Before. Noteworthy said you met me before.”
“Oh.” Roseluck’s brow furrowed. Noteworthy turned toward her as she thought. “Kinda… distant. I guess you could say you were, mmm, difficult to get along with. Oh, not unpleasant or anything,” said added. “Just… let’s just say you’re doing a lot better than back then.”
“Huh.” She knew she wasn’t that great at understanding the nuance of interaction, and had assumed she had a lot to learn. To hear that she had improved in some way was a surprise. “Thanks,” she said sheepishly, not really sure how to respond. “I’m… I still need to get better. Especially at new people. Everyone I’ve talked with already knew who I was. Well, except in Canterlot.” There was that Guard guy. Oh, and that orb, I guess.
“You’ve been to Canterlot?” Noteworthy sounded surprised.
“Oh, yeah. That was only because of the lavastone.”
There was a jolt of alarm from the two earth ponies. “What lavastone?” Roseluck asked flintily.
Retcon’s ears fell flat. “You didn’t know?” She didn’t like how serious they had suddenly become. “Umm, there was a lavastone in Canterlot yesterday.” Was it only yesterday? Feels longer.
Noteworthy mouthed the word ‘yesterday’, and shared a glance with Roseluck. “I- We were given standby messages yesterday. I never heard anything else about it.” He shook his head. “In Canterlot, though… Even with the Institute involved, that’d make the news.”
“I think it did,” said Roseluck, eyes wide. “The newspapers this morning, there was a bit on a house fire in Canterlot, with one fatality.”
A blackened mass lay in the middle of the room, small wisps of smoke rising from it.
Retcon swallowed thickly. “Uh, yeah. That was it.”
“Jeez, what a way to go,” said Noteworthy. “I’m guessing it was contained pretty quick? The ‘stand down’ came in only a few hours later.”
“Who was the assignee on the case, do you know?” asked Roseluck.
Assignee? I don’t- Was it Sparkler, maybe? She seemed in charge of the thing. Retcon cleared her throat.“Um, might’ve been Sparkler.”
Roseluck nodded. “Makes sense. We should probably check in with Sparkler first of all. Well, it was nice to meet you, uh, Retcon.”
“Oh, yes, likewise.”
“Guess we’ll see you around,” said Noteworthy. “Do you always go around undisguised, or how does everypony know its you?”
“Um, I’m just like this right now.”
Noteworthy nodded. “Makes things easier I guess.”
The two earth ponies said their farewells and left, leaving Retcon standing in place. That was a… successful conversation, she mused. Her first meeting with newcomers while in her natural form, and it had gone well, mostly. Well enough that she felt somewhat put out by how plain it was. It was if she had forgotten something in it, that something was missing.
Conversely, the one named Bon Bon had left rather quickly, and all three already knew to expect a changeling staying in the facility. She couldn’t take this as necessarily a good indicator of how well a first meeting would work outside of the Institute.
Retcon scuffed the ground with a hoof. The hallways were now empty, besides herself. A successful conversation with ponies, in her bug form, having started with no forewarning. Not bad. She nodded absently, setting off towards her room.
Retcon pushed the papers aside and rubbed her eyes. Since she had awoken, she had spent much of the morning reading over her files Gurney had given her, seeking for some clue for how to access her magic.
Rather than list all of the spells a changeling is able to perform, the file had simplified it down to ‘transformation’ and ‘other abilities common to most unicorns’, which she supposed meant levitation. This was followed by a short list of magic that had been cast by the Queen during the Invasion that wasn’t typically shared by drones, though it was written in less-certain language.
Well, not like I ever wanted to make ‘fire portals’, whatever they are. All I need is transformation. Anything else is bonus, and for later.
She had kept reading through to the following section on changeling feeding ability. It began with much the same information Gurney had described, but the file quickly shifted into the hypothesised mechanisms of energy transfer, and Retcon was unable to follow. She didn’t recognise half the words, and the other half were words she knew but had never seen in this context.
Grumbling, she had flipped ahead. A section on the following page began with ‘Emotiphagy via Manual Single-Party Manoeuvre', at which point she had given up trying to decipher it. How come Gurney writes like this but talks normal out loud?
She instead returned to trying to find her magic by feel, but she had no idea what she was supposed to be looking for. She imagined the aura she had seen Sky and Sparkler summon but couldn’t figure out how she was supposed to create it. Even though it was magic she supposedly still possessed, she couldn’t remember feeling any sort of indication before that she had gotten close to tapping into it.
If it’s something any changeling can learn, am I supposed to learn it from another changeling? Scowling, she flipped onto her side on the bed. Where am I going to find one of those? I can’t leave if I’m stuck looking like this… and I can’t stay here.
A flash of stark teal caught her notice. Looking up, she could see a reflection of her own eyes just at the edge of the large mirror on the opposite wall, behind the desk. She stared back for a brief moment, taking in the two bright, flat-coloured orbs amidst jet black, before jumping off the bed and stepping up to the mirror.
Perhaps she would never be able to relate what she could see in the mirror to her sense of identity, even for the brief time she had been building it. It didn’t seem correct for her fangs to jut so far from her upper lip, or to be able to see right through her limbs. As she folded her ears back, a thought struck her, and she prodded the frill atop her head.
I’m bald.
For some reason that was funny. It wasn’t news to her, certainly not after the incident that had removed her pegasus form, but nonetheless it was an odd thought to put into words.
Heh, my head is shiny.
A tingling at her scalp drew her attention. She turned to the door. Somepony was coming.
She waited while the sensation built; either she was sensing a small degree of trepidation, or she was more nervous than she thought. She considered opening the door to meet the newcomer faster and bypass the knocking of the door, but that seemed… improper, somehow. Wait first.
Instead she stood by the door as the morsel of emotion drew nearer, going through the expected motions of interaction. Knock knock knock. She counted to three, then opened the door.
At first she saw a trolley directly in front of the doorway, holding nothing but a candle, standing unlit in a holder, and a small box. Then her attention was drawn to the pink unicorn standing just to one side.
“Oh, hi,” said Lemony lightly, even though her anxiety seemed to spike briefly as she spoke. “Can I come in?”
Retcon blinked, suddenly feeling flighty. She stepped back from the doorway. “Sure, yeah.”
With one forelimb, Lemony delicately pushed the trolley into the room. It was similar to the one she used for her books, but only carrying a candle in holder, and a very small box with a picture on the top. She stopped in the middle of the room.
As Retcon shut the door, she noticed the bandage that had been around Lemony’s neck had gone. Instead, there was now a small strip of dressing adhesed to her left side collarbone.
Should I… No, I’d only annoy her if I brought it up every time.
Lemony awkwardly cleared her throat. “So Gurney says you can’t access your magic yet?” At Retcon’s nod, Lemony gestured vaguely at the trolley. “D’you mind if I try something?”
“Oh, sure,” she replied uncertainly.
“Right, umm.” Lemony brushed her mane out of her eyes with a hoof. “So, do you know what a candle is?”
“Yes.” She didn’t remember having seen a candle, but it appeared to be some of the knowledge she retained from before.
“Okay. Watch this.” Lemony picked up the box. Rather than having a lid at the top, she pushed the box lengthways, revealing a collection of tiny sticks within the drawer. Lemony picked one out with her teeth and, shutting the box with a hoof, quickly scraped the stick against the side of the box twice. On the second strike, the end of the stick caught fire. Going cross-eyed, she carefully manoeuvred the flame over the candle. Once the wick caught, she shook her head rapidly to put the stick out.
Even though this was the first one she remembered seeing, Retcon hadn’t considered a candle to be noteworthy. However, seeing it now in person, there was something particularly absorbing about watching the little flame flicker and dance.
Lemony was watching it too. She sat beside the trolley, and gestured at Retcon. “Come and have a look.”
Frowning lightly, Retcon settled down adjacent to the unicorn, close to the candle. She watched it, the little light leaving trails in her vision. She wasn’t quite sure what she was looking for.
The twisted emotion in the room faded into the background.
“You’ve seen unicorns casting magic, haven’t you,” said Lemony.
Do I keep watching? “Yep,” Retcon replied, eye on the candle as the wax at the top began to shine. Sky and Sparkler did magic. An aura forms around the horn.
“Unicorn magic is… it’s like electricity, in some ways. It’s a different form of energy, but the way that it feels…” There was a pause. “Changeling magic isn’t like that. It doesn’t spitzensparken, as the griffons say. …It’s more like fire. Don’t ask me why, I’m no expert on magical theory, but…” The wax started to pool around the wick. “When a unicorn channels their magic, you’ve felt the air hum and spark near it, right?”
Retcon cast a sideways look. “Faintly.”
“When a changeling summons a spellform,” began Lemony slowly, emotions resurfacing, “their aura manifests as green flame. It’s not like a restrained torrent, waiting to be given form, like unicorn magic. It’s… It flows, and breathes. It’s different. … I thought I should bring that up.”
Green flame…
“Gurney doesn’t know? He was talking about electricity.”
Lemony smirked. “I don’t think he can appreciate the difference. He’s never cast a spell in his life.”
Hmm…
Shifting her weight to one side, Retcon a forelimb and held it tentatively towards the candle. The dull chitin almost shined as she touched the light. Lemony gasped quietly beside her. The flame was hot, so she gently twisted her hoof before it got uncomfortable. She held it there thoughtfully for a moment, but the heat became too much when it ran through one of the holes in her leg, and she quickly retracted it.
The other mare seemed to lean closer as she examined her foreleg. There was a blackened band around her jet fetlock, near indistinguishable but for the lustreless surface.
“Did that hurt?” Lemony asked quietly.
“…Not much.”
“Hm, might be your… chitin?” There was a slight reduction of tension. “The green fire doesn’t burn that hot, it’s a magic flame that burns into magic energy, but still.”
Retcon’s eyes were still on the candle while Lemony spoke. It flickered and danced, but gently. Nothing like the shifting, energetic, sparkling aura of the unicorns. Was this what she was supposed to see? And the warmth, it was a very… rounded sort of feeling.
She shivered as she played back the sensations of the candle heat moving through her leg.
It flows, and breathes.
She inhaled, holding the air in her lungs, or whatever she had now.
…
…
…
…and exhaled.
She felt Lemony’s eyes to her side, but tried to ignore her.
In…
What is the trigger? What is the spark?
…
It’s magic, it’s not the same thing as fire. It can’t be directly analogous. Maybe thinking too literally was wrong. But…
…out.
…
In…
…
…
If it’s more like a flame than unicorn magic, maybe… maybe she shouldn’t try to force the magic
…out.
…
What if it doesn’t come from within. What if she’s just the spark.
What would that feel like…
…
In…
…
She felt different. Though that may have been from Lemony, who jolted upright beside her. There were mixed feelings, though predominantly… good.
She turned to face the unicorn, causing shadows cast by a gentle green light to shift.
“Uhh…”
Lemony had both forehooves over her mouth, eyes reflecting green. “You did it,” she said quietly.
Looking cross-eyed upwards, Retcon could make out a flickering green light playing about her horn, just out of her vision. It was warm, nicely so.
Oh. She blinked. A blanket seemed to gradually settle over her heart as the realisation set in. She glanced at Lemony, unsure how to react. “Um, I think I got it,” she muttered meekly.
After a moment, Lemony asked, “You feel okay?”
I can do magic. Elated, Retcon nodded, her wings fluttering. She didn’t trust herself to talk.
With a lapse of focus, the gentle heat around her horn vanished. She once more imagined breathing in with her mind and striking a spark across her horn, and the flame returned.
“Wait here, I’ll get Gurney!” Lemony jumped to her hooves and dashed for the door.
The door closed. “Okay.” Her mind was reeling.
I can do magic. I can actually do magic. Like an actual changeling. Just like they said. I’ll be able to change. I can be me again. I can go back to how I was.
Her heart leaped. I can leave. I can change and I can leave.
She found herself pacing, her legs jittery and her wings restless.
Alright, she thought, making herself stand still. How does this work…
Once more lighting her horn, she turned to the trolley and focused on the box of sticks. With the magic now in her grasp, the rest was easier than she expected. By concentrating on extending her will to the box, a small wreath of green flames began to lick at the sides, though it didn’t appear to damage the box. Frowning, she willed it to move, delicately lifting it up from the trolley and into the air in front of her. Given how tough it had been to figure out how to activate her magic, the finer control of levitation came rather naturally. She tilted her head slightly, watching as the box began to slowly rotate in the air, the sticks within rattling as it span.
…This is awesome…
She jumped when the door swung open. The flames dissipated, and the box dropped unceremoniously to the ground.
Gurney stood in the doorway, some papers under a wing. “You found your magic!” the griffon exclaimed, feeling oddly empty without the accompanying emotion. Lemony appeared to hang back somewhere behind him.
“Uh-huh,” Retcon nodded enthusiastically. With a moment’s concentration, she once more wreathed her horn in the magic flame. “I did it!”
“That’s great! Can you shape it into a spellform?”
Into a... “Oh! Watch.” Turning to the trolley, she squinted at the box and focused. With very little effort, she brought the box up into the air once again. “See?” she said gleefully.
“You learned that really fast.”
“It came easy, now I found my magic.” She gently lowered the box back down, letting it settle before releasing the magic hold. “It’s like instinct inside my head already, like you said!”
Gurney pulled the papers from under his wing with a claw. “You want to try transformation then?”
Retcon snapped to attention smartly and nodded. I will not fail.
Gurney quirked a brow. “So this part should also be easy, but, uhh... Well let’s just try it. You ready?”
“Ready.” No question.
“Right. Summon your magic.”
She did.
He paused, and checked the paper. “Actually, let’s go out of order. Push that aura, that magic fire, through your... the core of your being. These are your words, not mine,” he interrupted, “so... go by instinct. What does that mean to you?”
Retcon frowned. I was gonna ask, but... She imagined the grasp of the magic aura she had been able to extend over the box of sticks. Then, she imagined grasping at the aura itself as it played around her forehead. Steeling herself, she then tried to pull it down through the centre of her body.
“Yah!” With an unexpected jerk that almost caught her off-balance, the chaotic warmth of the green flames flashed over her, blinding her momentarily. Blinking frantically, she looked down at herself, watching the last flickering embers burnt out if existence around her black legs.
She glanced back up at Gurney, her blank teal eyes wide with lingering alarm. “Phwoah.”
The griffon was grinning madly. “That’s it exactly! Now, try it again, but this time, hold a vision in your head of the form you want to take. Make it as detailed as you can. Then when you’re ready, ‘hold that vision close to your being’, and do that again.”
“Okay...” Um, green... and wings. Oh, gold eyes. Like this?
Imagining how she used to be, she yanked the magic through herself again, this time prepared for the jolt. Blinking the lights from her eyes...
“Take your time, you’re nearly there,” encouraged Gurney.
Hmm, didn’t work, that wasn’t it. What did I... What if I try to hold the vision in the magic...
*Fwoosh!*
“Oh.” Gurney sounded mildly surprised. “That’s neat.” There was some movement behind him as Lemony peeked her head around cautiously.
I don’t feel different...
Retcon lifted a forelimb up. It was still a chitinous changeling leg, and it still had the same holes in it, but it had changed colour, now sporting an olive shade of green. “Huh. That’s not right.”
“Its a step in the right direction, you’re getting there.”
What is it then, she wondered. What have I missed... I did the right thing with holding the vision, but...
...The vision was too vague. Needs more details.
...
Oh no. Can I even- She shook her head. No, don’t think like that. I can build toward it, one step at a time. I can do this now. I can get there. I can...
Her eyes were drawn to the doorway as she released the magic.
*Fwoosh!*
The room fell silent. Gurney had frozen in place, staring at her.
Retcon blinked, brushing her yellow and orange mane out of her face with a pink hoof.
…Oops…
She didn’t dare look down, instead watching for the reaction as she wilted on the spot.
She didn’t have to wait long. Lemony stepped gingerly past the griffon, eyes wide. “…Huh,” she eventually stated, lifting a hoof to brush aside her own mane. “Tell you what, that’s not half bad.”
“I’m-… I don’t know why I-” Retcon stammered in Lemony’s voice. She could taste the tang of revulsion that was almost lost in the background. She sighed in exasperation, catching herself before she started rambling.
She was interrupted as Lemony pulled her into a sudden hug. Shocked, Retcon hung limply in the embrace. Lemony gave a snort of a laugh, and pulled back sheepishly. “Alright, yeah, definitely uncanny. How come you… wound up like this?”
Retcon shrugged, but was saved from responding by Gurney clearing his throat. “Changelings find mimicry easier,” he said. “It’s possible to invent a new form out of nothing, but copying another pony sounds almost instinctual.”
Retcon nodded mutely. Sounds about right.
“Well, look how far you’ve come!” Lemony said brightly.
“I guess,” Retcon acknowledged, allowing herself a small smile, one which Lemony returned before starting to adjust her own mane with a hoof. There was a warmth in Retcon’s chest that had started at some point, she noted with a degree of guilt, but glancing at Gurney, she wasn’t sure she should say anything.
She drew herself up a little. “Guess I just need to keep trying.” She dispelled the disguise, feeling the warmth flicker like the long-forgotten candle. “I’ll figure it out eventually and get back to normal,” she said, her voice regaining its flittering quality.
Gurney seemed less tense. “I… I actually might be able to help with that.” Returning to his papers, he removed the bottom sheet, looking at it in thought. “I, uh… You might, I dunno, find this useful? Worth a shot, anyway.”
He held out the sheet to her, which she took gently in her hooves.
It was her. Three charcoal sketches of her as a pegasus. Two headshots and a full-body picture, all in different reserved poses and at different angles. Her breath caught in her throat at how effortlessly elegant they looked.
Lemony have a stifled gasp over her shoulder. “Oh my goodness, these are incredible.”
“Oh, ah, thanks,” Gurney mumbled, scratching the back of his neck. “Are… you okay, Retcon?”
Glancing up at the griffon, she nodded. “What is this?” She asked quietly.
“Well, ahh… You saw before, I did the sketches of you in your- this form? I kinda like doing life drawings, I usually do sketches of all the magical creatures that come through the Institute. It’s good for paperwork, since, y’know, no cameras allowed on site.” He gestured at the paper. “I asked old you if you’d mind posing in your chosen form for the file. I was going over the papers and thought, well, maybe it’s close enough to work from?”
Retcon looked back down at the sketches. The portraits were monochrome, but in her mind's eye she saw olive, forest green and gold projected onto the images. There were embellishments, perhaps from the griffon’s art style; she didn’t recall her mane being quite as long or spiky. But when she looked into the faces on the page, she saw herself. There was no question.
As she looked back up at Gurney, her throat closing up as she held the sheet delicately to her chest, she felt somewhat glad she didn’t have any tear ducts.
dl fe gd bg gc b◿ gd gb gi b◿ gd fh fi gc b◿ fa fg fa fi fn ck b◿ gg fh fe gb fe b◿ fi gc b◿ gd fh fe b◿ gb fe fa fl b◿ e◿ fl ge fm gc fh fi fn fe co
She could hear the voices down the hallway long before she could see anyone. As the countless identical doors that flanked her rolled past her peripheral vision while she walked, she did her best to keep her nerves in check.
When Lemony had left for home, Gurney had invited Retcon to a ‘social’ thing, where there would be many people at the same place doing things like talking to one another. She couldn’t envision the purported enjoyment that there was to be had, but had eventually agreed. Apparently “pizza dinner” was a common event amongst the employees of the Institute.
The voices died down rather abruptly as she turned the corner into the large open room. Several ponies (and one griffon) were all seated around the big table, which was piled with ‘Jubilee Pizza’ boxes. Thankfully she couldn’t see anyone she hadn’t met before, but she still almost tripped as all eyes turned on her.
Shower raised a glass of fruit juice. “Heyyy, Retcon’s back!” she cheered boisterously.
Retcon ducked her head, her furred ears flat against her forest-green mane, as a chorus of greetings went up from around the table. Sampling the air, she was almost overwhelmed by the positive emotions that were directed at her, though there was some small degree of trepidation mixed in from the three ponies she had met that morning. Most of it appeared to be coming from the cream-coated one, Bon Bon, who despite glancing at her co-workers seemed to be putting on a cordial face.
Retcon accepted a nearby cushion with Shower on her left, and Sparkler a few seats over to her right. Seated at uneven intervals around the huge table were Roseluck, Bon Bon, Gurney, Noteworthy and Misty Fly. “Uhh, hi, everyone,” she piped up, feeling she should speak. It was good to have her old voice back.
A wave of responses met her, with Misty Fly raising a wing in greeting.
“Glad to see you got your magic back,” said Sparkler, smiling.
Retcon glanced down at herself; the form of an olive-coated pegasus. It had taken a few tries to get the golden eyes right, and her mane and tail were slightly too neat the first few times. She had settled on making them slightly longer and spikier than before, and she was once more wearing her own face again; she couldn’t be happier. “Thanks,” she replied, grinning.
“This is the one I was telling you about,” Sparkler announced to the three earth ponies excitedly. “If it wasn’t for her, we’d still in Canterlot scratching our heads about how to move a lavastone!”
Retcon blushed as the spotlight returned to her.
“You said you’d been to Canterlot but you kinda downplayed that part,” said Noteworthy, amused.
“What do you mean, she got her magic back?” Roseluck asked though a slice of pizza, looking confused.
“Retcon here didn’t know how to transform,” Sparkler explained. “She’s been stuck here without a disguise since then.”
“Woah,” said Roseluck, wide-eyed.
“Okay, can we talk about something else?” Retcon interrupted, ears burning.
“Aww, what, you shy?” said Misty Fly in a teasing tone.
“Noo!” Well… yeah. A bit. “I can taste your feelings, remember, and there’s a lot of it right now,” she muttered.
The lull wasn’t anywhere near as bad as Retcon had feared, as Roseluck gasped almost immediately. “Oh my gosh! Are you getting food from us?”
Retcon shrunk. “Um, sometimes?”
“Ooh, what about now? Try me!”
“Uhh…” Not much. “I don’t really wanna say…” she said, avoiding eye contact.
“Why not?” Gurney asked, surfacing from a box of pizza.
Retcon shrugged. “…I dunno, it’s… kinda hard to explain. I just don’t like talking about it I guess.”
“What does it feel like?” Bon Bon asked carefully. “For the pony, I mean.” Her expression showed a degree of interest, but her emotions were more tumultuous.
“Well, you shouldn’t feel anything. You just kinda feel tired after a while.” Shower was reaching for a box on the table, so she shot a glance to Misty Fly instead. “That about right?”
“Huh?” Misty Fly blinked owlishly.
“Oh.” Retcon winced. “Uhh… never mind…”
Shower burst out laughing. “Welcome to the club!” she shot at the other pegasus.
Roseluck snickered. “Hey, remember how hard it was to get energy in her back when we first got her?”
Amongst the amused agreement around the table, Bon Bon silently returned to her food.
“Did anypony else manage it or was it just Lemony?” asked Noteworthy.
“Just Lemony,” Gurney affirmed.
Shower nudged Retcon. “Hey, you don’t want pineapple or anything do you?” she asked quietly.
“…No?”
“Good.” The pegasus pushed a box in front of her. “Try that, it’s good.”
Retcon smiled and nodded in thanks. Opening the box revealed a whole pizza of her own, though this one had none of the burnt-looking mushrooms.
“Where is Lemony?” Sparkler asked. “I thought she was here earlier?”
“Gone home,” said Gurney. “You know she’s not one for socialising.”
Retcon nodded absently. Probably tired. She was really happy earlier. That was probably me. I need to be more careful.
Misty Fly snorted. “Yeah, she’s always been a bit of a shy one.”
“Heh, maybe that’s why she got along with Retcon,” suggested Gurney. “They’re like kindred spirits.”
In response to the laughter around the table, Retcon crossed her forelegs on the table and lowered her chin on top, though she couldn’t help but smiling lightly.
“Hey, so you can transform now, right?” Misty Fly was leaning forward with interest. “Could you show us? Well, I mean, if you’d like?”
“Yeah,” she replied cautiously. It took me so long to- …Eh, whatever. I figured it out, I can do it again, now I know what I’m doing. It’s practise. She lifted her head up. “I could give it a go?”
Roseluck waved. “Ooh! Ooh!”
Retcon paused to focus, taking in the earth pony’s colours and shape. Pale coat, eyes green, mane and tail raspberry and pink… but shape is a little bit like mine. As with Lemony, it appeared that copying a form she could see was a lot easier to achieve, as after only a few seconds she yanked her magic through herself, and a familiar flash of vivid green flame washed over her, shifting her form. It wasn’t as drastic as between changeling and pegasus, but immediately her back felt significantly lighter.
The emotions in the room became somewhat more vibrant. Roseluck stared at her, her mouth agape. Bon Bon was looking as well. Gurney appeared to be stifling a laugh.
Noteworthy broke the silence. “Gotta say, that’s impressive.”
Roseluck nodded mutely, then, frowning, moved her hoof up to her mane. “That’s really weird, seeing my mane backwards.” Retcon glanced up at her bangs and brushed them to one side as well, causing Roseluck to laugh. “Don’t do that! It’s like looking at a mirror!”
Retcon lowered her hoof. “Oh, sorry,” she said in Roseluck’s voice.
Shower started laughing loudly, causing most of the table to join in. Roseluck’s face had turned a shade redder even as she giggled. Retcon couldn’t help but chuckle along as Shower gave her a light shove with a wing.
Their mirth gradually petered out as the sound of hoofsteps drew closer. Turning, she saw Sky approaching down the other hallway. Her resting scowl was in place seemingly as usual, though her emotions were still relatively muted. Her eyes passed over Retcon briefly, but didn’t linger. Stepping up to the table, a pizza box near the centre of the pile began to glow in her meadow-green aura, and levitated over to her. Without a word, she turned to leave again.
“Hey! Where do you think you’re going?” demanded Shower, stifling a grin.
Sky stopped, and faced the pegasus. “My office.”
“No you’re not, you’re eating with us.” She gestured to the empty seats around the table.
“Yeah, sit with us for once!” said Misty Fly enthusiastically. “We’ve got Retcon here. Come on, just for today.”
Sky’s scowl deepened slightly as more beckons came from the table. With a stifled huff, she set her box back down and took a cushion between Sparkler and Misty Fly. A wave of cheers rose up as she sat. Sparkler thumped her on the withers in welcome. Sky held the sides of her pizza box between her forelimbs, staring down at the lid with a bewildered look.
The others had resumed talking, but Retcon tuned them out. Concentrating, she formed the mental image of her pegasus form, and in a flash of green shifted once more. She suppressed a self-satisfied grin as the very familiar weight settled once more against her back. There was a brief pause as she attracted a few glances, but she was otherwise ignored.
Turning to one side, she poked Shower to get her attention, the other pegasus leaning in closer. “Do I look okay?” she asked in a whisper.
Shower looked confused for a moment, before giving her a once-over. “Yeah, you’re good,” she responded in an undertone.
“Alright, thanks.”
“Wait… I think you’ve still got Rose’s eyes.”
The eyes again. “Thanks. I’ll fix them later.”
Shower inclined her head, smiling faintly.
Retcon returned her attention to the table. Beside her, Sparkler was talking animatedly, telling some story or other with excited gusto. Roseluck would jump in with additional comments, helping build to the punchline. Noteworthy and Misty Fly listened rapt, laughing at every development in the tale. Gurney propped his chin up on a claw, watching the listeners’ reactions with content patience. The ghost of a smile graced Bon Bon’s face at the loud display. And even though her shoulders were hunched as she focused on her food, Sky’s ears were upright and alert.
Retcon shifted her wings, feeling like a warm blanket against her back. This is what it feels to belong.
“This is your secrecy agreement,” said Sky, placing some papers on the desk between them. “Take it with you, read it, sign it.”
Retcon flipped open the stack, frowning at the five pages of solid text.
“"Confidential Information" means any information disclosed by either party to the other party, either directly or indirectly, in writing, orally or by inspection of tangible objects, including without limitation documents, prototypes…”
“Do I have to read this?” she asked, overwhelmed.
Sky’s expression didn’t change. “You should. Don’t sign things unless you understand what you’re signing.”
Retcon nodded slowly, glancing back down at the impenetrable document. ‘Sign’ it? Must be a weird pony thing I need to learn. Just go with it I guess.
“Ask one of the others to go through it with you if you need. As a précis, this is your agreement to maintain the Institute’s secrecy. The existence of the R.I.I is a state secret. You will be required to keep it. Not many outsiders are privy, and it will stay this way. Understood?”
“Right.” Retcon nodded with more certainty. “I can do that. …What should I do if somepony asks where I’m from?”
Sky shrugged. “I don’t care. As long as you don’t speak of us, you can say what you like.” She paused for a moment, glancing to one side. “As I said before, I recommend you don’t mention your heritage. However you frame it is your choice.”
“Okay…” Hmm, a pegasus who hit their head, maybe?
Sky levitated another stack of papers onto the pile. “You don’t need to read these,” she said as Retcon’s face paled. “These are your legal documents. I’m not aware of a precedent for this sort of thing, so we have made you a ward of the state. It doesn’t mention that you are a changeling, and any digging will lead to the Institute, so these papers are all above board and sanctioned by the Crown. Shower has filled these out for you, either she or I will be contacted in the eventuality that your paperwork is traced or if you get yourself into trouble.” She gave a half-lidded look. “Don’t get yourself into trouble.”
Retcon gulped. “I won’t.”
“There is more you need to learn about pony society, however with your legal standing now in place, you may do better to learn as you experience, and ask your host should you need clarity.”
“Host?”
Sky’s scowl lightened as she drew a lengthy breath. “We have found for you a residence. Small rural town, and a few Institute members live locally. I believe I mentioned the place. Problem is, the residency will not be empty until the next waning- until next month. If this location is agreeable to you, you may either stay here as you have done until the building is available, or you can leave sooner, perhaps within the next few days, and stay as a guest in the house of one of our agents.”
Retcon’s eyes widened. “Wha- Who?”
“I will let you know as soon as they agree,” Sky said impassively.
If it’s… No, I think Lemony said she lives in Canterlot, and Canterlot isn’t a small town. She frowned. But then who? Shower? Not Sky I hope, sounds like it’s not.
“Would that be preferable?”
“To leave sooner?” asked Retcon. She was almost too nervous to take it. “Yes.”
“Good, I thought you might.” Sky tapped the pile of papers with the side of a levitating pencil. “You’ll be granted a stipend from the Crown for one year from your egress. This will allow you to pay your way until you have secured employment. I’ve also included a standard bounty for your assistance in Canterlot. You’re welcome.”
“Right.” Retcon blinked. I think- That’s money, right? I think I know how that works.
“And on that note,” Sky lifted a sheet of paper from within a file to her side.
There was a whisper of a smokier emotion, like the smell of a candle.
Sky drew her head up, her stormy eyes alive, as she passed the paper over to her. “For your consideration.”
Retcon glanced at it, confused. It was another form. “What’s this?”
“Job application,” the unicorn responded. “We could use someone of your talents. Think about it, at least.”
“To… To work here?” Retcon asks, staring at the paper.
Sky shrugged and sniffed. The emotion was gone. “One final thing; while the nature of your species is unfortunate, it is not immoral to ensure your own survival. You will be going out into our world, and you won’t find volunteers the way we were able to arrange here.” Her deep green eyes appeared to glow. “Live as you may, but do so with consideration. Take what you need, and repay what you can. One thing I have learnt in my many years is that a herd species may be individually placid and adverse to confrontation, but if you wrong them you will find their retribution irresistible. I bid you, take care.”
After leaving Sky’s office, Retcon had visited the consciousness in the orb and updated it on the more recent developments. She enjoyed talking with the orb, certainly more so than she liked talking with Sky. It felt like less of a duel compared to talking with most other ponies. She felt she could be herself more easily. As she left, she bid the consciousness a fond farewell in case they never spoke again, unsure of when she might leave.
It was as she closed the great metal door behind her that the next metal door along swung open. Out stepped Gurney, an empty bucket looped over one wing, and a distant look on his face.
He spotted her as he closed the door behind him. “Oh, hey. Sky called you?”
“Just been,” she replied. “I got lots of papers.” She gestured to the satchel Gurney had given her.
“Ah.” He paused, appearing uncertain. “Yeah…”
“You okay?”
“Hmm? Oh, yeah. It’s just, uhh…” He scratched the back of his neck. “The kelpie wants to talk to you.”
Retcon blinked. “Huh?”
He gestured with his free wing back towards the door. “The kelpie, she…” Trailing off, he sighed. “I dunno.”
“What is it?”
Gurney looked her right in the eye. “You haven’t spoken with her before, have you?”
Retcon shook her head mutely.
The griffon massaged his brow with a claw, grunting in acknowledgement.
“…Why, what’s happened?”
“She… she said she wants to talk with the changeling.”
Retcon gave the door behind him a wary side glance. How…
“I asked what she meant,” continued Gurney, “and she described how you look now.”
“I-I… Um, okay, I looked through the window once, and she saw me looking, but that was it! I haven’t been back since. How does she know?”
“I dunno, maybe some kind of kelpie-vision.” Gurney tapped a talon roughly against the ground. “First I’ve heard of it. We’ve had her here for, what… four years now? We captured her from a stream in Whitetail Woods after she got her teeth into two ponies.”
“What should… Should I go talk?” she asked in a small voice.
Gurney scowled off into the distance. “…No. No I don’t think so. Schlechte Idee.” After a moment, he shook his head and addressed Retcon. “Stay here. I’ll be right back. Do not open the viewing hatch, alright?”
She nodded. “Understood.”
“Alright.” He nodded to himself, and started off down the hallway.
“Oh, hi Retcon!” called Sparkler, shaking the changeling from her thoughts. Glancing up, the unicorn was trotting alongside Gurney, who had divested himself of the bucket. She shot him a side glance. “So what’s this about?”
Gurney’s brow was furrowed. He took a moment to respond. “How quickly can you cast a teleportation spell?”
Sparkler’s eyes narrowed. “Why?” she asked, looking at Retcon.
The griffon sighed. “Because… I want to see if it’s feasible to safely allow Retcon here to talk with the kelpie.”
“You what!?” Sparkler’s eyes flashed dangerously.
Retcon raised a forelimb into the air. “Uhh, I didn’t agree to this yet.”
“Gurney, what the heck are you thinking?”
“Alright! Alright, I get it!” he said, gesturing placatingly with his claws. “Retcon’s not doing anything if she doesn’t want to.” He shot her a glance. “I’m sorry if I put you on the spot.” Back to Sparkler. “I’m just asking to see if it’s possible first.”
Sparkler raised a sharp eyebrow. “Explain.”
“Look… The kelpie wants to speak with Retcon. Yeah, I know,” he quickly added in response to the unicorn’s expression. “Point is she’s been getting increasingly difficult recently, and… she asked for a trade. If we let her speak with Retcon, somehow she knows she’s a changeling, then she’ll tell us where we can find the Unseelie Court.”
Sparkler’s expression slackened. “Oh.”
Retcon glanced between them. “What’s that?”
“Well…” Sparkler took a breath to collect herself. “Of the fae beings, which are creatures of wilder magic, they can generally be categorised into the Seelie Court, who are generally more kind-hearted, if mischievous and still potentially dangerous; and the Unseelie Court, creatures of malice.” She rubbed the side of her nose. “This isn’t really common knowledge, it’s a subject the Institute is interested in investigating. The ‘Courts’ themselves are allegedly the gathering places of these co-aligned creatures. This is distinct from unaligned fae such as the aes sídhe, who are more morally ambiguous.”
Retcon looked at Gurney.
“The Unseelie are mean fairies,” he said.
“And the kelpies are mean fairies?” Retcon asked.
“Basically.”
“Okay. And if you can find the Court?”
“We can tell the mean fairies to knock it off.”
Sparkler grumbled under her breath.
“Hmm.” I just have to talk with her? “Sparkler?”
The unicorn nodded absently. “…Yes. I can teleport you out of there if little miss bitey attacks. With the spell prepared before you go in, I’ll drain my mana for as long as I hold it so please don’t be too long, but… I’ll be able to retrieve you within a second.” She blinked, annoyed. “Oh listen to me, volunteering you to go.”
“This ‘Court’ information is important, right? And, I’ll be safe?”
“I know I started this, but you don’t have to go,” Gurney said gently.
“I know, I get it.” She turned towards the door. “It’s just… why does she… I want to know what she has to say, I guess. And if… Will she really say if I talk with her?”
The others nodded. “The Unseelie can’t lie,” said Gurney. “It’s part of the folklore, they’re dealmakers. For as long as we’ve had her here, she’s has never once been able to lie. It’s one of the first things I tested for after solving her diet to see if it’s true. No matter how many times I asked, she always called the banana a banana.” He shook his head lightly. “I suppose it could be a trick, it’s just… I don’t think she’s bright enough to arrange that.”
“Alright.” Retcon hummed to herself. “What do you think?”
Sparkler and Gurney shot each other a glance. The unicorn rubbed the back of her neck. “Umm, well…”
“Do you think it’ll work?”
“…Yes,” Sparkler eventually said. “Yes. You go in, you talk. If you want out, or if the kelpie gets aggressive, I can teleport you out immediately. I can watch through the hatch, I’ll listen in with a spell too, and you can raise a wing to say you want to leave. …Yes, I think it’d work.”
Retcon nodded absently. With a flash of green flames around her forehead where her horn should be, she carefully lifted her satchel over her head. “Could one of you hold this?”
Retcon ran the plan through her head one more time; she would go into the room with the kelpie and try to talk with it. The door would be locked shut behind her if the kelpie didn’t immediately attack. With Sparkler and Gurney watching through the viewing hatch, Retcon could then signal them when she wanted to be teleported out, assuming of course the kelpie didn’t get aggressive.
It was a good plan. How could it go wrong?
Sparkler had posited one suggestion; that unicorn teleportation magic might not work on changelings. After a quick test in the hallway, this concern was determined to be unfounded, but the thought that an oversight as simple as that could occur rankled with Retcon.
“How likely is she to attack?” she asked.
“It’s hard to say,” Gurney said after a moment. “She usually talks with ponies first before attacking, though not always. To be frank she’s pretty upfront about her intentions. How did she react when she saw you last?”
“…She waved at me?”
“Hmm. That’s a bit weird.”
“Does she attack you when you go in?”
Gurney chuckled. “She won’t dare.”
“Why not?”
Raising a brow, the griffon lifted a claw and extended his talons. “Bird beats fish.”
After retreading the plan one last time, Sparkler lit her horn to ready the spell. Gurney checked the viewing hatch and unlocked the door. Steeling herself, Retcon stepped inside.
The room was made of the same impossibly flat rock she had seen around the Institute, ‘concrete’ she had been told. Set into the floor was a large pool of water. Small dots of light shone beneath the surface, highlighting various dark shapes that she couldn’t quite discern.
She glanced over her shoulder as the door clanked shut. The faint violet light through the viewing hatch indicated Sparkler was watching.
Retcon released the breath she was holding, and gingerly stepped closer to the pool, stopping several paces short. She didn’t want to get any closer.
The surface of the water was relatively still. Invitingly still.
“Hello?” she called out, her voice reverberating around the flat room.
A ripple played across the pool near the corner, spreading out across the surface from there. A distorted shadow moved just beneath, rising to meet it.
The top of a head emerged slowly from the water. It had the form of a pony, a sea-green coat with a long, shiny and very dark teal mane, and narrowed icy eyes.
The breath caught in Retcon’s throat. She stood her ground, keeping her wings under control.
After a moment, those terrible eyes widened. The kelpie vanished under the water, followed by the flick of a fish tail as it retreated.
Retcon’s heart pounded in her ears.
The water exploded at the edge of the pool closest to her. She yelped, jumping back as she was hit by the splash. Blinking furiously, she could make out the shape of the kelpie at the poolside.
Propping itself up by two equine forelegs, it looked like a regular pony from the top down to the middle of the barrel, below which it’s coat gave way to the lower half of a fish, with scales of sea-green. Two dorsal fins were visible fluttering around it’s scaly flanks as the kelpie lifted itself partway out of the pool, but the rest of the tail was submerged.
A light violet aura sparked around Retcon. Without taking her eyes off the kelpie, she raised a forelimb up by her side. Wait.
“Changie!” the kelpie called, revealing her vicious teeth. “You came to see me!”
Retcon lowered her forelimb. After a moment, the aura around her sparked out.
“Yes,” she replied carefully. “You wanted to talk?”
“Yes! Yes! Talkie chit-chat!” The kelpie seemed to bounce in place by the poolside. “Come in and swim!”
“Right… What’s your name?” she asked, trying to be diplomatic.
“Kelpie is kelpie. Changie is changie. Easy peasy.”
Umm, no name? “Well, my name is Retcon.”
“Reh-tuh-con?” The kelpie blew a raspberry. “Sure youse not gunna swim? It’s warm, air always cold.” The tip of her fish tail flicked across the surface of the water.
“I’m good, thanks.” Bet it’s a trap. I’m not trusting something with teeth like that. “Gurney said you wanted to make a deal, right? We talk, and you tell Gurney where the… the Unseelie Court is.”
The kelpie pulled a face. “Yes, I said.”
“So we have a deal? You’ll tell him?”
“Yes, yes, I said.” She put a forehoof to her chest. “Promises.”
“Alright then.” That’s the formalities, I guess. “What did you want to talk about?
The kelpie cocked her head. “About?”
Retcon tried to keep her expression neutral. “Yes, what about? What do you want?”
“Want? Oh, want to speak with changie!” The kelpie’s wicked teeth flashed as she grinned. “I see you around with the ponies, always a pony.” She gasped. “Are you being secret?”
“Am I-” Retcon stopped herself from taking a full step back. “No, I’m not being secret. I just like this form. The others know I’m a changeling.”
“They know?” The kelpie tilted her head the other way. “I don’t get.”
She’s really hard to talk to.…I wasn’t like this, was I?
“Yes, the ponies here know what I am.”
“That’s not how it works.” The kelpie sank further into the water. “Ponies shouldn’t know. Is that why you’re here? Did you get catched?”
Where is this going? “No, I… I talked with the ponies. We just talked.” Enough of me. “How did you end up here?”
The kelpie’s expression brightened. “I found little river through trees I did! It went a long ways, away from mean beasties. And then I found ponies. Very big and tasty. Better than rabbits and chirpie birds, easier to catch too.” She pouted. “Only got two before loads of ponies and land-birdie showed up. They put me to nap and I wakes up here. I get out though, one day, just you watch ‘cos I will!”
She had been told the kelpie was carnivorous, but the glee with which it spoke of eating sapient beings made Retcon’s skin crawl and her stomach churn. “You’re planning on escaping? How?”
“Dunno. I watches though. I find a way. Smart kelpie, see.” The kelpie bonked herself on the side of the head with a hoof. “You must watches too, youse outside! You can get us out maybe! Ooh, I show you in the trees where the ponies goes! We can be super team, have ourselves food forever!”
It took every ounce of her concentration not to broadcast her thoughts with her expression. “I… don’t think I can do that.”
“Aww,” the kelpie pouted again.
“Look, that all sounds… nice, but…” Retcon exhaled deeply. Here’s where it could go wrong, but I don’t see why I should lie. “I can’t get you out. The others out there,” she gestured with a forelimb, “they’re my friends.”
“Ponies… friends…” The kelpie mulled over the words. “But I’m your friend too?”
Retcon blanched. “Um, yeah?”
“But then… friend also with ponies.” She struck the water with her forelegs, annoyed. “I don’t get! The ponies put me in here! Not friends!”
“They put you in here because you ate two of them!”
“Kelpies eat ponies, is the way of the things.” The kelpie sank until just her head was above the water. “If ponies don’t wanna be eaten, they should stay away.”
“Didn’t you follow the river as close as you could to a pony town to find more ponies to eat?”
The kelpie pulled a face and looked away. “Might’ve,” she said glibly.
“Aren’t there other things you can eat?” Retcon lowered her tone of voice, trying a more friendly approach. “Fish and stuff? They feed you here, you don’t have to eat ponies.”
“Just like you, right?” the kelpie snarled abruptly. “‘Cos you must be getting all your love from fish too.”
Retcon felt the blood drain from her face.
“Look at you,” the kelpie gestured, spitting. “Youse fat with love. Fat and greasy! Where you gettin’ all that from, huh? You being picky and choosey? You asking food nicely? No! You take from the pony ‘cos you hungry, like alls the changies do!” She drifted right up close to the edge of the pool. “You drains the life from ponies like all changies does, so you don’t says what kelpie can eat.”
Retcons’s eyes were wide, pupils as pinpricks. A muscle in her face twitched. That’s… “That’s different-”
“Ha! ‘Different’ so she says!” Those horrific teeth flashed as she barked a laugh. “Different how? Different not at all! I eat the flesh, you eat the mind, so’s what? Still the pony suffers ‘cos they not strong enough to stop us! That how the world works! What world you livin’ in, Ret-Cohn?”
“It’s different ‘cos I don’t get a choice!” Retcon yelled.
“You thinks I-”
“And you can shut up while I’m talking!”
The kelpie shrank back, submerged up past her mouth, her eyes narrowed dangerously.
Retcon snorted hotly, finding herself standing much closer to the edge of the pool than before. “I get one source of sustenance and that’s it. I don’t like it, but I don’t get a choice. But you,” she sneered, “what I would give to be able to eat fish, or rabbits, or birds or anything else! Something that’s not smart, that’s not thinking. You know how great that would be if I wouldn’t have to steal energy, from the people who have given me everything?” She stomped a hoof, blinking the moisture from her eyes. “I d-don’t get that choice! I have to steal from my friends, but I don’t kill anypony, and I do what I can to not let anypony suffer. You just kill ‘cos you enjoy it! Don’t you dare say that’s the same thing!”
A dreadful stillness settled over the two. Becoming aware of the predatory creature she had just shouted at, Retcon took a step back before she dried her eyes with a shaking forehoof. The kelpie still hadn’t moved, though she was now looking down at the water.
Eventually she rose up to her neck out of the water and, still averting her eyes, said, “I don’t really wanna talk with you anymore.”
Retcon sniffed. “Yeah.”
The kelpie made piercing eye contact. “You like the ponies. Why?”
Retcon paused as she was about to turn away. “Well, why shouldn’t I? They’ve been kind to me.”
“Not been kind to me.”
“You’ve not been kind to them. What do you expect?”
“What does you expects me to do?” the kelpie asked.
“Stop eating ponies!” How hard is that!? “Be nice! Just, be kind and don’t hurt anyone. It’s not hard. ‘Cos if other people like you, then it didn’t matter how different you are.” She sniffed sharply. “But if you’re mean, they’re not gonna want to be around you. It helps you to be nice to everyone else.” Pausing for breath, she shook her head and glanced away. “Or, whatever, do what you like.”
The kelpie was averting her eyes again. “Tch.” She suddenly sunk under the water, leaving nothing but ripples across the surface from a few scant bubbles.
Retcon exhaled after a moment of silence, feeling exhausted. Taking a step back, she opened a wing. Almost immediately she was enveloped in the sparkling of a violet aura. She felt the sudden yanking at her stomach and the bright flash of light of teleportation, followed by the momentary nasty disorientation as the room changed abruptly around her.
She was back out in the hallway of metal doors with Gurney and Sparkler. Gurney looked concerned, glancing between her and the unicorn. Sparkler’s eyes were red around the edges.
“Thanks,” said Retcon, rubbing the side of her head as her headache subsided. “She, um, she said she’d uphold her deal, but… I think I… Maybe don’t ask just yet. Don’t think she’ll be in a good mood.” The others didn’t respond. “What?” she asked.
Gurney glanced back at Sparkler. “Erm..”
“I can watch through the hatch, I’ll listen in with a spell too, and you can raise a wing to say you want to leave.”
Retcon felt like hitting herself in the face as she remembered Sparkler’s spell.
Sparkler took a step closer, moving hesitantly in to embrace her, but Retcon pushed her gently off. “Don’t… Please.”
“Retcon?”
She couldn’t quite look the unicorn in the eye. “Just, don’t.” Her throat was closing up. “I don’t wanna take-”
“Oh for goodness sake, don’t be stupid.” In one swift move, Sparkler pulled her into a tight hug. Retcon froze, eyes wide. Almost immediately, she felt a familiar warmth blossom in her chest. She wanted to panic, to pull away again, but it was too comforting, too sweet. It was for her, a gift freely given by a friend. Closing her sodden eyes, she allowed herself to be held.
“I’ve got you,” Sparkler muttered softly into her green mane, as Retcon began to sob into her shoulder. “I’ve got you.”
The day had finally arrived. Rain lashed against the window, filling the room with its gentle ambience. She always liked the rain.
Retcon cast an eye around her room, perhaps for the last time, she realised. She didn’t own much, so it didn’t take long to pack. All that was left were a few of the books she wasn’t able to carry.
She lifted Gurney’s satchel over her head, settling it over her neck. Other than her papers, she had packed her dictionary, and a small assortment of the more interesting books. Thankfully the comics were thin enough that she didn’t have to leave any behind.
With a deep breath, she turned and walked out the door.
It felt so long ago that she had first been lead down the hallway of many identical doors. She had practically been a different person back then, a complete blank slate. Lost and terrified, desperate to be told what to do, but finding it hard to trust a word of it.
She shook the memories away. She was better than that now. There was a lot she still didn’t know, but she wasn’t reliant anymore. She had grown, ready to live her own life now.
The changeling that had initially come to the Institute… What would she think of Retcon now? Would she be proud? Would she be happy for her? Glad that Retcon has a chance for a better life that she couldn’t have had? The thought sometimes came to Retcon, late at night when she couldn’t sleep. The changeling was dead. She had died when her mind had been wiped, and now Retcon was here, doing her best for the two of them.
What was that changeling like, she wondered? She would’ve liked to have met her predecessor, though of course that would have been impossible.
I’m sorry, for what drove you here, she thought. But, thank you for the chance. I hope I can make you proud.
Retcon stepped out into the large open room, and was greeted by Gurney and Shower. “Here she is,” the other pegasus called, grinning. Retcon has already said farewell to the others at the previous night’s pizza dinner, which had become a regular thing the past few days, but Shower and Gurney had promised to see her off when she left. Glancing around, she had hoped to see Lemony as well.
“Hey,” Retcon responded. She had grown more confident in speaking and knew she should say something else, but at that moment it was hard to say anything at all.
“You’re packed and ready?” asked Gurney.
She shouldered the satchel. “Yep. Not got much,” she said happily.
“Got your papers?” Shower reminded.
“Yep.”
“Your bank papers too? And your legal documents?”
“Yep!”
“Got your romance novels?”
“Uh-huh.” She patted the side of the satchel.
Shower smirked. “Sounds like you’re set.”
Retcon nodded, smiling sadly. She opened her mouth, trying to figure out what to say, and then, blinking hotly, pulled the pegasus into a hug. Shower’s emotions spiked warmly, and she wordlessly returned the embrace.
Pulling away, Shower smiles sadly as her emotions turned bittersweet. “I’m glad I met you.”
Retcon sniffed, and nodded. “Me too. Thanks for taking me in.”
Showers eyes shined with moisture. She inclined her head silently.
Retcon turned and embraced Gurney, who returned it somewhat more stiffly. “Thanks,” she muttered into his neck.”
He stepped back again. “It’s been fun,” he said, grinning. “We’ll see you around, I’m sure.”
“Hope so,” she responded.
Gurney nodded as they trailed off into silence. “Would be nice if Sky were here. That would been the perfect time for you to leave, all dramatically.”
Shower rolled her eyes.
“Has she said where you’re going to stay?” Gurney asked in a more neutral tone.
“Not yet,” Retcon shrugged. “At someone’s place for about a month before I can move out, but she never said who.”
“Well it’s Ponyville, right?” Shower piped up. “Rose has that extra bedroom. Plus she was one of the volunteers way back when Retcon first arrived.”
Ponyville… Yeah, won’t be Lemony. Not that- She probably wouldn’t want… Not Shower or Gurney either. That’s a shame, I like them.
“Maybe,” Gurney said noncommittally. “I dunno, she didn’t say anything about it. She seemed just as out of the loop as anyone. What about Noteworthy?”
“I dunno, co-habiting with a dude?” added Shower.
“Would that matter for a changeling?”
“Hmm, good point. Hey Retcon, you into chicks or dudes, or what?”
Retcon blinked slowly. “What?”
Shower tapped her chin. “I could see it being Noteworthy actually.”
Retcon opened her mouth to respond, but before she could, she heard the sound of hoofsteps down the other hallway. She turned to see Sky approaching.
It’s time then. …Maybe she doesn’t want to see me… She straightened herself, squaring her shoulders. I understand. I’ll miss you.
Sky nodded curtly as she drew close. “You’re here already, good. I trust you are ready?”
“Ready,” said Retcon, adjusting the satchel. She glanced at Shower and Gurney. “Well...”
“We’ll see each other again,” said Shower, smiling, though there was a taste of sourness. “I promise.”
Gurney flicked a talon at his head in a casual salute. “Later, Retcon.”
She couldn’t help but beam back, if a little sadly. “Bye. Thanks for everything.”
A sudden whoosh of wind muffled by the Warp Room door drew her attention, though not as strongly as the spike of anxious excitement that followed it. Almost immediately, the door burst open, revealing a dishevelled Lemony. Retcon’s eyes widened, partly at the surprise, but mostly at the emotions coming from her.
She threw herself at Retcon, pulling her into an abrupt hug. “I’m sorry I’m late,” she breathed.
“Lemony,” she began, at a loss for words.
“Sorry, I can’t stay long,” Lemony interrupted as she stepped away, speaking quickly. “I just wanted to say I’m really proud of you, you’re gonna do great!” She nodded to herself, then without waiting for a response, turned and cantered away in the direction of her office. Turning her head, she called out over her shoulder, “I’ll see you soon, I promise!” With that, she turned and entered her office, slamming the door behind her.
“What was that about…?” Shower muttered under her breath.
Sky cleared her throat. “It is time.” She lifted a forehoof in the direction of the Warp Room. “Please.”
Right. Retcon stepped right up to the door, turned, and waved a wing. “Bye!”
Shower and Gurney bade their farewells, waving in return. With a sorrowful smile, Retcon turned the handle and stepped once more into the Warp Room.
It was as she recalled; a large metal dish was set into the flat concrete floor, with a panel of buttons and a large switch set atop a post which stood at the edge of the dish. Directly above the dish was a huge purple gem at the tip of a metal spear.
Sky trotted in behind her, closing the door. Going up to the panel, she pressed a single button, then gestured towards the middle of the room. “Stand on the dish, please.”
Retcon did so, acutely aware of the blood pounding coldly in her ears.
“When you’re ready, pull the switch. Remember that transit can be jarring,” Sky said in a plain tone, standing a good distance from the dish.
Smiling weakly, Retcon nodded. “Thanks,” she said, and placed a hoof lightly on the switch. “Thanks for all you’ve done. I can’t tell you how much this means.”
Sky blinked, and a few odd emotions surfaced. …Embarrassment? “Uh, sure,” she stuttered. Her scowl had all-but vanished, and her lips were pursed slightly. Hah, I bet that’s supposed to be a smile, Retcon noted with amusement.
After a moment, the emotions receded. Sky inclined her head. “Fare thee well.”
“Goodbye,” said Retcon, and pulled the switch.
She was braced this time for the sudden flash of violet light, and the almost violent jerk at her centre of gravity. She held her eyes shut, her ears and wings flat, and did her best not to move as something happened around her.
Within a moment, it was over. Retcon almost stumbled over, her forelimb held up in midair near where the panel on this end was situated. Regaining her balance, she coughed into a hoof as her stomach churned briefly.
She glanced around at an otherwise-identical Warp Room, though this time with wooden floorboards, and wooden walls painted a gentle cream. It was bare but for the warp gear, same with the other Warp Rooms, also lacking windows. The roughly-hewn gem above her, also purple, was a noticeably different cut than the one in the Institute and Canterlot.
Sniffing shortly, she shouldered her satchel. Right. She strode towards the door.
Opening the door, she was greeted to a small room with small, colourful papers in pockets on the walls, and all sorts of odd little things on shelves. As the door swung shut behind her, she noticed a large map of a town on the other side. The room appeared to be laid out similarly to the one in Canterlot.
Directly before her was the door, with a small, distorted window about head-height letting in the dim midday light. The rain sounded closer than ever.
She almost jumped at the sound of somepony clearing their throat behind her. Behind the counter sat a yellow-coated earth pony stallion with a lime-green mane, holding a book with his forehooves. “Ah, welcome,” he spoke, eyes half-lidded and light amusement tugging at his lips. “This is the Ponyville Tourism Information Centre.”
Retcon blinked. “Uhh…”
The stallion tilted his head towards the front door, returning to his book. “She’s outside.”
“She’s…” Frowning slightly, she turned to face the door. Alright then. Here goes… She placed a hoof on the handle and turned, pulling the door inwards.
Outside. The sky was concealed behind a thick veil of miserable grey rainclouds. It was raining, heavier than it had sounded from her room. Her room back at the Institute, in the Everfree, she recalled. How far away was that now? The ground was sodden, a mix of earth, flattened grass and puddles everywhere. And all around her were houses, often with similar wooden walls and thatched roofs, but no two houses were the same. They were smaller than the buildings she had seen in Canterlot, but with a lot more room between them. There were no ponies, perhaps due to the weather. In the distance were the crowns of trees and the tips of distant blue mountains, almost indiscernible in the rain. One of the far-off mountains seemed to have an odd shape sticking out of the side.
Retcon stepped outside, straight into a shallow puddle. She felt the rain against her face, already starting to drip from her mane. She drew a deep breath, feeling almost overwhelmed.
This is wonderful…
A small movement to her right attracted her attention. Glancing over, she saw a pony standing just under the roof of warp building. Holding a large umbrella over herself was a familiar cream-coated mare with a two-tone blue-and-purple mane.
“Hi, Retcon,” said Bon Bon with a small smile. “Welcome to Ponyville.”
The unicorn strolled down the twilit streets of Canterlot. His shift had just ended, but he still kept a watchful eye for the citizens that were enjoying a night out. Ponies passed by him, often in groups, chatting and laughing.
Nopony paid him much attention, looking for all the world like just another Royal Guard on his rounds. That suited him fine. It had been a long day, and he wanted a drink.
The Black Horse was a quiet, cosy place, quite unlike the more boisterous bars that the younger ponies enjoyed. As Cobalt stepped in, he saw that there were no more than a dozen ponies inside. Most were seated in small groups around tables, some seated at the bar.
Busy tonight, he thought to himself.
“Ah, Cobalt!” called the orange earth pony behind the bar, giving a mock salute.
Cobalt grinned. “Alright, Amber? How’s it going?”
“Ahh, can’t complain. Busy tonight!”
The guard laughed. “Yeah, looks it.”
“So what can I get ya? Usual?”
“Please.” Cobalt pulled out a few bits with his magic and placed them on the bar, taking a seat on one of the stools. Amber grabbed a glass and pulled a pint of cider from the draught font.
Cobalt noticed the mare seated next to him had frozen up when he had reached the bar. She was an aqua-coated pegasus with a slightly darker blue mane. Her golden eyes were pinpricks as she stared at the half-drunk glass before her. Her ears were flat against her head.
“Everything alright ma’am?” Cobalt asked gently.
He saw her eyes shift slightly towards his direction, but she otherwise didn’t react.
He looked up when he heard Amber setting his glass down on the bar. “Here you are, champ.” His smile faltered when he saw Cobalt’s expression.
Frowning, Cobalt, tilted his head to his side, toward the mare.
Amber flicked his eyes toward the mare. He looked confused, and shook his head slightly.
Drawing himself up, Cobalt nodded once. Looking slightly perplexed, Amber left without a word to do something at the other end of the bar.
Cobalt chewed the inside of his cheek. He could tell the pegasus next to him was trying not to shake like a leaf. He sighed inwardly.
“Ma’am, you okay?”
The tips of her ears were quivering. And now she’s muttering to herself.
With one movement, the pegasus lifted the glass and drained the whole thing, surprising Cobalt with the sudden movement. She placed the glass back on the bar, seemingly steeling herself. She drew a sharp breath, and turned to face him.
Her eyes were glistening. She looked like she was freezing cold, even though it was warm inside. She opened and closed her mouth a few times before she finally spoke.
“…I-I surrender.”
Cobalt blinked. That’s… not what I expected…
“You… surrender?” He felt silly clarifying her statement, thinking he must have misheard.
She turned back to the bar, nervously tapping her forehooves on the surface. Her eyes were closed, and she started breathing more deeply and steadily. “…too many ponies…” she mumbled under her breath.
“Ma’am, did I hear you right?”
She glanced back up, then looked over her shoulder briefly, before gingerly beckoning Cobalt closer. As he leaned over, she whispered to him;
“Don’t hurt me. I’m a changeling. I surrender.”
Cobalt froze.
He remembered all too well the terrible Canterlot Invasion. Images and sounds from nearly a year ago suddenly flashed before his eyes. The fighting. Pulling ponies from the green goo. His nose, dripping blood. Princess Celestia, defeated.
Since the Invasion, the Guard had attempted to rout any remaining changelings hiding amongst the populace, but every time they had tracked one down, it had always managed to escape. The Guard had never been able to question a changeling.
Why would this one turn herself in?
Cobalt looked her over. There was nothing he could see that gave away her identity. All he saw was a pony. One who looked like she wanted to sink through the floor and vanish. One whose eyes were boring into his, fearing his reaction.
“Y-… You’re a-”
“Shhh!” she hushed in an undertone, glancing around. She looked set to panic.
The Guard had standing orders to detain any changelings for questioning. If she was indeed a changeling, Cobalt wasn’t about to fall for some pity ploy, but her behaviour was unexpected. He turned to his drink and took a sip. “Why are you telling me?” he asked quietly, trusting that she’d be able to hear.
The pegasus was trying to compose herself, though it wasn’t entirely working. Her ears were still flat, and her wings flitted against her back. “I give up,” she responded, exhaling the words like she couldn’t hold them in. “Hungry, nowhere else to go. I can’t do this anymore.”
Cobalt was torn. She looked and acted so much like the citizenry he was sworn to protect, but changelings were a mostly unknown species. He wanted to comfort her, but he also had his orders. He also couldn’t dismiss the possibility that he was being played, as unlikely as it appeared.
“Were you… part of the Invasion last year?”
The pegasus’s small shakes ceased. She stared at her empty glass.
“Okay…” Cobalt leaned back in his stool. “Let’s say I take you in. What then? What do you want from us?”
The pegasus frowned. “… I- … I hadn’t really… thought that far ahead…”
Cobalt couldn’t help but feel a pang of concern. “So you’re turning yourself in and, what, hoping for the best?”
She didn’t respond.
Glancing up, Cobalt spotted Amber busying himself washing glasses, shooting the pair a look every now and then. Silently, he thanked his friend for giving the two of them some space. He took one last swig of his cider and set it back down, not even having drunk a quarter of it.
“First of all, who are you disguised as?”
She glanced down as her forelegs, then at Cobalt. “I’m not changing here. Ponies, they’ll see.”
He nodded. “That’s fine, but where did you get that disguise?”
“Oh. I made it up. Not a real pegasus.”
Huh. Well that simplifies things if she’s not replaced anyone.
“You got a name?”
She frowned. “Yes.”
“You wanna share it with the class?”
“…No.”
“I’ll trade you for mine,” he offered.
The pegasus shook her head slightly. “Treason, they’ll kill me,” she said in a small voice. “Not giving a name.”
Oh… Right… Take this more seriously, Cobalt.
“Then… why are you talking to me?” he asked softly.
Cobalt couldn’t read the expression on the pegasus’ face, just that he didn’t like it.
She traced the condensation on the side of her empty glass with a hoof. “Gonna die anyway.”
A thought suddenly occurred to Cobalt. What if there were other changelings nearby? They had been talking quietly, but he became very conscious of what they were discussing. How would another changeling react to her speaking freely about them?
“Why don’t you come with me?” he said. “We can talk more back at the barracks.”
He had posed it as an offer, but given the standing orders on changelings he’d hoped she would agree. Thankfully, though grimacing, she nodded gingerly.
“Alright,” he said, mostly to himself. Standing, he waved at Amber, who walked over with a friendly smile. “Hey, sorry I gotta dash so soon, I need to get back to work.” He laughed. “You know how it is.”
He noticed Amber pointedly not looking at the pegasus beside him. “No worries champ! Everything alright?”
The pegasus mare stiffened slightly.
“Yeah, all good, situation’s green,” Cobalt said dismissively.
Amber kept smiling, but it no longer reached his eyes. Cobalt was glad to see his friend remembered what a Code Green situation meant amongst the Guards. “Ah grand, sounds like you’ve got everything under control.”
The pegasus mare’s ears had pricked up.
Cobalt recognised Amber’s question. “Yep, no problems here.” He turned to the pegasus. “Ma’am, if you’d like to follow me.” As he turned to leave, she stood and followed close by.
They stepped outside into the cold air of the night. There were still ponies out enjoying their night out, passing by happily chatting in groups, though Cobalt now wondered if any of them might be changelings. The possibility of a hidden changeling attempting to kill his charge was not a threat he’d thought he would have to watch out for.
Leaning over, he whispered to the pegasus, “Don’t get too far away from me, I’d hate to have to carry you back in restraints.”
“Oh I’m sticking with you.” She was eyeing a group of passers-by.
“Alright then,” he replied, hoping he wasn’t being lured into some sort of trap.
❦
Testimonial – Maj Silver Wing
“Evening, ma’am. How can I help you?”
The pegasus jumped at the voice behind the desk, moving behind Cobalt to place him between herself and the other Royal Guard.
If Silver Wing had an opinion on the pegasus’ reaction, he didn’t let his face in on the secret. He turned to Cobalt. “Corporal?”
“Sir, if I may, this pegasus has willingly placed herself in our custody unprompted and has indicated interest in a parley. I only ask that our reception to-”
“I’d be rather more interested in an explanation over a recommendation, Corporal.”
“Yes sir.” He glanced back at the pegasus. Her eyes looked glazed over, and she didn’t appear to be fully listening. She’s resigned her fate to us.
He looked his superior in the eye. “Sir, suspected Code Green.”
That got Silver Wing’s attention, his expression hardening substantially as he looked between Cobalt and the pegasus. “Your reason for belief?”
“She told me so, sir.”
“I… see.” After a moment’s thought, Silver Wing leaned forward and addressed the pegasus. “Ma’am? Would you mind telling me what you told the Corporal?”
Her hazy eyes never left the floor. She worked her mouth wordlessly for a few seconds before she responded. “…I am a changeling.”
Silver Wing nodded gravely, and turned to Cobalt. “Thoughts?”
“Sir, I would hear her out, standard procedure witness questioning.”
“Indeed? That would not have been my call. Nor would I have allowed a suspected Code Green to traipse around the city unrestrained.”
“…No sir.”
Silver Wing clacked his teeth in thought. “Very well. Corporal, escort our witness to the questioning room, and wait with her until we can relieve you.”
“Thank you, sir,” replied Cobalt, saluting. He shot a glance behind him. “This way, please.”
As the lethargic pegasus dragged her hooves out of the room, Steel Wing leaned back from his desk, exhaling deeply, wondering exactly what his department was in for. A changeling willingly surrendering was unheard of. The possibility existed that the Guard may finally be able to learn about ponykind’s shadowy predators.
Silver Wing scowled. This situation required finesse.
A young Guard stepped into the room and snapped to attention with a crisp salute.
Silver Wing raised an eyebrow. “Yes, Corporal Freeform?”
“Sir, shall I get the interrogation box?”
“No Corporal, that won’t be necessary.
“… Do keep it on standby though.”
❦
Testimonial – Flt Lt Light Shower
“Thank you for coming at short notice.”
Silver Wing hurried down the corridor after the newcomer, a lilac pegasus with a short blue mane and a raincloud for a cutie mark.
“Sure. What exactly have we got?” Light Shower asked as she walked.
“Pegasus mare, claims to be a changeling. She supposedly surrendered herself to a Guard unprompted and was brought here about three hours ago. Protocol dictates we bring in you people first, so we haven’t yet attempted questioning.”
Shower turned right at the end of the corridor. “I assume you’ve confirmed the identity of the Guard?”
“Yes, he gave the correct answers on his file.”
Good, she thought, as they reached the room. It was little more than an office space with a large glass window looking out onto the corridor, the blinds currently open. The Guard used this room for cross-examining witnesses rather than questioning suspects, the large open window tended to put ponies at ease more so than a wall-height mirror would.
Glancing inside, she saw a Royal Guard standing just on the other side of the door. At the table was a light blue pegasus. Her forelegs and head were lying on the table as if she were asleep, her face away from the window.
Shower raised an eyebrow at the Major. “Any reason why a suspected changeling is in a witness room rather than a cell?”
Silver Wing pulled a face, nodding at the door. “It was at the suggestion of the Corporal who brought her in, on account of her behaviour.”
Shower nodded lightly after a moment’s thought. “Understood.”
“You know, it was something of a surprise when they sent you,” said Silver Wing. He waved a hoof. “Always a pleasure to meet an old acquaintance of course, but when the R.I.I decides to muscle in on the Guard, I wasn’t exactly expecting a former Guard to show up.”
She tilted her head slightly. “Nice to see you too, boss.”
“I’m hardly your boss anymore, Shower. Though I’d have thought that, after your sudden promotion to some initiative I’m not even allowed to ask about, you wouldn’t still be Flight Lieutenant the next time we met.”
Shower shrugged. “What can I say? They don’t put much stock in titles.” She nodded her head at the door. “Excuse me.”
“Oh, of course.”
Silver Wing looked as if he wanted to say more as Shower opened the door and stepped into the room. She eyed the pegasus mare at the table for a moment, and when she didn’t stir, turned to address the Guard.
“Corporal?”
“Ma’am.” Corporal Cobalt Storm gave her a slight questioning look. He had probably been expecting a Guard and not an unarmoured stranger, she surmised.
“Light Shower, I’m with the R.I.I.”
There was the reaction she relished. Cobalt snapped to attention, a degree of surprise on his face.
She took a step closer and continued in an undertone. “I’ve been caught up on the situation. Are opinions you have on our friend?”
Cobalt chewed the inside of his cheek. “She was… flat-out terrified. I don’t think she was planning to out herself, she just… I think she panicked when she saw me.” He shot a sympathetic glance at the unresponsive pegasus. “I asked her what she wanted in return, she just said she hadn’t thought about it.” He turned back to Shower, a serious look in his eye. “She said she surrendered because she was out of options, but she also said that their penalty for treason is death. I believe she’s desperate, ma’am.” He looked troubled. “I understand that a changeling… that she could be making all this up, that she’s playing the long game or something. I get that. But if I may… I don’t think she is.”
Shower glanced over at the table, mulling all of it over. After a few seconds, she nodded at Cobalt. “Thank you Corporal, that’ll be all. Oh, what refreshments do you have on hoof?”
“Um, coffee? We have fruit, but I could get you something else. Cherry pie?”
“Just some fruit and water, please.” She nodded in dismissal. Cobalt gave a brief salute and left, closing the door behind him.
Shower took the cushion closest to the window, and sat down. The changeling hadn’t yet moved from her place on the table.
“Hello,” she said in a soft, neutral tone. “My name is Light Shower. I was told you wanted to talk?”
The mare’s ears flicked in response. After several seconds, the mare slowly began to move, lifting her head up off of the table. Her mane was a mess, her eyes bloodshot and unfocused.
Shower waited a little longer, though it seemed the mare wasn’t going to speak. “I have a few things I’d like to ask you. Is there anything you’d like to ask me first?”
The changeling dropped her chin back on the table, eyes looking to one side, away from the conversation. She didn’t respond.
“I have been told you claim to be a changeling.” At Shower’s words, the other mare winced. “Is this true?”
Finally, she drew a slow breath and looked back at Shower. “Yes. What will happen to me?” the changeling croaked.
Shower blinked at the response. “That… remains to be seen,” she responded gently. “We have never had a changeling guest before.”
The changeling looked away again. “Unhelpful,” she muttered quietly.
Huh, she’s very direct. I wonder…
“You’ll be treated in accordance with your behaviour. You’re not in a cell right this moment because you’ve given us no reason to put you in one.” She chanced a small smile which she hoped came off as friendly. “The least I can do is hear you out.”
“…Okay…” She didn’t look or sound certain.
“Tell you what,” Shower said as she stood up. She turned and pulled down the blinds on the window that looked out onto the hallway. “Would you like to drop the disguise?”
The mare grimaced and looked away. Waiting for a response, Shower sat back down, forelegs crossed and resting on the table. The mare worked her jaw, her wings fidgeting. Eventually, she squeezed her eyes shut and held her breath.
As she did, a flash of green flame licked at her forehead. The conflagration promptly spread down her mane, catching on her coat and covering her whole body, leaving behind black chitin with a deep blue carapace on her back. Her feathered wings vanished, replaced by thin translucent membranes, which Shower found particularly uncomfortable to look at. A sharp, curved horn had appeared on the changeling’s forehead, and her limbs were riddled with holes.
It took her a few seconds to open her eyes, which were fully turquoise and lacked pupils.
It was a struggle for Shower not to react to the transformation. She had prepared for it, but everything about the creature before her set her teeth on edge. She hoped that her discomfort was not too obvious. “Hello,” she said in greeting.
She found it difficult to read the changeling’s facial expression, especially when her (Shower assumed it was a her) mouth opened, revealing a set of large, sharp canines. There was a peculiar quality to her voice as she spoke. It sounded to Shower like the changeling was speaking into a fan.
“…Hi, pony…”
Shower resisted the urge to shudder. “Why don’t we start with why you came to us?”
The changeling’s body language didn’t seem all that different from when she was disguised. “No choice.” She lifted a foreleg to her shoulder, as if to hold herself.
Shower knitted her eyebrows. “How do you mean?”
The changeling stared off into the distance, shaking her head slightly. Or at least, Shower thought she was staring into the distance, the monochrome eyes were difficult to follow. “Invasion was a mistake,” she started, quietly. “Food was always hard to get, but we got by. Now it’s impossible. We should be a secret, but changelings are common knowledge. Ponies have become doubtful, suspicious. Can’t eat that.”
“And, when you say ‘food’…”
The changeling nodded. “Emotions, yes. Feed off of you, of ponies.”
The door opened before Shower could respond. She turned to see Cobalt step into the room with a tray held in his magic, then paused, surprise evident on his face. The changeling tensed up, watching the Guard warily.
Cobalt addressed the other pegasus in the room, a little hesitation in his voice. “Ma’am?”
Shower gestured to the other side of the table. The changeling flinched as Cobalt walked over, her lowered head tracking him as he moved. Delicately, he set the tray down on the table.
She switched attention to Shower for a moment, an odd expression on her face, before returning back to Cobalt as he retreated to the door.
“Anything else, ma’am?”
“No thanks.”
As the door closed, the changeling leaned forward, scrutinising the tray. It carried a glass of water and small bowl with an apple, a pear and some grapes.
She shot Shower a look, judging by the way her chin tilted up at her. “What’s this?”
“I thought you might like something.”
Her eyes narrowed slightly. Her horn lit up with the same green fire, which enveloped the glass, levitating it up to her mouth, her sharp canines clanking against the side. She leaned back after a sip, then turned her attention back to Shower, the glass floating nearby.
Shower raised an eyebrow. “Not hungry?”
“Not for solid food.”
“Then what do you want?” Her tone remained neutral.
She stared into the glass. “Love energy.”
“And how does that work?”
She gave Shower an odd look, cocking her head to one side. She swirled her water for a few seconds, then set it back down. “Changelings need love energy to survive,” she explained, eyes seemingly pointed at the table. “We can eat solid food like you, but not useful. Love energy sustains us.” Her tongue flicked over a canine as she looked up at Shower. “If you direct an emotion at a pony, it goes nowhere. But a changeling can feed on that.”
Shower frowned. “Just, feeling emotions about somepony? That’s all you need?”
“Yes. If it is directed at us, yes.”
“And does this… feeding process hurt?”
The changeling frowned. “No, it doesn’t hurt. But… it can take your strength. We need energy, energy must come from somewhere. Light feeding, you might get dizzy. Feed too much… and you tire.”
“I see.” So that’s how it works. She made sure her expression and tone were flat before continuing. “And the Invasion?”
The changeling looked down at her glass, shaking her head. “Mistake, mistake. Can force energy out of ponies, but not for long. Move of desperation.”
“Right.” She paused for a moment. “Why are you out here in Canterlot? Why not with your… hive? I mean…”
“Yes, hive, yes,” the changeling pointed at her with a hoof for emphasis. “I am an Infiltrator; I collect love energy for the hive.” She faltered. “Was. …All Infiltrators were ordered to collect energy, and not return until we have enough to share. Tried to return early, but…” She closed her eyes. “It’s no use. Not now ponies know we exist. Going to die anyway, I’m just… I’m tired of running. An Infiltrator who can’t collect is useless, so… became regular traitor…”
“Can you tell what I’m feeling?”
Once again those huge, turquoise eyes met her own. “A little. You are brave.”
That’s not what I expected. “Um, thanks. You can sense bravery?”
“I smell you’re afraid.” Shower felt a pang of unease. “Yet you stay with me.” She shook her head. “Not a compliment. The brave ones are the most dangerous.”
Ooh-kay… “Are you… feeding off of my emotions right now?”
The changeling pulled a face. “No. Not negative emotions. Can’t feed on those, makes me hungrier. You have nothing for me.”
That was disconcerting. “You… you’re hungry, aren’t you.”
The piercing look that Shower received chilled her to her spine.
“Very.”
Shower tried to keep her expression blank, but a part of her realised that was probably pointless. Even with her training, looking into the eyes of a starving predator was not something she could ignore. She couldn’t look away.
The changeling thankfully broke eye contact first, blinking and looking down at the table again. Her horn sparked green and the magic fire briefly flickered around a grape, but she released the spell without taking it.
“A-alright.” Shower cleared her throat. “First off, I cannot allow you to attempt to drain anypony by force. Do you understand?”
The changeling snorted derisively at that. “Understand. I hurt you, you squash me.” She nudged the fruit bowl around the tray with a hoof. “Not stupid thanks.”
Not how I would’ve worded it. Shower blinked. Wait… she can’t read thoughts, right? ... No, don’t be paranoid.
“Okay then…” Shower rubbed the side of her head with a hoof, conflicted. “So, how are we going to feed you?”
There was a clink of the bowl on the tray as the changeling jumped, eyes suddenly wide and focused on Shower. “…Huh?”
Shower gave her a sideward glance. “What? We’re hardly going to let you starve.”
The turquoise stare continued for an uncomfortably long time. Eventually, the changeling broke the silence. “Why?” Those terrible eyes narrowed. “What is the catch?”
Shower wanted to say that there wasn’t one, but she had a feeling that wouldn’t fly. “Tell you what, you promise not to hurt anypony and you help answer a few questions, and we’ll do everything we can to keep you fed and safe.” She couldn’t help but feel strange about bartering pony-sourced sustenance for a predator. But then, that kind of thing sometimes came with the job. “Deal?”
The changeling’s features went slack. All of a sudden, she looked very small at the far end of the table. “…Deal,” she said, looking surprised at the sound of her own voice.
❦
Testimonial – Lemony Meringue
“Hey Lems, you got a minute?”
“Huh?” Lemony blinked owlishly at the new voice in the room, a griffon, who had poked his head around the door. “Oh, uhh, just a… Can you come back? I’m kind of right in the middle of this.”
Gurney grinned at the stacks of books at Lemony’s desk. “Well unless it’s about to blow up, it’s gonna have to wait.”
She frowned. “What’s going on?”
“Big ol’ meeting with everyone. C’mon!” The griffon turned and left, leaving the door to her office wide open.
Lemony sighed, giving the slab of glowing runes and the open book one last glance before she stood and followed him out into the hallway.
At the end was a large open space with a circular table, with an empty podium set in the middle. She was surprised to see almost all of her co-workers in one room, all ponies with the exception of Gurney. Most of the cushions were already taken, though a few were standing and chatting, with isolated conversations happening all around the room.
Okay, so it’s not started yet.
Lemony took a seat next to Gurney, leaning over to the griffon. “So what’s this about?”
“Beats me,” he shrugged. “Odd that we’ve all been called in for it though.”
“Yeah…”
The sound of a burst of air coming from a side door brought a lull to the room. As the stragglers started taking their seats, Light Shower stepped through the door, joined by an off-white unicorn with a long mane and tail, green with a streak of vivid crimson, and a cutie mark of two leaves. She wore a serious expression on her face, which from Lemony’s experience was not atypical for Sky.
Shower took her seat, but the newcomer remained standing. “Before we begin,” Sky started, looking around the room.
“…any changelings here like to step forward?”
The meeting room went deathly silent. Some of the attendees began glancing around the room, others yet stared at Sky. Gurney was frowning, looking confused.
Sky raised a brow. “No one?” She gave the table a few more seconds, before gesturing to another unicorn at the table. “Fair enough. Sparkler, if you could.”
The fuchsia unicorn’s horn lit up as she levitated a deep-red gem embedded into a silver circlet. Holding it aloft, her horn flashed brighter for a split second, causing a crimson flash of light to fill the room, leaving Lemony feeling weird and fizzy for a moment. She looked around at her co-workers, who all appeared to be feeling the same way. Been a while since we used active nullite inside here.
Sky nodded, satisfied. “Alright, that simplifies things. Sorry about that. Shower, you’re up.” With that, Sky sat down, adopting a light resting scowl.
“Thanks for coming, everyone,” began Shower. “The long and short of it is that the Canterlot Guard has a changeling in their custody. We’ll be bringing the subject here to the Institute for the foreseeable future.” She paused to allow the brief murmur from around the table, then continued. “This is the first time anypony has had the opportunity to study a changeling up close, so it’s important we play this right. I need you all to understand that this changeling willingly surrendered to the Guard unprompted, and has so far been surprisingly compliant. Whatever your opinions on the Wedding, I’m gonna need you to keep them to yourselves.”
“Was it a part of the Invasion?” asked a blue earth pony stallion.
“Unconfirmed, though to be honest, my gut says probably.”
A cream-coated mare with a blue-and-purple mane piped up, “Who’s the assignee then, I’m guessing Gurney?”
“A new species to study? Ehrfurcht gebietend, it’d be my genuine pleasure.”
“I certainly hope our apex predator doesn’t get any bright ideas,” snarked Shower.
Gurney grinned. “Your little pet is safe from me; I don’t eat bugs.”
Shower smirked momentarily before she continued. “We’ll need you on board of course, but we’ll need someone else as the assignee. That’s actually why I called all of you here. I’m going to need a volunteer.” She paused, seemingly choosing her words.
“Does anypony want to figure out how to feed a changeling?”
An uncomfortable silence fell over the room.
“Uhh… you want to run that by us again?” asked the fuchsia unicorn.
“Well, the changeling needs sustenance, and that energy must come from a pony. Specifically a pony, so great news, you’re off the menu too,” Shower quipped at the griffon. Her expression sobered quickly. “But yeah, there’s no two ways about it. Either we work something out, or the changeling starves. Or of course we let her go free, but she apparently turned herself in because of difficulty getting food, so that’s not a great option.”
A white unicorn mare with a purple-striped mane broke the awkward pause. “Um, what exactly does this process entail? Changelings feed off love, do we know anything more about how?”
Shower frowned. “Only a little so far. The way it was explained to me…” She chewed her tongue in thought. “If you feel any strong positive emotion towards a changeling, disguised or not, then it can then siphon energy from you. The stronger the emotion, the more positive it is, then the more energy it can get.” Her expression deepened. “It also sounded like negative emotions may instead cause harm. The changeling said that negative emotions make her hungrier, which is concerning.”
“Wait a minute,” spoke up a pale earth pony mare with a raspberry mane. “I think at least one of us needs to bring up the chance that this is just a trap.”
“On Shower’s testimonial, I am willing to allow this to play out,” replied Sky. “The assignee will be reporting to Shower, who in turn will keep her interactions with the subject to a minimum. Sparkler, Velvet and I will have no contact with the subject, and will be checking for signs of mental manipulation.” The two named unicorns glanced at each other. Sky waved a hoof. “Continue.”
A pegasus with a spiked-up ice-blue mane and a blue flight suit cleared her throat. “Why exactly did this changeling give herself in? I mean, you mention difficulty getting food, but that could mean…”
“Oh ancestors…” Gurney swore, suddenly sitting up straight.
Shower nodded slowly. “Yeah. Apparently, they haven’t been able to get as much energy since the failed Invasion. Our changeling was instructed not to come back until she had collected enough to share, but she couldn’t even feed herself. And you’re right… We need to learn as much as we can in case any more changelings come knocking.”
“Very well then,” said Sky, interrupting before the silence could linger. “Unless there’s any further questions? … The changeling will be brought here shortly. We need volunteers to offer energy to keep the subject alive. This takes priority over your current assignments. I can’t ask any one of you to participate, this feeding process is not well understood and is a breach of personal autonomy, so you must willingly decide for yourself. Gurney, Velvet, Sparkler and Shower are to abstain.”
Lemony looked nervously around the room, seeing that some of the others were doing the same. Sparkler looked uncomfortable, but sat still. To her surprise, a very hesitant Bon Bon was the first to raise her hoof.
Shoot, do I go for it? Thought Lemony, conflicted. I don’t want some bug leeching off of me. That sounds awful. She saw Roseluck slowly raise a foreleg as well. I’m just the historian, this isn’t my field. Besides, back in Canterlot… She suppressed a shudder. Yeah, I’m staying out of this.
Feeling a weight off her withers, she glanced around to see if anyone else had volunteered. Briefly, her eyes caught Shower’s. Lemony paused.
Wait, Shower was there in Canterlot too, wasn’t she? I thought she’d hate the changelings for that… whole mess. But she’s spoken to this one? I don’t…
…
She had a mug of coffee back at her desk. She had drunk most of it, though the rest was most likely cold by now. She had meant to replenish it after the meeting. She could do that.
She remembered unbidden that she had eaten a half a grapefruit with sugar for breakfast that morning. The other half was sitting in the fridge, for tomorrow.
Both her parents were earth ponies. She remembered a childhood of helping her father out in the garden with the carrots and the rhubarbs. She was never that good at cooking, but she’d help out her mother, a chef, by holding up all the little pots of spices and herbs with her magic.
Her forehead prickled, along the tiny hairline fracture running only an inch up the base of her horn. Images of a Canterlot under siege flashed through her mind. She saw the streets, the ponies running past her. The castle getting closer. Shadows in the sky.
Lemony raised her hoof.
Then blinked when she realised she had interrupted Sky, who had been talking.
Oh, uhh… everyone’s looking at me…
❦
Testimonial – Lemony Meringue
“You feeling ready?”
Lemony stood outside one of the sapient habitation quarters, the room where the changeling had been moved. During the briefing with Shower regarding what was known about the subject, she had asked to go first, which the other two mares who had volunteered seemed to appreciate.
She turned to look at Shower, who seemed uneasy. “Uh, I think so. As ready as I can be!” she said, trying to bring levity to her words. Her heart was beating out of her chest, but she was determined to give it a try.
“Alright. Just be careful, okay?” Shower paused before she spoke again. “Shout if you need anything, I won’t be far away, yeah?”
Lemony smiled weakly. She knew that was supposed to put her at ease, but thinking about how to solve future possible problems just made her worry about the problems actually happening. “Sure thing.”
“And uhh, thank you, for doing this. I’d have volunteered myself if Sky hadn’t put me in charge of the project.” She nodded encouragingly. “Good luck.”
“Thanks,” Lemony nodded earnestly in reply.
She opened the door and stepped inside a plain room that wasn’t too dissimilar from a small hotel room, if one were to ignore the concrete floor beneath the carpet. And the bars in the window, of course.
Plus, a hotel might typically put a mint on the pillow, and not a changeling.
Lemony briefly registered a flash a large teal eyes and sharp teeth, then a lick of bright, green flame, and she found herself looking at a surprised-looking Shower standing on the bed, one foreleg raised to her barrel and wings held aloft.
…Huh?
The door clicked gently shut behind her.
Lemony blinked, her mind having stalled. “...Uhhh...”
You just saw Shower outside. And she acted like Shower normally does. And then there was the green flames. Keep it together, dummy.
“...Uh, hi!” she ventured. “W-Why did you change into Shower?”
The changeling actually managed to look sheepish. “...I jumped,” she responded in Shower’s voice.
This isn’t a great start. Lemony shook her head. Try again. “My name’s Lemony,” she said, trying to sound cheerful. “Mind if I come in for a chat?”
The false Shower jumped down off of the bed. “Do I have a choice?” she asked, cocking a brow.
“...Um, yeah. Is this a bad time?”
The changeling frowned. “No. ...Okay.”
Lemony smiled. “What’s your name?” She knew that the changeling had refused to give one, but couldn’t help but start there.
“No names,” she shook her head. “Need to keep it secret.”
“That’s okay. Would you like a new one? Or, like, a nickname or something?”
“...Maybe?”
Maybe later then...
“Do you, uhh... want to drop the disguise?” Lemony gestured at her with a hoof. “You’re safe in here, I promise.”
The changeling glanced down at one of Shower’s lilac forelegs. “Not really. Why, you want me to?”
Yes, you look and sound like my co-worker is possessed and it’s creeping me out. “Oh no, honey, you’re okay.”
“Okay...” said the changeling, sounding uncertain.
...Right, she’s not very chatty. Guess I should probably pick up the slack.
“So, let's cut to the chase,” Lemony said, her nerves returning. “How exactly do changelings, I guess, feed?”
The changeling gave her an odd look with Shower’s face. “We can take from emotions that are freely given, and we can extract them if not.”
Okay, I’m going to ignore that second part, she thought. Shower had ruled that option out, for which he was grateful. “‘Freely given’ emotions, how does that work?”
She shuffled her wings, seemingly choosing her words. “If you love, if you feel love, and that love is directed at a changeling, then it is freely offered. Or any strong positive emotion, but love is the strongest.”
Lemony took a steadying breath. “Alright then, here goes…” Closing her eyes, she focused inwards, drawing on positive thoughts and happy memories; her parents, growing up in the countryside. Her childhood friends. Moving to Canterlot for college, going to parties and get-togethers and cafes with her friends from the archaeology course. Meeting the Princesses in person last year. Sky, offering her a job.
Thinking back over her experiences, she brought her happiest memories to the surface and let them wash over her. Even the simple things in life; watching butterflies on azeleas, the neighbour’s foals playing, the taste of spaghetti carbonara….
She was interrupted by a dry bark of a laugh. “Really?” Cracking open her eyes, she glared at the unhappy-looking pegasus. “I thought you were here for questions. You are afraid. You have nothing to offer. Go away.” Despite the words, there was no force or harshness in her voice, as if she were stating facts.
“Yeah?” Lemony snapped back, feeling insulted for her effort. “Well, you want to eat? I-I’m it. If you wouldn’t mind working with me on this it’d be a great help.” She felt flustered all of a sudden.
The changeling’s expression slowly loosened, becoming strangely flat. Shower’s familiar eyes bored into her own in an uncomfortably steady way. She felt the urge to fidget, but couldn’t help standing stock still.
Um…
The changeling softly padded over to the unicorn, carefully maintaining eye contact. Lemony froze, heart in her throat. The creature disguised as her co-worker was acting uncannily unlike a pony, head hunched forward and shoulder blades visible through her withers as she walked. The unicorn’s breath caught as instinct screamed at her.
She couldn’t move a muscle, not even when the changeling closed to within touching distance. She felt a muzzle press lightly against her neck, behind her ear. The breath made her skin crawl.
Canterlot. Running. The screaming. Black. Green.
Sharp white.
She felt the pressure lessen, but she didn’t dare move as she felt the creature move past her. Movement, behind her. On her other side. Pressure, again, on her exposed neck. A wolf, contemplating its prey.
And then it passed, and Light Shower stepping back into her field of vision. Her head was held upright, the way a pony would, a slight questioning look in her eye. She stopped, standing just a little too close.
Lemony’s limbs hurt from being held so tense. She felt her muscles shake as she loosened them.
“You’re serious,” said the changeling. It wasn’t a question. She chewed the inside of her mouth, then nodded. “…Alright then.”
“…Wh-what was that?”
The changeling smiled lightly, almost apologetic. “That was the reason why we two cannot co-exist. You decided I was a threat.” She cocked her head. “Did I bite you? No. Am I going to bite you? No. But your pony brain says I will. You can’t get away from that.” She sniffed, muttering, “That’s why changelings should be secret.”
Lemony glanced dizzily down at her hooves, focusing on remaining standing. She realised she was breathing irregularly. I should… do something, about that.
“…Sorry.” With a side glance, the changeling turned and retreated to the bed. She sat down beside it, resting her chin on the mattress.
Lemony sat, her breathing once more under control. Her eyes narrowed as she steeled herself. “I… I want to see what you look like,” she said, just about keeping her voice steady.
The changeling gave her another odd look. “You’re persistent.”
“Because you’re wrong.”
She made no move to respond, so Lemony continued. “What do you know about griffons?”
The changeling shrugged dispassionately. “Their talons are sharp, their wings are swift. Were we their enemies as we are yours, we would be dead long since.”
“Griffons once hunted ponies, for food. Thousands of years ago.”
“So?”
“So, I work with one. His name’s Gurney. He’s nice.”
Scowling, the changeling turned away again. She was silent for several seconds before responding. “Griffons can eat other things,” she muttered. Her scowl intensified for a moment, then she huffed and lifted her head. She gave Lemony a sharp, uncomfortable look.
“…Thanks.”
The unicorn blinked. “Huh?”
“For staying. …For trying.”
Lemony managed a weak smile. “Uh, sure.”
There was a flash of green flame, and Light Shower was gone. Sitting in her place was one of the insectoid creatures from the Invasion. Large, pupil-less teal eyes seemed to bore into her soul.
“O-Oh… goodness…” Despite understanding what had happened, she found it difficult to reconcile what she was seeing with the pony she had been talking to.
The creature cocked its head, then with another flash of green it had vanished, replaced this time with a pony Lemony had never seen before; an olive pegasus mare with a forest-green mane and golden eyes.
“Sorry,” she said, absently. Her voice was a little higher, a little softer than Shower’s was. She winced and drew a sharp breath, rubbing the side of her head. “You should probably go, you’re not going to get past this.”
Lemony recollected herself. “No!” she said, feeling affronted. She found it easier now she wasn’t looking at Shower being controlled like a marionette, now she wasn’t looking at… “I’m not just going to, you know, leave, not when you need help. I’m here for a reason, tell me what you need me to do.”
The new pegasus knitted her eyebrows, then stood and stepped forward, leaving a comfortable space between them. “Alright… First off, you’re still afraid. You need to stop that, control your feelings or you’ll starve me out.”
“Okay… How do I do that?”
“Don’t ask me,” the pegasus shrugged. “They’re your emotions, I just do this end.”
Okay… okay… She tried to push aside thoughts of the changeling and just focus on what was in front of her. An ordinary pegasus… I’ve never met her before, but, I guess, she looks like she’d be pleasant to talk with…
It was difficult to push away thoughts without thinking about them, but after a while she had started to feel less anxious.
“Okay, okay, I think I’ve got a handle on it.”
The pegasus nodded. “Good. Next, you have to like me.” She smirked sarcastically. “Good luck with that.”
Uhh… Oh…
“It’s no good, what you were doing before,” the pegasus continued dryly. “You can’t just drudge up happy feelings and, what, throw them at me. If you don’t feel the emotions about me, then they’re useless.” She turned and strode back to the bed. “And you know what I am so there’s no point in continuing.” Delicately, she climbed up onto the bed and lay down, facing the wall.
“…Thanks for trying though,” she mumbled into the pillow.
To see the creature that had not long ago terrified her act like this was like a whiplash to Lemony. Trotting over, she sat down beside the bed. Disjointed memories came to her of comforting her college roommate after a bad date.
“Hey,” she said gently. “I’m not gonna just give up, okay? We’ll… we’ll figure something out.”
The pegasus snorted. “Being comforted by a pony…” She paused, then muttered, “Pity.”
“…What is?”
She twisted her head round to glare Lemony in the eye. “You. You’re sending me pity. It’s gross.”
“Oh… uhh, sorry about that.”
Returning to face the wall, she didn’t respond. The two lapsed into silence. Lemony wanted to say something, something that could make things better, but she couldn’t think of anything. She couldn’t think of what to do. It wasn’t like she could force an emotion, to force herself to like someone she didn’t know. Someone who frightened the living daylights out of her. Is that it, should I go?
The pegasus sighed suddenly, breaking the silence. “I’m sick of this,” she muttered.
“Hmm?”
She took a while to respond. “Going hungry. Having to rely on stealing energy, just to stay alive. …Being hunted.” Her voice had developed a croak to it. “I know… I know you can’t change what you are. It’s just…”
She lapsed into silence. Lemony patiently waited.
“…It’s just that… You ponies have it so much easier. You can’t help that, but you do…” She drew a shaky breath. “I hate what I am. I hate that I was hatched a changeling. …Is that bad?”
Uh, yeah, it kinda is…
…Hatched…?
The pegasus sniffled. “…Hive sends me out to die… I guess, I wish I were one of you. That I were a pony. That I could just… live.”
“Well, you know… right now, you kind of are one,” Lemony offered with a small smile.
“But I know that I’m not. I have to lie. All the time. I was a good Infiltrator, but it’s all the time, just to get food…” The pegasus shifted on the bed. “Guards are good with lies,” she muttered darkly. “…Always know…”
“I guess we could give you some retcon,” Lemony joked, mostly to herself. “Then you’d forget you were ever a changeling.”
The pegasus stopped moving.
…Yeah, maybe that was over the line. Be serious, Lem.
She twisted on the bed to lie on her belly so she could see the unicorn beside her. “What?”
“Oh, uhh, sorry. It was a bad joke.”
“…”
“I mean…” she rubbed the back of her head. “Sorry, I kind of make jokes when I don’t know what to say. I mean, I get nervous, and I-”
“No, what is retcon?”
“Oh, right.” Come on, nopony on the outside knows what it is. “It’s an amnesiac.” She saw the pegasus’ blank expression. “It’s like, a memory wipe drug. We make it here.”
“Memory wipe?”
Lemony nodded reluctantly. “Like I say, bad joke.”
The pegasus drew a slow breath.
“…How strong?”
❦
Testimonial – Lemony Meringue
“Explain.”
Lemony glanced nervously at the changeling, still in the guise of a green pegasus. Her expression was difficult to read, though she seemed anxious, judging by her jittery wings. Being as they were seated together in the boardroom opposite a stone-faced Sky, Lemony could empathise.
Sky’s horn had been glowing a light meadow-green since when they had walked in, which Lemony assumed was the source of the very subtle buzzing she could hear in the background. She'd had to work to convince Sky to even talk with their guest. Next to Sky sat Shower, who hadn’t said a word since they had started, her brow furrowed.
She couldn’t imagine what the changeling beside her was feeling.
“I want a trade,” the changeling stated. Her jaw was set, but her ears were flat against her head. “Lemons says you have a memory wipe drug. I want that. In return, I will tell you anything you want to know.”
“Why?” asked Sky simply, flicking an ear. Her expression didn’t change.
“Fresh start.” The changeling glanced down at the table. “I have nothing else, nothing to go back to.”
Sky paused for a few moments, before responding in a neutral tone. “What makes you think you have anything we’d be interested in?”
The changeling cocked her head. “Why are you keeping me here? Why are you trying to keep me alive? I know you haven’t captured any changelings since the invasion. You didn’t even capture me. You need me.” Lemony noticed that, despite the changeling’s steady voice, she had become jittery as she spoke. “You want to learn about those who prey on your kind? Promise you’ll help me, and I’ll comply.”
Sky regarded her coolly. “And if we decline?”
The changeling reclined back on her cushion, her face a show of cockiness. “Then I will starve within a week.”
Lemony was surprised to see Sky develop a small smile in contrast to her cold eyes. The changeling visibly bristled.
“You’re quick to turn your back on your people.”
The changeling scowled and leaned forward. “I was an Infiltrator,” she said, her voice a harsh whisper. “I collected love to feed the entire hive. I performed my purpose and I did it well. What did they do for me? Stage a stupid invasion, reveal our existence and make my job impossible.” She snarled. “Queen commands we don’t come back until we collect enough to share. Two months, pony, and I have been living off scraps. Compliments, gratitude, concern, pity,” she spat the last word. “I owe Hive nothing.”
“You aren’t concerned by the fate of your Hive?”
“It doesn’t matter. Hive is not going to survive. Not without Infiltrators. Not now you know we exist. Worry is unhelpful. Besides,” she sneered, “I became a traitor the moment I spoke to your Guard. They didn’t welcome me back before, certainly won’t now.”
The unicorn slowly nodded. “Alright then. Name your terms.”
The changeling blinked in surprise. “Y-you agree?”
Sky’s gaze hardened. “No. Name your terms.”
“I want your memory drug. You remove every memory from my head, make me forget what I am, what I’ve done. Everything. You make me believe I am a pony, tell me I have memory loss. No memories. You make me believe, and then you put me somewhere you call normal, and you let me live.” She nodded curtly. “That is what I want.”
“You want to forget everything you know?”
The changeling nodded. “She that would keep a secret must keep it secret that she hath a secret to keep.”
“And in return?” asked Sky, cocking an eyebrow.
“You want to know about changelings? Name it.”
Smirking, Sky leaned forward. “What is your name?”
The changeling scowled. “Not that. If the Hive finds out that you know a changeling’s name, they’ll know they have a traitor, and they’ll know who. Anything else, but not the name. Please.”
Sky snorted, amused. “Alright, I can appreciate that.” She sat back, not dropping eye contact. “Shower, what are you thinking?”
Shower glanced up, caught off guard. “Oh… How is she going to get sustenance?” She turned to face the false pegasus. “I mean, if you’ve been having a hard time as it is, how do you expect to do any better without even knowing how you’re supposed to get food? Just forgetting doesn’t change what you are.”
“If emotions are offered freely, I can feed on them passively. That’s easy, just happens, instinct. Hard bit is finding ponies to offer them.” Her expression dropped. “Ponies are very suspicious of newcomers, and can’t take place of a real pony anymore. Couples, friends have passwords now. ‘Answer this question and prove you’re not a changeling’, buzz off. They don’t even need suspicion, they do it for fun. Never used to be like that…”
Lemony cleared her throat, shrinking as everyone looked at her. “Um, well, I’ve been thinking; couldn’t we set her up somewhere quiet and friendly? I mean, Rose, Bonnie and Sparkler all live pretty near to each other, they could vouch for her and help get her settled. Nopony would suspect her of being a changeling when three of their neighbours can say she isn’t, and she would fit right in. Or, y’know, something like that…” She felt herself blush. “I mean, maybe Canterlot’s not the best place, but I’d help out if you wanted to go there.”
She had mostly been addressing Sky, but she noticed the changeling giving her a peculiar look by the time she’d finished. Lemony suppressed a shudder.
“If you go through with this, there’s no way back.” Sky had a serious glint in her eyes. “It’s not like everything is safely locked away in some dark alcove in your mind, such that if you hear about changelings all your memories will return. Once they’re gone, they’re gone. Do you understand that?”
The changeling opened her mouth to say something, but instead just nodded slowly.
“Good. Second, while Compound B67 is made for the excision of long-term memories, it has never been used for something as comprehensive as what you’re asking. Hypothetically it’s possible,” she raised her voice to forestall interruption, “but I cannot guarantee it will work exactly as you intend. You may retain some memories, or you may lose too much. We will do everything we can to mitigate these, but do you accept this risk?”
She nodded vigorously. “Yes, yes.”
Sky leaned back, chewing the inside of her cheek, her dark eyes narrowed. “I’m not happy with this. You’re right, we haven’t managed to question any changelings before now. The very existence of your kind being kept such a secret for so long concerns me.” The changeling wrinkled her nose, but said nothing. “We know so little about you, we didn’t even know you existed until the Wedding, and we weren’t ready.” Her scowl intensified. “I wasn’t ready. I tendered my resignation after that mess. I’m only still here because the Princess refused me.
“And then you show up.” Her voice became quiet, and as cold as a blizzard. “I am terrified of you, you know. Can you tell?” The changeling shook her head dumbly. “Not of what you can do to me. I couldn’t care. No; you came to us, your enemies, becoming apparently an outcast from your kin, because you were desperate. What terrifies me, is how desperate your fellows might also be; is how many of them might be forced to make the same choice. If, as you say, your hive is doomed, where then will they go? I needn’t tell you we are ill prepared to support a hive’s-worth of starving creatures that prey upon our emotions. Not when we’re still trying to figure out how to feed one. Do you understand?”
The changeling’s expression had gone slack, staring wide-eyed into the distance.
“That was concerning to consider, I admit,” continued a frosty Sky. “But we had you. We had a chance; to learn from you, to learn of your kind. To know more about how you work, so we won’t be caught off-guard when, when they come knocking.
“And you want to erase all of that so you can run away and hide?”
The room fell into a deathly silence. The changeling looked as if she had been struck. Other than her twitching eyes, she wasn’t moving, Lemony couldn’t even tell if she was breathing.
And then Sky blinked, and the icy air seemed to recede. The light green aura around her horn flickered out.
“Alright then, here’s my proposal,” she began, once again in her neutral tone. The changeling’s ears flicked. “You will remain here for a minimum of fourteen days, during which you will answer any questions and assent to any inquiries posed to you. You may be retained here for longer as needed. After this time, you will be given a dose of B67, and we will do everything we can to integrate you into society as an amnesiac.” She raised a brow. “Sound fair?”
The changeling nodded gingerly.
“Excellent,” proclaimed Sky, getting to her hooves.
“Wait! …What do you … I mean, if you find other changelings, or… uhh…” She clammed up.
Sky regarded her with an inscrutable expression. “You want to know our intent with your kind?”
“Just… don’t hurt them. Please. They’re just desperate. We all are…”
“We’re trying to keep you alive, aren’t we?” she interrupted before the changeling could respond. “Yes, I know, you have something we want. Doesn’t matter. Point is, we much prefer the peaceful option. As it is, the freedom of choice lies with the other party,” she stated slowly. “I’ll agree, but no promises.”
Frowning, the changeling nodded again.
“Speaking of,” she turned to Shower, “contingent on your volunteers’ agreement, I’m authorising you to use whatever method you see fit to get energy into our guest, understood?”
Shower looked surprised. “You serious?”
Sky shrugged, turning and leaving without another word. Shower shot a look at Lemony, who responded with a bewildered smirk.
The changeling glanced between the two of them in turn. “What was all that?”
Lemony couldn’t help but laugh. “Oh, don’t let Sky get to you. She’s a bit... like that.”
Shower’s mouth quirked with amusement. “She’s not exactly the most personable of ponies. She doesn’t really understand how to talk like normal.”
The changeling eyed the closed door. “Correct.” She rubbed the side of her head. “What was that buzzing?”
Shower frowned. “Huh?”
“Probably just the lights,” reassured Lemony. I think Sky wanted to make sure you were telling the truth.
The changeling’s eyes flitted to the light in the ceiling briefly, then turned to shoot the pegasus a quizzical look. “What was the thing about the contingent author thing? She speaks fast.”
Shower rubbed the back of her head with a hoof. “Yeah, I think we should stick with current plan for now. Uhh, how did it go, Lems?”
Why is this so awkward to talk about? “Umm, well, no dice just yet, but I’ve learned a bit more about how changelings, y’know, eat, so… I think maybe keep trying, right?” she said in a small voice.
Shower’s eyes darted momentarily to the disguised mare opposite her. “We’ll do a full debrief later, but is there anything you want to bring up now?”
“Well…” she turned her head to the changeling, who was looking back with a puzzled expression. “Apparently it’s no good to just bring up happy thoughts; the positive emotions have to be about her.”
The changeling nodded seriously. “Yes, Lemons was scared. She doesn’t like me.”
“Wha-… I like you!”
The changeling looked confused. “No… that’s incorrect,” she stated, frowning.
“Huh, right.” Shower stood up from the table. “I’ll go share that with the others, thanks Lem-” she smirked, “Lemons.”
“Hey!”
She chuckled. “I’ve got to go, d’you mind showing our friend back to her room?”
“Oh, yeah, sure.”
“Thanks, later.”
As Shower left, Lemony noticed the pair of eyes boring a hole into the side of her head. “…What is it?”
“What is what?”
“You’re staring.”
The changeling averted her gaze, glancing around the empty boardroom. “You’re the most interesting thing in the room.”
Lemony snorted. “Oh, you flatter me,” she said with a wave of a hoof in mock-appreciation.
“No I didn’t,” the changeling scrunched her nose.
“Um, that was a joke.”
“…You’re confusing me.”
Lemony suppressed a sigh. She’s smart, but some things keep going over her head. Maybe I should stick to being more literal and direct?
“So hey, what do you like to do in your spare time?”
“Spare time?” She frowned, looking away to the side. “I’m not… I guess, I enjoy it when it’s quiet.”
“Okay. But I mean, any hobbies?”
“No, none of those. Can I look at you again?”
Lemony blinked, realising the changeling was pointedly looking anywhere but at her on purpose. “Oh, uhh, sure.”
She’s not making this easy… Maybe I’m approaching this too much like she’s a pony.
“Hey, your umm, your disguise magic is pretty cool.” She couldn’t tell if the changeling was giving her a funny look, or if that was a neutral ‘keep going’ expression. “Can you transform into anything?” Probably not, but maybe I can get her to respond.
“Uhh, no. Only into ponies, though too big a difference in mass can be a problem. I couldn’t be your Princess, example.”
That was better! “Ooh, could you maybe, turn into me?”
The changeling winced. “Ugh, not now.” She rubbed the side of her head. “I’m really low on energy. Hurts when I use magic, really rather not.” She looked at Lemony with tired eyes. “Should not you be taking me back to the room? I’d like to rest.”
“Oh, right, sure. Come on then.” Lemony stood, watching as the changeling slowly rose to her hooves. She wasn’t unsteady per se, but the unicorn noticed a definite hesitation in her movements, her head drooping.
…Screw it.
Lemony stepped alongside the false pegasus with a small smile. “Hey, I’m here if you need me, okay?”
The changeling froze up for a moment, but then surprised Lemony by leaning against her side as she walked. “…Thanks…”
Lemony’s smile grew. Not so different from us after all.
She had been terrified earlier, wondering what in the world she was doing volunteering to be food for a changeling, but all that seemed so long ago. The more she talked with the faux pony, the more of a pony she could see, even beyond the equine exterior.
A lost creature, with nowhere else to turn and no one else to ask for help. Hungry, and alone, and she had come to her for help. A feeling of warmth filled Lemony’s heart. Purpose.
I’ll help you. We’ll get you through this. I promise.
The weight on her side fell away, and she stopped, glancing concerned at the changeling behind her.
The changeling, who was standing stock still, eyes wide and staring straight ahead, limbs tensed as if she were trying not to move.
“Um, you okay?” She was suddenly concerned something was seriously wrong.
A moment of stillness. Then the changeling staggered back, as if she were pulling on a rope that suddenly went slack. “…W-what was that…?” she breathed.
“I don’t… know? Oh goodness, are you okay?”
She filled her lungs with air, breathing deeply, seemingly standing taller. Her eyes, wolf-like in their ferocity, met Lemony’s, who took a half-step back.
Ooh-kay, and she’s in my personal space again.
“Was it the touching? What was it?” The changeling demanded.
Lemony craned her head back, her ears going flat. “I-I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
The green mare sniffed the air around the unicorn’s face, and her head drooped. “Lost it…” Her expression became somewhat more timid all of a sudden. “You were sending me energy. I’m…” She faltered, glancing repeatedly between the unicorn in front of her, and somewhere off in the distance. “You know what I am, but you…”
She shook her head lightly. “…Thank you.”
Lemony stammered. “Y-youu… you were getting energy… from me?”
She nodded. “Just for a moment.”
Fleetingly Lemony felt disturbed, like something icy down her spine. She couldn’t help it, the idea of having been fed upon, even if she hadn’t noticed it. But the sensation vanished as she considered the creature before her; not a predator, but a mare, suddenly shy and grateful.
She couldn’t imagine being so hungry that she would be willing to abandon her home and family, but she could help somepony who was.
The idea still creeped her out, but the notion that she had lent the starving changeling some of her energy filled her with joy, relieved that she would be able to help, that she could share the food she had in abundance. A sensation of happiness welled inside of her.
“Ack!” Wide-eyed and wings flailing, the changeling fell over backwards.
❦
Testimonial – Lemony Meringue
She could tell the changeling wasn’t calm. The occasional twitch of an eyelid when someone spoke too loudly, the flicking of an ear or fidgeting of her wings; over the past fortnight of being poked and prodded and pressed for answers to a cavalcade of questions, Lemony had started to pick up on some of the changeling’s body language, distinct but not entirely unfamiliar. This was especially so nearer the end of a day, but even though the changeling had tried to remain aloof, her behaviour had slowly… changed around the pink unicorn. Lemony couldn’t quite place it, but it seemed like her charge had become more comfortable around ponies. Or at least, around her.
It must be a very hard instinct to break.
Still, the changeling had only very rarely relinquished her disguise, something Lemony didn’t want to question. She had become somewhat more comfortable being in proximity, but the changeling’s natural form still creeped her out. One time, she had tried to convince the changeling to drop the disguise for a while so she could try to get used to seeing it, but she had been met with a staunch refusal.
It was difficult to align the image of the olive-green pegasus with her messy forest-green mane and tail, the mark of a tree on her flank, with the thought of those terrible creatures that had attacked Canterlot. Although she had hoped to get over her fear, she sometimes wondered if this visual disconnect was the reason she had been able to come to like the changeling enough to be able to keep her alive.
She had been receiving energy from Lemony during the two weeks, mostly in small amounts, but enough to see a small improvement in behaviour. She had become less lethargic, and while not very verbose, she wasn’t quite so short and brusque in her responses. She was still hungry, and sometimes admitted as much when asked, but the desperate spark in her eyes had dwindled; other than behaviour, that was the only visual cue Lemony could discern through the disguise, as the green pegasus never looked overly thin or gaunt. She proclaimed herself content, and wasn’t shy to let Lemony know of her gratitude. This came as a great relief to everypony involved, not least Lemony, who had been getting concerned she would need to ask Shower about the drastic measures Sky had authorised.
However, Lemony had started to feel the effects of the passive feeding during the second day. It had started with headaches, small at first, as if she hadn’t been drinking enough fluids. It took her a while to realise she had begun to have problems with maintaining attention of things. She caught herself staring off into the distance while someone was talking to her more than once. Coffee just made her jittery. Then the exhaustion set deep into her bones. Shower sent her home early on the fifth day, something she could barely recall when she awoke late-afternoon on the next day. The day-off helped immensely, but the changeling had become slightly withdrawn in the interim, and clingy upon her return.
But she kept at it, no matter how draining it was, no matter how creepy and invasive it felt to be fed upon (a thought she was adamant not to dwell on). The changeling was difficult to get along with, and even though the other volunteers had tried to build a rapport, Lemony was forced to shoulder her burden alone. In fact, the only other person who seemed to get along was Gurney. She did however greatly appreciate the flowers and card signed by Roseluck and Bon Bon, given to her before they took their time off. Shower had also been very supportive, checking in on her daily to make sure she was well and happy to continue. Shower often looked conflicted, as if she had more to say. After most of her co-workers had been given a leave of absence, so as not to colour their impressions of the soon-to-be amnesiac, Lemony found herself enjoying her time talking with the ex-guard.
She smiled at the faux pegasus, receiving in return the gentle narrowing of golden eyes that she interpreted as a small smile.
During their time together the changeling had become, Lemony guessed, slightly possessive of her. She thought she could understand why, even though it made her feel weirdly gross inside to be someone’s personal buffet. The changeling seemed happy to ask her questions and just listen to her talk about herself. However, whenever Lemony asked about her in turn, often innocuous questions about her personality, she would usually divert. Having an inkling of why this was the case, Lemony wouldn’t press the issue.
It was because of this that she had no idea what was going through the changeling’s head, sitting bolt upright atop her bed.
What must it feel like to know that everything that makes you you was about to be erased?
Today was the day that she would die, and a new pony would take her place.
Though she couldn’t bring it up, the thought that the strange pony she had been bonding with for the past two weeks would soon no longer exist upset Lemony in ways she couldn’t articulate.
The two of them jumped as the door opened. Shower stepped in, followed by Gurney and finally Sky, who was levitating a tiny wooden box.
The box was proffered to the changeling without ceremony. She picked it out of the air with a hoof, eyeing it gingerly. “Is this it?”
“Yes,” Sky nodded. “Retcon. Just enough to wipe your mind, by my reckoning.”
She opened the lid and looked inside at the single white pill at the bottom. “I thought it was going to be an injection. Especially after getting to know Mr Needles.” She nodded at Gurney, who grinned to himself.
Shower looked uneasy. “You still sure about this?”
The changeling quickly nodded. “I’ve thought about this, yes.” She sighed, closing the little box. “So, what happens?”
“There’s a sedative in the compound, it’ll knock you right out. You won’t feel a thing, just like falling asleep,” explained Gurney. “Tomorrow you’ll wake up with no memories, a completely blank slate. Well, retcon doesn’t touch the speech centres of the brain, but everything else…” he made a ‘poof’ sound and gestured with his talons.
“It’ll be as if there never was a you,” said Shower. “A person is defined by their memories, the sum of their experiences. Everything that makes youwho you are will cease to exist.
Despite the tone in Shower’s voice, the changeling nodded. “Good.” She glared at Sky. “And then?”
Sky didn’t flinch under her look. “Once you have acclimated to your new situation, you will be placed in a small town in close proximity to a number of Institute employees, who will assist in your societal integration. You will be monitored periodically for progress. We estimate that with a cordial relationship with at minimum four ponies will be enough to allow you passively gather sufficient energy without drawing attention, which should be simple where we’re sending you.” She quirked an eyebrow. “After that is up to you.”
“Are you absolutely sure you’re happy with your form, by the way?” asked Lemomy.
The changeling glanced down. “Why, what’s wrong with it?”
“Oh, nothing’s wrong with it! It’s just, if it’s the form you’re going to have, you really should make sure you’re happy with it.”
She shook her head. “Normal ponies don’t get to decide what they look like. They get what they get.” She raised an olive forelimb. “This will do.”
“Very well then,” said Sky. “…Good luck.” An odd expression passed her face, just for a moment. “Lemony, my office when you’re free, please.” Without waiting for a reply, she turned and left, closing the door shut.
The changeling glanced down at the box, resting a hoof on the top. “I should say; thank you.” She looked up. “All of you. For doing this for me. For listening, for trying to help.” Her eyes met Lemony’s. “For keeping me alive. You’re everything the Queen said you would not be. I hope…” She paused, then shook her head.
Lemony smiled, feeling her eyes begin to water. She opened her mouth to reply-
“Don’t remember me,” said the changeling, swiftly popping open the lid of the box, holding it up to her mouth and swallowing the pill.
Lemony heard sounds of surprise. She felt her heart in her throat as the changeling grimaced, eyes closed tight, and slumped against her. “Oh goodness, oh goodness...” She held the hyperventilating changeling with a foreleg.
It has happened too fast. There were things she wanted to say. She had agonised on how to give her a proper send off.
Gurney was by her side. He was speaking quickly. A talon flashed by her vision, helping support the changeling’s head. Her golden eyes were pinpricks, unfocused as they darted around the room.
A lilac wing rested on Lemony’s back. She held the olive pegasus close, feeling as her breathing slowed.
The streets were all-but deserted as the rain lashed down throughout the town. Window shutters were closed, orange light leaking out from behind them, and smoke rose from chimneys into the cold air. Great black clouds rolled overhead, blocking out the afternoon sun.
Glancing out from under the umbrella, it was one of the most beautiful things Retcon had ever seen.
She stuck close to Bon Bon as the earth pony lead her through the town, with its huge grassy roads and tidy wooden houses, and past a great water fountain near what might on better days be a marketplace. The sodden grass squelched as she walked, but she didn’t care. The place was wonderful.
She briefly stepped out from under the umbrella as Bon Bon stopped abruptly. Bon Bon transferred the umbrella from her mouth to her hoof. “Here we are.”
Retcon blinked up at the house in front of them. She thought it looked huge, but who was she to say how big a house should be? It was as big as any other house they had passed after all. There were lights on inside. Her breath caught in her chest.
“Before we go in…” began Bon Bon, glancing over with a serious expression, her voice low. “Two things. Obviously, remember your NDA. But more importantly, don’t bring up changelings or the Invasion around Lyra, okay?” She shook her head lightly as she spoke. “She… got caught up in all that in Canterlot, and she doesn’t like talking about it. We good?”
Putting on an equally serious expression, Retcon nodded firmly.
“Okay…” Bon Bon, seemingly relieved, closed the umbrella down and made to open the door. She paused with her hoof on the handle. “Oh, fair warning, she can be a bit exuberant.” With that, she opened the door, and the two of them stepped inside from out of the rain.
The first thing that hit the changeling was the smell; light and warm, she couldn’t place it. It wasn’t something she could remember having smelled before, and it wasn’t like anything she could recall. The smell of a home.
The door shut behind her, and along with it the cold and the sound of rain, muffled against the walls and windows of the building.
She found herself in a small hallway, with wooden walls and floor. There was a lamp and a collection of all sorts of things she couldn’t name on top of a wooden sideboard stacked with drawers.
Her attention was drawn to the thumping of hoofsteps coming from upstairs, growing less-muffled as they approached. A mint-green unicorn appeared, calling out as she descended, “Hey, Bonnie!”
While on the outside Bon Bon only smiled, Retcon could sense a pulse of joy coming from her as the unicorn spoke. “Lyra, this is who I told you about this morning.”
Grinning, Lyra stopped in front of her and extended a forelimb, which Retcon met. “Hey there! I’m Lyra!”
“Retcon.” No alarm. Nothing other than the weirdly-high levels of good cheer. The energetic unicorn was actually delighted to meet her. Retcon couldn’t help but return a smile.
“So Bonnie says you’re staying with us ‘til you get your own place.”
Retcon took a sip of the mug of hot chocolate in her hooves, being careful not to burn her mouth. Between the hot drink and the crackling fire, she felt like she was melting into the sofa. “Um, if that’s okay, that is-”
“‘Course it’s okay!” Lyra chirped. “You can stay here as long as you need.”
“She’ll only be here a month or so,” said Bon Bon lying on the same sofa as Lyra. “Just until her own place is ready.”
“Ooh, where’re you moving?”
“It’s one of those new builds, just off Narrow Street,” Bon Bon replied. “I can show you around the neighbourhood tomorrow if you like,” she added to Retcon, who nodded back.
Lyra hummed. “So what brings you to Ponyville?”
“I… reckon I could do with a fresh start,” Retcon said smoothly. “I wanted to move somewhere quiet to… heh, it sounds cheesy but, to find myself.” She glanced at Bon Bon, who was sipping her tea contentedly. “Bon Bon was kind enough to offer to help.”
“That’s my Bonnie! How’d you meet, the Confectioners Conference?”
“She’s a friend of Amethyst Star’s,” Bon Bon explained. “She wanted to help out, only she’s not got the extra room at her place, and Retcon needed somewhere to stay for a month. And, well, I just mentioned we had the spare room.”
“Ah, better than couch-surfing.” Lyra smiled. “So what do you do?”
…’Do’…?
“Do you have a job lined up yet?” Bon Bon added quickly, before the silence could drag.
Oh! “Um, no, nothing yet. I was going to ask around and see what options I have.” And, well… I’m not sure about Sky’s offer yet.
“Fair, there’s always something in town, I’m sure you’ll find something no problem.”
No matter how hard she focused, Retcon couldn’t sense a single drop of suspicion in the room. This is going better than I’d hoped.
“Where’ve you moved here from?” Lyra asked, horn aglow. A duvet floated gently in front of her as she guided the cover over it.
“Do you want any help with that?”
“Nah, I’m good.” As the golden aura vanished, the duvet dropped on top of the bed. “Don’t worry about it, it’s easier with magic,” she said with a grin.
Retcon nodded. Maybe so, but I can get by without, I reckon. “I’m from Witherby,” she stated, recalling her debriefing with Sky.
“Witherby? Not heard of that.”
“Most ponies haven’t.” Retcon shrugged nonchalantly. “It’s pretty out the way. I hadn’t heard of Ponyville either.”
“Ah, that makes sense. Ponyville was a pretty sleepy place before the Coronation. Well, as sleepy as it gets near the Everfree, y’know?”
Coro-… ‘The ceremony of crowning a sovereign or a sovereign's consort’. Oh, Princess Twilight Sparkle was recent, wasn’t it.
“I’m from Canterlot, myself,” Lyra continued merrily, smoothing out the bed. “I moved down here when I met Bonnie. You ever been?”
“Oh, um, just the once. Wasn’t there long.”
Lyra gave her a slight look. “You okay?”
With a start, Retcon realised she was staring off into the distance. “Yeah, I’m fine. It’s just Canterlot is a lot different to Ponyville.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.” Lyra’s ears pricked up, her expression one of sympathy. “It wasn’t during the Invasion, was it?”
Retcon blinked. I thought I wasn’t supposed to mention that! “Uhh… No, it was a lot more recent. I wasn’t there… then.”
“Ah, alrighty then.” The unicorn appeared relieved. “I thought for a sec I brought up some bad memories. Speaking of,” she glanced over Retcon’s shoulder towards the door, then lowered her voice conspiratorially. “Don’t mention the Invasion or changelings around Bon Bon. She gets all weird when I bring it up. Deal?”
“Uh, okay,” she nodded. But that’s what Bon Bon said.
“Thanks.” Lyra smiled. “I dunno why, she wasn’t even there! Bonnie had a work do that day so she couldn’t come, but how that was more important than a freaking royal wedding is beyond me. I was there though,” she added with a smug grin. “Bridesmaid to the Princess, thank you very much! Plus I got mind-controlled by the bug queen herself! Kickass or what?”
“What?” WHAT!?
Chuckling, Lyra’s expression dimmed slightly. “Well to be honest, it wasn’t all that great, the Invasion and all that. I thankfully missed all the bad stuff because I was bewitched most of the time, but a lot of ponies had a very not good day. Still! Makes for a cool story. Silver lining and everything.” She tilted her head toward the door. “But yeah, don’t say anything to Bonnie. She gets all evasive, so I stopped bringing it up.”
“Understood. Thanks.” Chewing the inside of her cheek, a thought came to mind. “What do you think of the changelings? Since you were there, I mean.”
“Hmm…” Lyra stared off into the distance. “Probably… about an eight outta ten on the badass scale. Love the magic evil bug aesthetic. Their eyes actually look like they glow, so that’s super cool! They’ve got massive fangs.” She began talking while baring her teeth, “You’d ‘hink ‘heir hrunt ‘heef hould ged in ‘he hay. I dunno how they can get their jaws shut.”
“Not as hard as it looks. Probably.”
“Yeah, probably. But, they’re also pretty gross up-close.” Lyra blew a raspberry. “The cheese legs give me the heebies.”
“…Cheese legs?”
“Y’know.” She lifted a mint forelimb. “All the holes, like cheese.”
“Oh, right. No idea what that’s all about.”
Lyra shrugged. “Me neither. I heard it was something to do with soaking up love. Like a basking shark moseying about with its cakehole open.”
Retcon absently scratched her chest. “I dunno. Maybe?”
“Eh. Oh, Bonnie’s told you about the Everfree, right? Since you’re from out of town.”
“Yep,” she nodded. “Don’t go in, but Whitetail is okay.”
“Okay.” Lyra smiled. “Well, welcome to Ponyville I guess! Come find us if you need anything.”
With a farewell and an assurance Retcon would join them for dinner, Lyra left her to her new room. It was cosy, slightly smaller than her old room back at the Institute, but in a comfortable way. The walls and floor were made of wood rather than solid concrete, with a nice rug at the foot of the bed. The window was larger, though she couldn’t see much through the late-afternoon rain.
With a deep exhale, Retcon slipped the satchel over her head, setting it down on a chest of drawers. Twisting, she flopped onto the bed on her back, her wings spread wide behind her, and stared up at the ceiling.
She breathed.
There was a distant muffled clanking come from downstairs in the vicinity of the kitchen. The occasional rise of voices too, though even without the gentle tapping of the rain on glass, she had no hope of catching what was being said. Even her emotion sense wasn’t registering anything.
She felt like she was sinking into the duvet. The very air around her felt fresh and alive.
It was a bright and shining day, almost all sign of the recent rainstorm had gone, and the town was buzzing with activity. Every single one of Retcon’s senses were being overloaded with novel stimulus as she walked through town, being surrounded by more ponies than she had ever experienced since Canterlot.
Last time, she had a goal to focus on, and she had somepony to follow. This time, she was exploring Ponyville for the sake of it. No task to complete, nothing to distract her. She was truly free.
All the same, it took a lot of self-control not to jump every time another pony greeted her as they passed. It appeared to be a friendly social thing to do, even though the greetings don’t result in a conversation when the instigator doesn’t stop. Retcon wondered if she should start dealing out similar hit-and-run good mornings, but felt it might be an idea worth building up to first.
The most peculiar thing she had noticed during her first walk through town was that, once or twice, she had briefly felt the familiar sensation of warmth in her chest following the exchange of greetings. With strangers, no less. She had almost tripped over her hooves as it had happened, but the pony had moved on and the warmth was gone. It had sent her mind spinning as she had walked away.
Ponies appeared to be brimming with emotion, and for some even a smile and a bid for the morning to be good was enough to eke out enough for her to take. She couldn’t even bring herself to feel guilty about it, it was such a small drip of energy that it wouldn’t be missed. Moreover, it was offered to her. Perhaps it was still wrong in some sense, but if food would be so easy for her to gather, then at least she had little chance of going hungry without having to drain one individual to exhaustion.
Following Bon Bon’s directions, she had dropped by a sparse street on the edge of town, by a stream which flowed through the town. There she had seen what was to be her house. Her house. It was presently lacking glass in the windows, but her breath had caught in her throat as she looked at it. It was built in the same rustic style as the surrounding houses with brightly painted wooden beams and a thatched roof. But crucially, it was her’s.
She didn’t stay long. Starting to feel choked up on her emotions, she instead left to explore the town, taking random turns to see what she could find.
After passing a building that appeared to be made out of food, she came across a particularly wide street with small wooden stands spread throughout. There were more ponies in this street than any she had seen yet, trotting from stand to stand and carrying food and all sorts of other things as they went, many bearing overstuffed saddlebags.
An honest-to-goodness marketplace.
Despite her usual aversion to social contact, a market was one of the pony things she had been looking forward to engaging with. Unfortunately, she didn’t yet have any money, which took the form of small discs of metal. Bon Bon had said she would take Retcon to the Ponyville bank, though everything she’d said following that had gone completely over her head. It sounded like it was something to do with how she would access the ‘stipend’ as promised by Sky. However it worked, hopefully it would allow her to get some of the delicious-smelling food from the market.
“Hi!”
Retcon’s wings twitched. Realising the surprise greeting appeared to be aimed at her, she turned around to see a bright pink earth pony approaching. Her blue eyes appeared to sparkle, and she walked in an oddly controlled sort of way.
Retcon almost did a double-take. The pink mare’s effervescing emotions tasted like the canned drinks from the Institute.
“You’re new in town, aren’t you,” the mare stated with an undercurrent of delight.
“Oh, yeah. Good morning.” Retcon ventured a small, friendly smile. “I only got here yesterday.”
“Ooh, welcome to Ponyville! My name’s Pinkie Pie, what yours?”
“Retcon. Hi.”
“Hiya Retcon! Nice to meet you!” Pinkie Pie leaned closer conspiratorially. “Now, a little Bonnie told me about a new pony in town called Retcon, and she said they would be,” Pinkie glanced to her left, then to her right, then leaned even closer and stage-whispered, “a little bit shy!”
I’m not-! I mean, I just don’t like… I just don’t do talking well. I’m… Retcon blinked. Wait, I guess I am shy. Huh.
Pinkie nodded sagely. “So I thought that since you might be,” she glanced left and right again, “a little bit shy, maybe a biiig party with all of Ponyville invited wouldn’t be your thing, right?” She appeared to take Retcon’s look of panic as a response. “Yeah! So maybe insteeeaaad…” With a pink forelimb, she reached into her poofy mane and pulled out a large white box wrapped in red ribbons, holding it out toward an astonished Retcon. “How about a make-your-own party in a box! That way you can have a ‘Welcome to Ponyville’ party that’s more you!”
“Uhh…” Retcon stared.
“Take it! It’s yours!”
She did, holding the box gingerly in her hooves. “Oh, thank you,” she said distantly.
“You’re welcome!” Pinkie shut her eyes and tilted her head in a look of delight. A shade of concern momentarily crossed her expression, and she held a forehoof to her chin. “Wait, was it ‘a little birdie’?” She shook her head. “No no, right first time. Anyway, you let me know if you ever want a Super Regular Pinkie Party™, okie?”
Retcon nodded absently. “Okie…”
The pink mare giggled. “You are shy! See you around!” With a wave, she turned and started trotting away in the direction of the building made of food, the motion of her limbs strangely stiff and measured. After about ten paces she stopped walking and started bouncing instead.
Realising her mouth was hanging open, Retcon shook herself from her thoughts. Ponies can be strange. Deciding not to question the mare’s odd behaviour, as it appeared none of the passers-by she had pronked past had so much as looked at her twice, Retcon hefted the box onto her back, holding it in place with her wings. It had a surprising degree of weight to it.
As she made her way back to the house, it started to dawn on her how… full she felt. Maybe she should stay home for a few days.
Heh. ‘Home’.
A strange building caught her attention. Strange in the sense that it wasn’t exactly a building. It was a large tree with a door and windows. A tree, seemingly, with a building in it. She slowed her walk to get a better look.
There was a mare standing just outside the open doorway sweeping the front step with a broom held in a bright magic aura. The mare in question had a lavender coat with a deep blue mane and tail, and possessed both wings and a horn.
Retcon almost tripped over her hooves. Is that the Princess!?
She didn’t realise she had come to a complete stop until the alicorn glanced up and saw her, the broom hanging in place in the air as their eyes met. Retcon felt a jolt in her heart. The other mare didn’t just see her, she looked at her.
The spell was broken after a second as the lavender mare smiled lightly and, lifting a forelimb, waved at her. Reforming her expression into as friendly a face as she could manage, Retcon waved back.
She let out the heavy breath she hadn’t noticed she was holding in when the other mare returned to her sweeping.
“Hey, what’ve you got?” asked Lyra as she stepped into the room.
Retcon set the box down on the coffee table in the living room. “I dunno. This mare gave it to me just now.”
“Ah. Was it Pinkie?”
“Um, yeah.”
Lyra smirked, hopping up onto the sofa next to Retcon. “Well what’s inside?”
Using what Retcon could only describe as spatial trickery, the box appeared to contain more matter on the inside than the external dimensions should’ve allowed. Separated into tiers by thin bits of card were all sorts of baked goods and snacks, starting with dozens of miniature cakes, or aptly-named ‘cupcakes’ according to the unicorn, each with colourful designs on the top made with some form of apparently edible paste. The next layer down was an actual full-size cake, a word Retcon recognised despite the fact it was the first cake she could remember having seen. Unlike the cupcakes, it was a deep rich brown with small red fruit on the top. On the level below was a large glass jug of a fruit drink, which Lyra identified as ‘punch’, which confused Retcon as she hadn’t thought the word could be a noun. The jug thankfully had a lid, though how it hadn’t come loose in transit she had no idea. It was somehow heavier than the box had been.
At the bottom of the box was a collection of colourful inedible things. Lyra demonstrated the party blower, which initially shocked Retcon, but she couldn’t help but laugh at the sound, and how silly Lyra had looked. Lyra did however prevent her from opening a small glass tube of sparkling powder, saying, “Bon Bon would kill me if I got glitter in the living room again.” She smirked. “So who’re you inviting?”
“Inviting?”
“Yeah. Normally Pinkie invites the whole town, but, well…” She rubbed the back of her neck. “Bonnie says you’re… Do you wanna keep it just the three of us?”
That’d be nice, she thought. I’ve never had a party, so it would be a good way to learn about them in a controlled environment. Better than having to deal with loads of ponies I don’t know. Although… I guess there are some ponies I know who live here. Three of them. Would be nice to see Sparkler again.
The door swung shut behind her, blocking out the lively sounds from outside.
Retcon couldn’t help but stand in place for a minute, soaking in the coolness and stillness of the house. The bright late-morning sunshine beamed in from the windows into the spartan hallway. It smelled warmly of freshly-worked wood. There were no decorations, none of the pictures or lamps, pot plants or rugs of Bon Bon and Lyra’s more lived-in home, but for now a bed in one room was all she needed.
It was like the entire building was a blank page, for her to change as she wished; a thought as liberating as it was daunting.
She placed the keys on the floor by the door, making a mental note to get a sideboard at some point. She also pulled Gurney’s old satchel over her head, leaning it up against a wall. Inside were her books and papers. Up until now, that satchel had contained everything she owned. Now she had somewhere to keep it.
She drew a deep, fresh breath of air, then trotted absently across the wooden floorboards, soon finding herself in the kitchen. There was no oven, nor a fridge, though the pantry should suffice. The living room had a fireplace, should she need to heat anything. She could easily make do. The kitchen table had a bowl on top of it. Bon Bon had called it a fruit bowl. Retcon resolved to get some fruit at some point.
She stepped up to the sink in the worktop, leaning against it in thought. The wall behind it was blank. Perhaps a good place to hang a mirror?
Absently, she reached over with a hoof and twisted the faucet. A steady stream of cold water ran down into the sink, swirling down the plug hole. Retcon held the edge of her hoof against the stream, watching as the water curved around it.
The full-height bedroom mirror on the wardrobe turned out to be particularly ideal in the house of a changeling. Retcon had only bought it because she had seen Bon Bon owned one and thought it seemed a homely thing to have, missing her old wall mirror from the Institute. In occasional bouts of paranoia, Retcon found herself seeking out mirrors to check that she still looked how she expected.
Having become more comfortable in her new hometown and now finally alone in her own house, she had started to feel more curious about her abilities. Emboldened by a few test-shifts of her eye colour, she had bought a small collection of magazines and newspapers from a paper stand in the market. With her curtains drawn tightly shut, and Gurney’s charcoal sketch of her regular pegasus form taped to the side of her mirror, she had the papers spread out over her bed, lying open at random pages.
She twisted her head from side to side, inspecting the stranger’s face in the mirror. It was the form of an orange unicorn with an unkempt white mane and tail, and green eyes. Retcon was delighted with having got the eyes right, at least as best as she could tell by the tiny picture in the magazine. She couldn’t find the mare’s name, having only appeared in the background of a photo. The form felt strange in subtle ways, being slightly shorter than her usual self, though after having taken the form of a changeling, Retcon didn’t find the strangeness particularly uncomfortable.
“Hello,” she said aloud to the reflection. It was her regular voice. It seemed she was able to easily mimic the voice of any pony she had heard, even achieving an eerily close approximation of Gurney on her first try. Going by memory, she had taken the form of Shower and was surprised by the ease with which her voice changed to match how the pegasus sounded. However, when she took the forms of ponies from pictures, she had no voice to copy.
“Hello,” she repeated, this time with the slightly lower register of Shower. “Hello”, as Bon Bon. “Hello,” from Lyra. Didn’t really fit. She switched to Sky, “Hello. Blah blah blah, I’m grumpy,” then blew a raspberry at the mirror. Retcon chuckled, a strange sound to hear coming from Sky’s voice.
With a burst of green fire, she switched back to her regular form. After lifting her wings, turning her head and checking her teeth and eyes, she was satisfied she had successfully changed back. She had adopted the slightly longer and spikier mane and tail from Gurney’s sketches into her usual look. The switch barely took a thought now, with her pegasus form well-ingrained into her mind. Perhaps it was a good thing she had decided to practice.
Turned back to the bed, she flipped over a different magazine. On the front cover was a white-coated unicorn with a vibrant and spiky blue mane and purple glasses, operating some sort of machinery. Retcon couldn’t tell what was going on, perhaps the mare was a smith? The magazine was titled “METAL” after all.
She cast her eyes over the image, drawing in the details. She couldn’t tell the mare’s eye colour, and so imagined the purple shade of the glasses. With a pull of her magic, she felt herself shift, taking the unicorn’s form.
Turned back to the mirror, the white unicorn from the magazine looked back, inspecting her in turn. The mane was slightly off, she thought. The shape was difficult to picture and she hadn’t gotten the blue quite right. Plus, the eyes were a total guess. Other than that, it wasn’t a bad attempt.
“Hi. My name’s Metal Mare and my voice fits really well,” she announced in Lemony’s gentle tone, then cackled.
Knock knock knock.
Retcon nearly jumped out of the unicorn’s skin, wheeling to look out of her room towards the stairway. Someone was at the door.
Could they… No they couldn’t have seen. The curtains in her room were still shut, and she had already checked for gaps. Calm down. It’s just a neighbour. Go say hi. It’ll be fine.
She quickly shifted back to her normal form, giving herself one more once-over for mistakes. Happy, she hurried down the stairs and opened the front door.
“Oh, hi!” said Princess Twilight Sparkle, smiling and wearing a top hat.
Retcon’s pupils shrank to pinpricks. “Princess! I- Uhh-” Oh no, do I bow?
The Princess waved her off. “Please, just call me Twilight.”
“O-Okay.” She noticed a small figure riding the Princess’s back. Spike, the small dragon she had spotted around town typically following in the Princess’ wake. He was currently sporting a similar smaller top hat, as well as a huge bushy moustache. It was perhaps supposed to be comical, but seeing the dragon up close reminded her of…
“I mean it. Unless we could’ve got clearance to let the new Princess know we exist so that we could recruit her baby dragon, which would also be a paperwork nightmare for more reasons than I can count, we would have had a whole neighbourhood in Canterlot in 24-hour quarantine for at least the next few days.”
…and by association, the moustache set her on edge…
She cleared her throat and tried her best to look and sound polite. “How can I help you, Twilight?”
“Oh, well we were just passing by, and-”
“Fluttershy’s hosting a fancy-dress tea party!” proclaimed Spike. “We’re going as high-class gentlestallions!” Jumping to his feet on the alicorn’s back, he removed his top hat and, holding to his chest, bowed deeply. “Madame.”
Twilight rolled her eyes good-naturedly. Levitating her own top hat, she mimicked Spike’s actions, bowing her head as well. “How do you do,” she said, putting on a slight accent. Spike yelped as Twilight ducked her head, managing not to fall forward.
Retcon blinked as the Princess bowed to her. “Uh, hi,” she replied meekly, unable to contain a grin at the absurdity.
“Though,” Spike scratched the side of his head with a sharp claw, holding his top hat by his side, “I didn’t think Fluttershy liked fancy-dress parties.”
Twilight levitated her top hat back onto her head, over her horn. She turned to look back at him. “Hey Spike, I’m just gonna have a quick chat, do you want to head on without me?”
“Ohh, but Twiii,” he bemoaned dramatically, “my legs are indeed so small, and I only have but two of them!”
With a flash of magenta magic, a couple of coins appeared in front of Twilight. She levitated them over to Spike. “Go grab us some donuts, okay? I’ll have chocolate, with chocolate sprinkles. Extra chocolatey chips.”
Spike grabbed the coins and jumped to the ground. “Done! See you there!” With that, he bolted off faster than Retcon had thought he could go. Twilight shook her head as she watched, chuckling under her breath.
“Chocolate donuts?” Retcon ventured. “Very princessy.” She almost winced as she said it.
Twilight nodded with a half-lidded ‘serious’ look. “Oh yeah, I’m all about being princessy.” She laughed, and Retcon joined in, relieved the metaphoric ice had been broken.
“Anyway,” Twilight continued, “I just wanted to say welcome to Ponyville!” She extended a forehoof. “Retcon, wasn’t it?”
Retcon bumped the hoof. “Yes, Retcon. Thanks, nice to meet you!”
Twilight smiled brightly. “I notice you’ve only moved in recently, but I’ve seen you around before. Were you just visiting then?”
Retcon’s ear flicked at the faint sound of buzzing. “I was just staying with some friends, Bon Bon and Lyra,” she replied with a pleasant smile. “They were kind to let me stay in their spare room for a bit.” She placed a hoof on the front door, “The house wasn’t ready to move in just yet. I’ve only lived here two days. Still getting used to it.”
“Ah yes, Lyra mentioned you. You’re also friends with Amethyst, right?”
Amethyst… Oh, Amethyst Star, that’s Sparkler! “Yes, we’ve uh,” why does she go by a different name outside of the Institute… “we’ve worked together briefly.”
Twilight nodded. “So, how’re you fitting in? What brings you to Ponyville?”
“Oh, quite well, thank you!” Retcon smiled. “I just needed a change of pace, a fresh start. Amethyst Star suggested Ponyville, so I came by to check it out. It pretty wonderful here!”
“Isn’t it?” Twilight agreed emphatically. “I’m originally from Canterlot. Don’t get me wrong, I love my hometown, but Ponyville is just…” She glanced up at the clear blue sky. “It’s nice. That’s the perfect word. And I don’t normally like the word ‘nice’ when there are more descriptive adjectives you could use, but… there aren’t any other words as gentle and succinct. Very different to Canterlot.”
Retcon scanned the sky as well. It was a lovely day. “You’re right. Ponyville sure is nice.”
“So where’re you from?”
“Oh, I’m from Witherby. It’s a small town, probably smaller than Ponyville.”
The buzzing…
…
…y’s horn had been glowing a light meadow-green since whe…
…ource of the very subtle buzzing she could hear in the background.
“Oh, it’s way off to the West,” Retcon shrugged. “Not many ponies have heard of it.
“Before the Smokey Mountains?”
“After.”
“Ah, must’ve been quite the journey!”
Retcon inclined her head. “I didn’t walk the whole way, of course! I took the train from Sire’s Hollow.”
“Sire’s Hollow, huh… Alright.”
“Do you…” Retcon drew a steadying breath. “You run the Ponyville library, right?”
Twilight smiled. “That’s right! Golden Oak Library, you can’t miss it!”
“How does that work with, y’know, being all princessy?” Retcon’s eyes widened. “Oh, that’s not rude, is it?”
Twilight laughed. “No, not at all! I keep the library open because I enjoy it! Besides, I’m a bit of a bookworm. If I can help ponies find the books they need, then all the better! Feel free to stop by if you ever need anything.”
“I will, thanks!”
“Well, the princess stuff is… kinda new, you know?” Twilight glanced off to the side briefly, her face flushing. “It’s really weird when ponies I’ve never met know who I am. I mean, ponies are usually pretty nice about it, but I kinda miss being able to blend in with the crowd.”
Retcon nodded sympathetically, but said nothing.
“Anyway, Celestia says I’m ready for it, so… I guess being ready and feeling ready are two different things. Heh, at least I don’t have to sit in on all the meetings on legislature! I still have some reading I’d like to get through first. Have you ever met Celestia?”
“No, I’ve never had the chance,” replied Retcon, shaking her head.
Twilight beamed. “Well hey, perhaps I could let you know next time she’s in town! I’m sure she’d love to meet you!”
Retcon gasped, covering her mouth with a hoof. “No way!”
Twilight chuckled. Allowing the moment to lapse into a comfortable silence, she gave Retcon a small, genuine smile. “Thanks for treating me like a normal pony, Retcon. So many ponies get all stuffy when they have to talk with ‘the Princess’. It’s been good to talk with you.”
Retcon grinned back. “You too Twilight! Thanks for… y’know, being cool.”
“Ha ha!” Pulling a serene, noble expression, Twilight lifted a forehoof to her chest. “Twilight Sparkle, Princess of Cool.” The two mares giggled, then Twilight removed her top hat with her magic and inclined her head. “Pleasure to meet you, Retcon.”
“Oh!” Stepping inwards with her right legs and bending her left, Retcon gave a small, awkward curtsey. “My Princess!”
Twilight snort-laughed, and placed her top hat back on her head, just behind her horn. “Don’t do that,” she chortled. “See you around! If you ever need me, you know where to find me.”
“You got it. Later, Twilight!”
Twilight waved as she trotted away, and Retcon waved back until the alicorn was out of view.
Retcon stepped back inside, shutting the door. With a flicker of green flame around her forehead, she lifted her house keys up off of the floor and jammed one into the door lock, turning it with an urgent click. Her expression fell as the icy claw of dread clutched at her heart.
Retcon glanced up at the sky as she stepped outside. Overcast, like the weather wasn’t sure it wanted to rain or not. She sighed. Perhaps some rain was due. It had been rather sunny for the past week, though she hadn’t left the house in that time.
While she didn’t necessarily need to buy more food, it certainly wouldn’t do to not keep up appearances. That being said, even if she didn’t require solid food, her isolation was beginning to disagree with her stomach.
Closing the door, she squinted up at the great grey expanse. It was harder to make out, but she thought she could see the small cloud again. It had been easier to spot that particular cloud on other days when the sky was blue and clear.
She greeted the other ponies as she passed them by, and they bid her a good day in return. After all, that’s what one does when one is having a good day. There was nothing wrong.
Her smile never wavered. Her wings never twitched, and her words never faltered. She was content and care-free as she made her way into town.
All the same, she knew the Guardhouse was right next to the train station at the edge of town. As was the Ponyville Tourism Information Centre. Instead she would head in the direction of the Everfree. Surely if she went far enough… Besides, monsters live there. She would be safe.
But it wouldn’t come to that. She nodded absently, like she had a song stuck in her head. She was sure it was a pleasant one.
The walk was over sooner than she’d have liked.
The branches of the great tree didn’t cast much of a shadow in the wan light of the obscured sun. Without hesitation as if it were the most normal thing in the world, she reached up to the door and knocked.
“Its’s open!” came the response from within, almost immediately. Taking the invitation, Retcon opened the door and stepped inside.
Having been told the tree house was a library, the fact that the shelves were stacked with books didn’t surprise Retcon. What did was the sheer number of books all around the room. She had found that she has quite enjoyed reading, but it tended to take her a while to get through them, due to having to consult her dictionary every now and then, something she found herself doing less frequently. To see so many books all in the same place was strangely daunting.
Ponies wrote all this? How do they find the time?
“Oh, hey!” Her eyes were drawn from the shelves to a table to one side of the room. Glancing up from papers in front of her, the Princess turned and gave her a bright smile. The quill suspended in the air dipped into an inkwell, and the magenta aura around it faded. “Retcon, welcome!”
“Um,” Retcon paused with a foreleg held in the air, “Am I interrupting?”
“Ah, nonsense!” Twilight stood and, with a flick of her horn, the papers on the table collected themselves together into a neat pile. “You’re not interrupting anything, I was just writing to my brother. How can I help?”
“Oh, alright. Well, um, I was wondering, do you have any books on food?”
“Food?” Twilight blinked. “You, hah, uhh, could you narrow it down? You mean the science of nutrition, I have some journals on physiology?”
“Umm… I mean, like… anything on how to make food?”
“Oh, cookbooks!” Twilight grinned sheepishly.
Retcon shrugged, her wings flicking outward. “I’m not that good at cooking.”
“Heh, well, you’re in good company.” Lighting her horn, the Princess trotted over to a shelf and started pulling out dozens of books all at once. The books started to orbit around her. “So, have you been cooking long?” she asked casually.
Retcon took a breath. So it starts. “Princess… Do you m-mind if I speak openly?”
“Please, call me Twilight.” She shot Retcon an askance look. “What’s up?”
“…I get the impression you’re watching for something.”
The books halted in their orbit. There was a complete stillness for several seconds, then the books started to move back to their shelves. “Well, perhaps there’s nothing to watch for,” said Twilight with a disarming smile.
“I-I don’t mean to be rude. I’m… sure you have good reason.”
Twilight chuckled mildly. “Maybe I’m just paranoid.”
“Mmh…” Retcon chewed the inside of her cheek “…Twilight… Can you trust me to be honest?”
“…Can I-…” Twilight frowned. “Isn’t the matter of your honesty up to you?”
“You would be the one doing the trusting.”
Purple eyes narrowed an iota. “…If, hypothetically, I were to say no, how would you respond?”
“I’d… probably leave,” Retcon said with a faint smile.
“…I see…” Twilight paused, then inclined her head. “Then, yes. I trust you.”
Nodding absently, Retcon drew a long breath. “I just… I wanted to say; what you said before about Ponyville… It is nice. It’s quiet, and everypony is really friendly, and… I like being here. Living here.”
Twilight nodded. Her expression was blank, but Retcon tasted concern.
“…Thing is,” Retcon continued before the silence grew awkward, “I thought we might not, exactly, get along.”
“Why would you think…” A spark of offence, quickly smothered. “We haven’t met before, have we?”
“No!” Retcon exclaimed. “No, at least, I don’t think we have.”
“Heh, is being a princess really that scary?”
Retcon rubbed the back of her neck. “…Well… you could say royalty in general, I guess.”
“Right…” Twilight paused for several seconds, looking her in the eye. “Did Witherby have a mayor?”
“Of a sort.”
The alicorn’s tone of voice turned casual. “What’s Witherby like, growing up there?”
“Oh, pretty ordinary,” Retcon enunciated, her expression bordering on apologetic. “About as ordinary as you can imagine.”
Her heart was pounding in her ears.
“I suppose you’ll be visiting? Seeing family and friends?”
“Never, I suspect.”
Twilight almost faltered. “…No?”
“I, uhh…” Retcon sniffed. “…There was a disagreement. I was, umm… I felt like I needed a fresh start.”
The polite smile was gone. “…Oh…”
Retcon shrugged in the ensuing silence. “You make-do, I guess.”
“I was going to ask if I-” Twilight blinked. “Never mind.” Her eyes bored into Retcon’s for several uncomfortable seconds. “…Heh, maybe I am paranoid.”
“Well… maybe that’s a good thing? I mean, for all you know… I could be anyone,” Retcon managed to say with a steady voice.
The polite smile started to return. “And who are you?”
“…To be honest… I’m not entirely sure. But…” She rubbed the bridge of her nose. “…My name’s Retcon, and… I like to read.”
“Hah, mare after my own heart!” Twilight’s horn lit up, pulling a few books from the shelves. “So, what sort of cookbook are you looking for?”
“Oh, um… I’m not sure,” Retcon stammered. “I mean, a friend told me how to cook something once, I wanted to know if there was more like it.”
“What did you cook?”
“Umm… Crab- oh, carbonara! Spaghetti.”
“Ooh, Neighples cuisine, can’t go wrong with that.” The books in the air around Twilight came to a halt. After a moment, all but one of the books flew back to their places on the shelves. “Try this one,” she declared, grinning. “The chef who wrote it owns a lovely restaurant in Canterlot, but this book is all about simple, easy recipes, rather than going all fancy. Could be a good place to start?”
Retcon blinked at the cover, the magenta aura vanishing as she took it into her hooves. “That’s… perfect. Thank you.”
Twilight beamed at her. “You’re welcome! Anything else I can help you with?”
“Umm…” I hadn’t really… She tucked the book under a wing. “That’s… That’s everything, I think. Umm, when do… when’s the return date?”
Twilight waved a hoof in the air. “Ah, keep it. It’s yours.”
“Wha-… You mean it?”
“Sure! Let’s say… first one’s on the house, okay? I’ll order in a new copy.”
Jaw trembling, Retcon nodded, holding her wing tighter against the book. “That’s really nice, thanks.”
Twilight inclined her head graciously. “Oh, and uh… if you ever want to talk about continuity, you’ll always find a friendly ear here.”
Retcon straightened her posture and nodded. “Thank you.”
Twilight chuckled. “Thank you, Retcon.”
As Retcon turned to leave, she noticed Twilight return to her desk, her horn alight. A sheet of paper flew out from the centre of the pile and was scrunched up into a ball in the air. Retcon didn’t linger.
She opened the front door, stepping back outside into the fresh air, the smell of rain on the breeze. As the door shut closed behind, a wave of exhaustion wasted over her, nearly causing her to lose her grip on the book. Holding out a forelimb, she leaned against the doorframe, trying to catch her breath.
…Not today, then…
It had been several days since she had last seen the cloud.
Retcon glanced up from her hot chocolate to see Sparkler making her way through the crowded café, a croissant held in her magic. Smiling, she waved a wing in greeting as the unicorn took the seat opposite. “Hey Amethyst Star.”
Sparkler rolled her eyes. “D’you have to be so formal all the time? I told you, call me Ammy.”
“Aww. But it’s a nice name.”
Sparkler snorted. “Thanks. So how’re you settling in?”
“Oh, well I guess. I have a fruit bowl now. I make sure there’s at least three different types of fruit in it at any time,” Retcon said proudly. “I also got some house plants, so the inside of the house looks like outside.”
“Hah, sounds good.” She paused a moment to glance away, taking a bite of her croissant, then leaned closer slightly. “You eating well?” she asked, her voice lowered.
Retcon nodded lightly. “I’m getting by well enough.” She tapped the sides of her forehooves together absently. She had already noticed the spread of warmth in her chest. “Mostly from what, y’know… you and Roseluck can get me, but I talk to a lot of ponies who are kind enough to offer snacks. S-small bit here and there, but it keeps me… comfortable.” A slight knitting of the brow. “Does it… Are you-”
“Pfft.” Sparkler waved a hoof dismissively. “I have one evening a week where I have two double hay burgers for dinner while lying on the couch. Okay, sure, helping you makes me a bit worn-out, but it’s way more productive than getting wasted and waking up with a hangover. Less unpleasant, too.” Her emotions tasted earnest. “It’s fine. Seriously.”
“Uh huh.” Retcon averted her eyes downward to the table. “I just… I like to be sure…” She lifted her drink with a hoof.
Sparkler rolled her eyes. “You worry too much. Look, if it becomes a problem I’ll tell you, so stop your mithering.”
“Mhmm. …You understand why I worry though, right?”
“…Yeah,” relented Sparkler, her expression fading. “I get it. Well, as best as I can, anyway.” She held eye contact. “But you understand it from my perspective too, I hope?”
Recton sighed. “…To be honest, I try not to.”
“Ah. Well there’s your problem.” She took another bite of the croissant. The busy sounds of the café washed over the two of them for several seconds. “Bet it’s tasty though,” Sparkler abruptly said with a smirk.
Retcon frowned. “What.”
“The hot chocolate,” the unicorn nodded at the mug. “Bet it tastes like it’s made with love.”
Retcon’s expression soured, and she held her mug closer.
“Come on, I’m just messing with you,” Sparkler chuckled. “Am I right, though? What am I missing out on?”
Retcon huffed, turning away. After a moment, “It tastes warm.”
“That’s not a flavour,” said Sparkler, raising an eyebrow.
“Fine…” Shaking her head, she steadied her breathing. “It’s raining. You’re home. You have a blanket over you, you’re holding a hot drink. There’s a fire in the hearth. And… someone’s thinking of you. You’re wanted.” She looked Sparkler in the eye. “That’s what it tastes like.”
Sparkler blinked. “…Woah…”
“All of that just means it tastes warm, though,” Retcon shrugged, taking a sip.
“If that’s what it’s like… I dunno, it’s weird that you fight it so much.”
Retcon drew a short breath. “I understand, but… it’s hard. There’s always that voice at the back of my brain saying I’m doing something wrong. It feels-” …This isn’t going to sound right, but I can’t think of any other way to put it. “…It feels like I… I don’t deserve it, if that makes sense.”
Sparkler paused mid-chew, her emotions souring. “…What?”
“Well, like-…” After a pause, Retcon shook her head. “Forget it.”
“No, come on.” The sensations were muddy. “You can tell me.”
Retcon sighed, turning her head away. “…You know… Do you ever get compliments, and it makes you uncomfortable? Like, it’s nice, but, at the same time, it doesn’t feel right. It feels like it’s not for me, like it’s supposed to be for someone else but I’m taking it. It feels dishonest to accept it.”
“…Yeesh…” Sparkler muttered. “…Retcon, do you trust me?”
Retcon nodded slowly. I kinda rely on you to live. Yeah I trust you.
“Alright…” Resting both forelimbs in the table, Sparkler leaned forward with an intent look in her eyes. “Then trust me when I say that you mean a lot to me, okay. Nah-ah, I don’t wanna hear it,” she cut off Retcon’s attempted response. “I mean it. We may not know each other all that well, but you’re my friend. I care about you, and I know for certain the others at work feel the same. More than you give us credit for, apparently. When somepony is offering something to you, like a compliment or whatever, it’s yours. You can have it, okay?”
Retcon nodded numbly. “O-Okay.”
“Right, because if we weren’t okay with it, you wouldn’t be able to get anything anyway.”
“Okay. Okay, okay, I get it.” …That kelpie business really stuck with you, didn’t it.
“Good.” Sparkler crosses her forelimbs, grinning lightly. “So, do you think you could maybe chill just a bit?”
“Hmm,” Retcon pretended to ponder. “I’ll think about it.”
By her expression, Sparkler seemed to approve. The busy ambience of the café filled the lapse between them as Retcon returned to her drink, and Sparkler finished her croissant.
“You know,” Sparkler started abruptly, “the fact that this worries you only shows that you’re a good person.”
“Oh stop that, please,” Retcon grumbled loudly, holding her head in her hooves. “I just said I don’t like compliments.”
Sparkler giggled. “Alright, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Her levity sobered. “So… do you not feel like you should be called a good person?”
“…I dunno. It just… It makes me uncomfortable to think about it… A bit, I guess.”
“Mmh…” Sparkler gave her a long look.
“So, how’s things at work?” Retcon asked quickly. “Everyone good?”
“Yeah, they’re all good. It’s been a bit quiet lately.” Sparkler smirked. “That suits me fine of course, but it does make me… antsy. Like something’s going to happen.” She snorted in amusement. “I think Shower feels the same way to be honest. She’s been a bit restless lately, y’know? I guess an ex-Guard doesn’t like being too idle.”
“Huh. Do you think she’d want to come visit Ponyville, if she’s not busy?” Retcon asked hopefully. “I haven’t seen her since I left.”
Sparkler gave a wry smile. “You do realise you can drop by the office whenever you like, right?” She shook her head at Retcon’s expression. “No, don’t start. You know you’re welcome to visit.”
“But I don’t want to intrude, you do important stuff there.”
“Sky offered you a job didn’t she?”
Retcon huffed. “Yeah.”
“Well then,” Sparkler concluded. “By the way, have you thought about that?”
Retcon rested a cheek on her hoof. “I’m not sure. It’s a great offer, but… I’ve only been living in the outside world for a few months. I want to learn more about it first.” She rolled her eyes. “I had too many silly questions when I was with you guys. Still learning.” She allowed herself a small smile. “Maybe though.”
Sparkler smirked. “You did good in Canterlot. You’d be a great asset to the team.”
Retcon hid a blush. What did I say about compliments…
“Hah, Gurney’s had his claws full though,” the unicorn continued, her voice dropping. “The kelpie’s been acting… weird.”
“Weird?” Retcon frowned, lifting her head in concern. “You mean aggressive?”
“Hmm, not really, no. In fact, the opposite.” Sparkler dropped her tone. “She’s been… kinda reclusive. Talking less, not even resurfacing for food.”
“She’s not eating?”
“Oh no, she’s still eating. I think she waits until Gurney leaves.” Sparkler bit the inside of her lip. “…She’s been… polite.”
“Oh.” Retcon blinked. “…That’s a big change.”
“Yeah… I dunno, I reckon she’s been thinking about things lately.”
Retcon quirked an eyebrow. “Do you think…”
“…Yeah.” Sparkler’s emotions were muddied. “I don’t know what it is, but after you spoke… Tch, sorry to bring that up.”
“He’s fine, as always. He’s been scratching his head over all this, but you know him. Always doing well, never complains about anything. Heh, too stoic for his own good. I just don’t think he’s the type to tell his problems to other people. He doesn’t like getting serious about things. I don’t think he likes talking about himself much.”
“He’s very hard to read,” Retcon nodded. “…He told me he had a sister once.”
“Wait, really?” There was a jolt in Sparkler’s emotions. “I never heard him talk about his family. What did he say?”
“Oh… Umm…” It felt so long ago… “I think… he was giving me advice on something, said his sister gave him the same advice…” Oh! “It was about-” Retcon suddenly felt very self-conscious, glancing awkwardly up into the unicorn’s eyes. “Uhmm, it was about… predator advice stuff…”
“Oh…” The notes in Sparkler danced briefly, before her expression resolved on a wolfish grin. “Oh really? You two forming your own little clique, are we? Sharing notes?”
Retcon shot her a sour look.
Sparkler sighed. “Well I hope you don’t forget about us prey creatures when you-”
“Stop it.”
Sparkler giggled. “Oh come on! I’m just messing with you!” She rolled her eyes at Retcon’s grunt in response. “Look, I’ll take it back if you lighten up, yeah?”
Looking away from the table, Retcon snorted. “I don’t think of you like that…”
“I know. And I wouldn’t care if you did.”
“Mmh…” she grunted noncommittally.
“Oh, Lemony’s moving house,” Sparkled piped up before a silence could settle.
Retcon blinked at the sudden shift. “Huh?”
“Yeah. Got her stuff packed up, she’s had the last week off work to pack. She’s lived in Canterlot… basically since college I think? As long as I’ve known her.”
“Oh. Huh.” I wish we’d been able to say goodbye properly. What was that…
“So do you know Farrier’s Croft?”
“Umm…”
“You’re on Narrow Street, right?”
Retcon frowned. “Yeah?”
Sparkler nodded. “Hm. Farrier’s Croft isn’t far.”
“Right…” I don’t…
“Anyway…” Sparkler lifted a napkin to her mouth and stood abruptly from the table. “It’s nearly three, I need to go pick up my sister from school. It’s been fun catching up though!”
“Oh! Umm…” Awkwardly Retcon stood too. “Y-Yeah. Uhh, thanks.” She managed a genuine smile. “I like talking with you, Ammy.”
Sparkler grinned. “Aww! You too!” She glanced briefly to the side. “Oh, before I go…” Her horn lit up, and an envelope appeared in her magic aura and floated gently towards Retcon. “You might want to take a look at this.”
In her surprise, Retcon felt herself reaching for her own magic for a short moment to take the letter, but caught herself. “Umm, what’s this?” she asked.
Sparkler’s eyes darted to the letter, then back to Retcon. “Someone you might be interested in talking to. Up to you though. Don’t feel like you have to.”
Retcon looked down at the letter. “Okay…”
“Think about it.” Sparkler smiled warmly. “Take care, Retcon. I’ll see you around!”
Retcon stalked down the twilit streets of Canterlot. She kept a cautious eye on the groups of ponies she passed by. They were often in groups, chatting and laughing. Some of them were loud, and she dreaded the thought of one of them talking to her.
Thankfully, nopony paid her much attention, looking for all the world like just another pony enjoying their evening. That suited her fine.
Just as the letter had stated, she spotted the sign for The Black Horse on her right halfway down the street. A bar, where other ponies gather when the sun went down to talk with one another. A place she would never have thought to visit ordinarily.
Gently pushing open the door, she glanced warily around, taking in the place. There were no more than a dozen ponies inside. Most were seated in small groups around tables, some seated at the bar.
Retcon resisted the urge to grimace. Bit busy, isn’t it?
She shook the thought from her head. Brushing her curled auburn mane from her eyes with a sandy-furred forehoof, she stepped inside, giving each stranger a quick once-over as she made her way to the bar.
“Ah, welcome!” called a voice.
Her heart leapt to her throat, but she managed to keep herself from jumping. Her attention was drawn to an orange earth pony behind the bar who was looking at her. “Uh-”
“Your’s must be a new face unless I’m very much mistaken!” the earth pony said, his emotions twisting towards the upbeat. “What can I get ya?”
Oh! He must be the place-owner and vendor of drinks. Forcing her nerves to calm, she took a seat at the bar and smiled disarmingly. “Good evening! I’m sorry, I’m kinda new, what would you recommend?”
There was a spike of pride. “Hrmm… Have you ever tried pear cider?” Retcon shook her head. “How about a half of Bramble’s Finest? It’s sourced from a lovely couple’s farm at the base of the Canterhorn. Top notch stuff, but kinda unknown ‘round here.”
Retcon nodded. “I like the sound of that, yes please.”
The earth pony grinned goofily. “One half pint of Bramble’s, comin’ up!”
Retcon paid, and turned on her seat to glance around at the bar. Holding the glass in her hoof, she tasted it cautiously. The drink was odd; sweet, though not as sweet as the canned drinks, and with a strange if not unpleasant aftertaste, feeling oddly warm despite the coolness of the drink.
Well my opener worked. Glad I figured that out ahead of time. Saying I’m new would’ve worked better if he hadn’t said that first, but I couldn’t think of anything else…
“So, night out on the town?” the earth pony asked, shuffling empty glasses around behind the bar.
Retcon shook her head. “I’m meeting someone here.”
“Oh?” He raised a brow. “Newcomer too?”
“No. I believe they’re a regular.”
“Oh indeed?”
She took another sip of her drink, nodding. “This is rather nice.”
“Well that’s good to hear,” the earth pony replied happily. “You just give me a shout if you need anything.”
Retcon smiled politely as he turned, retreating to the other end of the bar. She returned to her drink, sampling it contemplatively as she tried to marshal her nerves. The unknown location, the conversation with an overbearing stranger, no one for her to hide behind and do the talking for her, the situation was grating.
Losing herself in her thoughts, she almost jumped at the sound of voices nearby. Glancing up, she noticed a large unicorn stallion settling into a seat at the bar, a few spaces down from her. He had the white coat, blue mane and tell-tale golden armour of the Guards, but despite the uniform he was instantly recognisable. She watched out of the corner of her eye as he spoke in familiar terms with the orange earth pony and ordered a drink. Taking a larger gulp from her own, Retcon waited until the earth pony moved away before she got up with her glass, and took a seat next to the Guard.
The Guard gave her a side glance as she set her glass down. “Mind if I join you?” she asked. Her heart was hammering in her chest as the question.
The Guard set his untouched drink back down, his magic sparking out as he looked at her. “Ma’am?”
“It’s Cobalt, isn’t it?” she asked, managing not to stutter.
A light frown played at his face. “That’s right ma’am. Corporal Cobalt Storm.”
She nodded, smiling lightly. “It’s nice to meet you again.”
Concern. “I… I apologise, I’m afraid I can’t quite… Can you remind me?”
Recon glanced down at her pale forelegs. “Yeah, you won’t recognise me. Name’s Retcon.”
“Nice to meet you, Retcon,” he replied. “That’s… an unusual name.”
“Yes,” she said weakly. “It is.”
Cobalt’s expression hid the sudden flash of emotions that flared up within him. Retcon nodded along at the recognition, “Yeah, I looked a bit different at the Institute, didn’t I? Sorry I didn’t recognise you.”
Cobalt’s eyes arrowed almost imperceptibly. “…How can I help you, ma’am?”
“Well… I actually just wanted to say thank you.”
Confusion. “Huh?”
Retcon glanced around the bar. “We met here before, didn’t we?”
There were a few second before Cobalt’s eyes widened. “…Oh…”
Nodding weakly, Retcon returned to her drink, ignoring the furtive glances the orange earth pony had been surreptitiously giving them. “…You, uhh… You saved my life. I just… I wanted to say thanks.”
“I-…” Cobalt gaped. “I-… What…?”
Retcon rested her cheek on a forehoof, looking at him patiently. “I’ll give you a minute.”
Shaking his head, Cobalt turned to stare deep into his drink, brow furrowed. Wafts of various emotions sang from him, some of which were starting to give Retcon a headache. Eventually, “You were… We met here a few months ago?”
“That’s right.” According to the letter anyway. Not that I’d remember.
Cobalt frowned. “What do you mean, I saved you?”
“You listened.” Retcon lifted her head. “I was… At the time, I didn’t have much time left. You helped me, when you had every reason not to.” She glanced down at her drink, tracing the condensation with a hooftip. “I paid for this with my own money, this cider. I have a house now, and friends.” She looked him in the eye. “Friends who know what I am, and who still want to be friends. I have a life now. When we met… I didn’t. So…” She nodded idly to herself, unable to maintain eye contact. “…Thank you.”
Cobalt blinked slowly. “…Uhh…”
“Yeah. So uh, that’s all I wanted to say. Heh.” Retcon gabbed her glass and made to get up.
“…I always wondered what happened to you,” Cobalt said, halting Retcon as she stood. “…Just…” He sighed. “That was a weird night.”
Retcon snorted, after a moment settling herself back down. “I can imagine.”
Though still agitated, his emotions seemed to be levelling out at a more comfortable pitch. “…So where do you live, if you don’t mind me asking?”
“Ponyville,” she replied, smiling. “It’s nice there. Quiet.”
“Heh, it certainly sounds it.” He took a sip of his drink. “The new Princess lives there, doesn’t she?”
Retcon nodded. “She does. In a tree house.”
“Oh really?” Cobalt smirked. “Not many palaces out in the sticks, I gather?”
Retcon shrugged. “Not her style.”
Surprise. “You spoke to her?”
“Mmhmm,” she affirmed. “She’s quite nice. Likes it when you treat her like normal, not like a Princess.”
“Hah. I’m a Guard. We don’t really do that. Formality is part of the job.”
“Still, I’m just saying,” she said, grinning. “Oh, she figured me out, by the way.”
A twist of alarm. “What?”
Retcon giggled. “She’s pretty smart. I didn’t stand a chance.”
Cobalt gave her a wary side look. “So… she knows? …What happened?”
“Well…” She cradled her glass. “We just talked. I was honest with her, and… we came to an understanding.”
Cobalt nodded along. “I see…”
Retcon smiled at him. “Thanks for not freaking out, by the way.”
He looked back at her appraisingly. “Thank you for being honest.”
“I’d be dead had I not,” she said wryly.
Cobalt hummed. “…Do you… find enough food?”
“I do, yes, thank you. I have friends who are… okay with helping.” She suppressed a grin. “You can relax, by the way, I’m getting nothing from you.”
“…R-Right.” Momentary sourness.
“…Have you come across anyone else like me?” she asked tentatively.
“…No. No one else yet.”
“Hrm…”
Cobalt gave her a look. “Have you?”
Retcon shook her head. “No.”
“It’s only a matter of time though, right?”
“Right.” She sighed. “…It would be nice to know what happened I guess.” Find out what a real changeling is like. Would we get along? …Would anyone know me? Who was I back then? I know it doesn’t matter, but… I’m curious about where I came from, even if it doesn’t define me anymore. She gave Cobalt a hard look. “You’ll let me know if you do though, right? Me or the Institute. If I can live here like normal, then… Well…”
Cobalt nodded, a smile gradually forming. “I can do that.”
