Changeling Theory

by Muggonny

First published 8th of March, 2021

Something strange is happening at the School of Friendship.

The epiphany didn’t hit right away. It lingered in the back of Starlight’s mind for several years, and only on one other occasion did the thought occur. The first was when Sunburst got his cutie mark. However, that was a blur, like a railway sign from the window of a speeding train. The second was now...

A very special thanks to MissytheMungDaal and semillon for the edits! Cover art is by the wonderful Maren.

*This story is loosely based off of the one-shot Primal Instinct. Loosely. That means don't read it.

Chapter 1 - Midnight

Time travels. To speed up time is to age at a pace so fast that the present loses its sense of awareness. Days are quicker to turn dark, and the same annual holiday parties feel recent.

The epiphany didn't hit right away. Instead, it lingered in the back of Starlight's mind for several years, and only on one other occasion did the thought occur. It was when Sunburst got his cutie mark. That was a blur, like a railway sign from the window of a speeding train. The second was now.

Thoughts tumbled, crashing together like waves upon a jagged cliff. A quill hovered halfway between her horn and the stack of papers on her desk. The realization hit: this would be the last batch of midterm papers she'd be grading for the School of Friendship's first generation of students. After this, there would be a week left of school before everycreature departed for Hearths Warming break, and then they would return for their last semester.

A whole generation grew up in front of Starlight, and she didn't notice. How could she? Her mind was occupied with saving Equestria, counseling, and friendship problems; all while trying to manage her own life, too. The thought of several creatures becoming a passing glance from a speeding train never occurred once. Soon, she will say goodbye to this generation, and she will say goodbye to the next generation. And so on, until…

STOP! a desperate voice screamed in the back of her mind, and she had a sudden craving for some herbal mint tea. Perhaps it would soothe her nerves?

Starlight shakily got up from behind her desk and shuffled over to the hotplate sitting on the counter on the other side of the room. The thoughts didn't leave, even as she turned the knob to its highest setting. Hovering the tea kettle next to her ear, she shook it, listening for a sloshing sound. Nothing replied.

Starlight looked at the water cooler next to the counter and breathed an annoyed sigh. The jug was empty. She would need a new one if she wanted to fill the kettle. The teacher's lounge was right down the hall, and by the time she got back and replaced the jug, the hotplate would be warm enough. Besides, it would be a good opportunity to give her brain a break from the copious grading she was already drowning in.

As she walked down the hall, she could make out light coming from the teacher's lounge. The door hung slightly ajar, as if whoever went in tried to shut it but was too lazy to do it all the way… Or someone was in a hurry to get in and get out. Immediately, thoughts of students sneaking away with armfuls of the pantry cronuts she kept stowed away behind the styrofoam cups ran through her mind. Students enjoying donuts in their dorms after dark and showing off their snacks to their friends. She had her reasons for immediately jumping to this conclusion. It's happened before and it's bound to happen again.

Starlight carried herself as quickly as her tired mind was willing to let her. Perhaps she could still catch them in on the act? As she got closer, she did her best to listen for rumbling, the sound of hoofsteps, talonsteps — any sign whatsoever — that somecreature was still in the room. She heard nothing but a subtle drip, drip — drip, drip —

The coffeemaker. It was the sound of coffee being brewed. Starlight felt stupid. What kind of student would get up in the middle of the night to brew some coffee? She wanted to kick herself for allowing her tired mind to get in the way of her judgment. The only pony that would be brewing coffee this late would also be the only faculty member living in the school after taking up residence in ex-Headmare Twilight's dorm room.

Pushing the door open, Starlight's eyes immediately met the coffeemaker. By now the pot was filled halfway, and give it another two minutes, it would be full. However, there was a different cause for concern now: where was—

"Trixie?" Starlight called.

In the middle of the lounge was the table, and on it sat an opened bag of Potato Crispies that looked as if it had been tossed there, judging by the way some of the chips spilled over the edge and onto the floor.

Starlight walked around the table to examine the mess and breathed a frustrated sigh. "Trixie…"

Whatever happened in here made Trixie run out of the room without bothering to clean up after herself. It was typical behavior coming from her, but Starlight had come to expect better by now. Still, it didn't explain what reason she left the room for —

Someone screamed.

Starlight swiveled to face the window on the side of the lounge that peered out into the courtyard. Outside, snow swirled in every direction. Between the thin veil of white tendrils and the frost on the glass, all she could see was the black of night.

If that’s Trixie… Starlight thought. If that was Trixie's scream then Starlight already had several questions, but when she turned away, she saw the answer to one of them. Hanging on the coat rack, next to the door all nice and dry, was Trixie's parka.

Starlight's already tired mind became all the more muddled. Did Trixie go outside without putting on her parka? None of it made any sense, but she was starting to get the gist of it: something happened and Trixie ran out in a hurry, a desperate enough of a hurry for her to not put on the proper gear to protect herself against the snow.

Starlight was out of the lounge in seconds, running down to the courtyard entrance. Just as she reached the double doors, they slammed open, and the pale blue form of Trixie stumbled in. Breathing heavily and shivering.

"Trixie!" Starlight yelled.

Trixie looked up at Starlight with a start. Her mane glittered with snow, and her mouth gaped in an attempt to say something. "S-Starlight." Her face told Starlight several things at once: Trixie had been out in the cold for some time, she was probably succumbing to hypothermia, and something had spooked her.

"Trixie, what's going on?"

Trixie shot a hoof toward the pair of double doors she came through. It jittered in the air uncontrollably.

Starlight placed a hoof on Trixie's shoulder. "What did you see out there?"

"I… I…" she regained some of her composure, but only enough to bring back her character. "Trixie saw… Starlight," she gulped. "Please don't go out there." Starlight stepped away from Trixie and moved toward the doors. "Don't!" Trixie screamed. "You — you're not even wearing a jacket."

Starlight sighed. Horn igniting, a bright turquoise glow appeared around her body. "There," she said. "I just used a body temperature spell. That should protect me from the cold for a few minutes."

Trixie stared back at Starlight, her face growing older and paler. "It's not safe."

"Really, Trixie, it's fine. My body should hold up against the snow. Now, what did you see out there?"

"I don't know. Why don't we go get the guards instead?"

Starlight shook her head and turned to the doors. She expected Trixie to yell, "Stop!" and feel the coldness of her hoof against her shoulder, but that didn't happen. As she made a movement to open the door and pressed her hoof against its surface, Starlight looked back. The mare didn't make any movement to stop Starlight but only quivered further away from the door as if it would grow teeth and swallow her up. She pushed it open.

Tree branches that she could barely see were swaying, limbs croaking from being thrown in all directions. The blizzard howled. Starlight trudged through snow that must have been three feet deep. Part of her regretted not grabbing her winter gear, but she also knew that would've wasted time. Based on Trixie's reaction, Starlight wanted to investigate this immediately.

The most aggravating part about navigating through a snowstorm wasn't having her own mane come back and whip her in the face, but that there was no sense of direction. Starlight looked back at her prints and saw that they filled in almost as quickly as they formed. Bringing her head up, she searched through the darkness.

Thin swirls danced everywhere, but none told her where to go. The courtyard was only fifty square feet, so looking for the thing that had Trixie terrified shouldn't have been that hard. And, if the body temperature spell wore off, all Starlight would have to do is recast it.

It started in a straight direction, but all she met was the door to the East Wing. Starlight let out a frustrated sigh. It came out like a plume of fog that got whisked away by the wind. The body temperature spell wore off gradually, and although she still had another seven minutes, she could already feel the icy powder biting her hooves. She had to be quick.

Turning in the other direction, she started again. This time after walking a few feet, she took a turn to the right so as not to end up back at the entrance. And, this time, she was met with nothing but a wall.

She lost all sense of navigation. After the fifth attempt, even after lighting up her horn to surround the snow in a turquoise glow, the air was far too thick with winter's dandruff to make anything out.

Her mind wandered to the stack of papers on her desk that needed grading, followed by the burner set on its highest setting in anticipation of a kettle. Realizing that she would get nowhere, she breathed a contemptuous sigh. "Sorry, Trixie…"

Whatever it was that had Trixie scared, it couldn't be anything drastic. Trixie did have a tendency to over-worry sometimes. Just a few days prior she woke Starlight up because she thought a chimera had found its way into her wagon and was waiting for her. It turned out to be a bobcat from Fluttershy's cottage, and a friendly one at that, that had found the barrel of apples she kept in the farthest corner.

This was just like the apple incident, so far as Starlight could see. She looked the courtyard up and down and didn't find anything. The only thing she could chalk Trixie's reaction up to was a bad case of night fright. Yes, that had to be it. Trixie must have thought she heard something outside.

It all made sense now. Trixie ran outside to investigate the noise and got spooked by something she saw. What Trixie thought she saw must have been so indescribable that she couldn't find the words to tell Starlight what it was.

There was nothing to be found. Trixie was imagining things. Starlight was going to go back inside and jokingly remark about how this was just like the apple incident and then continue grading papers. The image of herself sitting comfortably in her office chair with steam rising from a paper cup beside her resonated, and she finally took notice of how cold it was.

The spell hadn't completely worn off. It was enough to make the ice beneath her hooves bearable, but the raging wind was much too irksome. That won't matter. She could just cast another body temperature spell and find her way back inside.

Starlight pushed forward and quickly met a wall. She took a left and pursued onward, and she soon met another wall. Starlight traversed it, occasionally feeling a hoof along its surface in search of a door. She eventually found it and gave a light budge. Locked.

It was like every other door in the vicinity had disappeared after that. Starlight wandered around the courtyard aimless and distraught. A sense of urgency rose in her chest and her hooves picked up waves of snow as she tried to run. Several times she had to narrowly avoid a tree branch, the only giveaway being that some limbs were sticking out from the surface of the snow.

She cast the body temperature spell for the third time. The beautiful warmth of a fire resonated within her body again, and she thought about how nice it would be to stand over the kettle with its lid off, steam wafting into the air and in her face. That thought felt far away, and her heart quickened. How do I get out of here?

In all of her panic to get back indoors, Starlight wasn't looking where she was going, and it happened — she tripped over the tree branch that she narrowly avoided on more than one occasion. She was running aimlessly when her hoof collided and met a faceful of snow.

Starlight grunted, wondering why she had been so antsy. She was more aggravated than antsy. Yes, aggravated. She had wasted over twenty minutes of precious time she could have spent working, and here she was chasing a nonexistent ghost for Trixie.

"I'm going to strangle that mare," she grumbled as she got up, and she realized that something wasn't right. It was the way her hindleg brushed against the surface of the branch. The branch. A branch that was far too soft to be a branch.

Starlight rose from the snow, turning toward the limb sticking out of the surface. She could only make out a silhouette in the darkness. Igniting her horn, she recognized it immediately: it was a hoof.

Someone was buried beneath the snow.

Anxiety took over. Starlight began shoveling icy powder left and right until there were uneven hills everywhere. The body wasn't buried deep, because she could make out a chest after the first foot. Wrapping her hooves around its shoulders, she pulled.

What Starlight saw next she would later be forced to recount to the police in all of its glorious detail. From walking into the lounge and finding the mess, to hearing a scream outside and going to investigate it — the part that would traumatize her most upon recounting the horrible experience was when she looked into the cold, dead eyes of ex-student Lemongrass and realized the top of her head was gone.

Starlight screamed. Lemongrass's limp form lolled to the ground with a resounding thud. How long had she been out here? Could Starlight have saved her if she was a few minutes early? The answer was probably no. No. Yes, of course NO. The body had been out here a lot longer than just a few minutes based on the frozen look forever etched onto Lemongrass's face.

Lemongrass died hours ago. Starlight's eyes filled with tears as she realized this was the reason why Trixie ran inside in a panic, lost for words. She too was shocked by the uncanny death of a student. Lemongrass was missing her scalp. An insane part of Starlight wanted to look in. See if all the brain matter was scooped out as well. She pushed this thought to the back of her mind. Ha, speaking of minds…

Starlight shook her head and tried to register where such a thought came from. Perhaps it was some conscience buried deep down inside of her that was trying to find comfort in the most insane way possible? Whatever it was, she knew what she had to do next: she needed to go back inside, comfort Trixie for however long it took to calm her down, find the nearest police station, and promptly write a letter to Twilight that a student at her school was deceased. She was already writing it in her head. It said, Dear Twilight, followed by a bunch of gibberish that her mind couldn't find the ability to even form into tangible words.

Her hooves were weighted to the ground. Starlight wanted to go back inside and get this over with, but the reminder that she failed to keep one of her students safe rendered her immobile. How could she simply leave after finding Lemongrass lying dead in the courtyard? Starlight deserved whatever the forces of nature bore down on her.

Lemongrass, whose midterm paper was the second to be graded and had achieved a remarkable score of one hundred. Lemongrass, who two weeks prior had come into Trixie's office talking about how she was afraid to be around the other students because she feared not being accepted. Lemongrass, who upon —

Crunch

Starlight swiveled around so fast that she threw up snow in a semi-spiral. That noise. The cranium. The cold, dead eyes of ex-student Lemongrass. Starlight's heart dropped low in her chest as she realized that she was not alone.

"Trixie?" she called.

Crunch, crunch, the noise responded.

"Trixie," Starlight said again, hesitation seeping into her voice. "Are you there?"

The wind continued its frightening howl. Starlight was about to breathe a thankful sigh of relief that it was nothing but the wind, yes, obviously the wind, when it sounded again.

Crunch, Crunch, Crunch

This time it was much closer… and Starlight realized that there was something in the courtyard with her.

Panic rising, Starlight did the only thing she could think to do and flared her horn. The area around her erupted with turquoise, and as the light above her head emanated, Starlight could have sworn she saw it — the silhouette of a tall, slender creature receding further into the darkness.

The air filled with a sharp wail and Starlight recoiled back. Without thinking, she shot a magic beam in its direction. The air erupted in an even louder, piercing wail and the crunching of snow resounded. Cruch, Crunch, Crunch.

She fell back, practically dragging her legs through the snow. Waves of icy powder were picked up by the horrid winds and flew back into her face. She had to blink her eyes fleetingly several times, but she never quit. She had to make it back to the doors. The doors. Any door will do at this point. It could be the doors to the west wing or the doors to the east wing. It could be the door for the restroom for all she cared. She would take any route possible to get out of this courtyard.

Crunch, crunch, crunch, crunch.

It was following her. Twisting her head back, she shot another magic beam into the darkness, followed by another, and another. The courtyard was soon filled with stray, shimmering lines of turquoise, but none hit the way the first one did. Absolutely none.

Just when Starlight lost all hope that she would never make it out, she found it: the doors she came through. Handles glowing, Starlight promptly... Starlight promptly... Starlight promptly…

They were locked. Her pursuer was getting closer. The seconds filled with dread as Starlight thought this might be the final moments of her life. She had to improvise. So, gathering magic into her horn until an orb the size of a volleyball formed above her head, she threw the doors wide open.

It was the understatement of the century. Starlight blew the doors off their hinges. They slammed into the walls on the other side with such a force that they shattered, showering splinters in every direction. One even got into Starlight's eye. It didn't stab her cornea so much as made it itch. Quite a bit.

Starlight was now running down the hallways of the School of Friendship half-blind. Blears of light shone through her eyes. Doors swept by like railway signs on a speeding train. She knew she needed somewhere to hide and fast, somewhere that she wouldn't have to blow another door off its hinges.

The answer became clear to her almost as soon as she saw it. Not looking back, Starlight took a hard right into the teacher's lounge and slammed the door shut. She locked the door for added measure, although she knew nothing about how it would fare against a gangly beast.

She stood away from the door, readying herself for anything that might come through. If anything did come through, she would charge her magic to its fullest potential — more like enough to not cause severe property damage — and blast that student-murdering machine out of existence.

"Starlight?"

Starlight's heart thudded in her chest. At the same time that she let out a loud, "Eep!" a beam shot from her horn and the coffee maker exploded into a thousand pieces. She turned, and her breathing died down a notch when she saw that it was Trixie.

"Whoa, uh…" Trixie looked at Starlight uncomfortably. She sat in the chair that was previously on its back, a chip that had presumably been aimed for her mouth laying on the table in front of her. "Is everything okay?"

"Trixie, you were right. There's something out there!"

Trixie stared at Starlight for a moment as if to register what she just said, and then her face scrunched up with confusion. "What?"

Starlight swallowed some saliva. Her mouth felt dry. Very dry. "I was out in the courtyard for an hour. Well, it wasn't an hour, but it might as well have been!"

Starlight sat at the table across from Trixie, bursting into tears again. Trixie's confused expression grew even harder, and she looked around the room, not quite sure what to do.

"I kept walking around and around," Starlight continued. "I must have cast the spell over a dozen times. I was lost in some sort of maze and thought I would never find my way out, then I found it. I found Le — I found Lemon…" She swallowed again, trying to find a way to say I found Lemongrass with her top popped off. "I found what you found and something more…"

"Starlight."

"I don't know what it was, but I'm sure I saw it. It's… a thing…"

“Starlight.”

"It chased me through the courtyard. I wasn't supposed to get out but I did. I don't know how. I got out and ran down the hall and into here and now —"

“Starlight!”

Her reality was slapped back together by one swift hoof dealt by Trixie. She stood over Starlight, staring her in the face. At first, Trixie gave her a look of consideration, but it quickly turned into concern when she realized that Starlight was calmed down.

"You look like you need some water," she said and walked over to the sink. Floating a coffee mug off the draining rack, she filled it up and brought it over to Starlight, who took it into her hooves.

She took a sip. "You were right. We need to get the guards."

Trixie tilted her head. "Are you okay?"

Starlight nodded. "Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. I'm not hurt or anything. We'll get the guards and —"

"No, I don't mean physically. I mean…" Trixie bit her lips, trying to find a way to express her words. Finally, she settled on twirling a hoof alongside her head.

"W-what, no! I'm fine. What are you going on about?"

"Trixie would like to know what you're going on about! First, you say you saw me come out of the courtyard, then you get lost out there, then say that you got chased by something I presume that you presume was a monster of some sort, and you come in here spouting nonsense! Starlight, I love you and you're my friend. I think you were out there for a little too long."

Starlight babbled dumbfoundedly. "You — you were right there in front of me. How could you not…"

Trixie shook her head. "I haven't gone outside at all, Starlight," she said. "I've been inside all night."

"B-but, I came in here and there was a mess and —"

Trixie looked away from Starlight sheepishly. "Yeah… that was mine. Sorry. I spilled a bunch of chips on the floor. I had to find a supply closet for a broom."

"So you didn't see anything?"

"No."

Several thoughts danced through Starlight's head in the form of images. The mess in the lounge, followed by a traumatized Trixie, followed by the stony face of Lemongrass, and finally the silhouette of the creature. None of it made sense. None of it could make any sense at that moment. Not at the moment as Starlight's entire world was crumbling apart.

Her mind became a jigsaw puzzle. If she had the time to do so, she would put it all together, but at that moment the pieces were scattered. Time had stopped completely for Starlight Glimmer.

Chapter 2 - Speculations

“Ocellus, wake up!” Silverstream yelled.

Ocellus groaned and rolled onto her belly, face pressed into her pillow. This was a methodical procedure she used to put up with her personalized alarm clock when it split the curtains open a few minutes too early in the morning. On this particular day, the alarm clock’s snooze was broken.

“Ocellus, get up. It’s Thursday!”

She lifted her head from the pillow, eyes still closed. “Yesterday was Thursday,” she mumbled. “Today is Friday.” Her head fell back with a muffled thump.

Silverstream gasped. “Even better!”

A cool wind washed over her as Silverstream presumably took to the air, and Ocellus knew she had a few more minutes of shuteye before the hippogriff would come blaring back. She dragged her blanket over her head, blocking out the stern veil of light that tried to burrow through her eyelids. Despite how tired she was, she couldn’t sleep.

Silverstream woke up a few minutes earlier than necessary. It was customary for the excitable hippogriff to do that on special days. Without eyeing the clock, Ocellus figured that it was nearing seven o’clock. That would be just dandy because she went to bed at nine o’clock—an hour before her actual bedtime. So, for as well-rested as she should have been, why was she still tired?

Yesterday’s events invaded her mind. They got out of classes early because it was test day, then she spent the day with Silverstream, and then she and Silverstream had the talk.

“No, not that—gross!” Ocellus had blurted out last night during their game of Candy Land.

The talk. The version with juicy gossip. “Like, o’mygosh, did you know..” and the like. The talk eventually ended with a ubiquitous decision that the deed discussed during said the talk needed to be settled today, or what was the point in having it? There was the next week, sure, but today was today, of all days!

And that was pretty much it. They both went to bed early and nothing else happened the rest of the night. She didn’t even get up to use the bathroom.

As Ocellus laid in bed, she stretched out her body, enjoying the warm strain that flowed through her back and leg muscles. She opened her eyes, giving them a moment to adjust to the sunlit room. If it was up to her, she would have stayed in bed all morning, but the excited clambering in the bathroom, among other things, kept her awake. She had a decision to make: sleep in until classes started or be a productive member of society. The choice wasn’t easy.

During her morning routine, Ocellus walked around the dorm, hooves shuffling and eyes bleary. She cleaned up most of the mess from last night, but for a minute she was so brain dead that she stood in place and nearly ogled off to sleep. She snapped out of her zombish, drool-dribbling stupor when she heard the bathroom doorknob turn.

She immediately went back to putting board game pieces into their box. Silverstream came out of the bathroom, feathers damp and groomed, and she smelled like a lavender-infused concoction.

Seeing that the bathroom was open, Ocellus hurriedly placed the board game on top of her armoire and went inside. She started a long shower. It was probably ten minutes when Silverstream knocked on the door and yelled, “Hurry, we’ll miss breakfast!”

She shivered, cold water running down her face. She was so busy trying to wake up that she didn’t think to clean herself. Switching to hot water, she stood in the shower for another minute before turning it off completely and drying herself with a towel.

“You took your time in there,” Silverstream acknowledged with her usual gleeful smile as Ocellus was coming out. A pair of saddlebags sat on her bed, packed and ready for the day. The hippogriff was shuffling through the armoire on her side of the room, looking for something to wear.

“Sorry, I’m a little tired this morning.” Ocellus emphasized the statement with a yawn.

“Oh! Did you not sleep that well?” Silverstream asked. She settled on a blue wool sweater and worked to fit it over her head.

“I slept very well, I think.” Ocellus levitated her cerulean parka with tufts of white faux fur sprouting from the hood off the coat rack next to her armoire and slid it on. After zipping up, she focused her magic on the saddlebags sitting at the foot of her bed and set them over her back. “Do you remember if I got up during the night?”

Silverstream shrugged. “Beats me. I was asleep.” Ocellus could now see the yellow font stitched onto the blue wool sweater that read I ♡ Fillydelphia. The hippogriff struggled for a moment to fit her wing through the slot in the back before it finally poked through. Giving a satisfied smile, Silverstream picked her saddlebags off the bed and threw them over her back.

“It doesn’t matter. I can get some coffee in the cafeteria.” While it’d stop the grogginess, Ocellus knew that her brain would be running on a slight delay all day.

She stepped out into the hall, Silverstream hovering in the air behind her. “So, are you going to do it today?” Ocellus asked as they passed the other dorms. She wasn’t in the mood for talking at the moment but thought it would be awkward to leave the air silent.

Silverstream appeared next to her, tapping her beak. “Eh, I’m not sure if I should. It doesn’t seem right.”

Ocellus looked up at Silverstream, head tilted and brow raised. “What do you mean?”

“Isn’t it weird for a girl to ask a boy out? I’ve never heard of that.”

Ocellus shook her head. “Just because it’s a social norm doesn’t mean it has to be followed. Besides, I’m sure Gallus will gather up the courage to ask you out himself sometime before the break starts.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah! At least show him you’re interested. Flirting, certain gestures, simply sitting next to him—”

“Ooo! what’s that?”

Silverstream halted mid-air, Ocellus stopping just a little bit ahead of her. She didn’t have to look at Silverstream’s jaggedly pointing claw to notice the two Royal Guards standing on either side of the tall wooden double doors at the end of the corridor.

“I don’t know,” Ocellus said, throwing a worried look in the direction of the guards.

Silverstream landed next to her, still looking ahead. “Think they’ll tell us if we ask them?”

“We can try.”

They walked over and stopped a few meters away from the wooden double doors. Ocellus made a glance at both of the guards and asked, “Excuse me, why are you here?”

“We are tasked to guard the students until all commotion has been cleared,” the guard to their left said in a very gruff voice.

“Per Princess Twilight’s demands,” the guard to their right added.

“Oh, okay.” Ocellus said. “So what’s going on?”

The guard on the left said, “That will be disclosed during Monday announcements.”

“Per Headmare Starlight’s demands,” the guard on their right added.

Silverstream took a hesitant step forward. “So, can we go outside? Pretty please?”

“You may,” the guard on the left said. “However, neither of you are allowed to leave the premises for the day.”

“Per Headmare Starlight’s demands,” the guard on their right added. Ocellus was really starting to not like that guard.

“Oh no!” Silverstream whined. A bit of sadness seeped into her voice. “That means we can’t do movie night at the Castle of the Two Sisters as we planned!”

Ocellus waved her hoof for Silverstream to calm down. “We still have the weekend.”

As Ocellus pushed open the door and took that first step out into the courtyard. The guard to her left said, “Stay out of the other guards’ way.”

She found out what he meant when they were outside. Two guards stood on either side of each door that led into the different wings. The ones that weren’t guarding doors, were busy shoveling snow into giant mounds. Metal stakes with little red flags attached to the top of them were inserted into the surface next to where there were holes.

Ocellus blinked, trying to register the scene. Silverstream walked up beside her, and without looking she could perfectly imagine the hippogriff opening her beak in brief shock before commenting on what they both saw. Before she could, however, a gruff voice erupted from behind them.

“Nothing to see here.” One of the guards caught their attention. The two guarding the dormhouse from the outside had noticed them eyeing the scene. “Move along.”

And they did, with an air of confusion. On their way to the east wing, Ocellus noticed something from across the courtyard.

Leaning toward Silverstream, she whispered, “The doors to the west wing are missing.”

Silverstream’s eyes widened. When they arrived at the east wing entrance, she managed to get a glimpse and realized that they were, in fact, “...Gone.” Silverstream muttered. She turned back to Ocellus. “They really are gone.”

“What do you think happened?” Ocellus asked.

After arriving in the cafeteria, grabbing their food, and sitting at their table, Smolder asked the same question. Silverstream gave both Ocellus and Smolder the credible answer of, “I don’t know.”

“What if there was a murder?” Smolder mused. Everyone at the table could tell that she was joking. Well, everyone except for Silverstream, who straightened up at the word “murder” and began to tap her claws against the table’s surface with a nervous rhythm.

“Unlikely,” Ocellus replied as she hovered her coffee close to herself, allowing the steam to gently caress her face. “Ponyville has some of the lowest crime rates in Equestria. It’s highly unlikely you’d get robbed in the middle of the night, much less murdered.”

Smolder crossed her arms and leaned back in her chair. “Hey, there’s a first for everything.”

“Maybe some creatures from the Everfree, like, snuck onto school grounds?” Sandbar suggested, before going back to sipping his strawberry milk with a bendy straw.

Ocellus took a sip from her coffee. “Maybe. It makes sense that there would be a few guards for protection then, but a whole cavalry unit? This seems a bit excessive.”

“Yeah, they’re all over the school,” Smolder said. She flicked a claw between Ocellus and Silverstream. “You two meet the guards in the dormhouse?”

Ocellus gave her a tired nod, and Silverstream gave her an enthusiastic, “Yup!”

Smolder chuckled. “Heh, I gave those dickholes a difficult time.”

Ocellus levitated the fork that was next to her porridge and jabbed Smolder in the paw. “Ow!” Smolder yelled, even though the fork was plastic and wouldn’t puncture dragon scales. She pulled her paw back and rubbed it.

“Language,” Ocellus said sternly, eyes half-lidded. She took another sip of coffee.

Smolder pointed toward Ocellus with the stabbed paw. “Are you waiting for that to cool down or something?”

“Hm?” Ocellus looked down at the styrofoam cup filled with coffee in her hooves for a moment before she realized that Smolder was actually talking about the untouched bowl of porridge in front of her that was beginning to crust over. “Oh, no. You can have it.”

A blue aura appeared around the bowl and it slid across the table. Smolder leaned forward, a greedy smile on her face, and pushed her own empty bowl out of the way. She had grabbed her spoon from off the table when she gave Ocellus a credulous look. “You aren’t hungry?”

“I’m a changeling,” Ocellus said. “I don’t have to eat food. I can just feed off everyone.”

“So what’s the point in getting food then if you’re not going to eat it?”

Ocellus set her coffee down on the table. “You’ve seen me eat before. Why does this surprise you?”

“I know, but I need to clarify. Why?”

“Why do I eat food?” Ocellus shrugged. “I like the taste. It smells nice, too.”

Sandbar shuffled forward, his windbreaker rustling. “So, do you digest it like everyone else or does it go straight to your — “

Ocellus held up a hoof. “I’ll stop you right there. It gives me the energy to function, although love is preferable because it’s what powers my magic. Besides, eating is a good social activity.”

Smolder took a big, droopy spoonful and shoved it into her mouth. “Well, I’m loving this porridge,” she said with her mouth full. “Can you taste that?”

Ocellus shook her head and picked her coffee up with both hooves. “My receptors are off right now.” She took another sip.

“You aren’t hungry at all?” Sandbar asked.

“No. I guess I had a big dinner.”

Smolder’s brow jolted upward. “You guess?”

“It varies. Creatures pour out different amounts of feelings.” And she guessed most of that “big dinner” stemmed from her conversation with Silverstream about Gallus last night.

Smolder shoved another spoonful of porridge into her mouth. “Changelings are weird.”

Ocellus poked her with the fork again.

“Ow!”

“So what are we going to do about movie night?” Sandbar interjected. Silverstream perked up hopefully, and Smolder kept a mutual expression.

“I think we’re going to have to schedule that for the weekend,” Ocellus said.

“Aww, I was really looking forward to it.” Sandbar laid his hooves onto the table and balanced his chin over them. “I’ve been really wanting to try out that old projector.”

Silverstream reached over the table to give him a comforting pat on his head. It looked more like she was petting a puppy. “I know, but hey, Saturdays are great too. They’re like a second Friday!”

“Yeah, but it sucks to cancel plans.”

Speaking of plans. Ocellus had finished off her coffee and set the styrofoam cup on the table. The moment she did, she saw a blur of blue and brown entering the cafeteria from the corner of her eye.

Gallus, wearing a raggy green wool sweater that looked itchy, sat down next to Ocellus with his own paper bowl and milk. Yona sat between Smolder and Sandbar setting her food down on the table. “What’s going on out there?” Gallus asked through a spoonful of porridge.

“Beats me,” Smolder said. “We were just trying to figure that out.”

“Any ideas?”

“A murder.”

Ocellus jabbed her with the fork again.

“Quit it!”

Ocellus turned to Gallus. “I’m pretty sure it’s not a murder. We think a creature from the Everfree might have snuck onto school grounds.”

“Or into the school?” Sandbar added.

“Sure.”

“Why ponies afraid of animal?” Yona slammed a hoof against the table. Smolder had just enough time to snatch her bowl up before its contents spilled out. “Yak need no protection against puny creature!”

“You say that,” Smolder replied, “but those puckwudgies gave you a good scare.”

“Puckwudgies, schmuckwudgies!” Yona blurted. “That three years ago.”

“There was also that mouse in your dorm room earlier this month,” Silverstream pointed out.

Smolder shook her spoon with agreement in Silverstream’s direction. “Oh yes, the mouse! Can’t forget the mouse!”

Yona opened her mouth, fixing to drop a retort when she got interrupted.

“May I have everyone’s attention?”

The chatting in the cafeteria died down to whispers, and all heads turned toward the entrance, where Trixie stood with a stern face. “Trixie is sure everycreature wants to know what the fuss is about.” A few creatures mumbled in agreement. “The guards will be here for the remainder of the day. Absolutely nocreature is allowed to leave school grounds unless authorized and supervised by a member of staff.”

Confused faces blossomed everywhere. Gallus leaned into Ocellus’s ear and whispered, “What’s going on?”

Ocellus only shook her head and shushed him.

“Because of the severity of the situation, we have permitted all classes for today to be canceled so that the matter can be dealt with.” Many of the confused faces turned into excitement, but not Ocellus’s. Hers became one of calm focus. She was still caught up in ‘the severity of the situation’. “You are free to move around the school but must listen to the guards. It is for the safety of everyone.”

The excited faces on some of the students loosened at the acknowledgment that they had to be ordered around by strangers, but not by much. “Everything will be explained during Monday's announcements. If you have any inquiries…” Her stern face faltered into worry, and her voice lowered. “My office is always open.”

~•~

After Trixie’s announcement in the cafeteria, and after finishing breakfast, Ocellus and her friends debated on where to relax. They couldn’t hang out in the dormhouse because boys and girls aren’t allowed in each other’s rooms, and they couldn’t get ten yards outside of the school without running into a guard. Sneaking out was out of the equation.

They settled on the next most comfortable place to have a chill time: the library. During the entire walk there, they theorized about what the situation in the courtyard was about.

“Still betting on a murder!” Smolder joked for the third time, getting promptly ignored by everyone.

They found a table next to the biography section. The moment they sat and settled down on comfortable pillows, Sandbar, still standing, said, “I’m going to take a look around.” and headed toward the nonfiction section.

“I’m pretty sure it was a prank,” Gallus said, scratching a spot on his right shoulder where the raggy green sweater made it itch.

Ocellus squinted at him. “I’m pretty sure Princess Twilight has better things to do other than sending her guards after some vandal.”

“Well, think about it this way. Princess Twilight used to be headmare, and she founded the school. Also, since she became leader of Equestria, not much has happened. I’m just saying, she’s bored.”

Ocellus grimaced at the thought of Twilight Sparkle getting bored. “What do you mean bored? She’s running a country.”

“While you two are duking it out,” Smolder interrupted. She stretched her arms into the air and yawned. “I’m going to catch up on some Zs.”

Gallus played a coy smile. “That’s right, let’s stop arguing. The dragon needs her beauty sleep.”

Smolder scowled at him. “If I weren’t tired I’d set your head on fire.”

She crossed her arms over the table and laid her head down. Smolder began snoring the moment she closed her eyes.

Gallus felt a tap on his shoulder.

“Let’s go look at the books.” Ocellus said, nudging her head to the right like she had a nervous tic.

“Can’t,” Gallus said. “I already have too many books checked out.”

“Yeah, but I just want to look at them.” She nudged her head in that same odd way again.

Gallus scrunched up his face at her. “Is something wrong?”

“I just… want to…” She did it several more times, and Gallus realized that Ocellus was nudging her head in Silverstream’s direction, who was locked in conversation with Yona.

“Ah. Yeah, let’s go.”

They stood up from their pillows. Silverstream gave the both of them an, “Okay, hurry back!” before veering back into a conversation with Yona.

The two arrived in an aisle that still provided a view of the table, although it was distant enough that they could not be heard. So long as they didn’t speak at a loud volume, that is.

“So what do you think it was?” Gallus asked as he ran his claw along a line of book spines.

“What do I think what was?”

“The thing that happened in the courtyard.”

“Oh. I’m not sure. But did you find it weird that they were digging through the snow?”

Gallus placed a claw over the corner of one book and slid it out a bit diagonally, examining it unconsciously. “So they were digging through the snow. They were probably just clearing it.” He slid the book back in. “Do you expect them to stand in it all day?”

Ocellus found a dark crimson book that interested her, and she levitated it off the shelf, flipping through its pages. “No, I don’t. But there were a lot of guards’ out there just… prodding.”

“Prodding?”

She shut the book and fit it back into its slot. “There were divots everywhere. If they were trying to clear the snow, they were doing an odd job.”

“I noticed that too.”

“Any idea what they were looking for?”

Gallus shrugged and continued skimming his claw along the book spines on a lower shelf. “Beats me. It’s hard to get an idea of what when we don’t even know what happened last night.”

Ocellus glanced away from the bookshelf and toward their table. Silverstream was chatting up a storm with Yona. A small puddle of drool had formed from Smolder’s leaky mouth where she slept. Sleep sounded nice to Ocellus at the moment, but there were a few things she had to take care of first.

“So, do you think you can do it?” she asked.

Gallus broke his attention away from the bookshelf to give Ocellus a confused look. “Do what?”

“To do the…” Ocellus nodded her head in the direction of the table. “...You know…”

Gallus raised a brow, then realization dawned on his face. “Oh, that.”

“So, you’ll do it?”

Gallus shook his head and sighed. “I’m not sure that I can do it.”

“Don’t be that way! It’s easy.”

“Ocellus, I’m not exactly comfortable with this.” He looked away from her and back toward the bookshelf. “I’m not going to do it.”

“Silverstream likes you! Are you seriously going to pass up this opportunity?”

“Okay!” Gallus bit. Ocellus didn’t think someone could yell that quietly. “If she were…” He made a hand gesture toward the area the friends were sitting at. “...Alone, I would do it. But try moving her away from someone when she’s locked in conversation.”

“Hm.” Ocellus watched Silverstream and Yona for a moment before speaking up again. Even with her thoughts muddled and tired, an idea came to fruition. “Okay, let’s try something.”

Stepping away from Gallus, a mirage of blue flame surrounded Ocellus’s body. In her place stood a hot pink pony with a blond mane done up in a bun and a freckled face with fuchsia irises. A smug grin crossed the librarian’s face. “How do I look?” she said in a nasally voice.

“You forgot the glasses,” Gallus said. “The librarian wears glasses. Besides, what are you going to do? Tell her she has a late fee that needs to be paid?”

Ocellus winced. “I was thinking of trying that with Yona, actually.”

“If you think it will work, then hey, shoot. But if it doesn’t, I guess we’re gonna have to catch Silverstream alone another time.”

Ocellus’s smug grin returned. “Fine, watch.”

She passed Gallus and headed toward the table. Gallus witnessed from the sideline as Ocellus — sorry— the librarian uttered a few simple words. Yona stood up from her pillow and followed her away from the table. Gallus had to do a double-take before he registered what had happened. When he finally realized that Ocellus had successfully led the yak away, his heart began to thud in his chest.

Smolder continued to sleep but still sat at the table. Could he do it? She did sleep through most of Silverstream’s chattering. Hey, maybe he could do this. But could he?

He walked up to the table, throat dry. Silverstream was tapping her fingers against the surface when her head jolted upward in his direction. A smile spread across her face. “Hi, Gallus!” She extended an arm into the air and waved.

Gallus swallowed saliva and stopped at the other side of the table. He found the unspoken offer to sit quite appealing but thought that any movement separate from that of a statue would throw off his flow. “Umm, hey Silver.” He thought she looked cute enough in her I♡ Fillydelphia sweater that it could provoke sweating.

Silverstream looked at Gallus, and Gallus looked at Silverstream. She scrunched her face up in confusion. “Hey, are you going to sit?”

“Sit?” Gallus balked. Yes, sit. Sitting sounded nice all of a sudden. He reached down to the floor to slide a magenta pillow his way and sat down. He made an awkward show of it, bumping the table a few times accidentally.

Silverstream noticed this. “You good?” Her talons proceeded to tap again like they did before he came.

He cleared his throat and brushed back the feathers on his crest, thinking it would make him look cool. “Yeah, I’m good,” he said in a smooth monotone. “You?”

“I’m great! Although, I would be better if I knew what was going on outside.”

Gallus nodded and snuck a glance in Smolder’s direction, who was still sound asleep. “Yeah,” he said. “That would be nice.”

“What do you think happened?”

“I don’t know.” His mind was occupied with things other than what was happening in the courtyard right at the moment. “A murder?” he suggested, not realizing the mistake until he said it.

“Oh, no!” Silverstream threw her talons up to her face in fright. “Who do you think it was? Did we know them?”

Gallus picked his hand up from the table and waved it for Silverstream to settle down, yes, settle down — none of that now! “It probably wasn’t a murder. I was just thinking back to our conversation during breakfast and got stuck on Fire and Brimstone’s —” he poked a thumb in the dragon’s direction, thinking if he said Smolder that it would activate some magic phrase and wake her up. “— joke.”

Silverstream’s panicked eyes calmed down. “So what do you think it was?”

“Honestly?” Gallus shrugged. “I think it was a prank.”

“But to ban outside travel from school? It had to have caused a lot of property damage. Did you notice that the doors to the west wing were missing?”

“I did.” He nodded. “And it really sucks. We have to schedule things for the weekend now.”

“Like the movie night we planned?’

“Among other things.”

“What other things did you have planned?”

Gallus didn’t think the body could produce this much saliva, but here he was swallowing it all down! “I’m not sure. A date, I guess?” He almost got a headrush from the word “date.”

Silverstream’s eyes widened, shining against the light of the room. “Oh! A date? Who are you going with?”

Gallus shuffled in his pillow. “Well, I haven’t said anything to her yet…”

Silverstream leaned in, her eyes widening with intrigue. “Who is it?”

“Well, it’s uh…” He rubbed the back of his head and mumbled something incoherent that vaguely translated to, “You.”

Silverstream cocked a brow and flicked her ears toward him. “Who?” she asked. By now, she was leaning so far over the table that she might as well have been laying on it.

He held a fist over his beak and cleared his throat. “You.” Silverstream’s head flinched back, and she blinked rapidly. “It’s you,” he said again to reassure her.

It happened like the explosion of a firecracker. First, he saw the blur, then pain sprawled down his neck. And a strange feeling of comfort. But mostly pain.

In the time that Silverstream screamed, “Eee!” she had leaped across the table and threw her arms around his neck in a tight hug. She also woke up Smolder.

“What—whoa, huh?” Smolder gave a panicked look around the room before her eyes landed on Silverstream, who had Gallus in a chokehold of her own variation. “Did I miss something?”

Silverstream dropped Gallus, and he breathed in a deep gulp of air. Midair, Silverstream swiveled to meet Smolder face-to-face. “He asked me out!”

“Shh!” came a loud hissing sound. Gallus didn’t know if it was from the actual librarian or if Ocellus was putting on a show.

“Oh,” Smolder said. “Hey, that’s good!”

“So what are you going to do for our date?” Silverstream said, rotating back to Gallus.

“Eh,” Gallus rubbed the spot on the back of his neck that still hurt. “Sugarcube Corner?”

“Heck yeah!” Her excited smile faltered and she scratched her chin in thought while she still hovered over the table. “But when are we going?”

“What about Saturday?”

“Tomorrow? Aren’t we having movie night?”

Gallus frowned. “Why would you want to have a date on a Sunday?”

“Sundays are fun! They’re like a pre-Monday.”

Smolder chuckled. “That’s exactly why they’re not fun.”

Gallus jabbed her with his claw.

Smolder threw both of her arms up in the air. “Why is everyone out to get me today?!”

“Shhh!”

“We can go early in the day,” Gallus said. “If we get up early, we’ll have the whole day to do whatever.”

Silverstream snapped her fingers and pointed at Gallus, giving him a wink. “That sounds like a plan. Oh! I have to get ready.”

She somersaulted in the air and flew toward the library exit. “But the date’s not till tomorrow!” Gallus yelled at her with a hand cupped over his beak.

“I’m getting pre-ready!” she yelled back.

They were shushed again.

Gallus slapped a talon over his face and chuckled.

“Congrats on the new girlfriend, loverboy.” Smolder gave him a toothy grin.

He rolled his eyes.

~•~

Time remained still. Last night felt like it was only minutes ago. Starlight was still caught in that moment of dumbstruck horror where everything in the present felt distant. Even when Trixie came back with the police, and even when she had to compose a letter to Twilight stating that one of her students was found dead, all clocks had only two shorthands.

The police questioned her, followed by the Royal Guard. Somehow her autopilot brain gained enough momentum to explain the events that transpired. There she was grading papers. There she was brewing tea and realizing she had to replace the jug in the water cooler. There she was finding the mess that Trixie left and hearing the scream come from the courtyard. There she was getting lost in a maze with no walls, stumbling over Lemongrass’s corpse, and running for her life from a monster that she couldn’t see.

Starlight explained all of this to them while nursing a damp cloth over the eye that had a splinter in it. She didn’t explain the part about how Trixie was two places at once. At the end of the interview, she sat slack-jawed, trying to find a way to explain it. No words came out.

Trixie was adamant in ensuring Starlight that she only left the room to find a broom. Starlight pestered her for more knowledge, anything — come on, anything — that could at least give a hint to what Starlight saw. Then Trixie dropped the bomb that not just halted Starlight’s world for the second time that night, but caused it to backpedal and force her to rethink everything she knew:

“What if it was a changeling?”

She continued mulling over the many possibilities and was so lost within her own thoughts that she didn’t hear the door to the classroom opening and closing.

“Headmare Starlight?”

Starlight’s heart thundered in her chest as she knocked over the mug she had previously been drinking from, instant coffee spilling across the desk. When she saw that it was just Ocellus, her heart calmed. She looked down at the mess she made, and her sudden fright turned into disappointment.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you!” Ocellus blurted, and she ran for the paper towel dispenser next to the chalkboard. She might as well have taken the whole roll with how many sleeves she ripped from it.

Ocellus came back with a wadded-up mound in her magic and started to wipe away the dark brown puddle on the table. Before she could continue, Starlight said, “That’s fine, Ocellus. I’ll clean it up.”

“I’m really sorry, Headmare Starlight!” Ocellus said quickly as she pressed the wad of paper towels against the surface of the desk so that the instant coffee soaked through. “I’m really tired today, so I didn’t think to knock, and I meant to —”

Starlight placed a hoof on Ocellus’s shoulder. The changeling looked up, startled. “It’s fine, Ocellus,” she said. The blue aura around the paper towels turned turquoise, and now Starlight was the one wiping away the spill. “Do me a favor and get me more paper towels and the trashcan by the door.

Ocellus nodded nervously. “Yes, ma’am!’

Ocellus held the trashcan while Starlight swiped the spill into it. Gathering up all the soggy mounds of paper towels that were soaked to brown, she threw it in with the small pool that was now at the bottom of the bag.

“Just leave the trash can by my desk. I will take it out when I’m done in here.”

“Okay.”

“So what did you need before the — you know.” Starlight said as Ocellus set the trash can down.

Ocellus perked up and gave Starlight a nervous smile. “Oh! Yeah, yeah. I wanted to check on my rock candy!” She pointed toward the back of the classroom, where several jars were lined along a counter.

“Rock candy?”

“Yeah, Professor Pinkie was showing us how to make it.”

Focusing her magic, Ocellus enveloped one of the jars in blue and floated it across the room. She set it down at the corner of Starlight’s desk. It had a longish wooden stick held in place by two clothes pins, and it was poking through a crystalline cap.

“What is that?” she asked.

“Oh, that’s just crystallized sugar.”

Starlight nodded in acknowledgment. “Okay, so how does this work?”

“Well…” Focusing her magic again, Ocellus removed the clothespin and forced pressure against the crystalline cap, the glittery surface breaking apart like a glacier. “You boil water mixed with a few cups of sugar, roll the stake in more sugar, and let the stake sit in the centre of the jar for a week or two.”

Ocellus lifted the wooden stake from the dark blue slushy liquid and held it over the jar as it dripped. On the other half of it were several clusters of crystalized sugar.

Ocellus huffed a disappointed sigh. “It looks like it’ll have to sit for another week.”

Inserting the wooden stake back through the surface of the dark blue liquid, she pinched it back in place with the clothespins.

Starlight smiled at Ocellus. “That’s really cool.”

“Yeah,” Ocellus said. She levitated the jar across the room and set it back in line with the others. “But I was hoping that it’d be ready today. I wanted to give it to Gallus.”

Starlight tilted her head. “Why Gallus? Did he not get to make some?”

“No he did, but I thought he might like to give it to Silverstream.”

Starlight’s eyes brightened. “They’re dating now?”

“Yep!” Ocellus said cheerfully. “I wanted to give it to him so he could give it to her.” Her cheerful smile fell and became sad. “But it looks like I have to wait another week.”

“Hey, don’t get down, Ocellus. You can try helping Gallus find a gift for Silverstream instead.”

Ocellus’s face brightened again. “Hey, you’re right!”

“Thanks for stopping by,” Starlight said. “I’ve been up all night trying to sort out the mess and needed the conversation. Anyway, I have to get back to work. Enjoy your day off.”

“Okay!” Ocellus turned toward the door and began walking toward it. “Have a good da—” she stopped and turned back to Starlight. “What did happen last night?”

Starlight set the quill that she had picked up when Ocellus started walking to the door back down on the table. She gave Ocellus a stressed look and shook her head. “I’m sorry, Ocellus. I can’t say anything until Monday.”

Ocellus came back to the front of the desk and propped both of her forehooves upon it. “Well, can my friends and I at least go out tonight? We were supposed to have a movie night, and I’ve never been to a movie and would love the chance to go see one.”

Starlight shifted in her pillow uncomfortably. “I would love for you to see a movie also, and under different circumstances, you would be permitted. I’m sorry, Ocellus, but there’s too much happening for me to explain.”

“Starlight, please—” Ocellus placed a hoof over Starlight’s, and in that instance, time stopped once again. Ocellus stood there picturesque with her mouth hanging ajar. Her hoof felt cold. Not cold like ice, but cold like a cold shock, a shock that sparked the memory of everything that happened frame-by-frame all in the span of a single nanosecond.

There she was, sitting alone behind her desk, grading the midterm test. There she was, finding Trixie’s mess in the teacher’s lounge. There she was, running into a disheveled-looking Trixie, going out into the snow, getting lost, and finding Lemongra—

“Is Lemongrass dead?”

Starlight always thought it was a cliché to say, “You could cut the tension with a knife” but in this case, something of the equivalent and more appropriate came to mind. She could cut through the tension with a dull hacksaw while struggling for several minutes with the few remaining tendons.

“What… how…” She tried to find a way to scream, “No! Lemongrass is fine. What are you worried about?” but knew that Ocellus would find out anyways when Monday announcements came. If Starlight didn’t fess up now and Ocellus found out later that it was a lie, she would feel betrayed.

She sighed. “How… how do you know?”

Ocellus’s mouth babbled. “I... I don’t know. I don’t know.” She cleared her throat and sniffed. “I got a hunch, I guess. It’s a guess. A wild guess, I don’t know. I—” Her jaw quivered. Tears streamed down Ocellus’s face. “Headmare Starlight, please say it’s not true!” she choked.

“I’m sorry, but it is.” Saying the words hurt her. It was less telling a student and more of a confirmation that one of her students was, without a doubt now, dead. It was like reality added another layer of realism to her already festering existential dread.

“She was my partner in Laughter!” Ocellus cried. “She helped me with the rock candy. I didn’t tell her I was going to give it to Gallus but I was planning to make it up to her, and… and… and…”

Starlight got up from behind the desk, came around, and draped her right foreleg over the changeling’s cerulean parka. It was smooth and warm, unlike her chitin, which she was sure would bite her with its shock if she dared brush up against it. For several long minutes, Starlight stood there and allowed the changeling to cry. Thinking the only thing she could think about.

How do you know, Ocellus?

Chapter 3 - Revelations

No matter how hard Starlight tried, she still couldn’t sleep. She tried to for the first few minutes, but the cold silence of the night bore down on her. It was the sort of cold silence that made her beg for, Come on, any! noise whatsoever.

When twenty minutes went by, she lay still in her bed, eyes wide open and staring at the ceiling. She listened for that noise she longed for. A thump, a chitter, the rustling of mice in the wall — anything to tell her that time was still passing. Then she heard it. Well, she didn’t hear it perse, morso the lack of it. Starlight realized the very thing she longed to hear during those twenty minutes of tossing and turning was the soothing metronome of her sundial clock.

Igniting the candle on her nightstand with her horn, she floated it up to the clock’s face, its sleek golden surface glistening beneath its light. The small hand was stuck on twelve, and the long hand that imitated a gnomon at thirty-two. Starlight almost let out an insane chuckle at the irony. She had found Lemongrass’s corpse around that time.

Starlight walked down the hall to her office. Normally, she slept in her bedroom at the Castle of Friendship, but because of yesterday’s events, she had a lot on her work plate. She thought it was good to have a second bedroom at the school. A change in the environment sometimes helped with her insomnia. Sometimes. Not tonight.

Starlight pushed her office door open and blinked in surprise when she saw Trixie behind her desk. The blue unicorn didn’t seem to notice her, as her attention pertained to the quill scrawling words onto parchment. What surprised Starlight more than seeing Trixie in her office, was that Trixie was wearing glasses.

“Are you still grading papers?” Starlight spoke up.

Trixie perked her head up, and Starlight could see the thin black rims of the glasses through the candlelight on the desk. She looked surprised at first, but it quickly dissipated, replaced by grouchy anger. “What in Equestria are you doing up this late?”

“I… um…” Starlight shook the sundial clock in the air for Trixie to see. “I needed the space to fix my clock.” She looked down at the floor guiltily. She hadn’t intended on running into Trixie. The only reason that Starlight was able to toss and turn in bed for twenty minutes was that Trixie convinced her that she needed to sleep and, “...No arguing about it! I’ll finish grading the papers.”

“Well, you’re supposed to be asleep,” Trixie said, and she sighed. Her horn ignited, the glasses floating off her face and folding in the air. “Although, I guess I’m glad you’re awake. I totally need a break.”

She set the glasses down and placed her forehead at the edge of the desk with a huff. Starlight came around and got a good look at the spectacles. “Since when did you start wearing glasses?”

“Trixie obtained them last week,” she said tiredly, forehead still placed against the desk’s edge. “She needs them for reading and writing.” She lifted her head from the table. “I tried to tell the doctor that the Great and Powerful Trixie—” She threw both of her forelegs in the air. “—doesn’t need anything belittling as specs to study her spells, but he changed my mind when he told me to read a magazine out loud.”

“Well, I think they look good on you!” Starlight added.

“Hm-mm,” Trixie hummed and stood up, veering around the desk. “I’ll go make us some tea.”

Starlight started working on her sundial clock. She got the tool kit from her supply closet on the shelf above the chest labeled “FROM THORAX” and used a screwdriver to remove the face, revealing all the toothed gears, springs, and everything else that made time move forward. She was loosening one of the cogs when Trixie set a cup of tea over a saucer onto the desk.

“Thanks,” Starlight said without looking up.

“You should drink,” Trixie said. “I took the liberty of putting a couple of ice cubes in there, so it’ll be the perfect temperature.”

Starlight downed the tea in two quick gulps. It was warm and minty, and if her mind wasn’t hazed with everything in the universe, she would have given herself the chance to enjoy it.

She set the cup back down on the saucer with an audible clack and resumed tinkering with the inside of the sundial clock. The cog she removed was chipped and had to be replaced. Starlight got up from her pillow and walked back over to the supply closet.

“Why don’t you sleep and let Trixie fix the clock?” Trixie called.

Starlight ignored her, sliding out a drawer labeled “cogs” and trying to match the right one with the chipped version. She found it, shut the drawer, and went back to her desk.

She could tell that Trixie was staring, so picking her screwdriver back up, she said, “You wouldn’t know how to fix it.” Okay, ouch, rude, Starlight thought. She raised her head up and said, “I’m sorry Trixie, I’m tired, and —-”

“The Industrious and Tinkering Trixie knows how to repair clocks!” Starlight could tell that Trixie didn’t even say it out of the offense. It was out of the pure, simple acknowledgment that she knew how to do something.

Starlight went back to tinkering. “That may be so, but I’d like to work on this myself if that’s fine.”

Trixie huffed. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Starlight stopped. She didn’t have to think about what it was because it was perfectly embedded into her brain. She didn’t say anything to Trixie and continued screwing in the fresh cog.

Trixie cleared her throat. “Trixie spoke to someone earlier today.”

“That’s nice,” Starlight said, only absentmindedly paying attention.

“He said he was a private investigator of some sort — yadda yadda yadda, and he asked Trixie for her details of the events or whatever.” Trixie took a sip from her tea and continued. “So she told him about your episode.”

“The meltdown I had after blowing up the coffee maker?”

“Bingo. He asked Trixie what you said during your little spat, and I told him about how you thought you saw me.”

Starlight set the screwdriver down and focused her magic onto a small knob on the back of the sundial clock. A clicking sound emitted as she began winding it. “So what did he think?”

“He said that it’s possible that the trauma was causing your memory to go all over the place and such and such. He also said that it’s possible you created the event in your mind.”

“Maybe I did, maybe I didn’t.” She picked the screwdriver back up in her magic when a powerful wave washed over her, and the screwdriver fell from midair. Starlight had the sudden urge to kneel over and pass out. Her eyes landed on the dregs at the bottom of her empty teacup.

“Trixie, did you give me sleeptight tea?”

“I told you to sleep,” came Trixie’s stern voice from beside her, gently pushing Starlight down to the floor where her head made contact with another pillow. “Now sleep.”

“Ugh,” Starlight grunted. “I hate you so much.”

“The love is mutual.”

Starlight sluggishly rolled onto her back, settling herself over the cushions. “Where did this pillow come from?” Her voice came out slurred.

“You have spares, Starlight.”

“Oh.” Starlight’s eyelids felt heavy, and with that heaviness came the urge to close them. She fought to keep her eyes open. Maybe if she stayed awake long enough, the spell would wear off. Yes, she could wait for it to wear off and promptly berate Trixie when she was able to stand on two hooves again — the other two of which will be smashing her skull in…

It hit like a second blast with a shockwave even more damaging. There was another one of those thoughts. She had several of them since Lemongrass’s death.

For some reason, the urge to look into that empty cranium for any brain residue had been compelling. She had just as quickly staved that thought off, brushing it off as a moment of insanity. Now, Starlight questioned if it was more than just a moment because she had similar thoughts after her brush-up with Ocellus earlier today.

It came in the form of a thought, followed by a whisper. As Starlight gently caressed Ocellus’s smooth parka while she cried in the classroom, Starlight had the thought… Ocellus… Do you know anything about Lemongrass’s death?

Then there it was in the back of her mind. It was so deep in the abyss that it still had a lot of climbing to do to reach the forefront. Yet, it was still the loudest whisper she ever heard.

Why would there be anything wrong with that?

Starlight chalked it down to her own thoughts trying to manipulate her. There was no reason for her to have such a thought because she wasn’t the kind of pony to have it. In fact, there was no reason for said thought to even exist. So why was she suddenly fine thinking that the murderer might be a student at the school?

Ocellus somehow knew that it was Lemongrass that was dead. She knew that it was death pertaining to a friend and not just an unfortunate accident that pertained to a bodily injury. It was the death and death of a very specific friend. Not Silverstream, not Gallus, and not Yona, Sandbar, nor Smolder. It was Lemongrass and specifically Lemongrass who was dead.

Starlight stared beyond where Trixie sat next to her, into the dark corner of the room. It was there she saw it. There, in that corner, stood the silhouette of a pony that only she could see. And she knew that she, and only she could see it. There was no indication other than her own intuition to tell her otherwise.

Starlight’s head settled into the pillow, and darkness swept over her. But the image was plastered in her brain. She knew what the silhouette of the pony was and why only she could see it because there would be no logical reason for it to be there. Standing in the corner with a smile not deranged, but sinister, was her. Starlight Glimmer.

~•~

It was like a dream, but not really. Starlight woke up outside, the cold biting her body. She was trudging through the snow, each step taking extraordinary effort.

“Puny pony body…” she muttered with a voice that wasn’t her own. It was raspy, like the voice of an older pony with a throat disease.

With the realization that the voice wasn’t hers also came the realization that the body itself wasn’t hers. If this were a dream, it was one that she couldn’t take control of. It could have been that the sleeptight tea was having a deep effect on her mind, which would explain how real everything felt. The sore muscles, the cold bite of the icy wind, all the way to the sharp, quesy hunger in her stomach.

The hunger was the worst. It was the sort where absolutely anything sounded appetizing. She imagined a nice salad dinner, thinking that the forced changes in thought would shift the cold environment into a warm restaurant. Starlight didn’t get that, but she did hear a noise.

She lifted her head up, ears flickering in the direction the noise had emanated, and her legs carried her toward a house. Starlight cut through the front yard and veered around to its side, arriving behind a deteriorated mulberry bush with thick enough brimble to hide a pony from sight if no one stood too close.

She peered out toward a group of colts congregated beside one of the bridges that overlapped the frozen river that coursed Ponyville’s outskirts. Starlight immediately recognized the bi-colored blue and yellow mane of Skedaddle, a unicorn colt who was backed up against the bridge’s wall. She also recognized the gray coat and black mane that belonged to Rumble, who had two other ponies she didn’t know at his side.

“Come on, it’ll be fun!” Rumble said. She was only able to faintly hear his voice through the wind.

“N-no! I don’t want to do it.” Skedaddle shivered against the bridge’s wall, huddled up in a way that would guarantee placebo-defense.

“Pathetic,” Starlight muttered. She was baffled by the words that came out of her mouth. Did she really just say that?

“Who’s gonna see us? No one is going to be out in all this snow.”

What does he mean? Starlight thought. Dream or not, she’d like to be in control of her own body if it meant preventing hijinks.

“I’m not going to do it!” Skedaddle yelled, some ferocity seeping into his voice. He took a step toward the three foals in front of him. Starlight registered the trio and understood immediately that he couldn’t take them all on. Sure, Skedaddle was taller than Rumble, but Rumble was broader and a lead defender in Ponyville’s Little League Hoofball team. The other two, well, one looked as if he could bench press an abnormal amount of weight for his age, and the other looked like he had won every single fight in his life by sitting on his opponent.

Rumble wasn’t shaken by Skedaddle’s change in demeanor. In fact, his grin grew wider. “All you have to do is steal a few apples from Sweet Apples Acres,” he said. “Nopony will notice. Hey, nopony will miss them, either.”

“S-somepony will figure us out,” Skedaddle stuttered.

“How? There’s literally a million of them. How is anypony going to notice?”

“No!” Skedaddle yelled. “I’m not gonna do it!”

“What are you?” Rumble jabbed a hoof into the taller foal’s chest. “A wuss?” A wuss. He said it in that same childish way only an immature foal could say it. A wuss.

“No, I’m not!” Skedaddle slapped Rumble’s hoof away. The smaller foal looked startled for a moment, but his smile returned quickly.

“You’re a wuss!” he chanted, followed by a laugh. “You’re a wuss! Wussy, wussy, wussy…”

The other foals joined in. Starlight would have jumped in and broken up the disagreement if she could. Her body remained still, and for the first time she noticed how still she was. She had been hunkered behind the mulberry the entire time, not budging for a moment. Not even shivering against the cold. She could feel the soft beating of her heart in her chest. It was calm. An irritating calm. The sort of calm Starlight didn’t trust. Her stomach growled in lustful hunger.

An audible smack echoed through the wind and the chanting cut off. Rumble stumbled backward, holding a hoof over his nose and dripping cherry splotches onto the snow. The other two foals were on Skedaddle before he could even attempt to run away.

The fat one held him down, while the muscular one kicked his stomach. Rumble beat his head in, ensuring that the taller foal had a nose bleed much worse than his. When the three foals were satisfied, the fat one finally let him go.

“Let’s get outta here,” Rumble said, making a head motion for the other two foals to follow.

The trio walked away, and Rumble scuttled back into the wall. He curled into a little ball and began to sob.

Starlight stepped through the mulberry bush and began making wide gaits through the snow toward Skedaddle, and as she got closer, the snow got thinner. By the time she reached him, the snow was only about shin height.

Skedaddle didn’t seem to notice the mare towering over him, nor did Starlight think he would care. He continued to bawl with his hooves over his head.

“You’re pathetic,” she said. Starlight could hear the raspy voice a little clearer now and realized how threatening it sounded.

Skedaddle broke from his sobbing and looked up at Starlight. Blood covered the entirety of his upper lip, coursing down to his chin and smearing across his cheeks. His right eyelid had a slight squint to it, and Starlight could catch onto the vague hints of a black eye forming.

“Leave me alone, lady,” he said.

“Ponies are a weak race. You are nothing but sub-lifeforms. Eliminating you would be easy.”

Skedaddle's head jolted back, both eyes as wide as either would allow. He stood up, wiping the blood on his face onto his forehoof. “I’m gonna go,” he said.

He took a step back toward town and stopped. He turned his head back to Starlight, whatever body Starlight was in, and continued forward. Then she leapt.

Starlight wanted to scream. All she could think was, No, no, what are you doing! She bit down on a lock of Skedaddle’s mane and dragged him through the snow, toward the frozen river. Every time he made the faints of screams, Starlight would give him a hard tug, then would come the ripping sound of hair follicles being torn from his scalp.

Time lost its sense of awareness after that. The moment they were on the ice, her body took Skedaddle’s head into both of its hooves and slammed down hard. A loud crack sound emitted from where his head landed, and Starlight couldn’t tell if it came from the ice itself or his skull. She didn’t want to know.

Starlight was now on top of the foal, who was squirming beneath her. She promptly wrapped both hooves around his head and slammed it down again, again, again, and Snap! Skedaddle’s horn went skittering across the ice, and she still didn’t stop.

Stop, stop it already! Can’t you see you’re killing him! Starlight tried to shout. And her body responded.

It stopped a large puddle of blood now formed over the ice. Starlight could feel the muscle strains of a devious smirk crossing her face. “So, you’re watching.”

Starlight hoped for a minute that someone was witnessing the crime taking place but then realized that the body she was in somehow heard her.

Please stop this, she tried.

Her body responded with a deep chortle. “The pony race is pathetic. I should have wiped you all out when I had the chance. Now that I have you here, you get to bear witness to my resurgence.”

What do you mean? Starlight responded.

A bright green glow flashed across her vision, and Starlight felt better. When the light dissipated, there were two curved mandibles rowed with ghastly teeth extruding from just below her eyes.

Starlight wanted to scream, partly because a vague realization of what was about to happen resonated in the back of her mind, but mostly because this proved that Trixie’s theory was true — that the killer was a changeling.

The changeling posing as some uncanny creature reached a spider leg-like appendage toward Skedaddle’s corpse and flipped it over. Starlight could see his face in perfect clarity. There was a large dent in his forehead where it had been bashed in, and his mug was completely unrecognizable due to the amount of blood that covered it.

The creature reached down, taking his head into both of its mandibles. A disgusting, wet cracking sound emitted, and the contours of his skull smashed inward no easier than a melon taken to with a sledgehammer would explode. His right eyeball popped out of its socket, dangling over his check, and Starlight had the faint glimpse of brain matter spilling out like toothpaste before —

She was spared the remaining details of seeing the inside of Skedaddle’s head as she was literally slapped awake by Trixie. Starlight jolted upright from her spot on the floor and did the only thing that would make sense to somepony that just witnessed a horrible atrocity with no control over whether they could look away: she screamed.

It started at a low pitch, but it built up into even more intense vibrations. Then she screamed again, and again until her screaming died down into quiet sobs.

The sundial clock’s ticking echoed throughout the room.

Chapter 4 - The Date

Time stopped. When Ocellus heard that Lemongrass was dead, all the clockwork that made her brain scream Go! stopped turning. Her head was now a near-empty shell. The only room for thought she had was Lemongrass and specifically Lemongrass. She tried to think of things other than Lemongrass to get Lemongrass off her mind, but an inky void always clouded her thoughts. Lemongrass was dead, and there was no changing that.

Ocellus was surprised she slept at all last night. Much like yesterday, her brain was slow to process everything. Part of her wanted to head down to the cafeteria and drink the entirety of the coffee dispenser’s contents, but she mostly wanted to lay in bed and gain another hour or two of restful sleep.

If she only could…

Silverstream was all over the dorm that morning. It started with the blare of her alarm, followed by a prompt musical number, a lot of rumbling as she shuffled through her armoire in search of something to wear, and finally, a series of clanking sounds coming from the bathroom. The noise became so overbearing that Ocellus inevitably decided to get up and join the hippogriff in her morning ritual.

“Good morning, sleepy filly!” Silverstream sang joyfully when Ocellus entered the bathroom. She had her wings spread out and was plucking stray feathers with tweezers. Being a seapony most of her life, she had yet to figure out that she could use her beak.

“Morning…” Ocellus mumbled.

Silverstream halted from her feather plucking and looked up at the changeling in surprise. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Ocellus grumbled. She arrived at the sink beside Silverstream and telekinetically lifted her toothbrush. “Just tired.”

“But you were tired yesterday.”

Ocellus nodded sluggishly. “Yup,” she said and squeezed some toothpaste onto the bristles.

“Are you going to make it to movie night, at least?”

Toothbrush in mouth, Ocellus mumbled something that almost translated to, “Sure.”

Silverstream finished plucking the feathers on her wings and moved onto her neck. She stopped, the tweezers hovering inches away, and she held them out toward Ocellus. “Hey, can you get the feathers on my neck? It’s difficult in the mirror.”

Spitting into the sink, Ocellus rinsed her toothbrush, set it aside, and wordlessly took the tweezers from Silverstream. She had helped Silverstream several times before, so she knew exactly which feather to take out.

“So, are you looking forward to your date with Gallus?” Ocellus said to fill in the small patch of silence that had ensued. She wanted to do whatever she could to not think about Lemongrass. Every time she did tears would begin to well up in her eyes and she would have to fight for them to not drip down her face.

“Why wouldn’t I!?” Silverstream blurted. Ocellus jolted at the hippogriff’s sudden burst of energy and accidentally yanked one of the feathers from her neck. “Owe!”

“I’m sorry, Silver. I didn’t mean to. It looks like I drew some blood. Let me get the first aid and —”

“Oh, psshh—” Silverstream waved for her to calm down. “It’s just a trickle. I’ll be fine.”

“I’m sorry, I’m tired and —”

Silverstream placed a talon on her friend’s shoulder, the changeling falling into silence. “Ocellus, you over worry sometimes. It’s fine — really! Stop getting choked up.”

Ocellus faltered, the tweezers lowering in the air. “Sorry.”

Silverstream’s smile fell. “Is something up? You haven’t been yourself since yesterday.”

Ocellus felt like telling Silverstream everything she knew at that moment. Telling a friend meant she could get the pain off her chest. Lemongrass would still be on her mind, but if she vented about it then she would find at least some acceptance in it.

However, she thought back to the conversation she had with Headmare Starlight. When Ocellus had finished bawling her eyes out after twenty minutes or so, Starlight made her promise to not tell anycreature whatsoever. The headmare didn’t want to incite panic in the students and would announce it herself on Monday.

Also, today was a big day for Silverstream. The hippogriff wasn’t well-acquainted with Lemongrass, although Ocellus knew the kind of creature Silverstream was. Upon hearing that a fellow student of hers was found dead on school grounds, she would immediately burst into tears and be depressed for the rest of the day. She didn’t want Silverstream to be upset on what should be a very happy day.

Ocellus’s heart dropped in her chest. “I failed a test.”

Silverstream gasped a little louder than necessary. “Ocellus? Failing a test!” She threw both of her forelegs around the changeling’s neck and gave her the same breath-reducing hug Gallus got yesterday. “You are in my heart on this extremely sad day, of all days.”

“Uh, thanks,” Ocellus said, scrambling to push away from Silverstream.

Silverstream held her in a tight embrace for an uncomfortably long minute and only let go when Ocellus accidentally slapped her in the face while trying to get her hooves free. “Oh!” The hippogriff squeaked, letting go of the changeling.

Ocellus rubbed the spot on the back of her now sore neck. “I appreciate your… appreciation, but I’ll get over it. It was going to happen inevitably, heh.”

“I just wish it wasn’t today.” Silverstream turned back to the mirror, and Ocellus took that as her cue to resume plucking.

“So, going back to my question. You looking forward to—”

“Why wouldn’t I!” Silverstream blurted, a foreleg jolting into the air. “I’ve been waiting since last year for him to say something, and he finally built up the confidence to ask me out on the day that I was going to ask him out. It’s like destiny or something!”

“Hehe, sure.” Ocellus giggled. She found out about the whole “destiny” concept around the start of Thorax's reign — after certain literature bans were lifted from the changeling kingdom. The changeling read about it in a few storybooks but didn’t find anything romantic about it until Silverstream started throwing glances at Gallus’ way last year in History of Friendship.

Now, the concept of two creatures being together for the rest of their lives fascinated her. It was like a storybook! And, as of yesterday, she helped to make it ideal. If only she could give Silverstream the rock candy.

Just like that, she was reminded of Lemongrass again. The memory started with the rock candy, followed by the conversation she had with Headmare Starlight, followed by the realization... That acknowledgment of what she was forgetting was enough to make the excitement in her chest degrade into a cold weight.

Ocellus's body felt heavy, and she faltered from her feather plucking. Silverstream noticed her hesitation in the mirror. “Hm?”

“Sorry,” Ocellus replied. “I’m not myself this morning.”

Silverstream turned to her friend and placed a talon on her shoulder. “Ocellus, is there something you’re not telling me?”

This was that part of Silverstream that always caught Ocellus off-guard. It was that perceptive part. That part of the hippogriff where beyond all of her clumsy excitement, was a thoughtful and caring creature that understood when her friends had a much deeper, complex issue that they weren’t letting on about. Ocellus both loved and hated that part of Silverstream.

In this scenario, the changeling didn’t know how to feel. She wanted to hate it because she was trying to avoid telling the hippogriff. She also loved it because a part of her really wanted to say something. But how would Ocellus go about it? Was there a way she could say it without bumming Silverstream out, and on such an exciting day, at that?

“N-nothing,” Ocellus stuttered. “I just need some sleep. Do you think you can do it yourself?”

“Uh, sure…” Silverstream plucked the tweezers from the air and pointed them back to the side of her neck. “You got most of it, it looks like.”

The hippogriff threw an odd look between her reflection and the changeling and began to carefully pick through her feathers. It was the sort of look that said, I know you’re not saying something, but I won’t budge if you won’t first. Ocellus considered it for a moment and realized that it was the first time that Silverstream had looked at her like that. Every time Ocellus had a problem, they would talk about it. It was how they worked through their anxieties together. To her, it was like a silent acknowledgment of betrayal.

She tried to think of something to make her friend feel better, but all that came to mind was, “Enjoy your date with Gallus!”

Ocellus went back to bed, lifted her duvet in the air with her magic, and plopped down onto the mattress. The duvet came down over and enveloped her body. Eyes shut, she rolled around in bed, allowing the blanket to wrap around her a little, and noticed that something was off: the duvet was damp.

Confused, Ocellus unraveled from the blanket and levitated it in the air. Drips of water tapped against her carapace. Sitting up in bed, Ocellus felt the sheets beneath her with her hooves. Although they were mostly dry, they too were a little damp.

The duvet floated across the room and stuffed itself into the hamper next to the armoire at the foot of her bed. Ocellus wanted to speculate with theories about why her bed sheets were wet, but her tired mind suppressed any idea that sounded concrete.

Mind blank, Ocellus laid back down, snuggled her head into her pillow, and slept.

~•~

A whimsical chime filled Sugarcube Corner, and in walked Gallus and Silverstream, a tendril of falling snow trying to follow. “See? Told you it wouldn’t be busy in this weather.” the griffon said.

Silverstream, who now wore a blue sweater with What Happens In Las Pegus, Stays In Las Pegus stitched in green font, giggled and rolled her eyes playfully. “Fine, you were right.”

The two arrived at the counter. “Be there in a second!” a pony called. Both Silverstream and Gallus craned their necks to see Mrs. Cake serving a salad to a charcoal black hippogriff wearing sunglasses. “Is there anything else you need?” she asked him, and Silverstream sensed a little bit of anxiousness in her voice.

Head kneeled over his plate, he muttered something. A moment later, Mrs. Cake scampered back over to where Gallus and Silverstream were standing and arrived behind the counter.

“Sorry about that. What can I get for you two lovebirds?”

Gallus made a choking sound. Silverstream looked his way and saw the flustered look on his face. The feathers on his neck were even rising! She had to suppress a giggle at his adorableness. He tried to play it off by holding a fist in front of his beak and clearing his throat.

“We’d like some lunch — you want some lunch, right Silv? Yeah, I’ll take some lunch.” He focused his attention above Mrs. Cake’s head, at a menu that wasn’t there. “What do you want?”

Silverstream sat on her haunches and brought fetlocks to her chest in excitement. “Do they have fish tacos here?”

Mrs. Cake blinked. “Uhm, no—”

“Fish tacos, seriously?” Gallus interjected. “You want to get that on our first date?”

“What?” Silverstream shrugged. “You haven’t had fish tacos before?”

Gallus tapped his beak. “Now that you bring it up, I haven’t.”

“See! Ooo, let’s get a whole bunch of them.” Silverstream turned back to Mrs. Cake. “Hey, can we get fajita dip with the appetizer?”

“Ughh…” Mrs. Cake uttered, blinking rapidly before quickly regaining her composure with a shake of the head. “We don’t serve that here. Our lunch menu is right there.” She pointed to a sheet of laminated paper propped up on the counter.

Gallus lifted the sheet from its stand and examined it.

Lunch Specials

Spaghetti - 10 Bits

• With side salad of choice

Pizzaghetti

• With side salad of choice

(2) Neatly Cut Cucumber Sandwiches - 8 Bits

• With a side of potato salad

Sugarcube Corner’s Homemade Pan Pizza - 20 Bits

• With side of choice

Salad - 5 Bits

• With side salad of choice

Pinkie’s Special Paste - 3 Bits

• It’s a secret!

“That’s it?” Gallus blurted in a manner that Silverstream thought was a little rude, but she pushed it aside because he looked cute when he was confused! He looked cute when he did a lot of things, to be fair. But, oh boy, the way he looked at that menu was, like, so hot.

A small frown settled onto Mrs. Cake’s face. “Yes, that would be it,” she replied patiently. “This is a bakery, after all.”

Gallus sighed. “Fine, give us the Homemade Pan Pizza with two side salads. ”

Silverstream waved a talon between Mrs. Cake and Gallus. “Let’s split the side salad, actually. Like a couple!”

Gallus rolled his eyes, ignoring Mrs. Cake’s lame attempt to suppress her laughter. “Sure. And, uh, we’ll get some shakes with that.”

“Hey, can we get shakes the same colors as us? Like, you get strawberry and I get blueberry.”

“Fine. Two shakes. What she said.”

Loud clacking sounds emitted as Mrs. Cake rang up the total on the register. After Gallus paid for their meal, the two found a cozy little table in the middle of the store and sat across from each other.

“I’m surprised you paid for the entire meal yourself,” Silverstream teased, even sounding a little impressed.

“Eh, well, I borrowed a few bits from Sandbar.” Gallus reached a claw up to his neck and scratched beneath the color of his raggy wool green sweater. “Well, I ‘procured’ them from his piggy bank.”

“You defiled Professor Oinkals!?” Silverstream threw both of her talons up to her face in shock.

“Defile is a strong word. I’d say pilfered his innards. That’s two strong words.”

“Are you going to pay Sandbar back?”

“Probably. If he asks,” Gallus said. Silverstream shot him a stern look. “Eventually,” he added. Silverstream continued to stare, and he shot both of his forelegs up in defeat. “Alright! Yeah, sure…”

Silverstream reached over the table and gave him a celebratory pat on the head. “Good boy.”

“You are something else,” he chuckled.

Silverstream retracted her arm and leaned in toward the table with sparkling eyes. “So, are you excited for movie night?”

“Yeah. I haven’t seen a movie before. Should be nice.”

“I haven’t either! The closest to one I’ve seen is the small documentaries they show in class sometimes, and Professor Applejack doesn’t even let me eat popcorn during those.”

“Lame. Well, you can have popcorn during this one.”

“I kinda want some popcorn now.” Silverstream placed a hand over her stomach. “Dang, I wish we were watching the movie already so I could have some!”

Gallus raised a brow. “You know you don’t have to be watching a movie to eat popcorn, right? You can just have some.”

“That would ruin the magic of eating it!”

“Hey, don’t you two go to the school here?”

Both Gallus and Silverstream looked up at a hippogriff that looked twice their age. He had charcoal black feathers that hardly reflected the lights of the room and a tuft of white plumage going down his chest, making it look like he wore a tux of sorts. Some of the feathers on his head were slicked back neatly. The most captivating part of this hippogriff, however, were the shades that hid his eyes. The way his head didn’t tilt down to look at the two gave him an air of intimidation. The only thing that made his presence reassuring was the broad grin he wore. And even that somehow managed to be creepy.

“Yeah…” Gallus said after a hot second, not bothering to mask his confusion. His eyes settled onto the black leather satchel that hung at the hippogriff’s side.

“Really? That’s great. I heard there was a school around here. I’ve been wanting to go myself.”

“I think you’re too old for school, pal.”

The hippogriff gave a hearty laugh, and this made the two feel a little more comfortable. He had a smooth voice, giving him a sort of charisma to make up for the intimidating features. “I recognize you two. The both of you were in the papers some years ago.”

Gallus smirked. “You mean when we saved the school from Cozy Glow? That was just one of my many heroic deeds.”

“You mean there were more?” Silverstream spoke up.

Gallus dropped his smirk. “Silv, that was a joke.”

“And a charming one at that,” the hippogriff added. “Mind if I sit with you?”

Gallus was about to drop a very firm no but got dumbfounded into silence when the stranger sat next to him. “What?” he balked.

The hippogriff pointed down at Silverstream. “So you’re Queen Novo’s niece? I haven’t been up to Mount Aris myself in years. It’s a pleasure meeting you.”

He held out his talon for her to shake, and she accepted it. Silverstream clasped his talon into hers and was surprised by the strength in his grip. While it didn’t hurt, it was just enough that if he wanted to, he could pull her across the table.

Their talons parted, and the hippogriff turned his attention to Gallus. “Gallus, right? You’re much shorter in person. Probably because you’re a griffon.”

He held his claw out toward Gallus, who only stared at it. “We’re on a date,” he said curtly. “So if you’ll…”

“A date!” the hippogriff exclaimed. “Don’t let me get between young love. I just want to ask a few questions.”

Silverstream looked at Gallus, who gave her a muddled shrug. “What do you want?” he asked, looking back up at the hippogriff.

“Where were you two on Friday night?”

“I was asleep,” Silverstream said.

“Yeah, so was I,” Gallus added.

“Around what time did the both of you go to bed?”

Gallus shrugged. “Ten?”

“Eight!” Silverstream chirped.

The hippogriff nodded. “Right then. Were either of you acquainted with Lemongrass?”

Gallus and Silverstream exchanged glances. The griffon was the first to speak up. “I know of her, but we’ve never talked.”

“Lemongrass is great!” Silverstream shouted with sudden enthusiasm. “We hung out, like, twice last year!”

The stranger grew silent for a moment, looking as if he was trying to decide something. Then he spoke. “Based on both of your reactions to my question, I suppose I’ll be the first to tell the both of you that she’s dead.”

The windows crackled from the sheer force of the wind, the sound echoing throughout Sugarcube Corner. Gallus and Silverstream exchanged unsure glances, Gallus trying to register what reaction to give to a reveal like that, and Silverstream trying to find some reassurance that she didn’t just hear about a fellow student dying. The hippogriff’s deadpan face didn’t do anything to quell her fears.

“Who are you?” Gallus spoke up before the silence became too overbearing.

“I’m a detective.” the hippogriff said. He reached into his black leather satchel and took out a shiny gold object, presenting it for both Gallus and Silverstream to see: Canterlot Detective Division. “I was wondering if either of you could answer a few more questions for me.”

“Okay,” Gallus nodded.

“Sure,” Silverstream agreed.

The hippogriff tucked the badge back into his satchel. “Other than yourselves, are there any carnivores that go to your school?”

“Why?” Gallus asked.

“Pieces of Lemongrass’s brain was found in the snow with bite marks,” he said as though they were discussing the weather.

Silverstream made a loud gagging sound and lurched her head over the table. More gags came in abruptly and with very brief intervals.

“Silverstream!” Gallus said. He got up from his spot next to the stranger and came around the table, patting her on the back.

“Is that a yes or no?” the hippogriff continued.

“Yes, no — what?” Gallus shouted angrily. Silverstream stopped gagging, but a sick look remained on her face.

“Are there more carnivores in the school?” he asked again.

“No. No, there’s not.” He sucked in air through his nostrils and let out a loud breath. “Leave.”

The hippogriff grew silent once again. Gallus thought for a moment that he would stay there and continue to pester the two of them with questions. Gallus even had his beak open, ready to bark another order for him to leave when he got interrupted.

“Is everything okay here?” Mrs. Cake spoke up. Gallus turned his head and saw that she was standing before their table, pushing a cart sporting a pizza with crust way too thick, a small salad, and a strawberry and a blueberry milkshake.

“It’s all good,” the hippogriff said. “I was just leaving.” He stood up and walked toward the door at a pace that felt agonizing to Gallus. Then, the bakery was filled with the whimsical chime of the entrance bell, and he was gone.

“So,” Mrs. Cake said before any more of the awkward silence could ensue. “I have one homemade pan pizza, a side salad, and —”

“We’ll take those to go.” Gallus interrupted without breaking his attention away from Silverstream, who looked as if she was going to vomit any moment.

“Erm, okay. That’s two extra bits.”

Gallus reached inside his wool green sweater and took out a lumpy brown sack that must have been through a tussle or two. “Yeah, sure,” he said, taking out two bits and tossing them onto the cart.

Silverstream continued to hold her head over the table, looking as if she would retch at any moment. Not even sparing a glance toward Gallus, she spoke. “I think Ocellus knew.”

Gallus gave her a confused scowl. “What do you mean? She knew about Lemongrass?”

Silverstream nodded. “She went to bed in the middle of the afternoon yesterday and lied to me this morning when I asked her if anything was wrong.”

“What did she tell you?”

“That she failed a test. I didn’t believe her. The Ocellus I know would ask to make up for it in extra credit. Not… get all sad. She’d be determined to keep her grade up.”

“Ocellus and Lemongrass did do projects together. But, wait, how would she know before anyone else?”

Silverstream shrugged. “I don’t know. I don’t think they were close enough for Headmare Starlight to tell her herself.” She laid her chin against the table, arms sprawled out against its surface. “Gosh, I can’t believe someone at the school died.”

“Yeah, it’s… something,” Gallus added, brushing his hand along her back. “Do you think something from the Everfree got her?”

Silverstream jolted upward, eyes wide and looking as if she were about to hurl. “Please, stop talking about that!”

“Sorry, sorry…” Gallus waved for her to calm down. “Let’s get our food and get out of here.”

~•~

“Let’s get our food and get out of here.”

The hippogriff took out his earpiece and wrapped it around a strange device that had a curved funnel with an antenna protruding from its center. Tucking it into his satchel next to the fake detective badge, he stared back across the street from the table of an outdoor cafe.

“Sir!” a mare called from behind him. “Sir, do you want to come inside?”

“No,” he said, remaining fixated on the door.

“Well, do you need anything? We only serve indoors during the winter.”

The hippogriff shook his head. “I have everything I need.”

Throwing the satchel back over his head, he stood up and began making his way toward the School of Friendship, adding another note to his mental list.

Ocellus

Chapter 5 - Black Swan

Knock Knock

“Come in!” Trixie called without looking up from her paperwork.

The door to the counselor's office swung open and in walked Smolder. The door slammed shut behind her. “What did you need me for?” she said with her arms crossed and face deadpanned.

With barely a glance over, Trixie flicked the quill that hovered in the air toward the couch. “Sit.”

Smolder remained idle. “Why?”

“Just sit. This will be quick.”

Smolder did as told. She walked around the couch and plopped down on it.

Trixie set the quill down next to the paper she was working on. She took her glasses off with her magic, folded them up, and sat them down too.

“You wear glasses now?” the dragon commented.

“Trixie would like to talk about what happened in the locker room the other day,” Trixie interjected.

Smolder crossed her arms again and leaned back into the cushions with eyebrows raised inquisitively. “What about it?”

Trixie waved a hoof in Smolder’s direction. “Do you want to tell me first?”

“What’s there to tell ya?”

“What happened in the locker room after cheer practice?”

Smolder shrugged. “Beats me.” The dragon’s eyes began to scan the room, perhaps for a possible escape route or an idea to switch the subject on.

“You don’t remember?”

The dragon shook her head quickly. “Nah. I would if it was something important.”

Trixie glared at her and held that stare for what felt like a very long minute to Smolder. “That’s strange,” Trixie finally said. “Trixie was under the impression that dragons have excellent memories. Better than a pony’s, in fact.”

Smolder found a sudden interest in her claws and began examining them closely. She extended her arm out and splayed all of her fingers out, searching for any sign of flaws. “Yeah, well you thought wrong. My memory is shit.”

“I’ll excuse the language considering the circumstances that I brought you in here for. Bad memory or not, several witnesses came to Trixie and said that you —”

“They lied,” Smolder interrupted, suddenly sitting up. “I’m not exactly a ‘team player.’ Of course, they’ll lie about something so ridiculous just to get me in trouble!”

Trixie nodded. “Of course. And how are things going outside of school?”

Smolder cleared her throat. “Fine.”

“Yona tells Trixie that you have difficulty getting out of bed in the morning?”

For the first time since Smolder arrived in the counselor’s office, she made eye contact with Trixie at the mention of Yona. It was only for a second, but it was enough for Trixie to know that she had the dragon reeled in.

Smolder smirked and forced out a chuckle. “Who doesn’t have trouble waking up?”

Trixie nodded again. “This is true. Trixie finds that she can’t start her day without her morning cup of coffee. However, there’s also the matter of how you conduct yourself in general. Your teachers’ reports clarify that you never participate in group activities — that you like to hang back and let the others do all of the work.”

“So?”

“Also that you have trouble turning in solo assignments. This is unusual because last semester you turned in every single assignment given to you. They also say that during free periods when everycreature is talking, you prefer to remain silent.”

Smolder scowled at the counselor and gritted her teeth. “What’s all this leading to?”

“We’re concerned for your mental health. Have you harmed yourself in any way recently?”

“I’m going to stop you right there!” Smolder blurted, her claw pointing accusingly toward Trixie. “Whoever told you that is full of crap.”

“Your behavior in this room says otherwise,” the counselor said.

Smolder opened her mouth, about to make a retort, when some recognition of what she was doing dawned in her eyes. The dragon closed her maw and leaned back against the couch with a huff, crossing her arms for the third time since she arrived in the room.

“Whatja looking for?” Smolder said, shooting a stern glare toward the mare across from her, smoke filtering from her nostrils.

“I want you to know, if you ever need anycreature to talk to, I’m here.”

“Yeah, and?”

“There’s no shame in admitting there’s something wrong with you. If you have something to say, come out and say it.”

Smolder leaned forward, placing an elbow on her knee and picking at her teeth with a claw. “What’s there to say?” she said. “I’ve got nothing to add.”

“Trixie thinks you’re deflecting.”

“Oh?” Smolder snapped. “What makes you think that?”

“Your mannerisms. How your voice fluctuates. The simple fact that you’re uncomfortable right now.”

Smolder placed her claws on both of her knees this time and shuffled forward. She shook her head. “I’m not uncomfortable right now.”

Trixie gave the dragon a stern gaze. “Right. So, do you have anything you want to say to me?”

“Nope.”

Trixie nodded. “Okay,” she said. The piece of paper in front of her floated off the desk and glided toward Smolder, who swiped it from the air.

She uncrumpled it in her talons and looked down at what was written. “What’s this?”

“That’s the address of a support group in town. If you feel like you need to talk to someone, then —”

“Can I go now?”

Trixie nodded and gestured with her hoof toward the door. “Be off. And remember, if you ever need something I’ll be—”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Smolder interrupted, already giving Trixie her tail. “See ya.”

She made sure to slam the door extra hard.

~•~

Smolder crumbled up the paper and set it aflame with a simple puff from her snout. After opening the door to the courtyard, she threw the blackening memento out into the snow and shut the door. Just the sight of it made her want to contort her face in rage.

Whatever… she thought. I don’t even need it. I have the address memorized.

She wandered down the corridor. Her thoughts were everywhere, not a single one finding a foothold for linear progression. One would come up, and it would be clouded by the next. There she was in the room with Counselor Trixie, there she was in the locker room after cheer practice, and now here she was trying to figure out a way to not go to the meetings without Counselor Trixie finding out. Perhaps she could bribe the organizer?

“Excuse me!” came a voice from down the hall.

Smolder looked up to see the tallest hippogriff she had ever seen prancing her way. She knew that hippogriffs could grow to be pretty big, but to see one of that size and stature in person was enough for her to stop and gawk out of sheer curiosity.

The hippogriff stopped in front of her, panting. “Winded myself a little there,” he chuckled. He had a smooth voice with an almost musical undertone. The hippogriff had obsidian black feathers with tufts of white sprouting down his chest like a tuxedo. The most notable feature, however, was his sunglasses. It was how he didn’t tilt his head down to communicate with her. To any other creature, it would have been intimidating. To Smolder, it made him look like a punk. If this stranger was a punk, then woah boy, would she love to shove her claws right up his—

“Sorry to bother you, but I’m lost.”

Smolder looked up at his face. He only stood a head taller, which is perfect punching height if someone asked her. An upswing would set him adaze, and then she could use some of her fire breath to chase him off… although she knew that she was just on edge from her meeting with Counselor Trixie.

Smolder crossed her arms and snorted, a cloud of smoke puffing through her nostrils and wafting into his face. He stood there, waiting for a response, unflinching.

“Yeah, and?” she said rudely.

Nothing on the hippogriff's face shifted, but he did place a talon against his chest in defense. “I would just like to know where the headmare’s office is. I’m supposed to have a meeting with her.”

Smolder nudged her head toward the hallway behind her. “Down the hall, turn the corner. It’s smackdab at the end. Later.”

Smolder had just walked past him when he cleared his throat. “Are you the only dragon at this school?”

She stopped, turned around with an eyebrow raised. “What’s it to you?”

“Nothing,” the hippogriff said. “I’ve just never seen a dragon before.”

Smolder gave him a single nod. “I’ve never seen a hippogriff your size before.”

“So that makes that makes something we've both never seen.”

“Hm,” Smolder hummed. Figuring that the conversation was over, she turned back around and began walking down the hallway again. “Later.”

"Goodbye."

The two parted, and Smolder headed over toward the cafeteria, the delicious scent of pizza tickling her nostrils.

~•~

Starlight gently blew and watched the neatly rolled-up scroll wheel across the surface of the desk before falling over the edge. She huffed a contemptuous sigh and closed her eyes. It felt good, but it could do more. Starlight was tired, but her mind was so occupied with all of time at once that she couldn’t even get a wink of sleep.

She stayed up the entirety of the other night talking to guards, writing letters to Twilight — just trying to sort through the whole mess. When the mess was taken care of (if that could be said), there was still the matter of grading the semester’s finals. Trixie said she would do the rest, then Starlight had that nightmare, and at most, she got an estimate of twenty minutes sleep out of the thirty-four hours she had been awake.

Starlight glanced over toward the sundial clock at the edge of her desk and wanted to shake and scream at it. It was nearing noon, and she still hadn’t had any shuteye. She rolled her forehead along the desk’s surface and tried to stop light from shining through her eyelids by blocking it with an arm, but that just felt uncomfortable. Then, as she slowly began to drift away again, there came a knock at the door.

It was so sudden that she was startled, and for only a second, she forgot how tired she was. Then the wave came back, and her head felt heavy. She groaned inwardly.

Sighing, she yelled, “Come in!”

The door on the other side of the room swung open, and in walked a hippogriff. Starlight had seen hippogriffs before, but something about this one was… different. It could have been the way the feathers on his head were slicked back or the shades on his face. Perhaps it was the broad smile he wore. It could also be that she was tired.

“Hi!” he said, stopping directly in front of her desk. “Are you the headmare?”

Starlight nodded. “Yes. You can call me —”

“Headmare Starlight. I’m familiar with you.”

Starlight shut her mouth immediately and squinted at the mysterious hippogriff. “Have we met?”

The hippogriff sat on his haunches and leaned against the desk, right arm placed along the edge and a single claw twirling around the rim of a mug. His face remained set onto hers. “I spoke to the blue one. The counselor, is she?”

He waited for a response, and Starlight gave him one in the form of a very small nod.

“She said you came into the teacher’s lounge acting a little berserk. That you blew up the coffee maker, and —”

“Okay, who are you?” Starlight interrupted. If she wasn’t so tired she would have the restraint to hold back any rude comments, but almost two nights without any sleep is enough to make anyone short-tempered.

“Who am I?” The hippogriff straightened up, picked his arm up from the edge of the desk, and pointed at himself. “Well, yes, I suppose I haven’t introduced myself yet…” He lifted his wing, revealing a black leather satchel at his side. He pulled out something shiny and held it in front of Starlight’s face. “I’m with Canterlot’s detective branch. I was sent to investigate the happenings here in Ponyville.”

He was slipping the badge back into the satchel when Starlight asked, “Is there a name I can call you, detective?”

The hippogriff snorted. “Besides asshole, douchebag, or loon? You can call me Mr. Black.”

“Hmm,” Starlight hummed. “That sounds like an alias.”

“My real name will not be disclosed during this conversation. All information about myself is to remain strictly confidential. You don’t know me, and I know more about you than you should care for me to know about you.”

Starlight gave Mr. Black an uneasy stare. “Right,” she muttered. “So, Lemongrass…”

“I suspect there’s a killer about. Although, I suspect it was obvious to you as well.”

Starlight raised her brows but nodded for him to continue.

“The coroner says it was an animal from the Everfree, and the Ponyville Police Department agrees. The question is, what kind of animal would walk through town in the middle of the night to attack a student in an enclosed era?”

“So what do you think?”

“I think the murderer is someone at this school.”

Starlight reared her head back in wide-eyed shock. As much as it didn’t surprise her to hear that it could have been one of the students, the simple vocalization homed in the fact for her.

“This is just a hunch,” Mr. Black continued, “but it’s a good hunch. A mountain stands behind the school, so there is no escaping from out the back. Meaning that if it was a creature from the Everfree, it would have to enter through the other side of town without spooking anyone. Not just that, but another body was found earlier this morning.”

Starlight grew pale. I knew it, she thought. I knew that dream was real. The feeling was surreal. She had simultaneously felt in and out of her body when it happened, and the confirmation that it actually happened was enough to make her want to hurl.

She took a deep gulp. Maybe it was a different body? Maybe, in some bizarre twist, the trauma evoked her brain to process some nightmare where she would bear witness to another murder. Maybe Skeedaddle was still alive and she could breathe a sigh of relief… or maybe not in this case, when the subject of another murder was being discussed.

She inhaled air through her nostrils. “Was it a student?”

“No. But, it was a colt.”

He said it as simply as one would say, “It’s going to rain.” Immediately, Starlight’s face grew paler.

“Is there a name to it?” she forced out.

“As of now? The body still has yet to be identified. His head had been completely crushed, rendering him unrecognizable. He hadn’t even gotten his cutie mark yet.”

It was both real and unreal. Starlight felt like she was in a dream state where reality flowed like water. She saw it. Starlight saw Skeedaddle get murdered and was completely helpless to stop it. The sheer memory of it—the exact crackling sounds his skull made; the contours of his face caving; the way his brain matter drizzled down his—

Starlight didn’t realize that she hadn’t eaten in the last two days until she hunched over, lurched into the trashcan next to her desk, and all that came out was stomach acid. She was almost glad she hadn’t eaten too, because if she could have, she would have sat in her office all day cuddled up next to the canister.

Mr. Black stood up and came around the desk, for the first time actually tilting his head down to look at Starlight. “Listen,” he said, patting the mare’s back as her head hung over the hole. “I know it’s difficult, but I need information. The colt’s body was found on the outskirts nearest to the school. If Lemongrass was found in the courtyard, and the unidentified colt was found nearby, that must mean that the murderer is here at the school.”

Starlight didn’t want to hear it. She couldn’t hear it. Mr. Black’s voice was white noise. Starlight sat up and leaned her back against the wall with bile-infused saliva drooling down her chin. All she could hear was ticking.

Then, the whole world came back as Mr. Black snapped his claws in front of her face. “I need you here with me. I asked a question.”

The hippogriff moved the trashcan aside and laid down on his stomach in front of Starlight, coming face-to-face with her. He reached an arm toward his face and removed his sunglasses, revealing pure blue irises that shined beneath the lights of the room. The expression on his face was one of concern.

“Are there any carnivores in this school?”

“W-why?” Starlight uttered.

Mr. Black glanced back toward the trashcan and nodded his head toward it. “Are you going to need that again?”

Starlight shook her head lightly. “I think that’s all my body will allow.”

“Okay,” the hippogriff bobbed his head up and down. “Pieces of Lemongrass’s brain were found with bite marks.”

She clenched her eyes shut, feeling more of that queasy urge to vomit.

“It was different with the colt. We found pieces mushed up, but they were pieces nonetheless. While his head was crushed, Lemongrass’s was gnawed off. This gives me the impression that the culprit is not only a fang-toothed creature but has the power to crack a skull without repeated force. I need to know: do you have any such students?”

“N-nah—” Starlight was trying to find a way to say no. Was there a student like that? The only fang-toothed creature in the school was Smolder, but Starlight knew it wasn’t her. She knew without a doubt that the only creature capable of doing that was—

“Do you have any creatures at this school with shapeshifting abilities?”

It was like he read her mind, and when Starlight glanced into his eyes, it looked as if he was boring into her very soul.

“Ye-yes,” she answered. “We have a changeling. But why—”

“I was just curious.” The hippogriff put his sunglasses on and stood back up, then looked down at her. “Where is your library? I need to do a bit of research.”

Starlight stared up at him. “It’s… in the east wing. Down the hall from the cafeteria.”

“Right, thank you. And might I procure the student catalog whenever you are feeling up to it?”

Starlight nodded, feeling dizzy as she did.

“Great,” he said, turning around and heading toward the door. “I’ll come to you when I have more questions.”

The door to the room slammed shut, and Starlight was left alone with her thoughts. She sat there for exactly half an hour long. She would know: she kept count of the minutes.

~•~

Ocellus woke up and thought it was night. Then, she felt the cold, hard floor against her back and realized that she wasn’t even in her room. She wasn’t sure where she was, except that it was a place with no windows, was very dark, and had a weird fermenting smell.

A peculiar howl sang beyond the darkness. It was like a dozen low-pitched whistles had been taken and distorted to make a sound that closely resembled something of an otherworldly creature. She sat up, trying to peer through the darkness.

When nothing resonated with her vision, Ocellus lit her horn so that it emitted a dim glow. And she shrieked.

All over, the floor was blood, dried to the point of crust. The changeling looked down and saw that she too was covered in blood. Lots of it. She might as well have bathed in it. The sheer sight of it was enough to make her shriek louder and tears blur her vision.

She stood up, forcing the ball of light at the end of her horn to brighten — then she saw it. It, per se, stepped back into the darkness, and through her tear-blind ocelli, she saw the long limb of a creature’s leg. It made a noise that sounded like a million screams, albeit brief.

Ocellus stepped back, breathing heavily. It’s just a dream, it’s just a dream… she thought. She continued to back up, hoping that her rear-end would brush up against a wall, which she could use to guide herself out. A head appeared from the darkness.

Ocellus jolted in shock, thinking for a moment that the creature was coming out of the black to snatch her, but she breathed a sigh of relief when she realized that it was a colt.

He had a bi-colored mane and blue coat, and although she had never met him, Ocellus had seen him around town occasionally, especially around the CMC.

“What are you doing here?” she asked him in a gentle whisper. “Are your parents around?”

The colt blinked and continued to stare at her. Ocellus blinked back and took a step forward, and that was when it happened. The colt’s right eyeball popped out of its socket and dangled over his cheek. Ocellus screamed and stumbled backward.

“Where are you going?” it said. Blood dribbled from its mouth as it spoke.

Ocellus didn’t stop to inquire. She turned and ran in the other direction. She wouldn’t even say it was like navigating a maze because, in a maze, she would have an indication of where to go. So, the changeling continued to run, run, and run, in an endless direction. Until she tripped.

Strange liquid splashed everywhere as she fell into a pool of sorts. Her mouth filled with the taste of copper, and Ocellus had a good idea of what she fell into. But she didn’t want to admit it. Denial was the best suppressant to get her away from all this trauma.

The changeling resurfaced and opened her eyes, leering beyond the lake of red. As nauseous as it made her feel, she had to cross it. It was either that or take her chances with that thing behind her.

The sudden reminder of that thing supposedly still creeping up on her was enough to make Ocellus start running, picking up waves of crimson as she did. At some point, one of her legs brushed against something soft, and she almost tripped a few times. Her motivation to get across was what saved her. Ocellus wanted to stop and hurl right there, but she had to do this first! She would stave off the vomiting when she reached the end.

Just when the changeling thought she would never reach the other side, a ledge that stood only a tad taller than herself came into view. Ocellus’s splashing halted as relief flooded her body. Then, she heard it: something in the distance splashed behind her.

Fueled by panic once again, Ocellus fluttered her wings and tried taking to the air. She got about a foot above the surface of the rich red ichor before something grabbed her hind leg and tried to pull her back beneath the surface.

She managed to get her hooves over the ledge, although that wasn’t enough. The thing trying to pull her in responded by tugging harder. Ocellus, forelegs covered and lubricated with the dark liquid, screamed as her hooves nearly slipped from the ledge. She was sure that the thing had her, but as she was about to fall in, another hoof came out of the darkness and hooked over her foreleg.

Ocellus looked up at the figure that was holding onto her and wanted to scream again. She wanted to scream as loud as she could on the off-chance that it could somehow pierce the creature’s ears so that it’d let go of her and she could try her luck out with the thing already trying to drag her into the pool of red ichor.

The creature in front of her was a pony. And that pony was Lemongrass. Only, she was missing the top of her head, and her eyes were bloodshot to the point that it made her look demonic.

“It’s in Canterlot,” the creature whispered. “Go to Canterlot.”

“What?” Ocellus yelled back at it. “What are you talking about?”

“Go to Canterlot,” Lemongrass said again.

She let go of Ocellus. The changeling screamed, and the scream was replaced by gurgling as she got quickly dragged beneath the surface of the blood.

Chapter 6 - Study Session

Mr. Black garnered quickly that the book he was reading wasn’t going to be much help. The Yakstanian Diet mostly covered a variety of vegetable dishes and how to properly grow food in winter climates. He tossed the book on top of three other books in front of him that he dubbed his Useless Stack. Next to the Useless Stack was the Not Quite Useless Stack, which had two books in it. Next to that one was the I Think I’m Onto Something Stack. This one had none.

Mr. Black reached to the left for his Pending Inquiries Stack, grabbed another book, and laid it open in front of him to the first page. He started with the table of contents, then moved on to the text. It must have been half an hour before he decided that the book had nothing of value to offer, so he shut it and set it in the Useless Stack.

This process was repeated three more times. A normal creature would have yawned at the mundanity of the task, but then again, not every creature had the mental fortitude he had. This was the most relaxation Mr. Black had had since the train ride into town, and even that was spent going over the report given to him and running through several procedures in his head.

When he figured that the next book also didn’t have anything resourceful to offer, he chucked it onto the Useless Stack and reached for another book to his left. He laid it down in front of him, examining its cover. Its title was intriguing, and he was sure that he had heard about it at some point during his training courses. It was never discussed— if so he would remember. But there was that one offhand reference when his college professor was jabbering about Black Swan Theory.

Mr. Black opened the book and began reading the prelude.

Changeling Theory: An Analysis on the Origin and Influence of the Equestrian Changeling

by Aster Blackwillow

Introduction
When a pony is born into this world, they do not always enter it alone.

When a pony is first shunted out into the blinding chaos of this mortal life, there is a chance that another life enters alongside them. Unseen by onlooking midwives or parents, distracted as they are, it creeps out from the shadow of a new life’s gift. As a young filly cries out in confusion, and in terror, as the thread connecting them to the bliss of the womb is severed, this second life enters the world silently. Calmly. It scans the blinding light of the world not with the fear of its twin, but with insatiable, hungry greed.

And, quickly, crawling upon motes of dust, or within the veil of shadows, this creature slinks away into the world unseen.

This creature does not journey far. It watches from the glints of light just outside of our peripheral gaze. It perches in every dark corner of the room, driven by the same hunger it has felt since entering this life. It is the glimmer of movement one can never be quite certain they truly saw. It stalks its twin, never seen, but often felt by any lonely soul who might find themselves watched from within an empty room. Though a floorboard may creak, or a light breeze may send a curtain on a slight wayward wave, its twin will eventually sigh, or laugh to themselves for their foolishness, and turn away once more to their own mortal distractions.

And safely hidden, the creature will continue to wait in silence.

There will one day come a time in this pony’s life when the creature will cease its waiting. Sometimes, it will spend decades stalking its twin from the peripheral. Watching as its twin grows, and learns to navigate the strange world they share. The creature perhaps learns, too, of the world it can never truly inhabit by its own hooves. Other times, however, the creature’s patience endures moments, and it strikes at the same moment the infant enters the world. Perhaps the infernal wailing of its twin is enough to drive it into action. Perhaps it simply does not care enough about its world to bother learning how to inhabit it. The desires of the creature seem as inexplicable as the very nature of its being.

When this creature’s patience ends, so too does the life of its twin.

And, so too, does the creature’s own life begin anew.

Around them, the world carries on uninterrupted. Nary a leaf rustled, nary the sound of a hoof scuffing against the ground. From dust, the creature has emerged, and to dust its twin returns. And from the same pony’s eyes, the creature looks out at the life it had been watching. A faint glint of green may shimmer in its irises for but a moment, perhaps indistinguishable from a simple trick of the light.

Thus, changes will occur. The lives that the twin has known may notice a behaviour change. Depending on how patient the creature has been, these changes may not be detected for years, if at all. Slight alterations to attitude, to preferences, to interests, and nothing more.

Or, the changes may be dramatic. To the friends of the creature’s twin—madness. If the creature has chosen to strike the infant foal, then no change will ever have truly occurred to anypony but the foal themselves.

But at the moment of the hunt, nothing has truly changed to the outside world. For nopony has seen the creature strike.

A pony’s hoof has entered the world, and the creature’s hooves will continue the pony’s stride without a missed beat.

And into the world, fueled by the same calm precision that had framed its waiting, The Changeling emerges.

Mr. Black slammed the book shut and threw it into the I Think I’m Onto Something Stack.

~•~

"Want one?"

Sandbar scowled at the cigarette in Gallus's hand. "Where did you get that, dude?"

Gallus shook the pack of Cherry Delights: Classic in the pony's face. "Smolder sold it to me. The school regulates it for her because the smoke helps her respiratory system. Her words were, 'Something something dragon anatomy slash shitty cigarettes helps my immune system since pony air is too clean.' Sounds like BS to me. I think she stole them."

He held the cigarette in his other talon out toward Sandbar and repeated, "Want one?"

"We're in the library, bro," the pony bit.

Gallus held both of his talons up defensively. "I didn't mean you have to smoke it now. You can wait until we're at the Treehouse.”

Sandbar shook his head in disapproval. “No. I don’t want one. Put that away before somepony sees it.” Normally, he tried his best to use the “somecreature” pronoun in place of the common “somepony” pronoun, but all concerns for punctuality went out the window the moment contraband was shoved in his face. He had a right to be concerned. Even holding a cigarette on school grounds was an offense worthy of suspension.

Gallus, however, seemed to recognize that he was stretching the line. He slid the cigarette back into the packet and stuffed it down his sweater. He laid both of his talons down on the table in front of him. They were in one of the cozier parts of the library, unaware that somewhere on the other side, Mr. Black was doing his research. It was sectioned off by four surrounding bookshelves. While Gallus playfully tapped his claws against the table’s surface, Sandbar slouched back in the beanbag chair in the corner and sighed loudly.

“Why aren’t you upset, dude?”

Gallus stopped tapping. “What?”

Sandbar slapped his hooves to his lap in frustration. “Why aren’t you upset about what happened on your date with Silverstream?”

“Eh,” Gallus shrugged. “Shit happens. We can try again during the break, probably.”

“What if she wants to go home during the break? I don’t think Silverstream wants to be cooped up at the school all year long.”

“I’m pretty sure she doesn’t mind staying for a little while longer.”

Sandbar raised his head from the beanbag chair. “And if she does?”

“So she doesn’t want to stay at the school for the break. No biggie.”

“I think it is a biggie, my dude. You just asked her out and you two are already about to be separated for two weeks. Why don’t you try going with her to Mount Aris?”

“I barely wanted to travel to Ponyville. You think I want to travel across the country to a place that’s surrounded by the ocean? I can’t even swim! Besides, it’s too cold to leave town. I’d rather go during the summer.”

Sandbar sat up, his face scrunched into a stark scowl. “You have a lot to learn about this relationship thing.”

Gallus quirked a brow. “What do you mean?”

“You can’t just do whatever you want anymore. You have a girlfriend. You do what they want, now.”

Gallus scratched at the neck feathers below his beak. “I don’t get it.”

Sandbar reeled his head back and groaned toward the ceiling. “Look,” he said, uprighting his head again. “You’ve seen how Yona and I are, right?”

Gallus nodded. “Yeah.”

“Relationships are a full-time thing, my dude. If you go off to do your own thing, she’s going to get tired of you pretty quick.”

This time it was Gallus’s turn to groan. He rubbed the back of his neck, letting out the sound from his beak for several long seconds and shifting in his pillow uncomfortably. “Nocreature told me that was part of the agenda.” He placed both talons on the surface of the table in front of him and began to inattentively drum against it.

“Where is she now?” Sandbar asked.

Gallus stopped drumming. “In her room. We broke off after we hit the school. She looked pretty depressed.”

“So you left her alone, then.” It wasn’t a question. It was a simple acknowledgment that…

“I fucked up, didn’t I?” Gallus interposed.

Sandbar responded with a slow yet curt nod.

Gallus groaned again, laying his face against the table, both talons clenched into a fist alongside his head. “I’m gonna have to talk to her, aren’t I?”

“Yep,” Sandbar said casually.

Gallus sat back up. “Right,” he said. “I think I’ll go do that now.”

He stood up and turned, but as he made his move to leave, Sandbar called, “Wait! Dude, we were supposed to talk about how we were going to get to the castle for movie night, remember?”

They had thought that the snow would die down by now, but then Ponyville Weather Station announced a forecast of snowfall for the rest of the week. That made transferring his grandfather’s old sixteen-millimeter projector difficult.

Gallus turned his head slightly, acknowledging the pony’s presence but still clearly distracted by his own current agenda. “Yeah, yeah, there’s a shortcut in the caves beneath the school. We can move the equipment through there.”

The griffon immediately disappeared behind a bookshelf.

“Wait, dude!” Sandbar called for him again. “What happened to Professor Oinkals?”

When he realized that he wasn’t going to get a response, he leaned back into his beanbag chair and sighed.

~•~

“Silverstream!” Ocellus exclaimed, sitting up in bed and clapping both forehooves to her cheeks. “You’re wearing your emotional support sweater! What’s wrong?”

Silverstream looked away from the opened armoire, her What Happens In Las Pegas, Stays In Las Pegas sweater draped over her right foreleg. At first, Ocellus was asleep. She heard some rustling on the other side of the room and guessed that it was Silverstream coming back from her date with Gallus. However, when she opened her eyelid a smidge to see what the hippogriff was up to, she was shocked into wakefulness by the sight of the emotional support sweater.

Silverstream’s emotional support sweater was very fluffy and bright mustard yellow. It had a picture of an egg — sunny side up — on its front with the words I’m Eggcellent! stitched in colorful pink cursive above it. Silverstream liked this sweater because it was soft and because eggs are delicious.

“Nothing,” Silverstream said plainly. “I just felt like changing. What’s wrong with that?”

“Well, nothing. But you only wear your I’m Eggcellent! sweater when you’re upset about something.”

The hippogriff shrugged and chucked the previous sweater she was wearing into the armoire. “I guess I just felt like wearing it today.” She shut the double doors and threw the latch over the handles. “It’s snuggly.”

The changeling patted the empty spot next to her on the bed. “Do you want to sit?”

Silverstream looked away banefully. “Do you have something you want to get off your chest, Ocellus?”

Ocellus stared at a Silverstream for a second too long. Did she… did she know? No, she couldn’t. Ocellus was the only one to know that Lemongrass had di— even thinking about it made her lightheaded. Maybe telling Silverstream would help her stave through it? If the hippogriff knew, then she was probably waiting for Ocellus to spiel first.

She opened her mouth, ready to say it — all of it, but then a quick rapping at the door stopped her.

“I’ll get it,” Silverstream said, already walking toward the door.

She blinked in surprise to see Gallus standing behind the door. “Yo, what’s up?” he said.

Silverstream scrunched up her face in confusion. “What are you doing here? I thought you had planning to do with Sandbar.”

He shrugged. “We finished early. Besides, I wanted to come check on you. You seemed a little upset.”

“A little!” she exclaimed. Gallus flinched back a little at the sudden waver in her voice.

A-ha! Ocellus thought triumphantly. I knew something was wrong!

Silverstream halted, probably realizing that she gave too much away to the changeling in just a single sentence.

“I knew you were upset by something!” Ocellus blurted, pointing at her.

Silverstream lowered her head and sighed. Looking back up at Gallus, she whispered, “I think we should tell her that we know.”

Gallus raised a brow. “Are you sure?”

“She’s probably going through a lot of emotions right now. She needs to let loose.”

Gallus looked past her and toward Ocellus, who was looking back at the two of them in confusion. He nodded. “Fine.”

Silverstream stepped aside to let the griffon in. He closed the door behind him and began to pace frantically around the room. “Shit,” Ocellus could hear him muttering under his breath. “I’m not good at this sort of stuff.”

“I’ll start,” Silverstream offered. She looked back at the changeling and pointed at the spot next to her. “Is the offer still up to sit with you?”

Ocellus nodded slowly, confused about what they were going to say to her. Silverstream took a deep breath and sighed. She sat down on the bed next to Ocellus, who looked from Gallus and back to her. She swallowed. The silence was already getting uncomfortable, but for Ocellus, it was even worse. Deep down inside, she knew what this was about. She knew that they would somehow find out on their own.

“So,” Silverstream finally spoke. “We know that Lemongrass is dea—” she choked on her own words, eyes gleaming. She tried again. “We know that Lemongrass is d—” she choked back another sob.

“Lemongrass is dead,” Gallus finished for her. “We know about it.”

The hippogriff shot him a glare. He simply looked at her in confusion and mouthed, “What?” at her.

Ocellus wasn’t fazed by his bluntness. She did, however, sigh at the revelation. “Yeah, I found out the other day.” She shivered. “I can’t get it out of my head.” To Silverstream, she probably thought that she was referring to the simple knowledge that someone she knew was dead. Ocellus meant the corpse in her dream. Not just that, but the corpse she saw in her vision when she touched Starlight. It was plastered in her mind, forever embedded.

Silverstream placed a talon on her shoulder. “Why didn’t you tell us?”

“Headmare Starlight made me swear not to tell. Anyone. It would have caused a massive freakout, because —” she cut herself off. Did she want to tell them that a deranged killer was going about chewing off heads? No, Headmare Starlight was right. Her friends would only panic. Ocellus didn’t want them to do that.

“Because what?” Silverstream insisted. Her talon felt warm against her shoulder.

Ocellus was good at coming up with lies on the spot. It was part of her upbringing in Queen Chrysalis’s hive. To be a member of the hive, one had to be a good actor. To be a good actor, one had to be a good liar.

Her mind went blank.

Ocellus blinked. She opened her mouth, ready to spin a whole slew of words together that would sound satisfying to anycreature. Nothing. Nothing came out. She tried to think, and all she could come up with was nothing.

Ocellus was quiet long enough for Silverstream to cast a nervous glance back toward Gallus. He shrugged. The griffon stepped forward and lowered to his haunches in front of her.

“Do you want to tell us?” he asked.

Ocellus didn’t look at Gallus directly. She looked at the doorway behind him that led into the bathroom. She could see her reflection in the mirror. It nodded back at her with a sneery grin.

“No…” Ocellus mumbled although she didn’t know who or what she said it to.

Gallus tilted his head much like a confused dog. “What?”

Her eyelids fluttered. For no reason in particular, Ocellus suddenly found Gallus’s face to be very annoying to look at.

“I said no.” The words came out clear and simple this time.

Gallus blinked, looking petrified by her bluntness. “Well, can you —”

“Can you shut the fuck up?”

The room grew quiet. Silverstream held her breath, and Gallus barely moved a muscle. It got to the point where Ocellus could hear both of their heartbeats.

“Why don’t you…” Ocellus got down from the bed, standing nose to beak with Gallus. She jabbed a hoof into his chest. “Back the fuck off, ‘kay? This is my business, not yours. There was a reason I didn’t want to tell you, and I expect you to respect that reason. Kapeesh?”

Gallus tried to blink out some of the spittle that flew into his eye. “Say it, don’t spray it. Geez…”

“Ocellus, what’s got into you?” Silverstream asked. Ocellus felt a talon wrapping around her right foreleg, but she slapped it away.

Silverstream pulled her talon back with a hurt look.

“Get the fuck out,” Ocellus said calmly. An eerie silence filled the room as both Gallus and Silverstream remained cemented in place. She acknowledged neither directly, but she didn’t have to look at their faces to recognize the dread in their eyes.

Gallus continued. “Ocellus, are you —”

“Get out!” she screamed. Sitting on her haunches, she used both of her forelegs to push Gallus as hard as she could. He fell to the ground belly-up with a huff. Ocellus was a little relieved that he didn’t land on anything hard, but all feelings of empathy quickly receded. “Get out! I want to be alone.”

Silverstream hopped off the bed from behind Ocellus and tugged Gallus’s arm. “Let’s get out of here,” she said.

Gallus rolled onto his stomach and stood up. He took a step toward the door and stopped. He looked back at Ocellus, a scowl etched into his face. After a few too many seconds, it softened and he mumbled, “Hope you can make it to movie night.”

The two left the room after that. Ocellus was now all alone.

Stupid mutt and her orphan boyfriend… she thought. Ocellus held her breath. What was she thinking? She would never say anything like that about her friends! But, she said several things like it just then.

Her mind cleared — somewhat. Now it was running a million miles an hour. Every thought was followed by another. Every wholesome thought was discouraged by anxiety. She did it. She swore at her friends and pushed Gallus onto the ground.

Ocellus looked back up at the bathroom mirror, but her vision was blocked by something in the doorway. She gaped in shock. It wasn’t something, it was someone.

And that someone was Ocellus, looking back at her herself with a sinister sneer.

Author's Notes:

A very special thank you to NorristhePony for writing the Changeling Theory exert at the beginning of the chapter.

For those who are curious about why this chapter took so long to push out, it's because there are two more almost ready to be published. This one right here was meant to be the end of the first act, but then I saw the word count... well, l'll just say that 16,000 words would be difficult for the average reader to trudge through. Expect more very soon!

Chapter 7 - Dream Sweet

The pitter-patter of hoofsteps echoed in Trixie’s ear. Just a few more hours… she thought.

She was making her way toward the headmare’s office, a stack of ungraded papers trailing through the air behind her. It felt as though the door was a million miles away. It seemed for every two feet she covered, the hallway would add another ten to itself.

Trixie sighed, quickly following it up with a yawn. A few more hours, and she would be able to get her beauty sleep. That was it. Trixie must have gotten about five/six hours of shuteye within the last two days. She looked forward to falling into her pillow and letting the power of sleep lift the weights from her legs, which she was practically dragging along the floor.

More importantly, Trixie wanted all of this to be over soon. As much as she cared for Starlight and wanted this chaos to end just as much as she did, Trixie barely had time to work on her magic. The tragedy!

It wasn’t the simple fact that Trixie hadn’t gotten to perform any impressive feats of magic. It was more the fact that she could feel herself entering a creative-deprive. Magic was a part of her. Simply separating her from the ability to perform was enough to send her mind into a haze. When Trixie wasn’t thinking about new spells to construct and show off, she was thinking about other stuff.

The stuff she didn’t want to think about. Trixie preferred to suppress those thoughts for the time being before their ugly heads poked out. There were other things on her mind: if she graded these papers now, she would have the rest of the weekend to sleep and work on her magic.

Trixie arrived at the door to the headmare’s office. Enveloping it in a blue aura, it opened, and — the disarray of the room was almost enough to make her drop the stack of papers from midair out of sheer shock.

The headmare’s office was a mess with various items scattered everywhere. The storage closet hung wide open. Trixie didn’t have to look inside to guess that every single box was taken out and had its contents dumped onto the floor.

Trixie stepped inside and kicked aside a box labeled UNWANTED FABRICS: DONATE TO RARITY. She got a good scan of the room. Immediately, several theories came to mind. Maybe one of the students thought it would be a funny prank, but who would do that? She wanted to believe that all of the students were smart enough to know that something like this is not cool — and then she was reminded of Cozy Glow. Ah, yes. After Cozy Glow, every teacher at the School of Friendship had a harsh realization that any student was capable of discord.

It was the only conclusion that Trixie was capable of jumping to. It was not like a burglar decided to prance through the school mid-day when everyone was hanging out on campus. She sighed, knowing that somecreature was about to get in a lot of trouble.

Trixie floated the stack of ungraded papers toward the desk on the other side of the room and set them down. Focusing her magic onto a sewing machine laying on its side, she was about to begin the process of cleaning when she heard something that sounded similar to that of sheets rustling. And then she could see movement from the corner of her eye.

Starlight, cocooned in pink, glittery fabric, was laying on the floor amidst the mess. At first, Trixie didn’t know what to think. She was so sure that a student had broken into the office barbarian-style that realizing Starlight may have been the cause of the chaos felt like an aftershock. Then, once Trixie fully recognized the situation, she wanted to pull her hair out.

“Starlight!” Trixie yelled.

Starlight responded by murmuring something incomprehensible and shifting a little onto her side. Trixie sighed — as loud and tangible to the ear as possible. Starlight slept peacefully.

It’s okay… she thought. Let her sleep. She hasn’t slept like this in quite a while. After all, it would be the friend-ly thing to do.

That word. Friend. The moment it appeared in her mind, it felt like it never existed before. In fact, as she rolled that word over in her head, again and again, an urge came over Trixie. An urge to strangle the sleeping mare.

Not yet, a voice spoke from the back of her mind. Or was it in the room? Trixie was so sleep-deprived that she couldn’t tell. Not until it’s done. She’s too important for what’s in store.

And, like that, Trixie’s mind went black. Everything she was thinking about, she suddenly stopped thinking about. Everything she thought about before, she suddenly forgot that she thought about it. The simple idea of thinking became abstract nonsense to her, and as new thoughts began to enter her head, Trixie gradually started to realize that she was still in a room, amidst a mess, in front of a sleeping Starlight, and that there were still papers to be graded!

At that moment, Trixie felt stupid. Stupid in that she didn’t realize that she had been standing in place for an entire minute thinking about nothing. Rather than further berate herself, she gathered her ego back up and decided there was nothing stupider than being caught in the act of doing something stupid by someone else. For that, she was grateful nocreature saw her.

The fabric strewn over Starlight became enveloped in a light blue aura. Along with how glittery it already was, Trixie thought it looked especially pretty the way it glistened in response to her magic. Maybe that could be a new concept for a trick? Trixie was sure that Rarity wouldn’t miss this fabric. She could already hear the hoity-toity mare scoffing at the hot pink faux-fur and commenting about how putting glitter on pre-existing fabrics was like putting salt on salt rocks to improve the flavor. If that made sense. Probably. To Spike, it would.

Trixie was folding the fabric midair when something caught her eye. She looked down and saw that Starlight was clutching something to her chest. A box.

Focusing her magic on it, Trixie slid the box out from beneath Starlight’s hooves and hovered it in front of her face. It was metallic for sure — that she could infer from the rust. Two gold bands perpendicular to each other arched over the lid, perfectly framing the keyhole in the center.

Lucky for Trixie, the small chest was already unlocked. It opened with a loud squeeeek! but not loud enough to wake Starlight. Inside the box was a gemstone of some sort. It was a dark green color, about the size of the circumference of Trixie’s hoof.

You tore the room apart to find this? she thought. Then, she noticed something interesting: the gemstone didn’t reflect the light of the room but rather emitted its own soft green glow.

There was a humming sound from within.

“Don’t touch it!”

Trixie had just snapped the box shut out of panic when Starlight leaped off the floor and swiped it out of her hooves. Starlight turned away from Trixie, cradling it to her chest.

“Starlight…” Trixie said, hardly budging a muscle out of fear of provoking her. “Are you alright?”

Starlight didn’t respond. Well, she didn’t respond to Trixie. Instead, she lowered her head and whispered into the box. Whatever Starlight was saying, it was incomprehensible and all Trixie could make out was psst-psst-psst.

Trixie placed a hoof on Starlight’s shoulder. Starlight’s head shot up straight. Without turning, she said, “What?”

It was like a stab to Trixie. She knew that Starlight was sleep-deprived, but this? She was scared. Not scared of Starlight, but scared of what she might do in this state.

“Are you okay?” Trixie asked.

This time Starlight did turn, revealing eyes that were wide and hateful. “Yes. I’m fine. Why?”

“Nothing. You just seem…”

“I’m fine,” Starlight stopped her. Her hateful gaze retracted into one more somber. “Sorry. I didn’t expect to be woken up so soon.”

“I can leave if—”

“No,” Starlight sighed. “I shouldn’t have snapped. I’m sorry.”

“Well…” Trixie looked around the room, examining the mess. “Mind telling Trixie why the Headmare’s office is in disarray?”

For the briefest of moment’s Trixie could see Starlight hug the box closer to her chest. “I was looking for something. But I found it. And… that’s all I could remember before I passed out.”

Trixie tilted her head a little. “Is that it?” She pointed at the box that Starlight was holding.

Starlight nodded. “Yes. I think it is. I don’t know. Kind of. I think I was supposed to send it out to Thorax.”

“Well, how about you let Trixie do that while you —”

“No!” Starlight shouted, sounding panicked. Trixie flinched back, surprised by the sudden outburst. “No,” Starlight continued. She was breathing heavily now. “I’ll… I’ll do it. J-just give me some time to sleep, and I’ll do it myself.”

“Oh—okay.”

“What did you come in here for?”

“Trixie came in here to grade the papers.”

“I’ll grade them.”

Trixie blinked. “You’re going to grade the papers and mail the box to Thorax? Don’t you have to sleep first?”

Starlight nodded quickly. “Yeah, yeah.”

“Wha—Starlight, those papers have to be graded by Monday. Trixie will do it.”

“Fine, fine,” Starlight said. “You can do it. Just take them and leave me in peace, okay?”

Trixie was befuddled. Starlight was never quick to chase her away. Yes, the mare did suffer from social anxiety on occasion, but she was usually open to sit down with a friend and talk about her day. Trixie knew that she wasn’t a very smart mare, but she was smart enough to know that despite how much sleep deprivation Starlight was suffering from, something else was wrong with her.

What that was, Trixie had no idea, and she didn’t want to dig into her friend to find out. Her time as a counselor had taught that that would just back Starlight into a corner where she would continue to deflect.

“Starlight,” Trixie said. “Will you continue to sleep when Trixie leaves?”

Starlight nodded. Trixie couldn’t help but note that she looked like a filly the way her head bobbed up and down surreptitiously.

“Right. So how about Trixie escorts you back to your chambers?”

Starlight nodded again. “Sure, sure…” She glanced down toward that box and looked up at Trixie. After lifting it into the air with her magic so that it floated beside her head, she said, “Let’s go.”

And, so far as Trixie knew, that was the end of the oddities for the day. Trixie and Starlight walked together down the corridor, neither saying anything to each other. When they made it to the room, Starlight laid down on the bed and returned to hugging the box to her chest. Trixie didn’t comment on it. She didn’t comment on anything. She just told Starlight to have a good night, shut the door, and returned to the mess that was the Headmare’s Office.

Trixie kicked stuff aside, mostly out of laziness. It was a tactic she had learned when she first moved out of her parents’ house. If she kicked everything into one big pile, she could focus all of her magic onto it and stuff it under a bed or whatever. Only there was no bed, and Starlight would be mad if she opened the storage closet the next day for every single item in her office to come crashing over her like a tidal wave.

Trixie stopped to think. Trixie could procure the mess now, or focus her remaining energy onto the papers before she enters a state of lethargy.

That seemed like the better plan to her: focus her attention on grading for now, then use that remaining energy to clean the office.

Trixie sat behind the desk and slid the paperwork forward using her telekinesis. She took the first page off the top and began the process of grading. Then, she noticed something. The lack of something.

She looked up from her paperwork to stare at the sundial clock at the edge of Starlight’s desk. It stopped ticking again. The little hand was stuck on one while the big hand was stuck on three. Trixie sighed, knowing that Starlight would be obsessing over it the next day if she didn’t fix that. There was another thing to add to the ever-growing list of Things Preventing Trixie From Sleeping.

She would do that later. For now, she had to focus on grading papers.

~•~

A thin veil of cloud covered a portion of the moon, but Mr. Black could easily infer that it was a waxing gibbous tonight. The sky was a deep, purple hue with clusters upon clusters of stars dotting its landscape, a streak of cosmic swirls running across.

Mr. Black took a puff from his cigarette and stared back down at the courtyard from his spot on the roof. His initial reasoning was that if the killer was someone at the school, it would likely be a student. His hypothesis didn’t rule out the teachers of the school, but the bite marks he found implied that the killer was a carnivore. The only carnivores at the school were, of course, students.

That didn’t rid the possibility that a pony suddenly turned psycho and wanted to try out a new fad diet either. But, the bite marks found on chunks of the first victim’s brain implied that the killer was a predator. Already, the fact that the killer had teeth ruled out the possibility that the griffon and the hippogriff were killers, and yaks didn’t have a particularly sharp set themselves. Besides, they didn’t eat meat.

That left dragons and the changeling. Obviously, the dragon had the ability to gnaw someone’s head off if she really cared to, and the changeling could shift into any creature to throw him off. Of course, he didn’t know of any cases where a changeling attacked someone and ate their remains. Any modern cases, that is.

Unlike the first victim, whose head was gnawed off, the second victim’s head was completely smashed in without repeated force. This implied that the creature that killed him both had a particularly sharp set of teeth and a particularly strong physique. Most dragons don’t develop an overwhelming amount of strength until they reach maturity, and by then they are so overgrown that they would tower over Ponyville. Surely, someone would notice that.

Mr. Black mulled over this information, and every time he reached a conclusion, it would immediately follow up with a contradiction. Conclusion: only a changeling is capable of having sharp teeth while also possessing a gargantuan amount of strength. Contradiction: not only do changelings feed off feelings, but they’re mostly vegan. Conclusion: dragons do eat meat, yes. Contradiction: this one, based on the information he gathered, is typically lazy and isn’t fully grown.

A flake landed on his beak, and Mr. Black knew that the blizzard would pick up again soon. That meant his stakeout was almost at an end. He would give it a few more minutes, and if nothing happened, he would be forced by the sheer power of nature to leave.

Luckily, he didn’t have to wait much longer. From his spot on the snow-laden roof, Mr. Black observed as the door which led into the student dorms opened, forcing mounds of snow aside. Out stepped the griffon, followed closely by the pony (Sandbar? Mr. Black thought.), who was followed by the yak (Yona.). The hippogriff hovered in the air behind them.

Mr. Black watched as they walked across the courtyard and entered through the door on the other side. It was only the four of them. Both the dragon and changeling were still inside. If his theory on the six students was correct, they were practically inseparable. He would wait and see if they chose to come out as well. Then, he would tail them.

~•~

Smolder banged on the door once more. “Yo, they’re already heading to the library!”

Nothing. Not even a rustle. Smolder tried banging on the door again, but there was still no response. Enough of this, she thought. She can sleep in if she wants to.

Smolder turned away and was about to run outside to join the others when the door opened. She always thought it was difficult to read Ocellus’s expressions at times due to the lack of pupils, but to her, the wrinkles beneath the changeling’s ocelli were a sure sign that something was wrong.

“You good?” Smolder asked.

“M-hmm,” Ocellus hummed. Her head drooped a little, but she uprighted it quickly. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

Smolder jabbed a thumb toward the exit. “We’re heading to the Treehouse right now. You should come.”

Ocellus leaned against the doorway’s frame, clearly struggling to keep her eyes open. “What for?”

“Ocellus, it’s movie night...”

At the mention of “movie night,” Ocellus’s eyes shot wide open and she stood up straight. “That’s tonight?”

Smolder tilted her head, staring at Ocellus in confusion. She could understand being tired, but the changeling was usually more headstrong than this. To Ocellus, a late-night study session before a big test was an excuse to not sleep. Despite the lack of rest, she would still have all the mental fortitude to know all of the answers.

“Yes it’s tonight,” Smolder said, narrowing her eyes. “We’ve been talking about it for almost a month… Ocellus, if you’re not feeling well, you could just sleep in.”

“No, no…” Ocellus said quickly. “I can make it! I’ll roll around in the snow without my parka if I have to.”

She took a step forward, but Smolder placed her claw against the door’s framing, blocking Ocellus from leaving. “Are you good?”

“Yes, yes I am. Just let me —”

“No, I mean…” Smolder fiddled with the words in her head, trying to figure out the right way to express them. “Silverstream told me you two got in a fight earlier. With her and Gallus. You guys good?”

Ocellus blinked. “We did?”

“W-what?” Smolder stammered. She dropped her arm to her side. Was Ocellus lying, or did she really not remember? “Th-they tried talking to you earlier about something or whatever, and you yelled at them. You even told Silverstream to shut the fuck up.”

Despite Ocellus not having pupils, Smolder could still make out the eye roll on her face. “Nice try. I might be tired, but I’m not any less stupid. Let’s go.”

Ocellus turned away from Smolder and walked over to the coat rack at the foot of her bed, floating her cyan parka off of it.

Smolder stepped into the room. “So you’re just gonna pretend that you don’t remember what happened? What if Gallus and Silverstream are still upset about it? They’re gonna wanna talk to you!”

“I have no idea what you’re saying,” Ocellus said as she fitted her forehoof through the other sleeve. “I’ve been asleep most of the day.”

“Then why are you still tired?”

Ocellus shrugged. “I don’t know. I probably just didn’t sleep that well.”

“What do you mean ‘didn’t sleep that well?’ Ocellus, you’ve been tired for the last two days!”

“And maybe I won’t be as tired tomorrow morning.” Ocellus zipped up her parka and pulled the hood over her head. “Let’s go.”

She made toward the door, but Smolder blocked her. “Why are you pretending none of that happened? It’s not like you. It’s not like you to snap, and it’s not like you to curse.”

“If Gallus and Silverstream are both upset with me about something, then we can talk about it when we get there. Please, Smolder. I want to go to movie night with you guys.”

Smolder held her ground, searching her brain for something to say. But, she was no therapist. The more she thought about it, the more she wondered why she cared so much. It wasn’t her business if her friends’ weren’t getting along with each other. Shit, she wasn’t the one fighting, so why bother? Fine. If Ocellus wanted to be that way, then Smolder couldn’t oppose it.

“Fine,” she said, breathing a deep sigh. “Let’s go.”

~•~

Mr. Black had just flicked his cigarette off the roof when the door opened again. It was the dragon. Smolder, was it? Closely followed by her was the changeling. Ocellus. The two walked across the courtyard and disappeared through the door on the other side.

It was time for him to move.

~•~

Starlight woke up.

At least, she thought she did. Her head was still in that state where it couldn’t differentiate between sleep and awareness. Her mind wandered, exploring the dream that had been playing in her mind before reality crept back in. Was there a dream? It was impossible to tell.

After a few minutes, the awareness kicked in. Starlight opened her eyes, only to be greeted by darkness. Of course. She slept until the evening. She felt much better. Like her energy was rejuvenated. Yet she hated it. She hated the idea of existing in the physical world where dreams didn’t persist. She hated the consequences of reality. Primarily, she hated the silence.

Without the ticking of the decorative sundial clock, she could hear reality for what it actually was. Silence. Nothing more and nothing less. Sometimes there was a lot of screaming and kicking involved, and sometimes there was music. But, beneath the charade that is reality, both silence and darkness forever permeated the air.

Starlight didn’t want to have these thoughts, but that was all she could think about as she lied in bed. What else was there to do? She could get up, go to the teacher’s lounge, and make some instant coffee. That would require physical effort to get out of bed, however. It wasn’t a crutch used to support laziness. It was a two-ton figurative dumbbell sitting on her chest.

Then, she thought about it more, and some more, and some more, and some more. If Starlight chose to stay in bed, she would probably lie awake the rest of the night and be miserable. However, if she got up now, she could find something to get her mind away from the thoughts. It was settled.

The time it took between leaving the room and arriving at the teacher’s lounge was absent to her. One moment she got up, and the next she was already there. It was like she didn’t even lift a hoof.

Starlight placed the kettle on the hotplate and waited for it to heat up. When steam shot out the spout, she poured the hot water into a styrofoam cup and mixed it with two spoonfuls of SureFire Instant Coffee.

Starlight sat down behind her desk and slid the top sheet off the stack of papers that laid at the edge. Then she blinked. Suddenly, it felt like many details were missing. Like her journey from the bedroom, to the teacher’s lounge, and to the office lacked attention and depth. It was all just an aimless procedure generated by her mind where the mundane became dreams and actions performed in the mundane became reality.

Starlight thought she was finally starting to understand. Perhaps. Whatever the case, it was time to address the elephant in the room and channel her thoughts through verbal means.

Starlight looked up at the elephant. “Mr. Elephant!” she said.

“That’s Doctor Ellie Font to you!” said the elephant, who sat in a large rocking chair by the fireplace that Starlight was sure was always there. He wore a silk robe the color of dark purple and a yamaka on his head. Starlight didn’t know what a yamaka was, but it sounded funny. “I did not attend eight years of medical school to be called mister.”

Starlight nodded. “You’re right. Sorry. My bad.” She gestured toward the recliner across from him. “May I join you?”

Dr. Ellie Font pulled the pipe out of his mouth using his trunk and pointed it toward the chair. “You may. I am always open when you need to vent. You should know that, Starlight.”

Starlight walked around the desk and toward the recliner. She hopped up and leaned back against its cushions, relishing in how soft it was.

“Would you like some tea?”

“No thank you,” Starlight replied. “I just drank some instant coffee.”

Dr. Ellie Font took a huff from his pipe and blew a couple of rings into the air using his trunk. “So, what do you want my dear friend? No subject is taboo with me. I have the psychology degree to provide you with the proper therapy — if therapy is what you require, that is.”

Starlight grew quiet for a moment, searching for words. The warmth of the fireplace felt nice. “Well, Dr. Ellie Font, do you think that we’re living in a dream?”

Dr. Ellie Font snorted, which came out in the form of a honk. “What are dreams but realities where everything you find unfamiliar suddenly becomes familiar? It’s the only time where you understand concepts. Then, you wake up and forget everything. You are back in your state of Wants and Needs, wishing you could go back to sleep. Does this sound like what you experience?”

Starlight rubbed her shoulder with her other forehoof and stared into the crackling fire. “Yeah, that’s about right. I wake up and I hate being awake. I want to do nothing but go back to sleep. What do you think I should do?”

Dr. Ellie Font puffed another ring into the air. “Drugs,” he said. “And lots of them. Heroin might be what you need to achieve that dream state you so desire. Some prescribed medications are also good. I personally dabble in alcohol to numb this concept that is ‘reality’ from my brain.”

“Wow,” Starlight said, smiling. “That’s really good advice. Thank you, Dr. Ellie Font!”

“It’s my pleasure,” he said. “I am always willing to help a friend, otherwise I would have no reason to earn my degree in friendology—which has gotten me no jobs despite the countless times I was told otherwise in calfolic school.”

Starlight nodded along in agreement. “I’m glad we could have this discussion. It’s given me a lot to think about.”

“Indeed,” Dr. Ellie Font replied, taking the pipe out of his mouth again. “Otherwise my degree in alottothinkaboutology would be rendered useless.”

The room filled with the cheery sound of a bell. Both Starlight and Dr. Ellie Font stared up at the cuckoo clock above the mantel. “Ah!” Dr. Ellie Font exclaimed. “It’s time for words of wisdom from our dear friend, Whimble The Wistful Whimsical Woodpecker.”

Two tiny saloon doors beneath the face of the clock opened up, and out popped Whimble The Wistful Whimsical Woodpecker on his iconic log.

“Greetings, everyone!” Whimble The Wistful Whimsical Woodpecker said majestically. “I am Whimble The Wistful Whimsical Woodpecker, and I bear words of wisdom. Ask your questions, and I’ll answer them.”

“Whimble The Wistful Whimsical Woodpecker,” Starlight uttered. “I think I’m afraid of something.”

Whimble The Wistful Whimsical Woodpecker tilted his head as he looked down at Starlight with his beady eyes. “What do you mean?”

“Well… I think I’m afraid of the passage of time. I feel like the older I get, the faster days go by. I feel like time travels, but not in the sense that I can control it. Days are quicker to become dark and the same annual holiday parties feel like they took place only weeks ago. I’m afraid of the concept of growing old. With each year my body will become slightly weaker, and it’s possible I’ll even lose function in some parts of it. I’m afraid of my friends growing apart from me and suddenly disappearing off the face of Equestria. I’m afraid that any moment another villain could come down from the sky and destroy the nation in a fiery reign. How… how do I cope with this? How do I find peace with my thoughts and find a way to live in the moment?”

“You could kill yourself!” Whimble The Wistful Whimsical Woodpecker chirped happily. “Scared of growing old and having your body parts gradually lose their function? Scared of losing your friends and family? Scared that the world could end at any moment? You can be at peace with your thoughts knowing that you are in control of your fate! All it takes is a little bit of planning and a day to end all days.”

“:)” said Starlight.

“I’m glad you can take refuge in this thought, Starlight! I, Whimble The Wistful Whimsical Woodpecker, have been happy to help. Although, there is one thing I have to say before I go, Starlight.”

Starlight tilted her head. “What is that?”

“Please don’t kill yourself before you can make it to Canterlot. You’re too essential to the cause. It would be devastating to lose you this early.”

“Canterlot?” Starlight muttered, then she heard something — like an inkwell dropping to the floor. She jolted her head toward the desk, but nothing was there. She turned back to Dr. Ellie Font, but he and the chair he was sitting in were gone. She turned to Whimble The Wistful Whimsical Woodpecker and he too was gone. So was the fireplace and the recliner that she was sitting in.

Starlight collapsed to the floor and burst into tears.

Chapter 8 - Midnight Showing

“Got it!” Gallus blurted. The projector whirred to life, casting light onto a pale white bed sheet spread out across the wall.

He flicked the switch and picked up one of the two reels sitting next to the projector on the table. He unraveled a strip of film and examined it. “How do I do this?”

“You gotta feed it through the little wheels on the projector’s side and let the empty reel take it while it’s spinning,” Sandbar said. Turning his head, he clenched the strap that held the saddlebags to his sides between his teeth and yanked it. He dropped the bags full of junk food beside the table.

Gallus did exactly as told, looping the film around the various wheels and wrapping it around the empty reel once. With a flick of a switch at its base, both reels began to spin. The white frame projecting onto the sheet turned black and grainy.

“Got it!” Gallus exclaimed. This time he flipped two switches to turn the machine completely off. “I think we’re ready.”

“Cool,” Sandbar said, adjusting a light green bean bag chair so that it was parallel with the brown one covered with a green blanket. “That means we’re just waiting for Smolder and Ocellus.”

At the mention of Ocellus, Gallus’s face fell. Sandbar was too busy making sure everything was in place to notice, which he was thankful for. He wasn’t in the mood to explain the needless drama that went on not too long ago. Was he ever in the mood for drama? Probably not.

He glanced over at Silverstream, who was too busy working on a puzzle with Yona on the other side of the room. Did she hear Ocellus’s name? If she did, then she was doing a pretty good job pretending to stay focused.

Whatever the case, if Ocellus did show up for movie night, he would acknowledge her presence with a simple, “Hey,” and silently let her know that what happened in the dorm room should stay in the dorm room. Knowing Ocellus, she would probably run into a tangent about how sorry she was and that she wasn’t having a very good week and yadda-yadda-yadda. Yeah, if that happened, he would let her have her little meltdown knowing it would make her feel better. She just found out that a friend had died, so she probably needed to vent to someone. Gallus just hoped that it wasn’t him.

“Alright,” he said. He pointed down at the pile of junk food. “Whatja get?”

Sandbar prodded at the pile with his hoof. “Some snack cakes, marshmallow-twisters, chips —”

“What kind?” Gallus interrupted.

“I only got potato chips.”

Gallus walked up to the pile and reached down, picking up one of the 1.5-ounce bags of Potato Crispies. “Eh, it will do.” He stared down at the bag for a moment. “You couldn’t have gotten the bigger bags?”

“They’re from the concession stand, alright?”

“And they’re oven-baked. Gross.” The bag crinkled as Gallus lowered to his haunches and tore it open. He reached a talon into it and took out a chip.

“Hey, oven-baked is good for you!”

Gallus shrugged, munching on the chip. “Meh,” he said with his mouth full. “Different process, same diabetes.”

Sandbar smirked. “Hey, I could have not brought any snacks.”

“That would have been whatever because I brought leftover pizza.”

Sandbar groaned. He sat down and leaned backward, landing into the light green beanbag chair with an audible huff. “Just be happy I brought something, okay!”

Gallus bit down on another chip. “Sure.”

“Ayy,” a scratchy voice called from the stairs. Gallus turned to it and saw Smolder’s head poking over the banister. “We’re here!”

Gallus lifted a brow. We’re? he thought. If someone followed Smolder then that meant —

Sure enough, Ocellus’s head was next to poke over the banister. Gallus stared. Perhaps he was going to have a conversation with Ocellus after all.

Silverstream looked up from her puzzle with a piece still in her talon. She froze. The tension in the air was clear. Someone had to break it before somecreature said something they would regret.

Gallus turned to Smolder, who was coming around the newel post and cleared his throat. “Yo, we’ve been waiting for you. We were about to cancel.” He smirked to make it clear to her that this was only a jab.

“And miss the free grub?” Smolder quipped. She chuckled, coming up to Gallus and swiping the bag of chips from his talon. “Heh, that’s all this night is good for.”

“Those are oven-baked.”

“Gross,” Smolder responded, flicking a morsel of peasants' food into her mouth. “I told you not to put Sandbar in charge of snacks.”

“Hey!” Sandbar shouted from his beanbag chair. “It’s my projector. I could just not have brought snacks at all anyway!”

Gallus gave Sandbar a pitiful glance and turned his attention back to Smolder. “I brought pizza.”

Smolder dropped the bag of chips onto the floor, the Potato Crispies spreading out against the crystalline surface. “That’s more like it. Where at?”

Gallus pointed toward a desk sitting against the back wall of the room. On it sat a large white box with SUGARCUBE CORNER printed on the cover.

“Heck yeah!” Smolder stepped over the bag and made her way toward the desk.

Gallus heard a sigh next to him and turned to Sandbar, who looked down at the crumpled-up bag on the floor glumly. “Should have put Silverstream in charge of snacks…” Sandbar mumbled.

Ocellus walked around the newel post and scanned the room, a bright smile plastered on her face. Gallus saw her face fill with even more delight as she spotted Yona and Silverstream. Oh no, he thought.

She walked over to the two of them. Silverstream remained fixated on the puzzle. “Heya!” the changeling chirped. Yona was the only one to raise her head, but she greeted Ocellus with a contorted look on her face.

“Yona not know how to complete puzzle.”

“How many pieces is it?”

“One hundred, but pieces not fit together. Not even with force. Friend Silverstream help Yona, but she not know how to do puzzle either.”

“I can help!”

Silverstream straightened up, flicking the piece she was holding onto the table. “Sorry,” she mumbled. “We’re about to start the movie.”

“That’s okay!” Ocellus continued excitedly. “We can do it after. Or if you’re too tired, we can wait until tomorrow.”

“Sounds good,” Yona replied with a smile. “Can you show Yona how to do the bigger puzzles after?”

“Of course! I have a few that we can do and afterward —”

Without making eye contact with either of them, Silverstream stood up and turned to Gallus. She walked by them without making a sound, passed Gallus, and sat down in the hot pink bean bag chair next to the projector.

Gallus blinked. He was sure that both Ocellus and Yona were looking at her oddly. Whatever the case, this drama was becoming torturous. “Okay,” he said, turning back to the projector. “It’s time to start.”

~•~

Where did they go?

Mr. Black saw the dragon and changeling enter the library and waited a minute before following. When he entered, however, the two were nowhere to be found. He searched up and down every aisle, even checking the office, but there were no signs of either of them. They disappeared so seamlessly.

He was almost impressed. Almost impressed. A long career had taught Mr. Black that surprises can — surprisingly — be found in the most obvious locations. Of course, there was no way they would get out through any windows when they were outside only minutes ago. That meant whatever passageway they used had to be inside.

Mr. Black walked around the library some more, mulling over ideas in his head. Then, he saw it. A rug with buffalo-Indian patterns that was slightly nonadjacent with the rest of the room. A subtle draft was coming from beneath it.

He pulled it aside, revealing a large golden grate. A ventilation shaft. It was possible that the changeling used her magic to place the rug back over the grate for precaution.

Mr. Black grasped onto one of the bars and pulled. Sure enough, the grate lifted into the air. The possibility that they left the room through here was a strong one.

~•~

Starlight jolted upward from her desk, ears twitching and a thin line of drool dripping down her chin. Something woke her up. Was she asleep? She didn’t remember falling asleep. Whatever the case, she heard a loud bang and it was enough to startle her from unconsciousness.

She stared at the door on the other side of the room, knowing that the sound came from the hallway. Should she go out there and check? No, Starlight thought. I don’t think I want to.

Starlight had already witnessed two deaths, and if the creature that had been haunting her life for the last forty-eight hours was out there, it would mean that she would witness a third. Unless, she would be the third.

No, that’s insane. Starlight is insane. Starlight caught her own thoughts and corrected them. I’m insane.

Another bang echoed in the hall, and Starlight jumped back slightly. She had to go check. If it was that thing then perhaps she could stop it before it killed another student.

Starlight closed the office door behind her and turned back to the hallway. It was so peaceful that one would almost doubt the idea of a dead student just a few meters from the exit door. No, no murder here. Try somewhere else.

All it took was one step. One step forward, and a door opened. Starlight watched as it slowly widened. She was almost too dumbstruck to investigate it. Then it slammed itself shut.

Starlight hopped back in terror. She was about to go back into the office and slam the door shut, perhaps barricade herself in so that whatever was out there couldn’t get her. Then, the door opened again, this time a little quicker. It hung wide open, almost like it was inviting her to come inside.

Part of her was tempted, while the sane part of herself wanted to go back into the office and pretend that all of this was a dream. Only, it felt real. If Starlight really wanted to be the great headmare she thought of herself as, she would go into that room and deal with whatever thing that was trying to get her attention. So, she did exactly that.

The door of her nightmares also happened to be the door that led into the headmare’s bedroom, which scared her a little. If whatever was in there had been there in a while, that meant there was a possibility that it was looming over her as she slept. The only reason Starlight was able to push this spot into the back of her mind was because (a) she was currently pursuing that monster and didn’t want any distractions and (b) if this phantasm really was in the bedroom with her it would probably have killed her already.

Starlight was now at the door. Her head poked through the doorway. The room was well-lit. Sitting in the center of her canopy bed was a box. A box that looked familiar yet strange. Starlight could have sworn she saw it before. It had gold bindings running along its edges and looked to be rusted. Surely, it was made up of some metallic material such as iron.

Starlight got a good scan around the room in case it was a trap. When she saw that no monsters would come out from any dark corner and maul her, seeing as the bright lighting ensured there were no dark corners, she stepped in. Immediately, she felt a draft that sent shivers down her spine. The light of the room dimmed for a moment but returned quickly.

Starlight hesitated. Was this really the right thing to do? She was already losing her mind. Perhaps this was some bizarre reality where her delusions had taken on a persona. Perhaps she was still asleep in the office and this was only a nightmare, one that felt so real yet so unnatural. Perhaps this would answer every single one of her questions. Whatever the case, Starlight wanted to know what was in the box.

She undid the golden clasp in the center and lifted the lid of the small chest. The inside was decorated with a special padding the color of red velvet. In the center of the padding was the imprint of where a specific object should have been.

Starlight sat on her haunches and lifted the chest into the air to get a better look at it beneath the lights. She was sure that she saw it somewhere. Maybe in some alternate timeline where it had an importance to her. In this one, however, all she could see was an empty box that looked vaguely familiar.

BANG!

Starlight dropped the box onto the floor and swiveled around, chest heaving in and out, her heart clambering to get out. The door was closed. She ran over and twisted the knob. Locked. She was locked inside. Her mind flashed to two nights ago, when she was being chased by that thing. An idea came to mind.

Starlight’s horn erupted into flares of turquoise. The aura surrounding her horn blinked before pattering out and dissipating. She tried again, but this time it only sparkled. Her horn was useless.

Starlight was trapped in the room.

~•~

Smolder unraveled the scarf from around her neck, dropping a bag full of greens that she was hiding. They were now some ways into the movie and everyone was too invested to notice her drop it. Everyone but Gallus, who was sitting between her and Silverstream.

“Yo,” he whispered, pointing down at the bag. “What’s that?”

Smolder picked the bag up and unzipped it. “It’s bud, son.”

“Let me guess, the school regulates it for you.”

“Nah, I jacked it from my brother’s stash when I went to visit him on his hatchday.”

“Wasn’t that six months ago?”

“Yeah, shit’s probably lost some of its potency by now, but it’s still usable.” Smolder reached into the bag and took out two small pieces of paper. She held them out toward Gallus. “Want one?”

“Sure.”

~•~

“Ayy, who wants to get high?”

Everyone looked toward Smolder’s direction.

Yona leaned into Sandbar’s ear and asked, “What does that mean?”

Sandbar swallowed a mouthful that came from the bundle of marshmallow-twisters he was guzzling on. “It means to achieve a state where you feel absolutely amazing.” He held the bundle of marshmallow-twisters out toward Yona. “Try it, you’ll know what I mean.”

His eyes felt itchy all of the sudden. I knew they would regret not trying my snacks, he thought.

~•~

Gallus took another huff and coughed. “I could go for some pizza,” he said.

He got up from his beanbag chair and nearly fell when a rush came over him. The rush receded, and Gallus went to the back of the room. He leaned back into his beanbag chair, holding the box of pizza over his lap. He lifted the lid and took out a slice.

“Damn, that’s good,” he said as his taste buds orgasmed. He reached over to Smolder and tapped her on the shoulder with the back of his talon. “Wanna try this pizza?”

Smolder huffed on her blunt. And kept huffing. And kept huffing. Finally, she let loose, a cloud of smoke billowing out of her mouth like a steam pipe. “What flavor is it?” she asked with the puffs of gray mist covering her face.

“Pizza flavor.”

“Nah, I’m good.”

He leaned toward Silverstream next and poked her shoulder. She didn’t look up. The hippogriff remained fixated on the movie.

“Hey,” he said. “Do you want to try this pizza?”

“I’m good,” she whispered. “Thanks, though.”

Gallus squinted. Silverstream was watching the movie, but it clearly wasn’t the first thing on her mind at that moment. Was she still upset about the fight with Ocellus? Gallus did notice that she was wearing her emotional support sweater, although she probably put that on when she found out that Lemongrass had died. He would have to talk to her after the movie so that they could work out something together.

Gallus mentally slapped himself. He wouldn’t have had that realization unless he was high, and he wouldn’t have the realization of the realization unless he was high. Shit, he thought. I’ve been a shit boyfriend so far.

It took Sandbar telling him that he fucked up by leaving Silverstream by herself for him to go check on her, and he made his lack of care for the death of a fellow student a little too clear. He couldn’t help it if he felt numb to reality sometimes. Growing up in Griffonstone was harsh, and it taught him a lot of important life lessons. The main one being: life is meaningless; live for yourself instead of others because only you can provide yourself fulfillment.

This philosophy changed when he started attending the School of Friendship. Yet, it still returned every once in a while, and he had to remind himself to stay loyal to his friends. This. Is. What. He. Lived. For. Not for himself, not for any so-called family member back in Griffonstone, but for his friends.

Gallus made a mental note, hoping that he would remember all of this when he wasn’t high. There were clearly some things that he needed to work on, but not now while everyone was trying to have a good time. He took another huff from his blunt.

Damn, this weed was some good shit.

~•~

Ocellus woke up to a scream.

She leaned forward in her bean bag chair and stared up at the screen. A black-and-white mare cocooned in web was screeching at the top of her lungs. The screen shifted, and a spider was approaching her. Cut back to the mare, this time her face was closer so that Ocellus could see the contours of her mouth widen in terror.

Ocellus knew this look. It was the look someone makes when they realize that they are about to die. It satisfied her.

The spider came into full frame, concealing the mare from view.

Crunch!

This dissatisfied her. She wanted to see blood. She wanted to see every single detail as the spider ate pieces of the mare one-by-one. She wanted to see the spider interject her with its poison and watch as the screen did a timelapse of her insides liquifying. Most importantly, she wanted to get that infernal stench out of her sinuses.

Ocellus rolled out of her bean bag chair, and the yak next to her did not seem to notice. Now was the perfect time. None of these peasants would notice her leave. If any of them asked, she would just say — oh how would this changeling put it? She would go out for a “tinkle” or whatever. That would get them to back off.

Or, she could go the other route. They were all alone, after all. Who would notice? They were far away from the school where no one could hear the screams. Why, it would probably take days to find them.

It’s best to remain incognito for now, she thought. One of them could escape, and it could provide an obstacle for my plan.

Ocellus began walking toward the stairs.

~•~

Silverstream’s attention was drawn away from the screen, following the movement at the corner of her eye. Ocellus was getting up and making her way toward the stairs.

~•~

Starlight lowered to her haunches, eyes fixated on the door.

~•~

Mr. Black arrived at a trisection in the cavern.

~•~

Silverstream got up from her bean bag chair and made sure to walk behind the projector like Sandbar said so that her silhouette didn’t block the movie. She had to speed up her pace a little, but she managed to catch Ocellus just as the changeling reached the newel post.

“Ocellus?”

Ocellus stopped. She turned around, her occeli wide and… depthless.

~•~

Starlight already lost track of time, sitting there and waiting for something to happen. Her eyes kept shifting to the decorative sundial clock hanging on her wall, but the numerals were difficult to make out from this position. When did she have time to hang it up?

That didn’t matter. What mattered was that she was still trapped in this room and that at any moment, Starlight just knew something would occur.

The lights dimmed, and the door slowly began to open.

~•~

“I know how you feel,” Silverstream said.

Ocellus gave her that same blank expression she was giving before.

“I’ve dealt with loss. I know what it’s like to lose a friend. I lost a lot when the Storm King took Mount Aris.” Silverstream swallowed. Reliving the memory was still hard to this day. “I lost a lot during the raid.”

Ocellus remained expressionless.

Silverstream scrunched her face up into one of confusion. “Ocellus, I’m trying to connect with you. I know it’s difficult, but trust me. It will be much better if we have a heart-to-heart about this.”

~•~

The door opened all the way to reveal… Starlight.

Starlight blinked. The doppelganger looked exactly like her, only in place of her eyes were two bulbous ocelli.

The Starlight doppelganger greeted her with a sneer, her form blinking in and out of existence.

~•~

“You’re right,” Ocellus choked. “I’m sorry I yelled at you earlier. I didn’t mean anything I said. I’m just really confused right now.”

Silverstream gave Ocellus a small smile and placed a talon on her shoulder. “Hey, it’s okay. We can work on this together.”

Ocellus embraced her, throwing her hooves around the hippogriff's neck. Silverstream was stunned at first, but then she raised her arms to wrap them around Ocellus’s carapace.

Do it now.

Opening her mouth as wide as possible, Ocellus shifted her left hoof so that she could push Silverstream’s face away and chomped down on her neck.

~•~

Mr. Black heard a scream. It came from one of the tunnels, but which one? It didn’t matter. If someone was in danger, then he had to act fast. He took off toward the center tunnel.

~•~

Silverstream screamed and fell back against the floor, cupping a talon over the bleeding wound on her neck. Ocellus stood before her, mouth full of feathers. She spat them out, trying as hard as she could to get the taste out of her mouth.

By now everyone was staring at her wide-eyed. Clearly, all of them were confused. That was fine. They didn’t have to be confused for much longer; not in a minute from now, when they would all be dead.

~•~

Gallus couldn’t register it, and not just because he was high. First he heard a scream come from the right side of the room, then everyone jolted up in terror. Second, there he saw Silverstream falling to the ground and cupping a talon over a spot on her neck that looked particularly bloody.

Ocellus stood beside her, Silverstream’s feathers in her mouth. The changeling spat them out, and before Gallus could even comprehend what just happened, Ocellus’s teeth suddenly became sharp.

She smiled back at all of them so that they were in full view. “Welcome, everyone, to your deaths.”

~•~

Starlight was petrified. Horrified. Electrified. Several emotions coursed through her body at once, and even more questions ran through her head. Yet all she could do was sit there and gawk at her doppleganger with dumbfounded shock.

“Hello, Starlight,” it said. For the brief moment that its mouth was open, Starlight could see the sharpness of its teeth.

“Who are you?” Starlight said. She dropped the chest to the floor and stood at a ready stance that would allow her to spring into action. Whether it would be chasing after the foul thing or charging into a magic battle, Starlight would be ready.

The doppelganger giggled and tilted its head to the side, emitting several loud popping sounds. The lights in the room dimmed and brightened, dimmed and brightened, dimmed and brightened.

“You’ve been very helpful,” said the doppleganger. It had the most peculiar voice Starlight had ever heard. It had that chocolatey sound that only a caring mother could give but carried none of its warmth. It was a culmination of everything wholesome on its way to obliteration.

“It’s thanks to you,” she continued, “that I know where I need to go next.”

The lights dimmed again, and the doppelganger vanished. Starlight jolted her head back in shock and was about to run into a hallway to investigate where the doppelganger went when she felt something breathing down her neck.

Starlight turned, and for the brief moment that the lights brightened again, she had the perfect view of its face. She jumped backwards, rear-end bumping into the bedside stand and knocking over a lamp. Starlight’s magic flared, and she fired a magical beam into the doppelganger's face.

Starlight was sure that she would hit it, but the lights dimmed once more and the beam phased through the being like it was made of pure entity. She heard a crash, the lights brightened, thousands of splinters from an exploded wardrobe went flying across the room, and the doppelganger was nowhere to be seen.

“Yoo-hoooo!”

Starlight shot her head back toward the doorway. The lights came on again. The doppelganger stood there, waving and giving her a mocking smile. It shifted its hoof a smidge and beckoned her to follow.

“Your students might be in danger. It would be a tragedy if they were to die all of the sudden.”

Something in Starlight snapped. Just looking at the thing’s face was enough to make her send magic signals to her horn. A brightness filled the room, and Starlight sent the most powerful beam she could muster the monster’s way.

She didn’t stop there, not even to acknowledge the gargantuan hole where the door to the teacher’s lounge should have been. Starlight ran into the hallway, horn charged and ready to fire another blast.

“My, you’re very pessimistic.”

Starlight swerved so that she was now facing the doppelganger, who must have been standing twenty feet away from her at the end of the corridor where it bisected.

“I didn’t say I would kill them!” it called. “Well, maybe a different I, although it would be a shame if you weren’t able to make it in time.”

“Shut up!” Starlight screamed. She began to run, run, run, as fast as she could, almost tripping at one point, but nothing was going to stop her from reaching the end of the corridor. When she was only seven feet away, the doppelganger ran down the corridor to her right.

I’m not going to let you escape. Starlight thought. This was it. She would finally capture the thing that had been murdering her students and be at peace with herself.

Starlight swerved hard at the corner, skidding and almost flopping down against the floor, but her adrenaline was too pumped for her to fall. She continued running, then stopped.

It was dark, and bunches of crystals sprouted from the walls. She was in a cavern. Starlight looked back and saw the same thing behind her. She was no longer in the corridor. She wasn’t even in the School of Friendship anymore.

~•~

The room grew silent. The only sound to be heard came from the vile music of the film as a giant spider trampled over an obviously fake set of Canterlot. On the other side of the room, Ocellus provided everyone in the room a toothy grin that showcased the sharpness of her teeth.

Silverstream squirmed on the ground, clutching a talon to the bleeding spot on her neck. It wasn’t bleeding profusely, so clearly she didn’t bite into an artery. That was okay. Ocellus would finish her off soon enough.

“So,” Ocellus croaked. Her voice sounded both dry and old. “Who wants to die first?”

Everyone was too shocked and bewildered to say anything. Was this really Ocellus they were looking at, or was it some bizarre, twisted up version spat out into the world by Cerberus? Gallus was the first to take a stand.

He padded up to Ocellus, passing Silverstream, who by now had stopped squirming on the floor and was now staring at the changeling in wide-eyed shock.

“Ocellus,” Gallus said. He jabbed a claw into her chest. “What’s going on here? Why did you attack Silverstream?

Ocellus’s head slowly twisted. Gallus retracted his claw, stepping back and staring at her with widened eyes. With the movement of her neck came a loud popping sound. Her ocelli locked on him.

“Your friend is gone,” Ocellus said. No, it was no longer Ocellus. At least, not in the eyes of her friends. It was now an it. A thing. A creature without specificity. Ocellus would never act this way. She would never attack Silverstream, and she definitely wouldn't make threats to kill all of them.

Yona cast a worried glance toward all of her friends. “What’s wrong with friend Ocellus?”

“Ocellus, Ocellus, Ocellus…” the thing mocked. “I have no time for the likes of you to figure out what’s going on. Shut up and die.”

It leaped toward the petrified Silverstream, mouth extended, teeth ready to clamp down on her neck once again to finish her off. Then the world turned and the changeling was now falling sideways. Gallus had tackled her midleap and was now pinning her to the ground.

“Stop this!” Gallus screamed in her face.

It laughed, throwing spittle onto his beak. “You look so stupid when you scream. Come to think of it, you all look stupid when you are scared. Perhaps it’s the adrenaline kicking in when you realize that you're about to die.” It extended its tongue out and licked its lips serendipitously. “I can taste it. It’s delicious. It’s flavorful with so many emotions. You’re all scared and confused and worried for your friend Ocellus. However, these are just spices.”

It relaxed its body against the floor, sneering up at Gallus. “The real entrée is the brain.”

“Shut up!” Gallus snapped. He reached his right talon up into the air and brought it down toward Ocellus’s face. It was clearly expecting this.

It caught his talon in its magic, and before Gallus could even think about pulling it back, it bit down on his smallest claw.

He screamed, trying to pull his talon away from its mouth. Now everyone was on him, pulling Gallus away from the demented thing on the floor.

Smolder wrapped her claws around its head and chin, prying its mouth open. Gallus fell back, cradling his finger, the others catching him.

“The fuck is wrong with you?” Smolder screamed in Ocellus’s face.

It headbutted her in the eye, its horn barely missing the cornea. Smolder pedaled back, holding a claw over the left side of her face.

A bright blue light filled the room.

~•~

Mr. Black arrived at a dead end. Rather than stop, he immediately swerved around and ran the other direction.

~•~

The cave was never-ending. Starlight kept running, and running, and running, but it never stopped. Her adrenaline was pumping so fast that the crystals along the cave’s walls became a blur. She was going to catch this killer. She was going to stop them.

~•~

The projector whirred, sputtering its demented light in Ocellus’s direction. If it even was Ocellus at this point. Smolder sat up from the floor staring at the monster from across the room. The light of the projector flickered, revealing the creature in all of its glorious and hideous details in small intervals. Although, the most she could make out was its silhouette.

It raised one of its many spider-like appendages out, bringing it down where Silverstream was laying. The hippogriff rolled out of the way just in time, the crystalline floor exploding into a shrapnel of tiny crystal chips.

She had to do something. Fast. If not, then her friends would die. There was no second-guessing. Not here. Not now.

Smolder took to the air, gliding across the room. It was crawling along the floor toward Yona, who was huddled beneath the tiny table the projector was sitting on, shaking uncontrollably. It brought one of its appendages up, flipping the table over. Smolder didn’t think she ever heard Yona scream like that.

She slammed into its side. Just like Smolder expected, it barely budged. But the creature did shift in her direction. Now it was her responsibility. It leaped after her.

~•~

Starlight finally exited the cave. Snow fell lightly from the sky. The area was calm and serene. Almost too serene for Starlight’s liking, at least for now.

She got a good look around her, and recognition dawned on her face. She was at the Castle of the Two Sisters. Why did it bring her here?

Starlight’s ears twitched. She heard something — something like a screech. She looked up at the Treehouse of Friendship. An orange light emitted from the window, glowing bright like fire.

~•~

A loud screech grated Silverstream’s ears. Tears were dripping from her eyes, and her neck stung bad. She huddled up in the corner of the room, away from the commotion. Or, as far away from the commotion that she could get.

Was that thing really Ocellus? She couldn’t believe it, even if it bit her on the neck. She didn’t want to believe it. There was no way that thing was really her.

An orange light filled the room, and flames devoured the creature. Smolder swooped up, halting midair to look down at the creature. She waited for the smoke to clear. Before it did, however, something large and blue shot out of the cloud.

Smolder didn’t even have time to react before it grabbed her by the tail and brought her down against the floor face first. Silverstream screamed. She wanted to run over to the dragon and help her, but there was an even larger dragon lingering over her.

Its scales were cyan, its giant form almost touching the ceiling. It reached a claw out, which was definitely much bigger than Silverstream and picked Smolder up.

Silverstream thought she was about to witness the end of her friend’s life where the creature would bring her head to its mouth and bite down on it as if it were merely chewing on a lollipop, but Yona came barreling across the room. The yak jumped, ramming into the humongous dragon’s side headfirst.

It roared, dropping the unconscious Smolder onto the floor and swiping a backhand at Yona, who got smacked aside as if made of paper-mâché.

~•~

Sandbar rolled aside, narrowly avoiding the yak hurdling past him. Yona landed with a resounding crash, smashing the table that she was once hiding under into bits and pieces. Sandbar worried for a moment if the thrashing hurt her, but the yak rolled over, shaking the wooden fragment from her coat as if not hurt at all.

Sandbar gawked. He looked at Yona, he looked at the creature, and he looked at Smolder’s crumpled up form laying on the floor. He smelled something burning.

The bedsheet they used to display the movie against was burning from Smolder’s blast. Sandbar had an idea. Since the projector was a heirloom from grandfather, and the film reels were about the same age, would that mean —-

Ocellus — if it even was Ocellus anymore — let out a blood-curdling screech. Sandbar threw his hooves over his ears before they started to bleed. A bright glow filled the room again, and he knew he had to act fast.

~•~

This time it took the form of a griffon with cyan feathers. It lunged swiftly toward whoever was closest — which happened to be Gallus.

Gallus jumped back, using his wings to support him through the air, but he wasn’t quick enough. Its claws raked across his stomach, leaving four long gashes. He stumbled on his back legs, clutching his midsection with both talons.

The creature didn’t give him time to register his pain. It tackled him to the ground, pinning him down. Wrapping its right talon around his neck, it sneered down at him. “My,” it said. “How the tables have turned.”

Its claws felt like a vice around his neck. The more he squirmed, the tightener its grip became. It was like whatever he was fighting didn’t even take on the proper properties of a griffon. It was stronger, more agile, more —

Something hit the back of the creature’s head, a loud clanging sound banging against the floor, and it released Gallus from its deathly grip. He breathed in a huge gulp of air.

“Are you stupid or something?” it said.

“Uhh,” Gallus heard Sandbar say. He sat up and saw the empty reel laying on the floor next to the pseudo-griffon’s feet. Gallus realized that Sandbar must have thrown it to get her attention.

“I’ve done nothing but dominate you scoundrels for the last few minutes, and that is the best attack you can muster?” It took a step forward. “Your little group has done nothing but annoy me so far. None of you should even be alive. It makes me sick. Absolutely sick that I have to waste my greatness on the likes of you.”

Whoever this is, Gallus thought. They kind of have an ego.

Then he saw it.

Gallus stood up, not even caring if the thing in the room noticed him. Sandbar was standing next to the burning bed sheet on the wall, which by now was half depleted. Smoke was filling the room fast. He could also see that Sandbar was clutching something to his chest.

“Don’t come over here!” Sandbar blurted. “Or I’ll… or I’ll…”

Gallus remembered something Sandbar told him earlier. The pony had said very matter-of-factly that the tape inside of the film reel was made with celluloid, which was combustible. Throwing the burning bed sheet over the creature was one thing, but tossing the film reel its way immediately after?

Gallus didn’t know what to think about that plan. On one talon, this thing was trying to kill everyone. On the other, it really might be Ocellus. He didn’t know. If it was her, then he couldn’t let Sandbar do what he was about to do.

The thing took another step toward the pony. Sandbar jolted further back into the corner with wide-eye terror. Gallus’s heart was thumping in his chest. Could he do it? No, nor could Sandbar kill a close friend. Could Gallus jump the thing’s back in time before the pony made a move he would regret? He was about to find out.

“Damn, looks like I missed the midnight screening.”

Or maybe not.

Everyone including the creature turned to look at the new person in the room. Standing by the newel post was the very hippogriff detective that confronted Gallus and Silverstream at Sugarcube Corner. Gallus was dumbstruck. Did he tail them here?

He didn’t have time for another thought, because in that instance the creature let out a blood curdling scream. It moved so fast that Gallus could feel the air as it swiped passed him, its wingtip brushing against his chest. Gallus stepped back, heart dropping. If that thing really wanted to, it could turn its attention away from the new guy in the room and go back to choking him out. Gallus was admittedly a little thankful that it had its different target set — although not so thankful because this one barely had time to register the attack.

The creature hopped into the air, gliding across the room with its claws out. This was it. Gallus was about to watch someone get mauled to death, and there was nothing he could do about it. The thing was too strong to be taken out. Yes, they could evade it, but eventually everyone in the room would get tired and it would seize its opportunity.

In the very instance that it reached the detective, the hippogriff lowered to his stomach and reached his right talon out, latching onto a fistful of feathers on the false-griffon’s chest. With a quick swivel of his body so that he was facing the other direction, he brought his foreleg down in a long arc so that the creature hit the floor belly-up with a resounding thud.

“Well,” the hippogriff said, staring down into the eyes of the demented thing, both of his foretalons pinning its head. It looked back up at him with pure hatred. “My mother always said that I’d have girls falling into my arms.”

“Die!” It brought both of its talons up, wrapping them around the hippogriff's face. Gallus winced, expecting it to rake its claws down his cheeks.

The hippogriff reached and jabbed a single claw into its neck. It stopped, its talons still wrapped around his face.

“Dieee…” the thing croaked.

Its talons slid off the hippogriff’s face, hovering in the air above its now limp body. He stepped back, giving the thing room.

Gallus blinked. What did he do to it? What did he do to Ocellus?

The thing rolled over onto its stomach lazily, bringing its head up. It bobbed side-to-side uncontrollably, a thin line of drool dripping down the side of its beak. “What did you…” it said. Its legs wobbled as it struggled to stand up fully. It was only able to get its frame about a foot off the ground.

“I’ll… I’ll kill you!” It lurched forward.

The hippogriff stepped aside, the thing stumbling and falling back onto the ground.

“Elephant tranquilizer,” the hippogriff said. He held up his right talon, smirking and extending a single claw. “Never know when it will be useful.”

The thing rolled onto its side. A light filled the room, the frame of the griffon reverting back to changeling shape. When the light cleared, Gallus was delighted to see Ocellus’s regular form. He had almost forgotten that that thing was her.

Ocellus reached a hoof up, brushing it against the hippogriff’s chest. He did not even flinch at her touch. After holding it there for a moment, her hoof drooped down slowly, dropping to the ground.

Everything fell into silence.

~•~

Starlight didn’t know what to think. When she rounded the newel post at the top of the stairs and saw the discord of the room, her mind went blank for a moment. She had expected a million things. She did not expect to see six of her students sprawled across the room with traumatized looks on their faces.

Then, her mind cleared, and Starlight realized how thick the air looked. Her eyes shot toward the corner of the room where a bed sheet — now three quarters depleted — was burning against the wall.

Without hesitation, her horn flared and a bright turquoise beam shot across the room, hitting the sheet. The flames dissipated with a loud ssssssssss, tendrils of black smoke the only remnant. The bed sheet emitted a subtle frost from its snowy surface.

Starlight turned her attention away from it to examine the room. When she had run up the stairs, her eyes met with Silverstream’s, who was cupping a talon over her neck. Sandbar stood in the corner opposite of the room next to the bedsheet, clutching a film reel to his chest and trembling, looking as if he had just witnessed the most traumatizing thing that he will ever see.

Smolder was laying down on the floor. Starlight worried for a moment that the worst had happened, but then she could make out the subtle movement of her form extending up and down as the dragon breathed. Starlight let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding, her heart fluttering.

Standing in the middle of the room, staring back at her, was Gallus. A cherry red liquid was dripping from his stomach, onto the floor.

None of this was what shocked Starlight the most. Standing directly in front of her, towering over an unconscious Ocellus, was Mr. Black.

Various emotions flared at once. First she was terrified for everyone in the room, then she was relieved, then she was angry, and now… well, now she didn’t know what to feel. Starlight’s mind was blank. The killer led her here on purpose, but for what reason? Confusion. That was right. That was what she felt. Nothing but confusion.

~•~

Darkness. Nothing but darkness, first and foremost. Darkness was all Ocellus could see. Even after igniting her horn so that her magic could be concentrated into a small ball, there was nothing for the light to reflect off of. She was, quite simply, in a purgatory state. Waiting for something to happen.

Ocellus tried screaming, but couldn’t hear herself. She could feel her throat vibrating violently and a loud buzz filling her ears, but she couldn’t make out the sound of her own voice. She tried lifting her hoof and taking a step forward. She could feel her leg moving, but with it came a numbness. It was like her leg wasn’t there but could still be felt.

She was simultaneously existent and non-existent. She was real and make-believe. It was like being in a coma but aware. She might as well be dead. All that remained of her was the memory of herself, a distant glimpse into the past. She might as well not have existed at all.

Ocellus’s vision became engulfed by a bright green light. It dissipated, resettling into that familiar darkness. Only, this time, she was somewhere. A cave. She was in a cave. A green resin emitting a soft glow lined the walls of the cave, drooping from the ceilings so that they took the form of stalactites.

Ocellus looked down and was relieved to see her own hooves. She lifted one, thankful that the strange numb feeling was gone.

She set her hoof back on the ground and looked ahead. Ahead, the cave twisted to the right. Ocellus walked down the path and turned the corner. The area ahead was covered in darkness.

Ocellus continued to move forward. The green resin lined among the cave walls glowed brightly as she passed it. As she walked, she noticed how they diverged from the walls, onto the floors, forming a path that became narrower and narrower the further she went.

Eventually, a thin line of the glowing resin stretching across the ground in front of her indicated that it was the end of the path. Ocellus stopped, unsure of what to do. Was she supposed to remain idle or keep moving ahead?

She didn’t have to wonder much longer. The cave filled with light from all around. It ran along the walls, revealing a wide room. It ran along the ceiling, furcating from each corner toward the center. The light traveled downward, into a huge glob of the resin that hung from the ceiling and formed a giant ball at its end.

As soon as the glow reached its base, the entire room burst with green light. Ocellus had to shield her occeli with a hoof to protect herself from the brightness. When the bright glow died down, she realized that the rest of the room was now visible.

Ocellus uncovered her eyes, setting her hoof on the ground. She froze. In front of her was a crystalized version of the resin taking on the form of a tall dais. On top of that dais, sneering down at her was — was —

No. It couldn’t be. That was impossible. Ocellus couldn’t move, not while she was in her presence. She wanted to run, hide, scream, but she could do none of those. All she could do was stare up at the tyrant and make sure the changeling queen she was staring at was the same changeling that tortured her existence for so long.

It was the same ebony carapace, the same legs spotted with holes all across; it even had the same twisted-up horn and blue silky hair with the crown sitting on top. Yes, it was her. It was indeed Chry—

“Greetings, Ocellus,” said the tyrant. It opened its mouth, giving her a twisted grin filled with sharp teeth. “I am Queen Tiran.”

Author's Notes:

End of Act 1.

Chapter 9 - No More Sleep

Darkness surrounded her. Darkness, and nothing but.

It was not the type of darkness when one is on the preface of sleep, but the kind that can only be attributed to birth. That shroud of deep void that encompasses the vision, with only consciousness accompanying the vegetable of a body. Chrysalis no longer knew how conscious she was. For her, that darkness never faded. She didn’t know if she was alive; not in this prison of stone.

I feel pain.

Yes, and also hunger.

I feel tired.

Yes, and cannot sleep.

I feel everything.

The anger. The desire to right what was wrong. The urge to rip the cords out of Her neck and listen joyfully at Her gurgled screams of agony like a symphony. It would have been her first time hearing any kind of music. The more she thought, the more she could hear it. The more she could see it. The more she could taste the blood as it splatters across her face and drizzles down to her lips.

She tried running her tongue around her mouth but barely felt them. The air stung, seeping into the cracks that ran through its palette. She had to get out of here. She had to —

“Wake up!” someone shouted, banging on the prison bars. The rattling bounced off the cell walls.

Chrysalis’s head shot up, her chest thumping with the shrill of a drumbeat. A drone clad in ebony armor stared back at her. Edifice. He was giving her a stern look. Did he know what she was thinking? Did he know what she wanted to do to their queen? She was in this cell for going against Her orders, after all. Could he make the easy assumption that she would only further defy their majesty?

“Queen Tiran hasss granted early release,” he hissed quietly. “You ssshould thank Her.”

That meant she had to offer the queen her rations for the next week. So essentially, she was still being punished. Her already yearning stomach would see another seven days without fulfillment. Damn that bitch.

The cell filled with an ambient emerald glow, and that sound — Oh, that sweet sound! — of keys rattling reverberated in her ears. The door screeched open and Chrysalis stood up.

She hadn’t realized that she was laying down all day (Days? Or was it hours?). She had been in the cell for nearly a month, given only a hunk of dried meat once a week. Nonetheless, her loss of energy combined with her legs having fallen asleep made it difficult to walk. Or, more like a hobble.

Chrysalis would laugh if it wasn’t her. From Edifice’s perspective, she probably looked stupid. She dared not raise her head, lest her vision be cursed with the grin on his face.

She stepped out of the cell and, just like that, weakness took over. Tiny white spots clouded her sight as her fetlocks wobbled to keep her upright. Pins and needles caused an annoying sensation to travel up her legs. Chrysalis clenched her ocelli shut, hoping it would pass over. Something brushed up against her shoulder.

“Please, Chrysalis,” Edifice said. There was a genuine sense of concern in his voice. “You’re weak. I’ll share some of my rations with you.”

“Th-thank you,” Chrysalis responded. She was tempted to lay there and wait for the weak feeling to pass away. Maybe Edifice would be kind enough to fetch her some food? However, the coppery taste in her mouth screamed for immediate attention.

“Water,” she gasped.

Chrysalis heard the rustling of armor from beside her, and a second later Edifice dangled a thick bota pouch by its strap in front of her face. She swiped it out of the air, falling to her side and rolling onto her back. Focusing whatever magic that she could muster, she used every ounce of energy to pop off the cork, throw it aside, and pour the cold liquid down her throat.

Never did water taste so delicious.

Much of it missed her mouth, but Chrysalis didn’t care. She guzzled it all down. She even squeezed the pouch so that the water would come out faster. She was sure that Edifice would be upset that she was drinking up all of his water ration, but he was understanding. He wasn’t like the other changelings, who were blind to their own perception of reality. He knew she needed it more.

Chrysalis was disappointed when it ran out. She knew the water couldn’t run forever, but some desperate part of her mind wished that the very pouch in her hooves could produce a never-ending supply. She felt better, aside from a scratchy feeling in her throat, and the dizziness was gone.

She felt along the bota’s soft hide with her hoof as she laid there and cradled it to her chest. Then, a realization kicked in: this wasn’t Edifice’s bota. His was leather.

Chrysalis raised it in the air and tried to examine it the best that she could through the dim light of the cavern. It was coated with white fur and had a peculiar marking at its base. A shepherd's crook leaning against a sleeping sheep. A cutie mark.

Her ocelli widened. “You’re a hunter now!?”

“Apodemi didn’t sssurvive the last hunt, ssso Her Majesty ordered me to join the crew.” A sort of pride mixed with hesitance filled his voice, and a subtle but careful smile spread across his face. He pointed at the bota. “That’sss my first kill.”

Now Chrysalis didn’t have any reason to feel bad for wasting his water ration. Hunters were granted unlimited rations so long as they fulfilled a weekly quota. That meant Edifice could swipe her some extra food and water each week. Hunters weren’t allowed to share their rations with another drone, but the Queen didn’t have to know that. No other drone had to do that. Edifice already shared this water with Chrysalis, and she knew the perfect hiding place away from the nest.

Edifice was kind. Edifice would listen to her. Edifice did everything she told him to do. This would make life in the hive a bit easier for her. Not by much, but at least she wouldn’t go hungry.

Her stomach rumbled, and Chrysalis looked over at Edifice pleadingly. He rubbed his fetlock shyly.

“You can have sssome of my meat ration,” he hissed. “But Her Majesty has demanded your presence immediately.”

Chrysalis jerked up and threw the bota against Edifice’s chest plate as hard as she could — which was a pathetic display considering her weakened state. Edifice didn’t flinch.

“Screw that bitch. If she thinks I will kneel down before her and kiss the ground she walks on, then she has another thing coming for her. I will not suck up to her. I will not succumb to her madness. She’s a tyrant — tyrant!”

Edifice lurched forward, jumping on top of her and throwing his hoof over her mouth. Chrysalis struggled beneath him, trying to pull her head away so she could continue with her tirade, but he pinned her to the ground, and she couldn’t move.

“Chrysalisss, please, you can’t speak ill of Her Majesty! That’sss what got you locked up in the first place. Imagine what Her Majesty will do when she findsss out that you still speak out in contempt!”

For a moment, Chrysalis considered biting down on Edifice’s hoof. Then, she thought about it. He was right. The queen was merciful to not kill her on the spot. If anything, it was merciful that she got any food whatsoever during her stay in the concrete prison. The queen had done more than spare her, and Chrysalis knew why: she was trying to right her. She was ensuring that there would be no more contemptuous words spoken about her.

Side with me, and I take care of you. Go against me, and I will show you what ‘a fate worse than death’ really means.

Chrysalis relaxed her body. Fine. She would play along. For now.

Edifice removed his hoof from her mouth. “Her Majesty has asked that you not be escorted. She expectsss you immediately.”

A test of faith, Chrysalis thought. If I approach her by myself and waste no time in doing so, then I must not have something to hide. She had to hold back a smirk. She had a lot of things to hide. The queen thinks I’m just another mindless drone. Well, she will find out in due time that that’s not the case.

And she would find out at the same moment that a knife plunges into her throat.

~•~

“Meet me at my nest when Her Majesty isss done with you. I will feed you.”

They had climbed up a considerably long flight of stairs. It was less than two stories high, but in Chrysalis’s weakened state it felt like more. What could have taken five minutes took ten, and any offers from Edifice to help were turned down, even when dark spots dotted her vision. She liked the difficulty. After all, if she couldn’t climb a simple flight of stairs, then how would she win against the queen? This was a war of the minds, and Chrysalis had to prove that hers was the strongest of all.

“Thank you, Edifice,” she said.

Then, she stood there. The two remained silent. Chrysalis stared at the door on the other side of the long corridor. Waiting behind them would be her. The queen. The bane of her sad, pathetic existence. The tyrant.

The feeling wasn’t present when she was in her prison cell, but it was certainly present here and now, in this corridor, where Chrysalis was only twenty feet away from the queen’s throne room. It was that feeling that came with a pulsating heart, weak legs, and an invisible anchor tethered to her waist. The realization hit: Chrysalis had to face Her. The person who had thrown her in the cell and could easily toss her back in.

Don’t show fear, Chrysalis thought. Not in front of Edifice. You can in front of the Royal Bitch — She expects you to. But not in front of Edifice, no…

She took a single step forward, followed by a second one. Two became three, then four, five, six, seven. Soon Chrysalis found a rhythm. She practically floated down the hall, her mind at an in-between state of disbelief at what was about to transpire and placebo determination. Still, her legs carried her, and soon she was already standing before the tall doors.

She gulped. The only way out of this was to get through it. Chrysalis’s mind was set. Get it over with now, and relish in how she would beat the queen later. She pushed the door open.

The throne room was easily the most decorative part of the castle, in that it was the only part of the castle with decorations of any kind. Shards of green crystal emitting a loud glow lined the walls from sconces, filling the room with almost-perfect light. There were no windows — another thing that the rest of the castle didn’t have. There were, however, several paintings. None of which depicted the changeling empire and all of its glory. They were all stolen.

Chrysalis recognized one of them. It was one she tried to claim during a raid on a home east of the Badlands. It depicted a camel ascending a flight of stairs that led into the mouth of a skull. She found this piece captivating. Chrysalis didn’t quite understand art and the intricacies of symbolism, but—how the ponies put it—it spoke to her.

Unfortunately, it being “art,” it was deemed contraband, and the piece was confiscated the moment she got back to the castle. Since that day, the painting had been perfectly etched into her memory. Staring at it now, she was surprised by how well she remembered all of the little details such as the pot of hemlock in the corner, or the exact curvature of the artist’s signature. It should have been hers, and now it’s the queen’s.

Where the fuck is She? Chrysalis thought. The queen demanded she arrive to the throne room, but She wasn’t even here. The throne was empty. There was no one to greet her. Was this part of the test?

A door slammed. Chrysalis swiveled around to see the silhouette of a tall figure emerging from the dark. It stopped, its face barely visible beneath the lights of the room and its emerald irises glowing vibrantly.

The queen spoke, “I hope you learned from your insolence.”

Chrysalis froze. A million possibilities ran through her mind when she was in that prison cell of what she would do when she confronted the queen again, but none of that mattered anymore. Here Chrysalis was, facing Her. What else was there to do?

She bowed. “Yes, Your Majesty. I was a fool.”

The sound of the queen’s regal hooves grated against her ears as She walked up to her. “So, I shan’t expect it to happen again?”

“Yes, Your majesty.”

The clanking stopped. “Good. Now I will ask: what made you think it was a good idea?”

“They were innocent, my…” Chrysalis felt the urge to vomit come over her before she had a chance to say the word. “My queen.”

“Innocence doesn’t feed. Livestock does. That’s all they are. Nothing more, nothing else.”

Chrysalis perked up. “But Your Majesty! We don’t —”

“Silence!” Queen Tiran bit, baring her sharp teeth at the drone. Chrysalis immediately shut up and went back to bowing. “You dare talk back against your queen after being thrown in the dungeon for that exact crime? Have you no shame?”

“I’m sorry Your Majesty. It’s just that… I wanted to make a suggestion. For the betterment of the tribe.”

Queen Tiran grew silent. She tilted her head, quirking a brow. “‘For the betterment of the tribe?’ Do tell, what is this suggestion?”

“We don’t need to eat meat. Out of all the races in Equestria, we are by far the most superior because we don’t need actual food or nourishment to survive. All we need are feelings or… or the life force of plants. If we stop kidnapping ponies and change our habits now, we may be able to end this war.”

“Oh?” Queen Tiran fell quiet once again, looking as if she were mulling the idea over in her head. Then she laughed. She laughed, she laughed, and oh that laugh corkscrewed itself into Chrysalis’s ears.

“Change our habits? I say we’re already on the right track. Think about it, drone. Yes, we don’t need actual nourishment to survive and can live off the feelings of others. But feelings are just a small part of it. It’s what powers our magic and gives us the energy to perform, but the brain? Oh, the brain carries so much more. We must eat because it’s what makes our army more superior than our enemy’s. What else is there to say except that I hope we win this war so that swine of a princess gets what’s coming to her.”

Chrysalis perked back up. “Queen, if I may—”

Pain. Pain coursed through her body. In her head it was worse, like nails dragging across glass. She brought her hooves up to her ears, but it persisted. The noise was inside of her head, playing its demented song of agony.

“If I may, if I may, if I may…” Queen Tiran mocked her. “Perhaps it was wrong of me to imprison you because it has only taught you to fear my tactics. Or, perhaps it was wrong of me to let you live?”

Chrysalis writhed on the floor. What felt like sharp sticks poking into her sides suddenly became sharper. It felt as if her limbs were being torn away from their joints.

She wanted to scream. She wanted to scream loud so that Edifice could hear it. She wasn’t sure what he would do or if he would even save her, but anything to to the pain would be enough. Instead, all that came out was a long croak.

“You are a drone. A drone meant to serve. A drone, and nothing else. As a drone, you will listen to your queen. As a drone, you will perform the tasks your queen has set. As a drone, you will not speak ill of Her. This is how it will be until the day that you die. Is that understood?”

Chrysalis nodded quickly and kept nodding as the pain lingered. Finally, it was gone. For the most part. She had a splitting headache, but the rest of her body felt fine. She rested her body on the floor, breathing heavily.

“Stand at attention.”

She didn’t hesitate. The moment Chrysalis lifted her head a massive rush washed over her. Still, she picked herself up. It was slow, it was excruciating, but she refused to show weakness. The drone stood straight, feeling as if she could kneel over and pass out in an instant.

“What is your duty?”

“To serve the queen.”

“What is your job?”

“To be a soldier.”

“What does that job entail?”

“To serve the queen and the tasks She sets out before me.”

“What is your job as a citizen of the hive?”

“To serve the queen.”

“Good. You are dismissed.”

Chrysalis wanted to vomit. Not just because of the nauseous feeling in her stomach, but because the words took immense effort to force out. That, and it made Chrysalis feel defeated. The queen soiled her soul, stripping it of any ounce of pride it had left.

She was making her way toward the door when something crossed her mind. If she left the room now without saying anything, then this defeat would be permanent. Chrysalis refused to accept that, not when she’s already built up so much resentment for Her. Oh, how she yearned to see Her drown in a pool of her own blood…

No. She had to say something, but it couldn’t just be anything. It had to be calculative. It had to give her more hope for the future… And, just like that, she knew what she had to say.

Chrysalis turned away from the door and back to the queen. “Your Highness, permission to make an inquiry?”

Queen Tiran stopped midstep upon the dais leading to her throne and craned Her head back toward the drone. “Hurry, and don’t make it stupid.”

“I’d like to become a hunter. I think it would redeem me. And I would be a good asset to have.”

Queen Tiran sat on her throne, her green irises vibrant beneath the darkness of the room. She smiled, Her sharp teeth gleaming. “I admire the audacity in your request. Very well, consider this a chance to prove your worth. But know this…” Her smile faded, blending in with the dark room. All that was visible were her eyes. “Don’t think I am willing to forget your crimes that easily. As a huntress, you will be given the hardest of tasks. Starting with this one: every beginning hunter must kill at least one to prove their worth.” The queen’s smile returned. “I want you to kill six. Six, no more and no less.”

Chrysalis thought about it. Would she be able to kill six ponies like that? She had no problem with killing. Fuck, she did it all the time during raids. But being a huntress meant she had to be incognito the entire time. Not just that, but killing six ponies meant there would be more bodies to transport to the hive. That meant she would have to avoid being seen while her arms were full.

Chrysalis smiled. This would be a chance to get on her good side. In fact, Chrysalis was up for the task. Not only would she kill six ponies, but she would do it within a timely manner. A manner so timely that even the queen herself would be impressed. It didn’t matter what task would be set before her, because she will put in twice the effort that was expected of her. Then, she would get on the queen’s good side. Then, she would become an important asset to the queen. Then… one day She will wake up with her throat sliced open.

“Consider it done,” Chrysalis said.

If nothing will come together, then I will force something together.

~•~

The trees outside rustled from the sheer force of the wind, tapping their branches against the windows. The wind howled like a roaring beast as the blizzard outside blew in every direction. Tiny flakes of snow spilled onto the floor of the School of Friendship.

Starlight didn’t know how long she was staring at the hole. All she knew was that she created it. It was the last thing on her mind, really. What she really had her mind set on was the killer. She had it in her sight. It was standing right there. Starlight shot a beam that should have been a fatal blow and instead obliterated the entire wall.

I had it, and now it’s gone, Starlight thought.

“Starlight, friend, you’re going to catch a fever standing there.”

Starlight turned her head to see Trixie, a steaming mug of hot cocoa hovering in front of her.

Starlight looked back to the hole. “I’ll be fine,” she said. “I just need to clear my head.”

Why wouldn’t she need to? Her students almost died, and she could have prevented most of the mayhem. Instead, she was too busy wandering around aimlessly chasing a ghost.

“You have no reason to blame yourself,” Trixie said. “Some things are out of our control.”

Steam wafted into Starlights faces the mug of hot cocoa floated beneath her chin. “Besides,” Trixie continued. “Nocreature died.”

Starlight stared down into the little concoction of chocolate, marshmallow, and cinnamon, and enveloped the mug with her own magic. “There’s the thing,” she said, before taking a sip. “I should be the one in control. I’m the headmare of this school. It is my responsibility to ensure the safety of every student.”

If Starlight had shown up five minutes earlier, then she could have prevented far more than the worst from happening. She could still picture herself standing in that room with a stunned group of students. Silverstream was cupping a bloody talon over a spot on her neck where the feathers were soaked to a bright crimson. Smolder lay on the floor, unconscious. Both of them, along with Gallus, were receiving immediate attention in the medical wing.

There was another thing on her mind, however. It was what she did after seeing Ocellus lying still on the floor in front of Mr. Black. She became enraged.

“What did you do!” she had yelled. Then, without thinking, her horn ignited.

Mr. Black was thrown against the wall, her magic wrapped around his neck. She was sure in that moment that he was the killer. Without a doubt!

Then she felt one of her students tug at her shoulder. It was Gallus. Her attention still fixated on the hippogriff gasping for air, talons around his neck, she quickly realized that she was too brash in her assumption and dropped him.

He didn’t even scold her for it. In fact, he chuckled and said, “I’ve been through worse.”

Despite the feelings of no ill contempt thrown her way, Starlight found herself still thinking back to that moment. She was usually more rational than that. However, there she was with her magic wrapped around Mr. Black's neck, ready to watch the life drain away from his body. The only reason why she let him go was that a student stopped her.

Was her head in the right place anymore? Starlight thought back to the last few days and realized that she couldn’t remember most of what happened. It all felt like a distant memory, with only the most horrific of moments perfectly etched into her mind. Finding Lemongrass’s corpse. Watching Skeedaddle get his head crushed in. Realizing that the killer was near them all along and not taking the proper action in time to stop them.

“The Gourmet and Sugar-Free Trixie went through the effort of making that for you. You should drink it.”

Starlight glanced over at Trixie then down at the mug. “Oh!” she exclaimed, then brought the mug to her mouth and took one big gulp. It burned.

She didn’t make a face to indicate her burning mouth, but Trixie added a snippy comment anyway, “It’s hot.”

“Thanks,” Starlight gasped. The roof of her mouth already stung, while her taste buds felt like they were scalded off her tongue. Her throat would be sore in a bit. She took another sip and hid her pain.

“Tall, dark, and mysterious would like to speak to you again,” Trixie continued. “He says that he has some questions.”

Starlight nodded. “Right.” She turned in the direction of her office. “I figured he would.”

If not about the incident, she thought, then surely relating to Ocellus.

The two went to the Headmare’s Office. Inside, Ocellus lay spread out across an easy chair with her head lolling over the armrest, a sliver of saliva dripping down her chin. Mr. Black sat in front of her silently, staring off into space. When Starlight closed the door, he turned his head toward her and said, “How often does she act out?”

Starlight was dumbstruck for a moment, mostly because she wasn’t ready to go right into questioning. “Uh…” She searched her brain for any instance where the changeling lashed out with her emotions in any way. There was the death of Lemongrass, but her reaction made sense. Other than that, Ocellus was a good student who rarely let her emotions overwhelm her.

She shook her head. “I can’t say that she ever does. This would be a first.”

“Does she have a violent history of any kind?”

Starlight nodded. “She grew up under Chrysalis’s reign. I imagine that she might have endured some abuse along the way. I don’t know for sure, however.”

“Mental trauma, mostly,” Trixie spoke up. Starlight glanced over at her. “She talks about her experience a lot during our sessions. The hive wasn’t exactly known for ‘kindness,’ and Trixie infers that she may have emotions in reserve.”

Starlight walked up to the changeling resting on the easy chair, setting her mug down on the desk. “Getting extremely emotional doesn’t explain why she tried to kill all of her friends. She’s usually so level-minded.”

“If I may add,” Mr. Black incurred, “and allow me to state that this is based on very little evidence so far, but I am qualified to infer such a diagnosis based on my psychology degree. It is possible that she has developed a type of Dissociative Identity Disorder. This is common with creatures who have experienced some form of trauma throughout their childhood. This is just a suggestion, however. We still have to wait for her to wake up.”

Starlight stared down at the still changeling. She examined the magic inhibitor on her horn, and her eyes trailed down to the strange metal box that encapsulated both of Ocellus’s forehooves. It looked to be a pair of cuffs.

“How strong was that tranquilizer you gave her?” Starlight asked. She turned back to the hippogriff.

“Hmm…” Mr. Black scratched at the spot directly beneath his beak with a single claw. “Although it was an elephant tranquilizer, the dosage wasn’t nearly enough to take down a fully grown calf. Now, if the yak — Yona was it?” —Starlight nodded— ”Right, if she were the one on the rampage, then the most it would have done is make her drowsy due to her body mass. And maybe if the changeling was in yak form, we would still be trying to contain her. But she was in griffon form. So, if I had to guess…”

“Die!”

Starlight practically lurched out of her skin as the cold cuffs that Ocellus was wearing suddenly wrapped around her neck. Starlight was immediately glad for the bulkiness of the cuffs, because if they were any thinner then the changeling would be choking her out. Instead, Ocellus brought her close so that the pony was forced onto her haunches, and yelled, “If you come any closer, I’ll kill her!”

Starlight thought she saw Mr. Black raise a brow. This was confirmed when he lowered his sunglasses down his beak slightly, exposing the blue of his irises. He pushed the sunglasses back up to his eyes. “Not your brightest student, is she?”

“What are you going on about?” Ocellus bit. “I’m threatening to kill her. I’ll do it before you even realize that it happened!”

“Yes, and how do you plan on doing that?”

“I’ll use my magic! I’ll make her head explode. I’ll compress her cranium until brain matter splatters everywhere.” She brought Starlight closer, trying but failing to put more pressure on her neck. “I’ll do it all in an instant, and you won’t even have time to react.”

This didn’t sound like Ocellus. It sounded like someone else. Her voice was much more guttural and full of malice. No, whoever this was, it was not the Ocellus she knew.

“You can try,” Mr. Black continued, “But it’s not going to work.” He pointed to her horn. “That inhibitor around your horn prevents you from conjuring magic. The worst you could do is get a headache. And that’s hurting no one but yourself, is it?”

Ocellus tried to pull the rectangular cuffs closer around Starlight’s neck. It was uncomfortable — very uncomfortable—but not life-threatening. “I’ll snap her neck!”

“Your hooves are in too awkward of a position to do so.”

“I’ll stab my horn through her head!”

“I’m an arm’s length away from you. Do you really think that will work? Out of everyone in this room, you should understand the most how nimble I can be.”

The grip around Starlight’s neck loosened a bit. Ocellus grew silent. Then, after letting out a terrifying sound that was surely fueled by the frustration of Mr. Black taking her out so easily, Ocellus bit down on her neck.

Starlight screamed. Both Trixie and Mr. Black were on them immediately. Casting her magic, Trixie forced Ocellus’s jaws apart. Mr. Black tried to pry her forehooves from around Starlight’s neck, but the changeling’s grip was too tight, and the two were squirming so much that it made it difficult to get a decent grip.

Ocellus kicked her hind leg out, hitting Mr. Black in the beak so that the hippogriff backpedaled. Once Ocellus released her jaw from Starlight’s neck, the two fell to the floor. Starlight thrashed and kicked. She tried to scream, but all that came out was a choking sound mixed with the gurgle of her own saliva. Ocellus finally found the right angle to choke her from.

Trixie cast her magic again, this time focusing it all on Ocellus. The changeling lifted off the ground a little, but her grip remained, dragging Starlight up with her. Immediately, Starlight wanted Trixie to stop, stop, just stop helping now please you’re only making things worse!

Fishing through his satchel, Mr. Black procured a key and inserted it into the lock of the odd-looking cuffs. They opened, and before Ocellus could even attempt to make her escape, Mr. Black picked her up by the back of the neck and slammed her facefirst into the floor.

Although the slam looked plenty painful, Ocellus didn’t react. Instead, she swiped her hoof, trying to hit Mr. Black in some way. He calmly grabbed it and pinned it to the floor alongside her head.

“Right,” he said. “Are you done with your tantrum?”

“Fuck you.”

Starlight let out a loud gasp, breathing in and out, in and out. She laid on the floor for several seconds, waiting for the air to refill her lungs. When her breathing died down, she turned her head to where Ocellus was pinned to the floor. There was a lime-green liquid smeared across the tiles. That same lime-green liquid was flowing out of the changeling’s nostrils.

Starlight sat up, her face contoured in rage. “Stop hurting my student immediately!”

Without looking up, “Nevermind that she just attacked you? Student of yours or not, she would have killed you.”

Starlight got to her hooves. “I don’t care! Whoever this is, it isn’t Ocellus. Until we figure out what’s wrong with her, I’d appreciate it if you don’t treat her as anything less than a living being!”

Mr. Black grew silent. Starlight thought she had him stumped or that maybe she had broken through some kind of ego-barrier, but then he spoke up again. “So, again, your student normally doesn’t act this way?”

Her frown remained, but she nodded. Then, making sure to keep a bit of sternness in her voice, she said, “She’s normally kind and delicate. She would never go out of her way to harm the other students.”

“Have you noticed signs leading up to this event?”

“Not until the other day.” She stopped herself, dropping the frown into something more contemplative. Her eyes widened. The other day. The other day when Ocellus had randomly guessed the death of Lemongrass. The other day when the exact moment that Ocellus touched her hoof, it triggered Starlight to remember every gruesome detail of the night before.

Starlight didn’t realize that she was quiet for too long until Mr. Black called for her attention. “Is something the matter?”

Would he accuse her of harboring evidence? In her own way, Starlight knew that Ocellus was somehow responsible for all that had happened in the last few days. Albeit, it was all confusing to her. Ocellus wouldn’t harm a fly, Starlight knew that. But she had to sell her own student out if it meant others would be safe.

Starlight sighed. “She… she knew about Lemongrass. The first death. I didn’t know how or why, and… I still don’t know how or why. Because unless she was acting, the revelation was so sudden. I don’t —”

“What do you mean, sudden?” Mr. Black looked up at her.

Starlight’s jaw quivered. “I-I mean if Ocellus knew at the time that Lemongrass was dead, then I don’t know why she suddenly decided to reveal that she knew. We were having a normal conversation, then she touched my hoof, and then…” She shivered, not sure how to explain the cold feeling that ran through her body. “And then, she said, ‘Is Lemongrass dead?’”

“Did you have a flashback when she touched you?”

The room went silent. Starlight opened her mouth, ready to respond, but all that came out was silence. How did he deduce that? If he was a detective, then he certainly earned his badge. But where was he going with all of this?

“Judging by your silence,” he said. “I can infer that my assumption was correct.”

Starlight closed her mouth and nodded slowly.

Mr. Black turned his head toward Trixie and nodded. “Do me a favor and recuff her. I need to gather more evidence before I arrive at my final conclusion.” He turned his head back to Starlight. “I’ll need to visit your students.”

~•~

Silverstream heard nothing. Not a cry, not a whisper, not even the soothing sound of white noise to block out the silence. She heard, quite simply, nothing.

She looked across the room, over at Yona and Sandbar. The two were talking up a storm, probably discussing what had transpired. They were just words to her. Words without any direct meaning. Suddenly, it felt like nothing had meaning. Not while she was still muddled within the depths of confusion. Confusion for one of her best friends and why she attacked Silverstream the way she did. Confusion as to why Smolder still laid unconscious. Confusion, confusion, and nothing but confusion on her mind.

Silverstream glanced over at the unconscious dragon. The lamp on Smolder’s bedside table had been flicked off, so it was hard to make out her friend’s face. Green Hearth’s Warming lights hung from the ceiling of the Hospital Wing, blinking on and off, on and off, lighting the dragon’s face in small intervals. If she focused, Silverstream could barely make out Smolder’s frame moving up and down subtly with each breath.

Silverstream shot air out of her nostrils, finally accepting that her friend was (somewhat) okay. She leaned her head back against the wall and closed her eyes. All she wanted to do was sleep. All she wanted to do was worry about this tomorrow. Not now, not in the next five minutes, but tomorrow, when all of her thoughts would be realigned.

Tomorrow…

Something nudged Silverstream’s side.

Her eyes cracked open. “What?” she groaned.

“You doin’ okay?” Gallus asked.

Oh, it’s just him. Her eyes closed again. “Yeah. I’m fine.”

No, I’m not, is what she really wanted to say, but she also really wanted to sleep. As much as she wanted to vent, she didn’t have enough energy to carry on for another five minutes.

“Sorry about what happened,” Gallus continued. “On the date. That was weird.”

Silverstream looked over at the griffon, befuddled. “What?”

“Our first date.” Gallus lifted a claw in the air, flicking his wrist as if motioning to something, but there was nothing to motion to. “It went horrible? I wish it could have gone better.”

“Oh,” Silverstream laid her head back against the wall and sighed. “I mean, you tried. It was going pretty good until that detective guy showed up.”

The image of the mysterious hippogriff standing amidst all the chaos at the Tree of Harmony emerged in her mind. How did he know where to find all of them? Silverstream found that the more questions that got answered, the more that showed up. She tried not to think about them.

“I just…” Gallus continued. “You know how it is?”

Silverstream turned her head back to the griffon, eyebrow raised. “What do you mean?”

“I mean…” Gallus sighed, eyes rolling as if simultaneously rolling over the words in his mind. “You deserve better. Like, wow, that was shit.”

Silverstream straightened up and extended her wing around Gallus’s back, draping it over his right shoulder. Scooting closer, she rested her head down against his other and closed her eyes. “I loved our date, for all it’s worth. You couldn’t have done any better.”

“No, I mean like, wow, I’ve been a shithead.”

“You’ve been trying your best.”

“No, mean… when you found out that Lemongrass died? I should have been there. It was shitty of me to think that it was okay to leave you like that.”

Silverstream’s eyes opened and she sat up, staring at Gallus. She looked into his eyes and realized that… they were bloodshot.

She sighed, the wing draped over his shoulder drooping. “Gallus, you’re still high.”

Gallus reached a talon to his face and rubbed one of his eyes with the back of his index digit. “Is it really that noticeable?”

Silverstream lifted her own talon and placed it on the back of Gallus’s neck, massaging it. “We can talk about this when you’re not paranoid. How does tomorrow sound?”

She held her breath. What were they even going to do tomorrow? Here she was, acting like the upcoming week would be normal. Ocellus was in custody. She just tried to kill them.

Silverstream tried to draw some ideas from her brain to figure out what would happen the next day, but she was left with a blank slate. They probably wouldn’t even have time to talk.

Silverstream continued massaging the back of his neck. “Scratch that — we’ll talk when everything gets better.”

She reached her other talon up to the pad that was bandaged against the patch on her neck where feathers should have been.

Suddenly, it felt like nothing would.

Silverstream leaned her head back against the wall, closing her eyes. Worry was for tomorrow. If she worried too much now, she wouldn’t have the energy to cope with the aftermath later. All she wanted to do was sleep… sleep… sleep…

Breathing. Silverstream heard breathing. Breathing that grew louder and louder with each passing breath.

Her eyes shot open, and she looked in Smolder’s direction. The dragon was squirming in bed and hyperventilating.

~•~

Smolder woke up in a strange room under strange lights. It was dark, but every few seconds the lights would flash green, allowing for a good view. A divider stood on one side of her, and on the other was a night table with a lamp flicked off. A dull pain throbbed in her forehead.

She sat up and scanned the room. The green lights flashed on again, and she could see an entire row of beds on the other side. She looked to her left and saw the same. They were all empty. She was alone.

Smolder laid back down, glad that her aching head had a comfortable pillow to fall on. She was in the medical wing, laying on a shitty bed. Well, not that shitty. She was comfy. The room was just the right temperature. For the first time in a while, all Smolder wanted to do was snooze away.

She had had trouble sleeping the past semester. She tried several methods at first, but eventually, her mind would get clogged with various thoughts that weren’t exactly kosher; not a lot of them were. She tried thinking of happy things at first, things that she enjoyed. Tea parties, for example. However, something about them suddenly felt… pitiful.

Smolder no longer took interest in the girly stuff that made her days feel a little brighter. She remembered when she first got into tea, how she studied the various leaves and experimented with how to get the strongest flavor. Shit, she put more effort into studying tea leaves than she did with her actual schoolwork.

Then, one day, the frilly dresses and all of her herbals were tossed into the trash. Smolder wanted nothing to do with them. They didn’t matter in the grand scheme of anything. Nothing mattered. Well, her friends did, but they would be gone soon. After that, she would have nothing else to live for. Her life was almost over. Not in a literal sense. She had no plans of offing herself anytime soon, although… sometimes, the feeling did show up.

Occasionally, Smolder wondered what it would be like to die. Like now. She imagined herself going through some tragic accident that cost her her life. She imagined all of her friends going to her funeral, standing next to her casket and moping, then going up to the podium and saying something sappy like, “Anyone remember Smolder, that scaly fuck?”

Okay, maybe that’s not how it would happen to the exact detail, and Smolder knew it was fucked up to have those sort of thoughts. She had them anyway. And just liked that… she couldn’t sleep again.

Her eyes blinked open. Green filled her vision, then dissipated. Green filled her vision, then dissipated. Green filled her vision, then dissipated. Green filled her vision —

Breathing. Smolder heard breathing. Someone was in the room with her. She looked to her left, down the row of beds. The room was briefly illuminated with green, and she saw that none of the beds had any occupants. She turned her head toward the divider — the room illuminated, and a silhouette appeared. The room illuminated again, and the silhouette returned.

Well, shit. Just when Smolder thought that she had a room to herself, she discovers that she has another roommate. She would have to not pay them any mind.

She stared back up at the ceiling, examining the many glow-in-the-dark star decals clustered together. Smolder thought that maybe if she counted each star individually her mind would become occupied enough and allow her to sleep. She started…

One… Two… Three… Numbers rolled through her head like the wheels of a cart speeding downhill. Seventy-six… Seventy-seven… Seventy-eight… She lost count. Either she skipped a few numbers or there were so many to count that she counted the same ones. Nonetheless, it was progress. Eighty-five… Eighty-six… Eighty-seven…

“Smolder…”

Smolder stopped counting. She tilted her head toward the divider. The room was illuminated. The silhouette appeared. The silhouette was gone. The silhouette appeared. The silhouette was gone.

“Ayy, you say something?” Smolder tried. The silhouette appeared.

Nothing but heavy breathing. The silhouette disappeared.

Exhaling air out of her nostrils, Smolder resumed counting stars.

One… Two… Three…

She stopped. There was no use in continuing. She wouldn’t be sleeping any time soon. Maybe she could sneak into the library and read a book to pass the time, or better yet: sneak into the cafeteria, so she could get some food. Part of her regretted turning down Gallus’s offer for free pizza. It had been a while since she last ate something. Come to think of it, wasn’t the last thing she ate that bowl of porridge Ocellus didn’t want?

Scratch that. It was two bowls of porridge. Her stomach rumbled.

“Smolder.”

Her head jolted back toward the divider. The lights flashed. This time the silhouette was sitting up.

“What?” Smolder said with a touch of annoyance. Was this creature going to bother her all night?

“Come here,” it said in a hushed voice.

“What’s up?” she somewhat whispered, but she was sure her new roommate heard her.

“Come here.”

The lights flashed, and the silhouette held an arm out, gesticulating with what looked to be a claw.

Smolder sat up. The lights flashed, and the silhouette’s arm lowered.

“Listen, if ya need to tell me something, tell me something. Don’t make me put in the work for it.”

The lights flashed, and the silhouette remained still. Only, there was something… uncomfortable about how still it was. As if it could see Smolder through the divider, and not just her own silhouette. The divider might as well not be there.

Silence filled the room. The lights flashed. The silhouette remained still. The breathing intensified. The lights flashed. The silhouette remained still. The intensified breathing kept at a stagnant pace. The lights flashed. The silhouette remained still. Smolder slid out of bed.

“Yo, what do you need?”

No response. The lights flashed. The silhouette stared back at her.

“If you don’t need something then why do you keep calling for me!?”

No response. The lights flashed. The silhouette stared back at her.

Frustrated, Smolder reached toward the edge of the divider, pulled it aside, and yelled, “Quit fucking around and —”

The lights flashed. Smolder stared back at herself. Only, it wasn’t herself. Well, it was, but the dragon might as well have been unrecognizable. The entire left side of her face was gone, exposing her skull. Her eye was still in its socket, staring back at the real Smolder like she was the only thing it could see. What really sent shivers down Smolder’s spine, however, was the piece of brian that was exposed where a shard of skull was missing.

“They hate you,” it said. The voice was unrecognizable. It sounded guttural, like it took immense effort to say those words. “They hate you. You don’t need them.”

Smolder stepped back, forgetting that the bed was behind her and bumping her rear-end into it. Her eyes were wide, filled with all sorts of shock. She wasn’t sure how to register the sight. She only knew that it was in front of her, and even that wasn’t enough to convince her that it was real.

She fell back on the bed and rolled over on her back, and hit the floor on the other side. She banged her knee on the way down, although that was the least of her worries.

Smolder ran—waddled more like, what with her injured knee. Still, she kept at a fast pace. The decorative Hearth’s Warming lights continued to flash, and every time they went dark her heart stuttered, thinking that it would only take one moment — one — for the room to go black and she would trip over essentially nothing.

She didn’t, however, and she made it to the door. Without looking back, Smolder opened it, and burst out of the room, slamming it shut behind her.

The hallways flashed on-and-off, on-and-off, on-and-off with the same green lights. However, unlike the medical wing, there were no decorative Hearth’s Warming lights strung from the ceiling. The green light was simply there by its own apparition.

Smolder ran down the hall. Her footsteps echoed, grating against her ears, feeling like taunts. “You’re not moving fast enough!” they were saying. Then, her own footsteps overlapped with the sound of other footsteps running behind her. She didn’t look back.

Smolder swerved, turning in the intersection of the hallway. She didn’t know where she was going. It was away from that thing, and that was all that was important. She ran, the green lights flashed. She ran, the green lights flashed. She ran…

Finally, Smolder arrived at a door at the end of the hall. The footsteps sounded far away, so maybe she had time to hide in there?

In her desperation to get inside, she almost ripped the door off its hinges by ramming into it. The solid wood crackled, but it showed no signs of damage. Smolder reached a jittering claw to the door handle, pulled it open, ran inside, and locked the door behind her.

She leaned back against the door, not huffing but hyperventilating. There was this weird loud whistling sound with each breath she took, and she did her best to calm herself down.

Think happy thoughts… Think happy thoughts… Think happy thoughts…

She thought of tea. Yes! Tea, that’s right! I love tea. I — I also love to play dress-up. I love to dress up in frilly dresses and drink tea. I prefer it when the leaves are in the water instead of the packet. It makes the flavor more robust…

Her breathing was starting to die down. Smolder slid down against the door, sitting on the floor. Her breathing continued.

I still have my tea kettle set. I should see if any of my friends would like to have a picnic sometime. I can introduce my favorites. Oolong, Earl Grey, green, hibiscus…

Her breathing died down. The green light appeared. Her mind was calm. The green light appeared. She closed her eyes. Smolder knew that she wasn’t in the safest of places, but she lacked the energy to get up. Part of her wanted to let that monster catch her and end it all right away. Another part of her wanted to get as far away as possible from the school.

She opened her eyes.

The green light appeared.

Smolder couldn’t move. She could only see. What she saw was a grisly sight. There, standing a few feet in front of her was another Smolder, holding Gallus’s severed head and ripping a piece of his brain out with her teeth.

The green light appeared, and there was Gallus’s headless corpse laying next to the doppelganger. The green light appeared, and there was Silverstream with the cords in her neck strewn across the tiled floor. The green light appeared, and there was Sandbar with his eyes gouged out. The green light appeared, and there was Yona with the contents of her stomach spilled out.

Smolder did the best she could to hold back the urge to vomit. The smell of gastro intestines and rotting corpses filled her nostrils. The green light appeared, and the doppelganger turned to Smolder.

“I know you’re hungry,” it said.

Smolder tried to scream but couldn’t. Her breathing built up, and she was making that loud whistling sound again.

The light returned, and the doppelganger dropped Gallus’s head onto his corpse. It rolled onto the floor, landing on its side and facing her with its tongue lolled out. The light returned, and the doppelganger began walking toward her. Smolder’s breathing quickened. The light returned, and it was already almost there. Smolder was paralyzed. The light returned. The doppelganger kneeled down in front of her.

“The hippogriff,” it said. “Not the pink one, the tall one with black feathers. He’s against you.”

Smolder tried to say something, but her breathing overlapped. The light returned, the doppelganger placed a claw on her shoulder.

“They might get in the way. They don’t want you to make it to Canterlot. The first chance you get…” The doppelganger opened its jaw wide, exposing the sharpness of its teeth. Then it bit down. “I know you’re hungry. You want to do it. But first, the hippogriff. Do him, followed by the pink one, followed by the griffon, and the rest… Do you understand?”

Smolder nodded quickly, trying to provide an audible, “Yes,” but couldn’t. The doppelganger shook her shoulder.

“Smolder…”

The light returned, and it placed its claws on both her shoulders and shook her. “Smolder…”

Her breathing intensified. It shook her harder.

“Smolder!”

Smolder jolted up in bed, swiping her claw through the air and catching someone in the face. She was breathing heavily, although not hyperventilating. She looked at the creature that shook her awake and saw that it was Gallus, holding a talon over three parallel scratches across his cheek.

Smolder glanced around the room, past all the confused faces of her friends and toward the divider. The green light flicked on, and it was pushed aside, revealing an empty bed. Smolder let out a relieved sigh.

“You good?” Gallus said.

Smolder looked back at him and saw that he was still cradling a talon to his face. “Uh… yeah. Sorry, dude.” She scratched her head and looked around some more. Gallus, Silverstream, Yona, and Sandbar were all there standing around her bed, but where was…

“Ayy, where’s Ocellus?”

Immediately, everyone looked uneasy, as if she casually dropped a slur. She opened her mouth to ask about what was going on, but Silverstream spoke over her before she got the chance.

“You… don’t remember much… do you?”

Smolder tried to recontextualize the entire night in her mind. Well, it started with picking Ocellus up from the dorm, they had a small argument, they went to the Treehouse of Friendship, they watched a movie… and at some point, she faceplanted into the ground. Now she was here.

She shook her head. “No, I don’t. Anycreature mind telling me what’s up?”

Not a word was spoken. Smolder looked around again, trying to put the pieces together. Sandbar appeared like he was ready to say something, but he fell back into silence quickly. Yona simply backed away. Gallus was the one to take the step forward and say it outright.

“Ocellus went batshit and started attacking everyone. First Silverstream, then me, then you tried to save me and she attacked you, then she… started turning into things. One thing led to another, and you hit the ground. Hard.”

Brief images of what transpired sprang forward into her mind. She remembered trying to pry Ocellus’s jaw apart from around Gallus’s talon and getting headbutted in the eye. It wasn’t enough to be painful, but it still felt sore. Another memory flashed, and her attention was broken away from the movie. It was Silverstream screaming. She didn’t have a good view of the chaos because the light of the projector blocked her path, but after getting up she saw all the feathers scattered along the floor and in Ocellus’s mouth.

Whatever happened tonight, Smolder didn’t quite understand. All she knew was that she wanted to see Ocellus. Maybe then there would be answers to whatever the fuck was going on.

~•~

“Do you need me with you?” Starlight asked Mr. Black. They stared at the doors leading into the medical wing from across the hall.

“That would kill two birds with one stone, yes.”

Starlight looked up at him, an eyebrow quirked. “What do you mean?”

“Well, once I gather all I need to know, I’ll have to inform them of what’s going on and what’s about to happen. The same goes for you. It’ll be best if you’re present so that I don’t have to repeat information.”

He began walking ahead. Starlight stood there, befuddled. “Excuse me, but you still haven’t explained what’s going on.”

Still walking ahead, Mr. Black called back, “You’re a smart gal from what I’ve gathered. I think you’ve put it together yourself.”

Starlight tried to think about it for a moment. She thought, she thought, and she thought, but no ideas came to her. Her mind was, quite simply, blank.

“I still don’t understand what you’re getting at.” she said, catching up to him.

Mr. Black stopped, Starlight halting directly behind the hippogriff. He turned, and for the first time since she met him, tilted his head down at her. “Hm… that’s right. I suppose you wouldn’t find it to be the most logical of conclusions to jump to. Tell me, Starlight, you’ve seen a lot in your lifetime. Do you believe in the possibility of a possession taking residence within one of your students?”

Starlight froze. She examined Mr. Black’s face, trying to find any hint of a joke. He was one hundred percent serious. The weirdest part about it was… she thought of it as plausible. Part of her couldn’t exactly put the pieces together still. Another part knew exactly what was going on but didn’t quite understand how to handle the facts. The only evidence that Ocellus was possessed was her drastic change in personality… and carnivorous behavior.

Starlight nodded slowly.

“Good,” Mr. Black said. “Now I will tell you this: believe that absolutely everything is possible for the next five minutes. If not, you won’t be able to cope with the facts. You might not believe them at first, but trust me, every single sign points to the fact that you are, without a doubt, also possessed. Once I visit with your students, we can finally put this one nail in the coffin. Then, well, we start away at the next nail.”

Starlight’s mind was blank. What Mr. Black had just said was absurd, but… she thought she was just going insane the last few days. No, how could she be this dumb? It should have been obvious but some stubborn part of her mind blocked it off.

How else could the killer be so difficult to kill when she had it in her sight? Was she really going insane during those hallucinations? How, in one swift turn, did she end up in a cave, when only moments before she was in the School of Friendship?

The weirdest part about tonight wasn’t her students almost getting killed, suddenly ending up in the catacombs beneath the school, or even realizing that she was possessed the whole time. Neither was it the fact that she wasn’t surprised. It was the fact that Mr. Black, your typical Canterlot detective, was able to make such an absurd deduction.

“Are you coming?”

Train of thought broken, Starlight saw that Mr. Black was holding open the door to the medical wing and waiting for her to go inside.

“Oh, yes, sorry.”

As Starlight passed the hippogriff and entered the room, a thought lingered on her mind.

Who are you really, Mr. Black?

Chapter 10 - Certainty and Uncertainty

Smolder tilted her head. Before the group stood a tall figure. The way the light spilled out from the hall made it look like a walking shadow. Her heart thumped; maybe the dream wasn’t over. Then, the green light came on, and she saw that it was the hippogriff. The very hippogriff that she ran into a few days ago. What was he doing here?

“Can someone turn on the lights?” he said.

Starlight tread in from behind at a speedy pace, her horn a vibrant turquoise. The green light flashed and blinked away as new light filled the room.

“Better.” The hippogriff nodded. Lowering onto his haunches, he opened the black leather satchel at his side and pulled out a matchstick and a small, thin case. He flipped that open, taking out a cigarette.

Starlight walked up to Smolder’s bedside, placing a hoof against the dragon’s forehead. “How do you feel?”

“Like I ran into a wall,” Smolder replied. Then she added, “A wall made of floor.”

Starlight smirked. “The snarky comments check out.” She turned to the other five students. “How about you guys?”

“Still breathing, still standing,” Gallus replied.

“My neck stings a little, but I’ll pull through!” Silverstream chirped.

“My eyes still itch,” Sandbar added.

Starlight raised an eyebrow. “Why is that?”

Sandbar’s eye twitched, and he looked down at the floor, rubbing his hoof along the smooth tiles. “No reason.”

A snap and everyone’s attention switched back to the hippogriff. He held a flaming matchstick in one talon and a cigarette in his beak. The flame lingered over the tip of the cigarette until it burned a smoldery orange. He waved the matchstick out, flicking it into the trashcan next to the door.

The tip of the cigarette brightened, and smoke escaped his beak like an extinguished fireball.

Smolder pointed at him. “Yo, didn’t I see you the other day?”

“Yes,” the hippogriff said, smoke still filtering out of his beak. “I assure you, our interaction was pure coincidence. Although, I had expected to meet with you eventually.”

Her eyes widened. “What do you mean?”

“You were one of my prime suspects for this case, but not anymore. Now we know who the real killer is.”

The room was stunned into silence as if the mysterious hippogriff standing in the doorway used some taboo word. Killer? Is that what he just called Ocellus?

Smolder clenched her fists. “What do you mean killer?”

“Your friend murdered two innocent ponies,” he said with a calm demeanor. “And she would have killed you had I not stopped her.”

Her fist loosened. That part was true. Ocellus did slam her to the floor, after all.

He took another drag on the cigarette and huffed out another cloud of smoke. “I won’t mince words. You are all in a potentially dangerous situation. Life-threatening. Life-threatening to both yourselves and whoever gets involved. First I need to put all of the facts together. This changeling, you’re all friends with her, yes?”

Smolder nodded, along with several other heads.

“And she doesn’t normally act this way?”

Multiple heads nodded again.

“How does she normally act?”

Silverstream was the first to speak. “She’s usually so sweet and innocent!” She had stepped forward to say it, but a weird look set on her face. Her head lowered, Silverstream’s eyes refusing to meet the hippogriff for some reason. She continued quietly, “She would never attack anycreature. That wasn’t her.”

Smolder dangled her legs over the bedside. “Yeah, she doesn’t normally act this berserk. Come to think of it, she never acts berserk. Aside from being a little emotional sometimes, she’s the most level-headed creature I know.”

It was true. Ocellus could be sappy sometimes, and Smolder didn’t exactly like being the shoulder Ocellus could cry on. But out of all her friends, Ocellus was the only one that she didn’t argue with. Mainly because there was no reason to argue with her. She was too nice for arguments.

That and… Ocellus was the only one that tolerated her antics. Well, there was Silverstream, but she was too bombastic. Smolder’s personality tended to correlate with Gallus’s, but the griffon was always afraid of opening himself up. Ocellus was the only real creature she could vent to. It made her want to hurl to admit it, but the changeling was always there for her. She was always at the tea parties and never teased when she found out that Smolder liked to play dress-up.

Ocellus was Ocellus, and that was what made her amazing.

An invasive thought peaked its ugly head over the trenches in Smolder’s mind. She tried to push it down and focus on the current moment. Still, it stayed there, making the dragon’s stomach churn.

Maybe this will be the last time that I see her.

~•~

Gallus wanted to say something. Here he was, standing in front of the hippogriff that ruined his date with Silverstream. The same hippogriff that also managed to stop Ocellus before she did something she’d regret. His mind still lingered toward that moment. If this so-called detective hadn’t shown up when he did, someone would have ended up dead. Perhaps, multiple creatures.

Perhaps Sandbar would have thrown the film reel at her, and it would have combusted. The thought of it blowing up in Ocellus’s face and sending her into a blaze sent shivers down his spine. It was weird to admit, even in his head, but he loved his friends. Still, if it saved everyone at that moment, he would have gone through with it himself.

The detective showed up. Again. He just popped up out of nowhere; seemingly, his favorite way of making an appearance. The more Gallus thought about this detective guy, the less he trusted him. Something in his gut just gave him this feeling.

The hippogriff continued, “Have any of you noticed details leading up to this event?”

Gallus and Silverstream passed a glance to each other. Smolder was the one to speak up. “Yeah, she was very dodgy earlier.”

“How so?”

“She got into a fight with Gallus and Silverstream over here —” she jabbed a thumb over at the two of them “-- dropped an F-bomb, took a swing at one of them.”

“She pushed me to the ground,” Gallus corrected.

“Whateves, you cried like a bitch. Anyways —”

“Language!” Starlight bit.

Smolder rolled her eyes. “Anyways, she glocked Gal Pal here, and later I went to pick her up for movie night, and when I asked her about it she was like, ‘What do you mean,’ and I was like, ‘You dropped an F-bomb then dropped Gallus,’ and she was like, ‘No I didn’t. I would have remembered that, and I, like, didn’t care so I didn’t ask her any more questions.”

The hippogriff shifted back to Gallus. “Is this true?”

“Yep,” Gallus replied.

The memory of it still felt awkward. Ocellus is usually so sweet and innocent like Silverstream said. But what happened back in the dorm room? Gallus hated drama. He was willing to put it past him and hope that Ocellus forgot about it the next day. Heck, he didn’t even care about an apology!

But Silverstream cared. Not about an apology, but about her friends. The part of his mind that was always irritable knew that it was petty to be annoyed by this. Who was he to judge if Silverstream couldn’t see that Ocellus wanted to be left alone?

It annoyed him even more that she couldn’t see that, and it didn't help that the bozo who ruined his date was standing before him.

“What brought on this debacle?”

~•~

“You did.”

Silverstream placed a talon over Gallus’s claw, which pointed in the direction of the mysterious hippogriff. Oh, she really loved Gallus, but his hardheadedness could be a nuance sometimes. Every once in a while, she wondered if he could have positive thoughts. They would have to talk about this later. Maybe when he still wasn’t so high?

“Please calm down,” she whispered in his ear.

“What?” Gallus barked. “Everything was going fine until he showed up!”

“Everything would have been worse off if I hadn’t shown up,” the hippogriff corrected. He took another pull from his cigarette and breathed out more smoke.

Silverstream’s head bobbed up and down rapidly. “He helped us. Can’t you see that?”

Gallus looked down at Silverstream’s claw placed over his, then back at the hippogriff standing in the doorway. He sighed and placed his talon back on the floor, averting his eyes. “Fine. He helped. But yeah,” he shifted his gaze back toward the hippogriff, still giving him a scornful look. “You. You were the reason why we were arguing with her.”

“What does he mean by that?” Starlight’s head shifted between Gallus and the hippogriff. “Is there something I need to know?”

Another drag from the cigarette. “I ran into this young fellow and his girlfriend when I had stopped at the local bakery for lunch.” Smoke filtered out of his mouth as he spoke. “I recognized the two of them from the Canterlot Gazette a few years back and saw the opportunity to gather information. I asked them a few questions, pure and simple.”

Starlight scowled and sauntered up to the hippogriff, each stride weighted with pure malice. “You spoke to two of my students without getting my permission first?”

“No,” the hippogriff stated in his usual calm way of speaking, from what Silverstream could gather. “I spoke to three of your students without your permission. That dragon over there was kind enough to give me directions to your office. Also, I don’t need your permission to gather information. Pardon me if this sounds pedantic or corny, but the law is my permission. I interview whom I please. Although I’ll admit, I could have eased up on the questions. My fellow hippogriff here—” he gestured with the talon holding the cigarette in Silverstream’s direction “—didn’t react well to the sudden revelation that a fellow student had died.”

“Excuse me,” Sandbar blurted. “But somepony died?”

Silverstream’s mind flashed back to that time in the bakery, to that very moment when the date was ruined. Oh no… Lemongrass…

Her stomach dropped, and a shiver ran through her body. The realization kicked in. Ocellus was the killer all along. She killed her own friend. A tiny squeak left Silverstream’s beak as she tried to choke back a sob. Nocreature noticed.

Nocreature except Gallus, who turned his head to her and whispered, “You good?”

“No…” she whispered back. Warm tears sprawled down her face. “No, I’m not.”

She really hoped that Ocellus was doing okay.

~•~

“So this little quarrel you had with her,” Mr. Black continued. “If I prompted the argument, then it was probably because I mentioned Lemongrass. Am I, as you say, in the ballpark?”

Sandbar heard Gallus say something but didn’t listen. A student? Murdered? Is that why the school was on lockdown? Sandbar remembered that moment when he stepped out into the courtyard and saw the tiny red flags planted everywhere. Is that where it happened?

Lemongrass, he thought. That was Ocellus’s friend.

Why didn’t Gallus tell him? When the griffon got back from his date he had told Sandbar that it didn’t go well and that Silverstream was feeling a little emotional. That was it; he didn’t elaborate any further and instead prompted the two of them to go to the library to plan for movie night.

Sandbar glanced over at Gallus. The griffon was shooting a stern gaze toward the mysterious hippogriff in the doorway. All that he could gather was that he was at the bakery with Gallus and Silverstream and that he was the one who revealed that Lemongrass was dead.

He shifted his attention to Silverstream, who had her head pointed to the floor, crying.

Oh, Sandbar thought. That’s why he didn’t tell me. Because he doesn’t care.

Well, maybe that wasn’t the reason. Maybe that was just Sandbar’s weed-induced brain throwing out wild speculations. Maybe the real reason was that they knew that Ocellus knew that Lemongrass was dead and didn’t want to tell anycreature else until they talked to her.

“Any other signs leading up to his event?”

“Uh,” Sandbar spoke up. The hippogriff’s head turned to him, and his heart dropped in his chest. Crap! I shouldn’t have said anything. He might notice that I’m high.

Sandbar cleared his throat. “She, um, she seemed tired. Like, tired a lot the last few days.”

“Has she been sleeping well?”

Sandbar heard a sniff and turned his head back toward Silverstream. “She’s been sleeping just fine,” she said, wiping away a tear.

~•~

Yona watched as the mysterious hippogriff took another huff from the cigarette, reducing it to a stub. He flicked it into the trash can beside the door, simultaneously releasing the smoke from his beak. She wasn’t sure what to make of him, neither was she sure what to make of this situation.

Was her friend going to be okay? Yona shook in place.

“Were there any more signs leading up to this event?”

Silence. Yona wanted to butt in and say something, but there was nothing of value that she could offer. They already talked about how tired she seemed all the time. They also talked about her rise in aggression, which Yona had no idea was an issue. She did sense some conflict in the air when Silverstream was helping her with the puzzle, but that was a situation that didn’t identify itself with her. Not until now, at least.

Immediately, she felt bad for not noticing something sooner. All of her friends had something to say about the situation at hand, yet Yona was the odd one out. She should be there for Ocellus!

She thought and she thought, and then she realized one bit of info that might have been important.

“Yona knows!” she chirped.

The mysterious hippogriff rotated his head in her direction. “Oh?”

“Ocellus no eat. She came into the lunchroom and gave Smolder porridge and say she not hungry. She do that for few days now.”

“Hm. Tired…” he mumbled. “Not eating…”

Yona thought it was weird how the hippogriff hardly moved. He would shift his head in someone’s direction to indicate that he was giving them attention, but other than that he was as still as a statue. Although, it could just be that Yona was more acclimated to Silverstream’s usual bombastic attitude.

She sighed. I hope Ocellus okay...

“All of this information is useful,” he continued. “I am one step closer to putting everything together. In fact, I am ninety-nine percent sure that what is happening is, in fact, happening. There’s just one more question I have before I finalize my conclusion.”

He turned to Starlight.

~•~

“How did that hole end up in the wall?”

Starlight blinked and wondered what he meant. It hit her like a brick: the giant hole in the hallway from when — “I was chasing what I thought was the killer. I… fired a magic beam to see if I could slow it down.”

Mr. Black was silent for a moment. Then, “Slow it down, as you say?”

Starlight looked down at her hooves. “I… may have gotten carried away.”

“So the killer revealed itself to you. You were aggravated because it has caused you so much stress for the last few days. You snapped and tried to exterminate the problem while it was in front of you.”

Starlight nodded, refusing to look up at him.

“Have you experienced anything else weird or supernatural?”

That word. Supernatural. It didn’t quite roll off the tongue, yet it sounded so right. In fact, it was the best word in Starlight’s vocabulary to describe the last few days. “Yes. When Ocellus touched me—”

“We already talked about that,” Mr. Black interrupted. “I mean any other instances. Hallucinations. Linked consciousness.”

Starlight looked back up. “Linked consciousness?”

“Have you had any out-of-body experiences? Like you were witnessing events through someone else’s eyes?”

Skedaddle's limp body popped into her mind. To think, she was so occupied with managing a million things at once that she forgot what could possibly be the most traumatic moment in her life. She opened her mouth and tried pushing the words out, but all that came out was a croak.

“What do you know about the death of Skedaddle?”

She blinked, shaking her head and trying to make sense of what he just asked. “Pardon?”

“The foal that was murdered. Did you witness his death?”

“Y-yes. How did you—”

“When I first met you and mentioned the foal that was murdered on the town’s border, I thought your reaction was a little out there. It’s normal for creatures to react strongly when they hear about a child dying, but to the point where they’re vomiting in a wastebasket? And it wasn’t just the vomiting. An odd look spread across your face before you went for the wastebasket. It wasn’t just disgust or horror, but realization. I though it was an odd look when I first spoke to you, but after the revelation of what happened when the changeling touched you…”

He tilted his head down at her, lowering his sunglasses down his beak and revealing the shimmer of his deep blue irises. “You went to sleep. A deep sleep. You had no control of your mind. Therefore it linked to the murderer. You saw everything that happened, down to every gruesome detail. Maybe when you woke up you doubted it. You thought it was some nightmare. Then, I come in and tell you that it all happened. You vomit. Any other linked experiences?”

Starlight was shaking. Her stomach was churning. Her coat felt prickly. It took her way too long to realize that Mr. Black had just asked her a question. She shook her head very slowly.

He pushed his sunglasses back up to his eyes and raised his head, shifted to the six students.

~•~

The facts.

Exhaustion. A typical symptom. Combine that with low appetite and this is a typical symptom of depression. Which is also a symptom of micropossession.

Sudden outbursts. The changeling, Ocellus, is known to be endearing among friends. Most likely wouldn’t harm a fly. Temper flared during an argument about the recently-deceased Lemongrass. Pushed her friend to the ground.

Ocellus is on the honor roll. She is thoughtful, and it would be reasonable to assume that she is meticulous, especially since the school board is considering her for this year’s valedictorian. However, every interaction I've had with her proves otherwise. The changeling is careless. Every decision she has made so far has been on a whim, which she hasn’t displayed the wit to pull off.

Example A: She could have left the students alone. It’s reasonable to assume that because they were in the middle of the Everfree Forest, she could have murdered everyone in the room and gotten away with it. The problem with that logic is there were too many creatures to keep track of. Someone analytical would have recognized that if even one creature escaped, it would have given her away as the killer. Not just that, but the changeling is known to be inseparable from her friends. If the five ended up dead and she lived, that would leave her to be questioned.

Example B: Attacking the head of the school in a position where she clearly couldn’t have done much. She’s desperate. Possibly egotistical, if her sudden outburst of anger at me mentioning how I bested her means anything.

Linked psyches. Starlight witnessed the death of the colt Skedaddle. The reaction she gave would have been considered over the top if a simple-minded detective interviewed her. I'm no simple-minded. I said, “A colt was found dead,” and that simple congregation of words brought forth flashbacks. Into the trash it goes.

Loss of appetite. A notable symptom of depression, but not one for micropossession. However, it does prove that the changeling was the one feeding off the brains of its victims. Why? I'm not a big history buff, but I do remember studying changeling history for that brief period of time back in university. It was normal a few hundred years back for hives to practice carnivorism. That died off with the rise of civilization as each hive agreed that it was an immoral act.

The last hive to partake in carnivorism disappeared almost fifty years ago.

Unless Ocellus was going through a change in psychosis, then it would explain her sudden outbursts and developed taste for flesh. If not, and it is micropossession, then either the soul that’s controlling the changeling is a changeling itself or a natural predator. After all, many of these hives focused on the brain in particular.

Loss of Appetite. Restlessness. Sudden outbursts. Linked psyches. A complete change in both mentality and personality. There was no doubt in Mr. Black’s mind.

“Listen up,” he spoke in a loud voice. Seven pairs of eyes stared back at him in anticipation. “Your friend is possessed. However, this is no ordinary possession. She is going through what is known as ‘micropossession.’ It is where the spirit is able to break itself up and take over multiple hosts. Basic possession is immediate while micropossession is gradual. You might not feel it at first, and it can be hard to identify. The most notable symptom is depression. When a portion of the spirit finds a host, it is unable to take over due to its weakened state. It slowly eats away at your brain, shifting the molecular structure, adding and removing chemicals… then, when your mind is weak, it takes over. Other symptoms include somnambulism. Your brain is unconscious when you sleep, so the spirit is able to slowly start taking over your body. They’re very limited in their capabilities at this stage, but give it time and it can develop into a full possession.”

Mr. Black’s eyes shifted from behind his sunglasses, examining each confused face in the room. “I’m saying all of this because there is a very good chance that one, if not some, of you are likely to have the spirit inside of you. There are methods for getting it out. Two, in fact. We could perform an exorcism. However, times have changed, and we don’t want to risk the chance of the host dying.”

The confusion shifted into horror, and Gallus chirped up. “What!”

“What the fuck you talking about?” Smolder jumped in.

“Calm down everyone!” Starlight commanded. “He said that was one of the methods. Let’s —”

“How is he so sure that we’re possessed?” Gallus pointed out. “None of us know this guy, and just as Ocellus goes berserk he comes in and stops her. All of this is so out of nowhere.”

Silverstream placed a talon over his shoulder. “Gallus, I think he’s right. At least, I hope so. Think about it. Why would Ocellus attack us? She couldn’t have been that mad about what happened back in the room.”

“Mr. Black is right,” Starlight added. “I’ve been experiencing some weird stuff myself. If it’s affecting me, there’s a very good chance it’s affecting some of you.”

Gallus calmed down a little, but a subtle look of terror made its way onto his face.

Mr. Black continued. “The other method is to extract the spirit using modern tech. This process is much safer. However, there’s a bit of an issue. The technology used to build such a machine is relatively expensive, so because of that, there is only one such device in Equestria.”

“Where would that be…” Starlight asked. Mr. Black didn’t have to see the look on her face to know that she didn’t like where this was leading.

“Headquarters. Which makes it inconvenient because we’re fighting against time. If we don’t hurry soon, then a full possession might take place — if it hasn’t already occurred within the changeling itself. That will make the process of extraction a lot more dangerous.”

Silence. It was the typical response that Mr. Black expected. This wasn’t his first time having to explain all this, although it was certainly on the verge of being one of his toughest jobs yet. There was another matter: a blockade.

“So, headquarters,” Starlight said, taking a single curious step toward Mr. Black. “Is that in Canterlot? I mean, you are part of the detective division, so it must—”

“No,” Mr. Black shook his head. “But it’s directly outside of Canterlot.”

Starlight’s head pulled back an inch, shock etched into her face. “B-but the snow — there’s no way — the weather station said to expect a blizzard later tonight with up to eight inches of snow! How are we going to get through that? I’m sorry, but we’re barricaded here.”

Mr. Black smirked and made Starlight take a step back. “There is a way.”

“Oh? And how do you think we’re going to make it through that?” She gestured toward the snow-ladened window, tiny flakes falling gently in the darkness of the night.

“Easy.” Mr. Black smirked and said…

~•~

“We confiscate a train.”

Starlight stared in wide-eyed puzzlement. A train. To get through the snow. Did he mean — of course! The Friendship Express. It would still be stationed due to the weather. If they could borrow it… somehow… then they could safely transfer the six students, along with herself, to Canterlot within a timely manner.

“We’ll need to leave right away to beat the storm.” He alternated to the students. “If any of you need to grab something for the trip, please speak now. Just know that from this point forward, none of you are leaving my side.”

Silverstream raised a talon, sniffing a little.

“Yes?” he asked.

“I think I need to grab two more of my emotional support sweaters.”

“Shit,” Smolder mumbled. “I think I need one of those after this conversation.”

Starlight frowned at her. The dragon responded with a simple shrug.

“Right,” Mr. Black stated, already pushing the door open. “We’ll stop by the dorms, but first, the Headmare’s Office.” He hung his head down and sighed. In Starlight’s eyes, it was the closest she had seen him lose his calm demeanor for the first time.

“It was a mistake on my part to leave the changeling alone with Trixie now that I’m one hundred percent certain about what’s going on. We should hurry.”

He left the room, walking at a brisk pace. Starlight followed behind, and as she began speed-walking, a thought appeared in her mind. It was like a star shooting across the sky; gone in less than a second. But it felt important. Like it was relative to the situation at hand.

Starlight didn’t like that she couldn’t remember it.

Chapter 11 - All Aboard

Darkness. Darkness, and nothing but.

It was all Ocellus understood. The dimly-lit tunnels of the hive were something she adapted to at a very young age. Everything outside, in the Bad Lands, and beyond she didn’t understand.

Ocellus heard stories. After the raid on Canterlot nearly three and a half years ago, all any of the soldiers could talk about was how much better the ponies had it. The atmosphere was friendlier, the smells were nicer, and the food was good.

Food was banned from the hive. None of the drones her age knew why. Ocellus especially struggled to comprehend the answer when Tibia, one of her dozens of siblings, brought her some chocolate one day.

Sometimes, she could still feel the tablet pressing against her tongue and melting in her mouth. It did wonders for her taste buds and heightened her receptors.

Why did the queen ban this? She had always wondered. By eating a simple tab of chocolate, she was more well-fed than she had been as a larva. It didn’t make any sense.

She thought she’d forget about the experience after that day. She had hoped she’d forget after someone that Tibia had given the chocolate to went missing. They were a breeding drone from one of the higher levels that Ocellus had few encounters with. She had only heard about what happened—that they had died a slow and painful death.

After that day, a minor yet irksome pain in her chest would come and go, like it was constricting around her beating heart. It would occur when she thought about the chocolate, when the guards snapped at her, when there was a sudden call for her attention, and when another one of her friends or siblings went missing. Sometimes, she would wake up to the subtlest of noises and be relieved that it wasn’t a guard coming to take her away.

Three and a half years passed, and she still thought about it constantly. The thoughts followed her like a creep waiting to make its move, and they only persisted as she worked.

“Pick up the pace!”

Pickaxe between teeth, Ocellus brought it down against the rock. The hilt slipped out from her mouth, bouncing off the rock by the tip and ricocheting upward. Ocellus knew she was in trouble when a metallic clang echoed beside her.

She didn’t want to look up. She refused to look up. The subtle pain in her chest increased a fold, but that was nothing compared to what happened next.

Her world exploded. A metallic hoof clapped against the side of her head, and she forgot about her chest. She kneeled to the ground, tears dripping down her face.

“I’m so, so sorry. I didn’t mean to do it, I was just thinking and—”

“Shut up!” The guard yelled.

Ocellus did as told, mostly out of fear that he would strike her again.

“At attention!”

She straightened.

“Open your eyes!

She didn’t realize that they were clenched shut until he mentioned them. She lifted her eyelids, staring at the guard through bleary ocelli. “I’m sorry…” she whispered through a blubbery spray of saliva. “I won’t do it again.”

“I said, shut up!” He raised his hoof, ready to strike her.

Ocellus swallowed and flinched back a little, but she remained quiet. Her chest burned.

“What were you thinking about?” he asked.

“N-nothing!”

The world revolved a million times around as his metallic hoof once more clapped her upside the head. “What were you thinking about!?”

By now Ocellus was crying so hard that she couldn’t keep her eyes open. “I was thinking about what it’d be like to go outside!”

“That’s it?” The guard asked in a stern voice, clearly pressing her for more.

“And I’m… and I’m tired and… I just can’t focus so… p-please don’t put me back in Detention. I’ll work, I promise!”

Although he had told her to stand at attention, Ocellus sat on her haunches and threw both forehooves over her chest. By now, the pain had become excruciating.

“I just didn’t get a lot of sleep last night, and I’m a little worried that Tibia might be sick, and I wanna work—I want to; I really, really want to—but I just can’t think straight, and—”

“Shut up!”

He raised his hoof to strike her once more but halted. All Ocellus could make out through her teary eyes was his silhouette readying to swipe down at her but then slowly lowering its hoof. He spoke softly, “You say you’re having trouble sleeping?”

Ocellus nodded, surprised by the sentiment in his voice. “Y-yeah. Sometimes there's a pain in my chest whenever I wake up. And I think Tibia might have some kind of fungi latching onto her. She’s been sick. Very sick. I’m worried she won’t be able to work, and…” She shuttered.

“Who is Tibia?”

“She’s my sister. We share the same nest together. She’s been having to isolate herself from the rest of the hive, though.”

The guard nodded. “Right,” he said. “Tell you what… do you know how to read?”

Ocellus blinked, wiping the tears away with her fetlock. “What?”

~•~

“I swear, it’s amazing this kingdom is still in one piece!” The guard—Edifice, he said his name was—sort of whispered-shouted.

After Ocellus told him that she could only interpret basic sentences, his anger increased tenfold. His face scrunched up in fury, and for a moment, Ocellus thought he would strike her again. Instead, he went on a tangent about Queen Chrysalis.

Ocellus was shocked. She’d heard drones talk bad about the queen before, but to hear a guard outright say, “She should be put to death for the state of the hive!” It got her to freeze up completely.

Then, he brought her to his nest. Ocellus was worried at first that she was going to Detention, but he reassured her, and she followed him at a hesitant pace.

Most nests weren’t so lovely to look at. When a drone came to be a certain age, they would be tasked with tunneling out their rooms alongside their future bunkmates. This is to fix the overpopulation issue (that, and mining for more tunnels beneath the castle, which she was tasked with doing), and most of the time the work was so amateurish that the room would be uncomfortable to simply stand in.

This nest, however… was an actual room. An old jail cell, more like, judging from the rusted cell doors. It was made of concrete. Smooth, cold concrete. There were no decorations. Most possessions aside from tools were forbidden. All most rooms had were a pair of beds and a bucket for… obvious reasons.

“Whenever my bunkmate goes out on scouting missions, he likes to smuggle in a few books,” Edifice said. He reached under his mattress and pulled out a ratty paperback. “Our education system is getting worse. You should have a complex understanding of things by now, but the queen wants to keep us all dumb. Makes us easier to brainwash that way.”

He held the book out toward her. The cover was torn-up with white wrinkles spider-webbing across, but the title was still easy to read: Changeling Theory: An Analysis on the Origin and Influence on the…, and the rest faded out.

Ocellus lowered to her haunches and took it into her own hooves. It was missing its back cover; many of the pages were stiff from water damage and yellowed. But for some reason, merely holding it was enough for the constricted feeling in her chest to recede.

“Why are you giving this to me?” she whispered. By now her eyes had dried, throat parched.

“You need something to get your mind off things, don’t you?” Edifice said. “It’s bad enough that the youth of today has to suffer because of someone’s idiocy, but that doesn’t mean I will sit by and watch. That’s for you. Keep it. Read it. Study it. Learn what a complex sentence is. Understand what it all means. Then, come back to me. I’ll have another book for you.”

Ocellus slid the paperback beneath her elytra and looked back at the changeling guard. Something about his face made him look… pissed off all the time.

Her face loosened. “So… if you care so much… why did you…” she rubbed the side of her head that still hurt.

Edifice’s expression didn’t change. “I do my job. I do what I have to to survive. Same goes for you. That’s why I’m giving you this book. Read it. It’ll distract you from your sister. And maybe you’ll wake up a little more well-rested tomorrow.”

“Well, uh, thanks,” Ocellus said, staring down at her hooves. “I’ll… I’ll check it out, yeah. And… you say you have more?”

The guard nodded. “I don’t have a whole lot. Thorax can only hide so many when he brings them in. I’m sure he’ll find a few interesting ones at the Crystal Empire, though.”

She’d hug him if he wasn’t so scary-looking. But, she still gave him a smile of appreciation. “Thank you!”

“Just read it and come to me. Tell no one you have it.” He walked up to her and shot her with a heinous glare. “Tell no one. If you are caught, you don’t know me. You don’t say where the books came from no matter what. Are we clear?”

Ocellus shook. Edifice was much bigger than her, but right now he was practically towering over her. She nodded. “Yes!”

“Good,” he said. “Now, go get back to work. I’ve used up my break talking to you.”

Ocellus left, and that night she read the book. It was full of complex sentences and words that she didn’t understand, but she liked it for that. After she finished reading the book (it only took a week but would have taken longer if half of the pages weren’t missing), she started reading it again. Eventually, she went back to Edifice for a second book, then a third book, then a fourth book. They never got well-acquainted—the guard always preferred to keep to himself—but he was always happy to oblige.

Eventually, Edifice would disappear as well. Barley three days before Thorax became their new leader.

~•~

The breeze hummed, a cold chill caressing Charcoal Glow’s face. The wind had picked up in the last hour, and while it could still be considered “gentle,” she didn’t want to risk wandering around in a snowstorm. Again. That meant they had no time to lose.

The kirin drank the rest of her broccoli cheese soup, then went back into the train station. Inside much younger and smaller-framed kirin sat at a bench on the right side of the room, slowly sipping from a paper bowl.

“Are you about done?” Charcoal asked.

Spring Heat sniffed, rubbed her stubby red nose, and nasally said, “I can’t even taste it, so yeah.”

“Nonsense, chug! You’ll need it if you want to get better soon. When you’re finished, we need to find an inn for tonight.”

Spring Heat mumbled under her breath and then reluctantly slurped the bowl’s contents down her gullet. She pulled back with a loud belch, then sat the half-empty paper bowl on the bench beside her. “Can we just wait in here for a few minutes, mom? I don’t wanna go outside yet.”

Charcoal sighed. “Five more minutes, but finish your soup fast.” She walked up to her daughter and placed a hoof on her forehead. “Yikes. You’re burning up. We’ll need to start you a bath when we get to the inn.”

“I feel fine,” Spring Heat said, scrunching up her nose in an attempt to hold back a sneeze. “My body is just trying to get acclimated to the room.”

“Yeah—no. You’re taking a bath. Besides, you’re filthy. Hey, just look at your mother in case you need a mirror. It’s been at least a week since we’ve both bathed.”

Indeed, both Charcoal and Spring’s bodies were tattered with charcoal dust and oil. They had just finished yet another roundabout trip and were finally about to make their final stop in Canterlot. However, the weather station said that a severe snowstorm was heading their way. It wasn’t much of an issue; they could just trek slowly. But honestly? Charcoal Glow was ready for a break.

She wasn’t the kirin she use to be, not like Spring Heat, who was bordering on maturity. She had minor RA of the neck that sometimes made it feel as if her head was screwed on too tight. Her grey coat was still smooth, but sometimes whenever she caught herself in the mirror, she would stop and examine her face for wrinkles.

If anything, it was a miracle that eighteen years on the job had only aged her to the state she was in now. At forty-five, Charcoal Glow was slim (if a little on the chubby side), still had some energy in reserve, and still not bedridden. Also, almost always tired.

She yawned. “Okay, let’s head out. We have to depart in six hours.”

Spring Heat groaned in her teenage you’re-such-a-buzzkill-mom sort of way and followed Charcoal, makings sure to throw her paper bowl into the trashcan by the door.

Snow crunched beneath their hooves as they made their way around the building, biting them like cold fangs. Kirins weren’t particular to snow, and in fact, made a habit to avoid it at all costs. However, they had to get to the inn somehow, and sleeping on the bench back in the train station would only hurt her back more.

They must have traveled at least ten feet when a silhouette surrounded by the amber glow of a lantern appeared in the distance. Charcoal thought nothing of it, especially when she saw one silhouette become two, three, five, and… nine?

As they stepped into the town’s boundary, it hit her: they were approaching the station. She frowned and picked up the pace.

“Hey, slow down!” Spring Heat yelled.

“Sorry, sweety,” Charcoal called back and continued onward.

Eventually, they were close enough that she realized how diverse the group was. It was a melting pot of creatures—two hippogriffs, three ponies, a griffon, a yak, a dragon, and a changeling. And some of them had luggage.

“The station is closed for the night!” she called toward them. By now she could make out the whites of their eyes. “Come back tomorrow morning!”

A pony with a lilac coat pranced ahead of the group, kicking up dust clouds of snow that were carried off by the wind. “This is an emergency! We need to use the train.”

Charcoal heard a groan behind her, and she kind of wanted to do the same thing. She halted, and her frown turned into a scowl. “Well, this better be good! I haven’t had a good night’s rest in almost a month! What is it?”

They halted in front of the group and the lilac unicorn continued, gesturing a hoof toward her entourage. “We need to transfer these six students to Canterlot this instant. It’s a life or death emergency!”

Her eyes narrowed, and she looked the group of young ones up and down, all of which looked perfectly healthy. “Life or death, huh?”

The lilac unicorn winced. “It’s… complicated.”

“Listen, I’ve been doing this job for nearly two decades. I’ve seen so much that the unusual tends to be usual for me. Go on. Tell.”

The unicorn opened her mouth to speak, but one of the hippogriffs—a talk black one with tufts of white feathers sprouting from his chest making it look as if he was wearing a tuxedo—interrupted. “That doesn’t matter.” His voice was smooth yet had just enough force behind it to sound commanding. This unsettled Charcoal a little, and she couldn’t explain why.

“What matters…” he continued.” Is that you will allow us to commandeer this train.”

Charcoal blinked, the implications of what he just said taking a moment to set in. When it hit, her scowl shifted into horrendous fury. “Now, hold it! This is my train you’re talking about!”

“It’s not your train, mom,” Spring Heat commented. “It belongs to Steel & Ironworks Industry.”

“Sweety…” Charcoal hissed through clenched teeth. “Let. Mommy. Handle this.”

Spring glanced at her mother, shuffled a little, then shifted her eyes onto her hooves. Charcoal turned back to the group. “Either tell me what’s going on or leave. I’m very tired, and if you’re attempting to steal two hundred tons of industrious steel, then I have no qualms with going nirik this instant.”

The tall hippogriff lowered to his haunches and lifted his wing, revealing a black leather satchel. Lifting its flap, he took out a folded-up paper. “By order of the monarchy, you are to allow us to commandeer this locomotive.”

Charcoal took the paper into her magic and unfolded it. With each sentence that she read, the more her contorted face unraveled into surprise. It was a royal document, signed and stamped by Princess Twilight herself. One particular sentence jumped out.

By royal decree, this document allows the assigned royal officer to commandeer any public vehicle within their reasons…

Within their reasons…

Within their reasons…

Charcoal Glow was flabbergasted. “W-what is this?”

“That,” he said calmly, pointing at the document hovering before her, “clearly states that to refuse from us from boarding the train is an obstruction of the law, and on a normal day I might be keen to let said refusal slide away. But we have time against us, and if you refuse to let us board then I will rein down as much fury on Steel & Ironworks that the Equestrian government has to offer.”

Charcoal stared up at the hippogriff in horror. The way he spoke, the way he towered over her, and the fact that he never tilted his head down when speaking to her yet it always felt like he was looking at her… every fiber of this creature was stitched together to intimidate.

“We’ll be out of your mane shortly,” he continued. “We just need to secure the cars for the students, and I’m sure I can get the hang of operating the engine fairly quickly.”

“Hold it!” Charcoal shouted. “Ain’t no one is gonna conduct my train but met! You want to board? Fine. But only I get to operate it. Got it?”

The hippogriff smirked. “Sounds like a deal.”

~•~

“Why did you bring so many sweaters?” Gallus asked, pulling a tangerine sweater from Silverstream’s backpack that read ORANGE YOU GLAD WE’RE FRIENDS?

“It’s my emotional support sweater!” Silverstream chirped, picking up the sleeve and caressing it against her face.

Gallus scowled. “But you’re already wearing your emotional support sweater.”

Actually, she was wearing two emotional support sweaters. Her I’M EGGCELLANT sweater and her MONDAYS ARE BADA$$ sweater over that one.

“Correction,” Silverstream stated poignantly. “I’m wearing three emotional support sweaters.”

She took the one that Gallus was holding and slipped it over her head, struggling to get her forelimbs to fit through the sleeves and wings through the holes. When it was on, Gallus shot her an odd look.

“Aren’t hot?”

Silverstream smirked, raising her eyebrows in mock surprise, and gasped. “Gallus! Do you really think so?”

He sighed. “You know that’s not what I meant.”

“I know! And nah, I’m actually cozy.” Sitting, she hugged herself, brushing her talons through the soft faux fleece. She looked at Gallus’s ragged green sweater and frowned. “Does that itch?”

“Kinda, yeah,” he said, scratching his shoulder.

“Ooo, I got an idea!”

Silverstream reached into her backpack and pulled out a sweater that read I LIKE MY MARE THE WAY I LIKE MY COFFEE - dark.

“We can be emotional support sweater buddies!”

Gallus sat there, staring at the sweater while scratching his neck. “Yeah, uh… cool.”

Silverstream’s smile faded into a pout. “You don’t wanna be emotional support sweater buddies?”

“No, no! It’s just, uh… will that fit me? You are kinda tall.”

“Pff, yeah it will fit you! It barely fits me!”

She plopped it over her head, and Gallus wrestled to get the sweater on. Once it was fully around his frame, he tugged at the collar. “I’m kinda hot.”

“Yeah,” Silverstream said. Adding sensuously, “You are.”

“Again, you know that’s not what I meant. But thanks.”

Silverstream zipped up her backpack and lifted it toward the luggage compartment above her seat. She halted, feeling something… wet.

She turned the backpack upside down and felt the bottom. It was damp. “Oh no!” Silverstream said. “My backpack got wet from the snow!”

Gallus leaned in to look at it. “Doesn’t look wet.”

“Well here, feel it!” She held it out toward Gallus.

He placed his talon on the bottom and felt. “Yeah, seems mostly dry. What’s the big deal?”

“What’s the big deal!?” She unzipped the backpack and removed the sweaters by the bundle. “Most of these were sent by my parents. They can’t be replaced!”

After sorting through each one and finding that they were all dry, she breathed a relaxed sigh.

“So what?” Gallus said. “They’re just sweaters.”

Silverstream clutched one to her chest and turned to the griffon. “No, Gallus, it’s the sentimental value. I can’t let anything happen to these, they’re my prized possessions!”

“So uh,” Gallus tugged at his sweater collar, giving her an awkward look. “If it’s sentimental to you, does that mean I can take this one off?”

Silverstream scoffed. “You mean you don’t like wearing it?”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s not that I don’t like wearing it… I just prefer not to.”

Silverstream blinked, staring at him with concerned eyes. “You… don’t wanna be emotional support sweater buddies?”

Gallus stared at her momentarily, then nodded. “Don’t get me wrong. It’s soft but kinda tight. It definitely wasn’t made for a guy.”

He removed the sweater and handed it back to Silverstream, who took it solemnly. “Oh… okay.”

She couldn’t explain why, but that irked her. Perhaps it was his string of behavior from the last couple of days, or perhaps it was because she was still emotional over what about Ocellus. Part of her wanted to slap the griffon outright, but she pushed that urge deep down and wondered why she ever thought it. After all, it wasn’t a very Silverstream-thing to do.

She dropped the sweater into the bundle and shoved it all into the compartment above their seat. She set her talon against the floor and heard a soft splat. Looking down, she saw that her talon was stuck in a thin puddle of water leaking from her backpack.

Picking it up, she peered inside and wondered how none of her sweaters had gotten wet. The entire thing was soaked.

~•~

Smolder inhaled more cigarette smoke, the tip of the white stick glowing. She breathed, allowing the chemical cloud to seep through the ajar window above her seat.

Gallus and Silverstream were having a conversation about something to do with sweaters in the back of the car, although she wasn’t paying attention to that. Neither was she paying attention to Sandbar and Yona’s yammering. The earth pony was throwing a barrage of words at the yak, probably because he was still a little high and in a paranoid state, but everything outside of Smolder’s world was filtered out.

There was only the coldness of the window pane her head leaned against and Ocellus in the next car ahead.

She was worried. It wasn’t a very Smolder-thing to do—being worried for somecreature’s wellbeing. Hey, most of the time she was the one trying to put her friends in danger for enthrallment’s sake! But this was different. This was life or death, and it was life or death over a very close friend.

Ocellus was in danger. Her friends were in danger. She was in danger, but that was nothing new. Her head hurt.

Smolder finished the cigarette in a single drag, then ate the butt. She chewed on it solemnly, staring out the window. The trees outside dance to the erratic behavior of the wind, throwing around gales of snow. From here, Ponyville looked like it was buried, and she worried that the tracks would be too covered for them to leave the station. She tried to press this thought down, but it lingered over her like a demented angel.

She groaned and blurted, “What’s taking so long!?”

As if on cue, the door leading to the next car burst open, and Headmare Starlight walked in. “Okay!” she said. “Sorry, everyone. We will depart shortly. Ocellus put up a fight getting on the train.”

“Where’s the tall dude?” Sandbar asked.

“He’s watching Ocellus right now. He says since none of you show signs at the moment, there’s no need to watch over you—so long as you don’t sleep. So… please don’t sleep.”

Smolder swallowed the cigarette butt. “So, can we see her or something?”

Starlight shifted her gaze toward the dragon and winced. “Hrm, well, no. Sorry. Mr. Black says that it’s best to keep you guys separated from her just to be safe. Don’t worry, though. You’ll get to see her before the operation.”

“Yeah, and what if we don’t?”

“You will,” Starlight reassured her.

Smolder procured the pack of Cherry Delights from the tattered backpack with a broken zipper beside her. She opened the pack, taking out the last cigarette inside. “How long will it be?” she said, gently blowing on the tip of the dragon-inhaler with heated breath.

“Canterlot is usually an hour and a half by train, but with the snow, I’d have to guess… four hours?”

Smolder nearly choked on the freshly-lit cigarette as she sucked it into her mouth, sputtering. She didn’t want it to go to waste, so she swallowed it. Standing, she slammed her fists against the head of the seat in front of her. “How the fuck are we supposed to save her if every minute matters? Do you even know what you’re doing?”

Starlight flinched back, her face wrinkling in concern. “No, Smolder. I don’t. I’m just doing everything I can.”

Smolder jabbed a claw in the unicorn’s direction. “You knew about this way before any of us, didn’t you? The school was on lockdown after Lemongrass’s murder. You knew there was something wrong and didn’t do anything to stop it!”

“Smolder, I—”

“Did you think there was something wrong with Ocellus before all of this shit went down?”

“Hey Smolder,” Sandbar said. “Chill…”

She turned to the pony and said, “Fuck off sea green!”

Starlight scoffed, “Smolder!”

“You could have prevented all this, huh?”

Starlight froze for a moment but then nodded slowly. “I… well, I was hanging out in one of the classrooms because I wanted to escape my office. So many officers and Royal Guards were coming in and out, and… I wanted to get out of there for a bit. And, well, she came into the classroom… touched my hoof, and in an instant, she knew that Lemongrass was dead.

“I’m sorry,” she whimpered. “I’m sorry. We would probably be in Canterlot by now if I had done something the moment I suspected her. I’m sorry, Smolder. I can only hope everything turns out okay.”

Smolder groaned and rolled her eyes. She fold her arms and plopped back down against her seat. “Whatever… sorry I snapped.”

Starlight shifted her attention back to the room, all eyes on her. “Is everyone settled in? There’s no turning back now.”

No response.

“Okay,” she continued. “Just remember to not sleep, and everything will be okay.”

“Uh,” Gallus waved at her. “What are we supposed to do in the meantime? Four hours and no sleep is a whole lot of nothing.”

Starlight nodded. “Right, uh… I’ll check with Charcoal to see if she has anything for you guys. If not, I’m sure you can make up a few games to pass the time.”

The headmare left, slamming the door to the next car behind her. Smolder felt a little bad for lashing out like that, but at the same time, she was just so antsy. She had been feeling antsy since they left the school, and that only made her crave the soothing effects of tobacco even more.

She reached into her backpack and rummaged around for another pack of Cherry Delights. Her claw brushed against something hard.

Weird, Smolder thought. I thought I packed light.

She pulled out a strange-looking rock. It was green and could almost be considered see-through if the inside of it wasn’t so cloudy.

“The fuck is this?” Smolder whispered. She nibbled on it and nearly barfed.

Blegh, why did I bring that?

~•~

Starlight had regrets. As a headmare, she regretted failing Lemongrass. As a witness, she regretted not being able to save Skeedaddle. As a mare, she regretted everything she ever did before moving to Ponyville; and, in a few cases, some things that happened between the time she moved here and the moment she became in charge of a school.

It was all in the past, but it lingered over her like a knife ready to come down at any moment and stab her with every bad memory she had of herself. She felt like she was in a state where time, the broken puzzle that it is, fixated into a pattern where the worst of her worst was immediate. And there was no changing that.

Sometimes, she felt as if she could turn back time. There was a spell that could do that, yes—she expanded upon such spell—but she felt as if it could be done on a mere whim, conveniently when the worst possible thing to happen has happened. Then, the trauma of the moment would fade away, and she’d be strung back into reality; where time had control of her.

She could not control time. She could not fix her past mistakes. She could not control this current predicament. Perhaps, however, she could fix it.

She transferred to the next train car, where Mr. Black, Ocellus, and Trixie were waiting. Ocellus looked peaceful with how she was curled up into a little ball in the passenger’s seat up front and sleeping. Mr. Black sat on the other side of the car across from her, seeming to mind his own business by reading a book, although Starlight was sure that he was keeping a close eye on the changeling.

Starlight walked up beside him, making sure to at least get into the corner of his vision so to at least not to startle him, although she didn’t think that would happen either way. “Has she put up any more of a fuss?”

“She called me a few hippogriff slurs, but that’s about it,” he said. “After that, she passed out. My guess is to recharge.” Turning his head to Starlight, “That means Ocellus, your student, will be back shortly. Don’t get too excited, though. Considering her mental state, that means the spirit residing in her can take over even while she’s conscious.”

Starlight looked over at the changeling peacefully curled up into a little ball. “This is my fault. I should have done something the moment I suspected her.”

“You should have,” Mr. Black stated.

Okay, ouch. Starlight thought.

“But the last few days have rendered you somewhat hysterical, and the spirit resides within you. If anything, I’m surprised it hasn’t initiated a full takeover yet.” Supposedly seeing the hurt look on her face, he added, “I know you feel like you’re at fault here. You’re not. This is something outside your realm of comprehension. I’m guessing you feel like you’re inherently responsible for the death of Lemongrass since you are the headmare?”

Starlight nodded slowly.

“And I’m guessing that since you came in such proximity to the killer you feel that you are responsible for Skeedaddle?”

Again, she nodded slowly?”

“And the same for the five students sitting in the car behind this one?”

Frustrated with the twenty-question game, Starlight asked, “Where are you going with all of this?”

“It’s as I said, this is something outside your realm of comprehension, so don’t feel as if you could have done something to stop it. You couldn’t have. Simply knowing that still probably doesn't help. If anything, it’s good because it shows that you’re empathetic. But empathy, in this case, will drag you down. Bury those emotions. Refuse them. If you don’t, you’re only putting yourself in danger by allowing the spirit to take advantage of your mental state.”

Finished, he turned his head back down toward his book. Starlight stood there in silence, trying to think up a response. Nothing came.

She lifted a hoof, ready to make her way to the engine when she heard a stirring behind her. It was Ocellus, rousing from her sleep. The changeling let out a soft groan and stretched, then sat up with a yawn.

For a moment, Starlight thought that she was going to let loose another barrage of insults. But when she blinked her groggy eyes open and stared up at her, she said, “W-what’s going on? Where am I?”

She sounded calm, but Starlight was sure that if she hadn’t just woken up she’d have had a much stronger reaction. The unicorn swallowed, unsure of how to explain everything.

“Oh good,” Mr. Black said. The sound of a book slamming shut banged behind her. He got out of his seat, arrived to the changeling, and removed his sunglasses so that his blue iris were exposed. He placed the pair down on the headrest and knelt at eye level with Ocellus. “I need you to tell me what you remember.”

Ocellus’s forehead wrinkled in thought. “Who are you?”

“I’m the one that stopped you from killing all of your friends. You would have succeeded if I hadn’t come in. Now tell me, what do you remember?”

“I remember watching a movie and… excuse me, I tried to kill all of my friends?”

He nodded. “Ocellus, my name is Mr. Black. All you need to know about me is that I’m an agent of the law. I have been investigating the murder of two ponies right here in Ponyville. I want you to look me in the eyes.”

Ocellus did as told, her ocelli wide with concern.

“Ocellus,” he continued. “You were the creature who killed those two ponies.”

Concern shifted into confused terror. “W-what!?” she shouted. “I would never—how—” It seemed to hit her that something was blocking her magic as she threw a hoof up to her horn and felt the magic inhibitor. The changeling’s breathing quickened.

“How… what… what’s going on? I didn’t kill anyone, I promise!” Tears streamed down her face, every exhale followed by an airy whistle. “I swear! Please don’t send me back to Detention, I—”

“Calm down,” Mr. Black said, placing a talon on the changeling's shoulder in an attempt to soothe her. It was the most amount of care Starlight had witnessed from the hippogriff since they first met. “It’s not you; not exactly. You’re in trouble, but not with the law. Be aware that you’re in good hands. That said, it’s important that you know there’s a spirit possessing you. We are going to extract it.”

The airy whistling of Ocellus’s breathing died down, and she stared at Mr. Black no longer with confused terror, but just confusion. “Possessed?”

“It might be hard to believe, I know, but tell me this: have you been tired the last few days?”

She nodded slowly.

“Have you experienced any sudden flashbacks to events you don’t recall or lucid dreams in the last few days?”

Again, she nodded slowly. “Yeah…” The realization of what he was saying seeped in, as her entire body shook violently. “There’s a… there’s a… Starlight!” She stared up at the headmare with glazed eyes, voice shaky. “What’s going on?”

“We’re getting you somewhere safe,” Starlight said, trying her best to sound comforting. “I’m possessed too.” She was going to say something along the lines of “But not as bad as you are” but thought better of it. “Our conditions are just about the same, and I’ve been pulling through for this long. I’m sure you will be okay as well, so long as you don’t sleep.”

I hope, Starlight thought. How long had Ocellus been possessed? She understood that the changeling’s mental health tended to fluctuate—that she understood from their countless sessions when she was still the school counselor. And, if what Trixie said was true, it hadn’t changed by much. The death of Lemongrass had probably only worsened her mental state.

“Where are my friends?” Ocellus asked. “I want to see them!”

“We have to keep you isolated,” Mr. Black said. “If we don’t, they too may be corrupted. There’s a good chance one of them may already be, but their condition isn’t as bad as yours and won’t need careful eyes watching their every move. Now tell me…”

He leaned in, staring into the changeling’s ocelli with pure focus. “These dreams you’ve been having. Have you encountered anyone in them?”

Ocellus pulled her head back, clearly taken aback by how close the hippogriff’s face was to hers. “I… don’t know… I don’t know what you want.”

“We need an idea of who this spirit is. If you haven’t met them directly in any dreams, they could still be plunging your mind with night terrors. If you can describe everything you imagined, that may help us figure out their way of thinking.”

“Does… does Queen Tiran mean anything?”

The train car crackled from the sheer force of the wind, and Starlight could have sworn that a cold draft had seeped into the room.

Mr. Black frowned. “Queen Tiran?”

“I think, I think it was in the dream I just woke up from. I don’t remember any of the details, but I remember Queen Tiran. I don’t know how.”

He glanced up at Starlight, who only stared back in befuddlement.

“Queen Tiran…” he mumbled. “Thank you, Ocellus. If you can recall anything else, let me know immediately. For now, I’ll give you a bit to collect your thoughts. I can imagine that this is a lot for you to take in.”

He stood up, put his sunglasses back on, and moved to the other side of the car.

The changeling never looked up at Starlight. Instead, she stared down at the floor, clearly lost in the chamber of her thoughts. She considered saying something, anything, but realized there was nothing else to be said. All she could do was wait for Ocellus to come out of her anguish coma.

She had begun making her way towards the engine car when a harsh whisper called for her. “Headmare Starlight…”

Starlight swiveled back to Ocellus, tears pouring down the changeling’s face. “Did I—” she choked. “Did I kill Lemongrass?”

Starlight regarded her for a moment. Didn’t nod, she didn’t speak. She simply let her silence provide the answer. It was enough to make Ocellus whimper.

Chapter 12 - Railway Signs

White specks of snow fell from a black sky, the whistling wind sweeping the fine powder over tracks as if casting a mist. From the train, the lights of Ponyville could be seen. Few in number, but what was there beckoned them to come back and relish in the safety of their own homes.

A strange calmness could be felt. A macabre calmness. The sort of calmness where staying still felt like the best possible option, even if it would help no one.

In the middle of calmness, a loud hiss pierced the night.

SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

Steam shot out of the locomotive in thick plumes that were quickly swept away. The ditch light flicked on, a long yellow beam casting along the tracks. Through the elements, through the night, and through the light haze of steam, the train appeared as an interdimensional being.

SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

From her seat next to the window, Starlight watched steam and snow drift by, her mind racing to every corner of worry. She braced herself for that inevitable lurch forward. She didn’t realize it back at the school, and she didn’t realize it upon boarding, but as soon as she heard that hiss, the thought finally crossed her mind.

This is seriously happening.

SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

From the front of the same car, Trixie’s eyes shifted between Ocellus and Mr. Black. Ocellus, because she was still confused as to how one of the most harmless students that she had the privilege of counseling suddenly had an evil entity residing within her and had murdered a classmate. Mr. Black, because he had seemingly arrived out of nowhere, and now she was on a train fixing to depart for Canterlot.

It was starting to feel as if Trixie would always find a way to get tied into everything Starlight did.

She continued flipping through her craft book, playing with ideas that only infuriated her more and more.

SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

Smolder held the strange rock up toward the sconce hovering over her seat and examined it closely. Its surface glistened, almost see-through upon close inspection. She could make out the faint silhouette of her claw from the other side, the only obstruction being a strange cloudy resin on the inside.

Suddenly, a thought echoed in her head. Smolder didn’t know why she thought it, but it was the sort of thought that came without question. An intuition. That intuition was to heat the rock up and see what happens.

She brought it up to her mouth, faint tendrils of smoke funneling from her snout, and she allowed a small tongue of flames to lick its surface. Immediately, the dark green became more of a dull lime green, and the rock emitted a strange hum.

More, her thoughts beckoned.

The small tongue narrowed into a jet. The rock brightened, and she noticed how wispy webs of ethereal matter swirled around the inside.

You know what to do next.

It was an intuition followed by another intuition. That intuition was to throw it against the floor to see what would happen. But then a third intuition replaced that. An intuition that felt more natural than the last. That intuition was to lick it again.

“Nope, still tastes like shit.”

SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

The hissing stopped. The wind carried away the tufts of thick vapor surrounding the locomotive. For only a moment longer, it remained idle.

The wheel's pistons lifted upward.

Clack… Clack… Clack…

Silverstream nearly jolted out of her seat when the train lurched forward, her feathers standing on end. Realizing that they were only moving, she calmed down and leaned back into the cushions.

I hope Ocellus is okay… she thought.

Something cold splattered against her beak and she looked up. From the overhead compartment above, water dripped.

Drip-drip… Drip-drip… Drip-drip…

“Coffee’s ready,” Charcoal said.

Spring Heat crawled out of the firebox, covered in flames, and hovered the coffee pot towards her. Tilting her head back, she chugged it so that brown rivulets of the holy liquid trailed down her chin, dripping onto the floor.

After thirty seconds—record time, Charcoal liked to keep count—Spring Heat pulled the pot away from her lips and wiped them with the back of her hoof.

Floating the pot back toward the coffee maker, she couldn’t help but notice her mom giggling. “What?” she bit.

“Nothing,” Charcoal said. “Just, I think you can survive without that much caffeine.”

Spring Heat slowly shook her head before crawling back into the firebox. “It’s my life’s blood, mom.”

With the added pep, the kirin erupted into a ball of fire, giving the train its own kind of pep.

Clack-clack Clack-clack Clack-clack

Sandbar felt the vibrations of the train trail through him. A warm, buzzy feeling danced throughout his head, every noise around him suddenly louder by tenfold. Yona crunching potato chips beside him—almost metallic—Smolder scratching her head while examining a weird rock, the clacking the wheels as they went clack-clack clack-clack clack-clack.

His whole body shook, head whipping around at every little noise. Staying still was an entirely absent concept.

“I have to go to the bathroom,” he blurted.

“Okay,” Yona replied.

He regretted standing almost immediately. It felt as if ten-ton weights held his hooves to the ground. Trudging slowly down the aisle, he was sure that if he didn’t watch his every step, the momentum of the train would fling him face-first into the floor.

Every step was a baby step, and this garnered an odd look from Gallus as he was passing by. “Hey Sandbar,” he said. The pony jerked his head in the griffon’s direction. “You good?”

“I had too many marshmallow twizzlers.”

“Ah, too much sugar.”

“Too much good stuff.”

Gallus looked surprised for a moment, then laughed. “Dude, try not to throw up if you get motion sickness. It might tip you off to Headmare Starlight.”

“I’ll try not to, thanks.”

Barging into the restroom, the first thing he did was throw the toilet lid up and allowed the contents of his stomach to flow out like a broken spigot. His head hovered over the bowl as he waited for more to come out. More did. Repeat. After a few minutes, he sat next to the bowl with bile oozing down his chin.

His scratchy throat yearned for the splash of water against its palette. His stomach felt queasy, and he wanted to do nothing more than to go back to his dorm and sleep off the high.

A heavy wave washed over him, and he slumped back against the wall, resting his head against the septic tank. He groaned and shut his eyes, hoping that a small nap would help him feel better.

And it did. His entire body entered a state of bliss as the queasy feeling went away, and he forgot all about the scratch in his throat. The clacking of the train’s wheels sounded both close and far away—like there was an in-between state where the sound was present, but he was so far gone into his own head that they became another sound altogether. Something more soothing. This, accompanied by the vibrations, made him feel more relaxed as he drifted off…

There was a bang at the door.

Sandbar jolted, practically flying onto his hooves, heart ready to explode.

“Yeah?” he said, hoping the nervous quiver in his voice wasn’t that noticeable.

No response.

“Hello?”

No response again.

Opening the door, Sandbar peered outside the restroom. Everyone was at the front of the car, minding their own business.

I’m hallucinating… he thought as he shut the door. Okay, okay, breathe… that’s normal. Calm down Sandbar, you’re not possessed. You just had enough weed to tranquilize Yona. You’ve had this much before, you know what it entails.

But the paranoid feeling didn’t leave. It stayed like an intruder in search of something. In this case, a reason. A reason to stay sane. Sandbar racked his brain, coming up with every excuse, every explanation he could think of to calm himself down.

Through the walls of the restroom, he could hear voices. Voices without distinction. Typical auditory hallucination voices.

It’s just the weed… he thought.

He listened to the clacking of wheels, using them as a metronome to clear his head.

Clack-clack Clack-clack Clack-clack

Ponyville slowly faded away into obscurity. The world around Starlight became a passing glimpse, every tree and railway sign a blur. Her mind was on one thing and one thing only: whatever they were going to do when they got to Canterlot.

What were they going to do? Mr. Black said that there was a device that could cleanse the spirit from them, but her knowledge of the hippogriff was so vague that she wasn’t sure if she could even trust that notion. She tried to convince herself that he was one-hundred percent confident that it would work, and the fact that he sounded confident reinforced that sentiment. Still, something irked Starlight’s mind. It was a little voice that whispered sweet lies and bad omens to come.

Wanting to busy her mind with something else, Starlight looked around the car. Trixie sat on the bench opposite her, wearing her glasses and scribbling something into her craft book with a pencil. Turning around, she spotted Ocellus staring solemnly out the window.

She wanted to hug the changeling, although instinctually she knew it’d be safe to remain distant. Starlight didn’t want to be anywhere near biting range if Ocellus’s personality suddenly shifted again.

She opened her mouth, ready to ask, “How are you doing?” but then realized how dumb a question that was.

Instead, her gaze carried over to Mr. Black, who was sitting in the back of the car reading a hardback. Getting up, she walked over to him.

“What are you reading?” she asked the hippogriff.

Mr. Black didn’t respond right away, as if he was finishing a paragraph. After a few admittedly uncomfortable seconds, he responded, “Are you bored already?”

Starlight flinched. “Uhh…”

He chuckled and closed the book, sitting it beside him and looking down at her. “It’s alright. I should have warned you to bring some reading material. Why don’t you sit?”

Mr. Black’s generosity caught her off-guard, but she kept her tongue. They had only just met, and she didn’t know much about him, but this sudden openness was something she couldn’t comprehend. She sat beside him, glancing down at the book’s cover.

Changeling Theory: An Analysis on the Origin and Influence of the Equestrian Changeling.

“That title is a mouthful,” she said. Well, it was no different from the pretentious titles of many other books she’d read, but all conversations had to start somewhere.

“Maybe, but methinks it’s a good read. I snagged it from the library when your librarian wasn’t looking.” After seeing the frown appear on Starlight’s face, he added, “ I’ll happily pay the full price of the book;, I just needed it for some research.”

Starlight raised a brow. “What kind of research?”

“While Ocellus was on my list of suspects, she was not whom I expected to catch. Still, I didn’t rule her out, and that’s because of this book. Tell me, how familiar are you with changeling history?”

“It’s not really something I’ve dabbled in.”

“You should. It’s embedded into Equestria’s own history, plagued by wars and corrupt kings and queens. Thorax’s hive might be the first in generations to have a monarch as generous as him. However, it runs deeper than just corruption. I’m talking about diet.”

Starlight frowned quizzically. “What do you mean?”

“Some hives partook in carnivorism. Not all, but many thought it more… fulfilling. Do you understand what I mean?”

She shook her head. “No.”

“A changeling can eat food, but that merely gives it energy for the day, and maybe heightens its receptors. It can feed off the emotions of those around them, which powers their magic, and they can convert that magic into energy for their bodies. However, the ability to create nourishment for themselves leaves them weak, thus they’re limited in what they’re capable of. Truly, the changeling is a unique specimen. It can last a lifetime without proper food just by relying on the companionship of others. Now, what if I were to tell you that the changeling derives more energy by eating certain parts of the body? Certain parts where thoughts and memory are located. Certain parts filled with complex emotion; a driving force we can’t live without?”

“The brain?” Starlight said.

Mr. Black nodded, tapping a talon against the book’s cover. “I remember reading Changeling Theory back in university. It covers the basics of changeling history and why it’s relevant to the ideas present within. Some of it I would say is… rambly. But it makes sense when you consider that Aster Blackwillow was a schizophrenic trying to convince himself he wasn’t crazy. These are the lucid ramblings of someone mad.”

Starlight hovered the book in front of her and carefully flipped through the stale, yellowed pages. “It’s very dense. Is it a good read?”

“Very. It’s actually what embedded the idea that young Ocellus could be on the list of killers. However, that was mainly because it jogged my memory. To tell you the honest truth, I picked it up just so I could read it again. The prose is dry, difficult to sift through at times. Even I have to stop to reread a paragraph on occasion just to comprehend the thoughts being conveyed.” He smiled down at her. “I’ll lend it to you if you like.”

Starlight looked at the stamp that read Property of SoF and dryly said, “Gee, glad I have permission to borrow a stolen book.” She closed the book and placed it back on the seat between them. “But I think I’ll pass. I don’t think I can read anything right now, not with everything that’s happening.”

Mr. Blacked tsked. “Such shame. I think it’s a required read. I personally relate to the themes present.”

“Which are?”

“Tell me, Starlight, have you ever reached a point in your life where you no longer felt like the same person you were before?”

She thought about it. There were several instances, the catalyst of it all being when Sunburst got his cutie mark. However, she was still a child at that time. Mr. Black’s question clearly ran deeper than that. At some point between childhood and adulthood, Starlight lost a part of herself. A part of herself that she couldn’t remember. It had an innocent connotation. It’s what kept all of her dreams and ambitions in check. It was what kept her motivated every day. Then, well… then she grew out of it. Now, she was the headmare of a school. A fine job that she enjoyed, but it wasn’t what she wanted to be. She wanted to be an important political figure. That dream was thwarted when she realized how childish her views were… but she couldn’t help but daydream about it sometimes.

Dreams fade away. Priorities take over passions. Responsibility becomes a struggle.

These were things that Starlight understood—but trying to put them into perspective? Her mouth hung open, the words ready to drip from her tongue. But the moment they did, all comprehension of herself balled up and rolled out in the form of, “Yeah, I suppose so… I can’t place when that happened, exactly, but I know what you’re talking about.”

Mr. Black’s smile shifted into a playful smirk. “Then, you’re a changeling.”

Starlight looked up at the hippogriff, her face a mixture of befuddled and bemused, and let out a pathetic, “Ha ha.”

“In the metaphorical sense, of course. Aster used that as an analogy to describe the change in his life. The stages of his progression. The trauma. The faults. The choices that led him to who he was by the end of his life. Until he was so distinguishable from his childhood self that he might as well have been switched with a changeling at birth. That’s Changeling Theory.”

Starlight stared up at the hippogriff, trying to comprehend everything he just said. It was a feeling Starlight had been sitting on for a while. At what point did everything go wrong—if even that’s what can be said? Was she always meant to walk a perpetual cycle of opening the future for students that would more than likely follow her path of routine day after day, never truly understanding what goals they should be aiming for to keep everything together?

“You said you have experience in psychology?” Starlight asked.

“Criminal psychology, mostly, albeit I dabble in other areas here and there. Have something you need to get off your chest?”

Part of Starlight wanted to tell Mr. Black everything. Not just the stuff now, but everything in general. How she arrived at school day by day, fulfilling the same routine of meetings and planning future events for the students. She thought about how much she’d like to quit on the spot and find a job elsewhere and how the only thing stopping her was simply knowing it wasn’t the right thing to do.

When she opened her mouth, at first, nothing came out. Everything she wanted to talk about suddenly vanished, obscured into the deepest trenches of her memories. But something had to be said, so she started with what felt most natural. “The night all of this started, I had to get a lot of important work done,” she started. “Before I started working, I took a nap and had a weird dream. I got out of bed to start my day. Nothing out of the ordinary happened until I made it into the school. The first thing I noticed was that none of the students had any faces, yet the hallways were full of chatter. Usually, the talking in the halls are loud, and I sometimes have to yell for the students to quiet down, but here it sounded like a distant echo. I carried on with my day as if nothing was out of the ordinary. Trixie came in at one point to deliver some papers. She also didn’t have a face, but she could still speak. It was echoey and mumbled-up, but she left shortly after. The weirdest part of the dream was that I’d age every minute or so. The corners of my office grew cotton webs. The top of my desk was coated in a thick layer of dust. I went on throughout the day, the students gradually becoming unfamiliar, as if they were stand-ins for the old ones. Yet I still worked.”

For a moment, Mr. Black didn’t say anything, and all that could be heard throughout the car was the clacking of wheels. Finally, he said, “You don’t need advice. At least, not from me. You need a therapist. What you have going on is long-term. Sorry, I can’t help with that.”

She gave a pathetic chuckle. “Well, it was worth a shot, I guess. Thanks.”

“Any time.”

Starlight looked over at Ocellus to see how she was doing. The changeling stared longingly out the window, watching the passing silhouettes of trees. She sighed and made her way over, sitting next to her. Mr. Black hummed something quietly, a clear indication that that wasn’t such a great idea, but she didn’t want the poor creature to feel alone.

“Headmare Starlight,” Ocellus asked in a trembling whisper without taking her face away from the window. “Is everything going to be okay?”

Starlight responded simply by placing a hoof on her back and saying, “Yes, Ocellus. Yes, it is.”

Yet she wasn’t sure.

Thoughts continued to invade her. The clacking continued.

Clack-clack Clack-clack Clack-clack

Silverstream’s talons tapped against the metal frame of the seat in front of her, the rhythm the only thing keeping her at ease. She had moved back one seat and watched as water dripped from the overhead compartment, onto the cushions.

“Checkmate again!” Yona chirped.

Silverstream jerked her head toward the yak and Gallus playing a game of chess in the middle of the aisle. The griffon frowned, and she provided him with a mocking smile.

He picked up the board carefully and examined it closely in search of signs of tampering. “Four times in a row, how is that possible?”

With a clever smile, Yona modestly ran a hoof through the fur on her chest. “Yona thought Gallus go easy at first, but Yona put it together that bird just stupid.”

Gallus brought both talons up and air-choked her. Seeming to realize how big her neck was, he held them wider apart.

Silverstream rested her chin against the back of the chair, continuing to watch the water drip onto the seat. At the back of the car, she could hear a door being opened.

Sandbar walked by, looking pale and wobbly. She lifted her head and said, “Sandbar, are you okay?”

The pony turned to her. “Y-yeah… I’m just not good with trains, I guess.”

Gallus groaned, putting down the chessboard. “Did you puke your brains out?”

Sandbar nodded at him sheepishly. “I’m feeling better, I promise! I just need a nap.”

Silverstream gently placed a talon on his shoulder. “We’re not supposed to sleep, remember?”

He sighed. “Oh, that’s right.”

“You see, this is why you make sure you can handle your weed,” Gallus said. “I had some too and I feel fine. A little hyperaware, but fine.”

The pony scowled. “I had way more than you.”

“Pff, couldn’t have been that much.”

“I had three marshmallow twizzlers.”

Gallus scratched his head. “I sometimes forget you like to go hard.”

“I think I just need some milk.”

“If you want, I can go to the kitchen car and find you some?”

Sandbar rolled his eyes. “Whatever, dude. You just want to steal a bunch of food.”

“HEY, I’m high too! Only a little bit, but I still have the munchies, and I’m starving. Do you want me to starve?”

“Why do you need to go to the kitchen car for milk? That’s what Yona’s for,” Smolder said, who wasn’t in the conversation but still close enough to hear every word.

“Shut the fuck up, Smolder!” Sandbar bit. Yona giggled.

Gallus began making his way toward the back of the car, but Silverstream brushed her talon through his wing just as he was walking by. “Can you get me some paper towels while you’re there?”

Gallus quirked a brow. “You’re not seriously still on that, are you?”

“Well look!” she pointed at the dark blotch on the cushion of the seat in front of her. “It’s leaking! I think some snow got in my bag and melted!”

He glanced over at the seat and then back at her. “It looks okay to me.”

“No—well, let’s have a look.”

She got up and stood on the wet seat, reaching for the overhead compartment. Placing her talon on the knob, she slid the compartment door open and jerked back.

Water poured out. Not leaked, poured. It came down in rivulets, a puddle already forming and rapidly expanding on the floorboards.

“Everything good?” Gallus asked.

A fish thumped against her chest and fell onto the seat. She whelped.

Now, all eyes were on her, the hippogriff backing away from the puddle.

This time, a little bit of concern seeped into Gallus’s voice. “Silverstream?”

Another fish flopped out, bouncing off its writhing comrade and hitting the floor, scurrying her way. Silverstream fell into the seat behind her, pulling her rear legs up.

The bag fell out next, landing on the seat. It bulged as if something was trying to tear its way out.

“Get Starlight!” she screamed, throwing both talons to either side of her head. “Go get Headmare Starlight!”

Gallus stood there for a moment, watching her in confusion. Realization dawned on him, and he ran for the door.

The bag landed on the seat and fell to the floor with a hard thump. The feathers along the back of Silverstream’s neck stood out as cold water splashed against her hooves, and she pulled them up over the seat; pressing her back against the window pane.

The bag squirmed in place, sloshing around in the puddle, the puddle soaking through the floorboards and carpeted floor.

“Please stop…” she was saying, grasping tufts of feathers along her head. “Please stop… please stop… please stop…”

“Silverstream!” someone screamed.

Her head bolted upward, eyes wide with hope to see someone familiar. Her heart stopped. Breathing no longer felt like second nature. A weird, buzzy feeling rose up in her chest.

She was no longer on the train.

Slowly, she lowered a talon and brushed it through coarse sand, lifting and watching as it poured between her claws. The sky bled a red of the most otherworldly kind, the sun in the distant horizon like an explosion, its death beam cutting across an ocean of deep crimson.

Directly ahead of her, the silhouette of a short hippogriff stood.

“Silverstream!” a voice echoed across the beach, reverberating across the barren landscape as if she were in a cave. It was followed by the distant screaming of a crowd that gradually quieted.

“Where are you!?” it screamed again.

Sliverstream stood immediately, realizing what the voice was.

“Mom?” she called.

The sound of an explosion. More screaming crowds. Glass shattering. Crying.

She approached the silhouette slowly, the chaotic cacophony coming more into focus as she did.

Another explosion. More screaming. Someone calling her name. Violent sobbing.

The silhouette turned, and Silverstream halted. Green irises stared back at her. The cacophony cut out, replaced by the wind’s raspy breath.

“Hi!” Silverstream said. Only, it wasn’t her voice. Only, it was, but squickier. “I’m Silverstream! What’s your name?”

The silhouette blinked at her.

“That’s a great name!” she chirped. “Listen, our volleyball bounced somewhere over these rocks. Have you seen them?”

There were no rocks in sight.

The silhouette blinked.

“Tell you what, if you help me find it, you can play too! How does that sound?”

The wind rasped.

The ocean stilled.

The silhouette’s head fell off.

Silverstream screamed. It was both her own and not her own. It was also the horrible cacophony of the crowd. Images flashed before her. The beach glossy with blood. Burnt corpses laying everywhere, many still giving off a red glow. Others fell out of the sky, some impaled, some appearing as a flaming blossom. The one distinctive quality they all shared is they hit the ground with a loud, bone-crackling splat.

Buildings collapsed before her. Airships raided the sky. Fireballs arced through the air.

She fell into the sand, thrashing, kicking up waves. The fine grains getting between her feathers. The taste of copper fresh in her mouth. Bodies falling over her. Nudging. Someone nudging hard. A voice calling, sounding as another distant echo.

SILVERSTREAM!

It sounded across the beach as if it was a noise all on its own.

SILVERSTREAM!

Sirens. Her mother’s voice calling. The bubbly sound of someone’s dying scream.

SILVERSTREAM!

“...snap out of it!” Smolder screamed.

Both claws on either shoulder, she shook the hippogriff gently. Silverstream stopped wailing and blinked. Her eyes were red, but recognition dawned in them. She stared at Smolder, beak agape, placing a talon on her friend’s wrist. “Smolder?”

“The fuck happened?”

“I-I don’t know,” Silverstream stuttered. “I don’t know.” She leaned to the side, trying to look past Smolder as if to inspect something on the ground. She breathed a sigh of relief. “I think it passed over.”

“Was it a hallucination?”

Silverstream nodded. “I think so.”

“Hallucination, you say?” Mr. Black’s voice called. Smolder turned to see him standing at the other end of the car, Gallus and Headmare Starlight tailing him. “What did you see?”

Silverstream opened her beak, hesitated, and said, “I was on a beach. There were a bunch of weird noises, then…” She shivered. “Do I have to talk about it?”

“No. You don’t. But you need to come with me. You’re even more at risk of coming to full possession. I’d like to keep a close eye on you in case another hallucination occurs so that I can make she you don’t cause any harm to yourself or others. In fact…” He scanned the car. “All of you, come with me. I’ve decided it’s too dangerous to leave you all alone. Grab whatever you want to bring, and we’ll go to the next car.”

Smolder turned back to Silverstream. “You gonna be okay?”

The hippogriff whimpered but nodded slowly.

“Good. Want me to grab your bag?”

Her eyes widened. “No!” she shouted.

Smolder jerked her head back in surprise, some of the other students including Starlight doing the same.

“No,” she said calmly this time. “Thank you.”

“Well, okay.”

Smolder went back to her seat to gather her things. She was stuffing the strange rock back into her backpack when there suddenly came a whispering. It wasn’t in just one place—it was throughout the cart. Like a dozen or so creatures were quietly talking over her. Occasionally, a sentence would break through the barricade of words and make themselves apparent.

“It’s under Canterlot.”

“Keep digging the tunnels.”

“Throw it to the ground.”

“It’s under Ponyville.”

“Keep digging the tunnels.”

“Throw it to the ground.”

Smolder zipped the backpack shut, and the whispering stopped.

Clack-clack Clack-clack Clack-clack

“Just breathe, Silverstream,” Starlight said, patting the quivering hippogriff on the back.

Silverstream swallowed a great gulp of air, then let it all out. She did it again, and again, and again. The feeling of terror still remained. Her heart still hammered in her chest, and the feathers on her face were still damp with adrenaline’s sweat.

“Star… Starlight…” she managed to croak out. “Am I going to die?”

“Of course not, Silverstream.”

“Am I going to get possessed like Ocellus?”

“You won’t get possessed, no. At least, I don’t think you will. Mr. Black seems very confident, so I am too.”

Silverstream rubbed her talons together. “But what if he’s wrong?”

“I’m sure he’s not. He hasn’t shown any doubt so far. If you’d like, you can talk to him yourself. Will that make you feel better?”

Silverstream wasn’t sure. For one, it’d be relieving to hear some uplifting news from someone who knew what was going on; but then again, Mr. Black was a complete stranger.

She gulped, tongue feeling dry in her mouth, and rubbed her eye. “I want to talk to Ocellus.”

Starlight hesitated. “I’m sorry, but—”

“Please,” Silverstream begged. She took hold of Starlight’s hoof and cupped her other talon over it. “Please, I want to talk to her. I want to know if it’s not as bad as I think it is.”

Starlight stared at her for a long moment, then glanced over at Mr. Black sitting a few rows behind them. “Well?” she said.

Mr. Black got out of his seat and walked over to where the two were sitting. It was only now that Silverstream realized how towering he was compared to her.

“You’ll sit behind her. Not next to her. And I will be sitting directly across from the two of you the entire time.”

Silverstream nodded, got up, and followed him.

Ocellus was resting her head against the window, watching the cascading snow and faint silhouettes of passing trees when Silverstream sat down. Almost immediately, the changeling’s head perked up, and she peaked behind her to see who it was.

“Silverstream!” she chirped the moment she saw her friend.

She twisted in her seat and placed her forehooves on the brim. Silverstream did the same, placing her talons over her hooves.

“I missed you!” the hippogriff nearly shouted.

Ocellus giggled. “It’s only been a couple of hours.”

“And the longest couple of hours of my life! Do you know how hard it is waiting for things to die down when you know your friend is possessed by a ravenous spirit that tried to murder us not that long ago? It’s pretty hard!”

Ocellus rubbed the back of her head nervously. “Sorry about that. I don’t know what came over me.”

Silverstream waved her off. “Oh, psh! It’s all good, fam. I just want you to get better.”

“Aww, thank you!”

“No problem!”

The two grew silent, their smiles remaining, but Silverstream felt like they were a facade. She wanted to tell Ocellus everything right there. She wanted to scream about how terrified she was for the both of them. Part of her wanted a hug, but another part of her recognized that this was a situation that hugging couldn’t fix. It was something a plastic smile wouldn’t be able to hide.

That thought was confirmed when Ocellus said, “Silverstream… have you been crying?”

Oh, she thought. My eyes must still be red.

Silverstream dug her claws into the seat, nearly tearing the fabric. “I’m scared, Ocellus. That wasn’t you back there. Just a few moments ago I had a hallucination. I was on a beach and there was someone there, but I didn’t recognize them… but there were all sorts of loud noises and—” she clenched her eyes shut, trying to stave off tears. “I just want to know. How are you?”

Ocellus tilted her head. “What do you mean?”

“That tall guy said this specific type of possession is based on our mental health.” She cleared her throat. “Have anything you need to get off your chest?”

“Nothing I haven’t told you before. I still have nightmares sometimes, and my anxiety has been through the roof as of late, but that’s nothing new.”

“I just… I saw everything leading up to this, you know?” It was true, sort of. Ocellus’s anxiety had on-and-off periods. There would be times when the changeling would be joyous and partake in social activities like there was no tomorrow. Then, tomorrow would come, and she’d be distant and nervous.

Ocellus didn’t talk about what happened during Queen Chrysalis’s reign that much. She was open about it and didn’t mince information, but Silverstream could tell that she thought it wasn’t information worthy of bringing up. That gave Silverstream the idea that there was a lot still being held down. A certain trauma that she refused to talk about out of fear that she’d relive the experience. The sort of trauma that activated her stress receptors and left her hyperventilating.

It happened before. Ocellus was telling her about Detention. It was nothing like after-school detention, where the teachers make you stay an hour late and enforce boredom as punishment. Detention in the hive was far more creative, and the punishment changed depending on whatever crime was committed.

Ocellus had explained this to her one time while they were in the library and had a panic attack on the spot, supposedly from a flashback. After that, Ocellus never talked about Detention again, and Silverstream never budged.

Something had been different the last few days. Ocellus’s anxiety was at its peak. She was tired a lot. She hadn’t eaten in days, yet was never hungry. She punctured the seat’s fabric and dug her nails into the stuffing.

“I could have done something to prevent all of this,” Silverstream continued. “I noticed you were anxious but didn’t say anything because it was nothing new, and I didn’t think you wanted to talk about it in case it stressed you out too much. I ignored it and now we’re here. Ocellus, I’m sorry.”

Ocellus placed her hooves over her claws comfortingly. “Aww, Silverstream, it’s fine. I don’t think anyone knew what was coming. This was all kinda out of the blue.”

“I guess that’s true.” She glanced over at Mr. Black, who was reading a book. Silverstream got the eerie feeling that although he wasn’t watching them, he was ready to pounce upon the slightest twitch from Ocellus. “Are you going to be okay?”

Ocellus smiled. “I will be!”

Then, came the harder question. She gulped, having to force the saliva down her dry throat. “Will I?

Ocellus’s eyes widened, but they resettled quickly and she giggled. “You’ll be fine! Silverstream, I don’t know anyone happier than you.”

“I’m usually in a great mood, yeah, but lately I’ve been feeling really anxious. Like everything is coming apart at the seams. I can’t explain it, but it started when I heard about Lemongrass, then… you happened, and… now we’re here. I have this eerie feeling in my belly that none of this is going to end well.” Her claws dug even further into the seat, the muscles in her talons aching. “I’m really scared.”

“Hey, everything’s going to be okay,” Ocellus said, rubbing the hippogriff’s leg. “I have an idea! Why don’t you go talk to Counselor Trixie. She’s at the front of the car. She’s given me all sorts of helpful advice, I’m sure she can help you!”

“Are you sure you’ll be okay alone?”

“I’ll be fine.” She blinked with a certain calmness. “I just need to collect my thoughts.”

“Well, okay,” Silverstream got up and began making her way toward Trixie, but before she did, she turned back to Ocellus. “Let me know if you need anything. You know I’m here.”

Ocellus smiled. “Anytime, Silverstein!”

Silverstream gave a soft chuckle at the cute nickname.

Clack-clack Clack-clack Clack-clack

Trixie gritted her teeth and pressed the pencil against the page with her magic so that crumbs of lead were left in the wake of the line that she drew.

Breathe, Trixie, she thought. You’re just experiencing a creative block. Just keep at it and ideas will be flowing in no time.

Except she told herself that a week ago, and the week before that. Developing her ideas was so much easier when she was doing it day by day because it meant she could take a careful approach to her process. However, once she started her job at the school, that all changed.

For three years, she struggled to get everything right. She had always been prone to procrastination, but after starting her job it all became worse. She still put on magic shows, but they were less frequent. In some ways, Trixie also thought they were lacking more and more. Her last show was full of the lamest ideas and clichés a magician could perform, garnished with hacky jokes and a subpar presentation that’d make any stage director weep.

“And for my next trick, I’ll pull a rabbit out of this hat!” She winced just thinking about that line, especially partial to the use of “for my next trick.” Hacky. And the rabbit trick! Really? Was that the best she could come up with? But the part that made her wince the most was the joke that came after.

“They don’t call me Trixie for nothing!”

Ugh… she was starting to think she should run some one-liners past Maud.

Part of her considered that it’d be easier to stop; to set aside the star-studded hat, sell her wagon, and make a living counseling students. But a thought always scratched the back of her brain. It was that same thought that always reminded her how long she’d been performing. That same thought that made her look forward to becoming prolific once again. It’s the thought that reminded her to never quit, and it kept bringing her down everytime her day would be taken over by something work-related. That thought was blind determination… and she still believed it had merit.

“Hey, Counselor Trixie?” came a soft voice.

Trixie gritted her teeth and pressed the pencil down so hard that it snapped. She breathed. “Yes, Silverstream?”

“Is it okay if I talk to you for a bit?”

She thought about telling the hippogriff no, leave Trixie to her work! Then, she reminded herself that that would be irresponsible. Shutting the book, she set it down and patted the empty spot next to her.

Silverstream sat down and began by saying, “So I had a hallucination in the other car, and I don’t know what was going on in it, but it all felt vaguely familiar. Like I had lived it all before.”

She could feel a nail piercing through her skull. She tried to ignore it, but something about the squeakiness of the hippogriff’s voice hammered that nail in further. “What do you mean?” she asked.

“Well, I was on a beach. It looked an awful like the beach back home at Mount Aris. There was lots of screaming and sirens, and I could hear what sounded like explosions and my mom calling for me.”

This got Trixie intrigued. She shuffled in her seat so that she was facing Silverstream and curled a brow. “Silverstream, tell me dear… are there any memories you can recall from your childhood?”

Silverstream scratched below her beak and thought. “Nope. None.”

“What else can you tell Trixie?”

“There was a weird shadow-looking thing on the beach. I could tell it was a cub, but I couldn’t tell who it was. When I walked up to it, its uhh…” she twiddled her talons together, struggling to say the next part but managed to squeak out, “Its head fell off.”

Trixie wasn’t a super smart pony. Sometimes she felt as if her knowledge of the world was very little, less than the average pony’s in fact. But, being a student counselor provided her with a certain set of skills that she honed over the years. That set of skills was an ability to connect the dots.

Starlight and Mr. Black explained everything that was going on to her. These students were in danger of being possessed, and that the type of spirit possessing them gradually took over by affecting their mental wellbeing. What if it did so through psychological means? What if the spirit reached down far enough into Silverstream’s past that it found memories that were obscure, memories that were so traumatizing that they had to be blocked off so that she could cope?

“Anything else?” she asked.

“My voice wasn’t my own. I mean, it was, but it wasn’t.” She looked up at the mare. “Does that make any sense?”

“Specify.”

“It sounded like me when I was a cub. That was a long time ago, and I don’t remember how I sounded at that time, but I swear it was my voice!”

It clicked. Trixie placed a hoof on her shoulder and said, “Silverstream… There were explosions? Sirens going off? Screaming?”

Silverstream nodded quickly.

“How old were you during the raid on Mount Aris?”

The hippogriff's voice got caught in her throat, the silence blocked off by the clacking of the train’s wheels…

Clack-clack Clack-clack Clack-clack

Silverstream thought. She thought long and hard, and when she didn’t come up with an answer, she thought harder. She recalled her first memory (How old was she, five?), or something close to the first memory that led her into the stream of consciousness that she was now living.

Her mom was swimming frantically through the ocean, hugging her and Terramar tightly against her chest. The ocean’s surface was tinged with red, crimson sunlight shining down over their quivering forms. She remembered the way her mom’s heart beat in her chest, as if in some sort of fight or flight state.

After that, nothing. Her memory was shoddy after. Silverstream didn’t know what came before, and she didn’t know what came after, but she supposed they were on their way to Seaquestria for the first time since she could still recall how its construction came shortly after that memory.

But there was more, and Silverstream knew it. Everything that happened in the hallucination felt familiar, as if she had lived it all before.

The sky tinged with red.

The ocean’s surface tinged with red.

Her mom screaming her name.

Her mom’s heart beating in her chest.

The blood beach.

A bang.

Another bang.

Silverstream perked up, realizing that she could actually hear something banging against the window. She turned to Trixie, who was staring at her with the utmost concern through her reading glasses, and looked past her.

Resting against the window pane from the outside was a talon. It pulled back and banged against the window again.

BANG BANG BANG

“Let me in!” someone shouted.

Silverstream’s feathers stood on end. Her breath caught in her throat. Her heart stopped in her chest.

“Silverstream?” Trixie inquired. “Is everything alright?”

Next came the face. The terrified face of an adult hippogriff, banging frantically against the window. “Let me in!”

Silverstream screamed and stood immediately, nearly tripping as she backed out into the aisle.

“Silverstream!?” Trixie nearly shouted, worry spreading across her face. “What’s going on?”

Another hippogriff came into view, practically shoving the other aside to also bang on the window. Silverstream looked around the car in horror as talons banged on every window throughout the car, like a kettledrum, like a furious rainstorm, like dozens of hippogriffs trying desperately to stay alive.

“Stop it!” she shouted.

Just like that, everyone was standing and running over to her. She barely noticed them, too distracted by what was going on just outside.

Voices clambered over each other.

“Let me in!”

“Help!”

“I’m bleeding!”

“Let me in!”

“Don’t let us die!”

“My baby is dead!”

She threw both talons to her head, grabbing locks of feathers and bowing her head toward the ground. “Make it stop!”

Everyone around her was saying something, nudging her, trying to comfort her, but their words of encouragement were drowned out by the screaming.

“Silverstream, where are you!?”

Silverstream’s head shot up, and she realized that she was no longer on the train. In place of all of her friends was a forest of legs. Looking up, she realized they all belonged to hippogriffs three times her size.

“I want my mommy! I want my mommy!” she was sobbing, but her voice got drowned out by the dozen other voices inside the building.

No one seemed to notice her, many nearly tripping over her. The little cub had to weave her way through the crowd as she tried desperately to find her mom’s familiar face.

At the front of the crowd, muffled banging could be heard. She heard several of the adults shouting.

“Go away!”

“You’re going to lead them here!”

“Will someone please let them in!?”

Silverstream managed to cut her way to the front of the crowd and saw that dozens upon dozens of hippogriffs were banging on a display window. A tall white mannequin was knocked over, fallen off its pedestal from the shaking of the storefront. They were all screaming.

“Let us in!” someone shouted.

Silverstream continued to sob, saliva dribbling down her beak in blubbery waves. “Mommy, I want my mommy!”

There was a blood-curdling scream, and the crowd outside suddenly became more panicked, pushing against each other, shouting, trying to find a way out.

Red streaks splattered against the display window, and the crowd became mixed with pained caterwauls. A spear stabbed through the back of one hippogriff mare. Her body slammed through the glass, shattering it. She dangled there over the broken pane, its jagged end impaling her corpse.

Silverstream shrieked, voice hurting in her throat.

Colossal bipedal monsters towered over the crowds, bringing down wicked sticks of death that annihilated all in their path. One impaled a screaming mare in the chest, forcing her back against the pane and sliding her upward, smearing oozy blood against the glass.

Her body slammed forward, the glass shattered, and the monsters stepped in. Their thick white manes were coated with blood. They had arms and legs with the girth of trees, dark gray fur, and skull-like faces. By now the screams were a cacophony, mixing together so that they were a single shrill sound that grated against her ears.

Everything turned to chaos. Hippogriffs stumbled over her, tripped over her, even kicked her. Some managed to escape through the broken window, only to be absorbed by the wall of death that awaited them outside. Hippogriffs dropped one by one as the monsters funneled in.

All Silverstream could do was crawl. She crawled and hoped that none of the monsters would see her, and she nearly lurched out of her skin when someone slammed to the linoleum floor in front of her. A monster brought its bi-pronged spear down to a mare’s chest, but she caught it in the nick of time, using all of her strength to keep it from puncturing her skin. The monster stamped on her stomach, forcing the mare to let out a huff, and it stabbed her again, again, and again.

Silverstream was frozen stiff, her wings splayed out. The mare’s blood trickled down her face.

She backed away, hoping the monster wouldn’t notice her as it continued to stab the corpse. And just like that, she was swept away in the cyclone, various legs kicking her around. She heard another gut-wrenching scream, and something warm leaked onto her face, and before she could look up one of the hippogriffs towering over fell down on top of her, forcing the cub to the floor.

“Mommy!” she screamed.

Another body fell over on top of her. “Mommy, where are you!?”

Another. Soon it was a pile.

“Moooommy!”

“Silverstream!”

Suddenly, it all stopped. In place of the screams was the clacking of train tracks. People were standing around her, although she could tell who they were instantly. Even through blurry vision, she knew who they were.

“Silverstream!” Starlight said to her. Silverstream couldn’t respond because she was hyperventilating. “Breathe! It’s alright!”

It took a couple of minutes, but eventually, her breathing died down, and she was able to form words with some kind of order. “Headmare… Starlight… blood… Storm King…”

Starlight brought both hooves to the hippogriff's face and stared into her eyes. “It’s okay. You’re here. You’re fine.”

The hyperventilating stopped. Silverstream sat there, simply shaking in place.

Then came the cackling.

At once, everyone turned toward Ocellus, standing on the other end of the car. The way she laughed… wasn’t normal. It sounded like her throat had been grated, and she was struggling to push out the last wisps of air in the loudest way possible.

Finally, she stopped and said, “Did you really think I was that dumb, Blacky?”

Mr. Black stepped forward, standing between the group and the changeling. “Your use of the past tense implies I still don’t think it.”

Her eye twitched. “Oh, you thought I was a fool. You thought I wasn’t something to worry about, even, and for a while there, you were winning! But you underestimated me.” She grinned evilly, her teeth razor sharp.

“So, why did you feel the need to announce this?” Mr. Black asked. “If I underestimated you, then I would have expected you to find a way off this train by now, or at least take off running through the other cars. But you’re here. Wasting my time with false promises.”

Her eye twitched again. “You have a mouth on you. It pisses me off. It doesn’t matter though, because you’re about to all be dead.”

Mr. Black took another step forward. “And how do you think you’re going to kill us?”

Ocellus’s twisted grin returned. “Silly, I’ve been hiding things from you!”

Just like that, her horn ignited. Everyone flinched back as it went off like a sparkler, a green sparkler that shone brightly. Although a lot of energy was clearly being put into it, the inhibitor around her horn prevented it from becoming any brighter.

Pop!

The car filled with an acrid stench, and the inhibitor around her horn began to smoke.

“She’s trying to cook it!” Starlight shouted.

Mr. Black leaped forth.

Ocellus responded immediately, practically ramming into the door behind her. She forced it open and ran into the next car.

“Stay here!” Mr. Black shouted without looking back. “Don’t leave this car!”

Clack-clack Clack-clack Clack-clack

Wind whipped through Mr. Black’s feather’s as he transitioned between cars and zoomed down the aisles. Each car filled with an acrid stench, and by the time he’d reach the next Ocellus would already be on the other side, the smoke cloud thicker than before.

In some ways, he was actually impressed. Simply using magic was difficult with the inhibitor around her horn, so the fact that she was managing some output meant she had power in reserve. Such power must be extremely painful to use. If he was lucky, she would pass out before she had the chance to fry the thing off.

Or, he would chase her all the way to the caboose, where she would have nowhere to go.

His stream of focus was thwarted when he entered the next car and something hit his face. The world turned to spinning lights, his head feeling as if a piece of his skull had just been broken off. He caught himself against a seat.

The changeling leapt on him immediately, throwing her forehooves around his neck and embracing him in a tight bearhug. It was like a vice around his throat, cutting off all airway.

He rolled over, slamming her against the floor and forcing all of the air out of her. Ocellus let go, and at the same time a loud pop could be heard.

With her pinned beneath his talon, Mr. Black looked down and realized that the magic inhibitor was now destroyed and lying on the plush carpet beneath the seat in two burnt pieces.

A green light filled the room, and Mr. Black was suddenly floating through the air as the changeling grew beneath him. He fluttered his wings, hovering over the brim of the seats—practically hopping from one to the next—in an effort to get away.

Ocellus, now in the form of a grizzly bear, squirmed to get on to her paws, clumsily swiping her claws out, fabric and flinging stuffing in the process.

Mr. Black landed in the aisle on the other end of the car, and at the same time Ocellus managed to stand back up.

I’ll have to give her a full dose, he thought. But he stayed still. He could reach for his satchel, yes, but he would have to sift through the various equipment before finding the tranquilizer. By then, she could have him pinned.

He knew exactly what he had to do.

He chuckled darkly. “You chose a bear form to fight me in? I should have guessed that the only way you could beat me in a fight was to do so unfairly. Why, even your changeling form is next to pathetic.”

Even in bear form, he could see her eyebrow quiver. Ocellus gritted her teeth and snarled. Then, it twisted into a smile. A lovely, demonic smile that told him everything he needed to know. It said, “I’m going to make you a nine-course meal and have your brains for dessert.”

“Your cockiness is annoying,” she said. “But it won’t work anymore. I didn’t win wars by playing fair.”

His smirk remained. “Queen Tiran, I suppose?”

If a bear could look refined, she managed to pull it off. “Know of my work?” she asked smugly.

“Barley. You’re just a blur in Equestria’s history.”

Her brow quivered again. “So, how did you put it together?”

“It’s simple. Ocellus told us about you, which I’m sure was your intention. You wanted to make your presence known. Why is that?”

“For reasons you’ll never find out,” she stated simply. “Now, shut up and die, Blacky.”

Tiran charged forward. Her body was far too big to fit in the aisle, so she climbed over the seats with surprising agility. When they were just a few feet away, she lashed her claws out; simultaneously, Mr. Black sprawled out his wings and fluttered over her, stepping on her heading and doing a tip-toe dance along her back before landing behind her.

Reaching for his satchel, he removed the flap and scrumaged through his equipment. Displaying another surprising feat of agility, Tiran kicked her hindpaw into the square of his back, knocking him to the floor.

Things like hypodermic needles, vials of naloxone, and other odd trinkets spilled out and rolled across the floor. His sunglasses landed a foot away, the vibrations sending them skittering.

Before he could do anything else, a green light filled the car again, and the changeling was on top of him. Both forehooves wrapped around his head, she banged it against the floor boards as hard as possible and screamed, “Die! Die! Die! Die!”

Ignoring what felt like twenty nails being driven into his skull, the hippogriff forced himself to stand, and in a daze he lashed out his left wing so that the changeling would lose its grip and practically catapult it off him.

He didn’t account for his strength, and she slammed into the windows; her head shattering one and her rear-end cracking the other.

Still dizzy, he made his way over to his sunglasses. The moment he picked them up, another light filled the room. He glanced her way, and in a fascinating display of adrenaline he dropped them back onto the floor in a ready stance.

A rhinoceros tore through the car, ripping seats out by their bolts, tearing them, stuffing flying through the air, denting their metal frames, tearing carpet, cracking the floorboards beneath, and destroying some of the windows. Mr. Black sprawled his wings out and fluttered over her again, this time banging his head against a ceiling fan.

It sauntered in place, the light on one side of the car flickering, dust raining over them. He landed on his stomach, more equipment falling out of his bag. He heard a clacking and saw his needle gun sliding across the floor.

There was a crash, the sound of more glass shattering. He looked up in time to see the door swing outward in the wrong direction, the wood along its frame splintering.

A flash, and Tiran was back to her changeling form, although Mr. Black knew that it was just so she could turn around. A flash, and she was back in her rhinoceros form.

They both charged forward. Once a few feet away, Mr. Black fluttered his wings out. Tiran expected this and brought her head up, but Mr. Black was also expecting this. Clamping both wings to his side, he slid beneath her.

Tiran’s horn pierced through the roof, showering the car with splinters and sending some into her eyes. She screamed. A flash, and she reverted back to her changeling form, rubbing at them with her hooves.

Now was his chance. Reaching for his bag, he—a flash. A screech.

In a feat that could only be achieved through the reliability of fight or flight, Mr. Black threw his entire body to the floor. At the same time, something large and fast zoomed overhead. Tiran crashed into the door on the other end, and even through all of the wind being sucked into the car he could hear chunks of wood being ripped from the frame.

Looking up, he saw the beast Tiran had turned into. And beast was a very apt way of describing it. It was like a large bat, a foot or two higher than an adult hippogriff. It had big, leathery wings, and it stood on two legs. Its fur tousled in the wind, and when it turned around Mr. Black saw that it didn’t have any eyes. Its snout was small, wrinkly and pig-like; its ears tall with deep canals. It opened its mouth and screeched.

EEEEEEEEEEEEEeeeeee!!!

It zoomed toward him, and Mr. Black barely rolled aside in the knick of time before it buried its claws into the floorboard. Assuming that it detected him using echolocation, he held still, hoping that he was still in Celestia’s good graces enough that it wouldn’t brush up against him.

It stalked through the aisle, ripping up the floorboard with its talons as it did.

Across from Mr. Black, laid a metallic syringe. He reached for it.

Another screech. He was on his feet immediately, and instead of dodging, this time he ran after the beast. It tackled him, carrying him across the car. Mr. Black wrapped an arm around the creature’s neck and stabbed the syringe into its shoulder. It screamed, and before he could press down on the plunger it gnashed its teeth at his face.

He let go, falling to the floor. It brought its feet down, raking in search of him as he shimmied away. One-two, one-two, one-two they went up the aisle, spraying him with chunks of particle board that caught in his feathers.

He rolled aside, narrowly avoiding its claws, and clenched his eyes shut to protect them from the onslaught of sawdust. By the time he got back to his feet, it was on the other side. It halted its rampage, breathing heavily.

He didn’t move a muscle, eyes searching the floor for anything resourceful. If he backed up only a little, he could grab the needle gun with his tail. Or, he could take his chance and tango with the beast for the syringe. Either move was risky.

The beast glowed before him, shrinking down in size. When the green light faded out, the changeling was back. Breathing heavily.

Tiran turned laboriously around. Her head lolled to the side. Horn glowing, she plucked the metallic syringe from her shoulder and stared at it.

“What’s wrong?” Mr. Black asked. “Energy running low?”

“Shut up,” she bit.

“I told you, trying to use your magic while using the inhibitor would be a bad idea.” Adding mockingly, “Tell me, are you seeing stars?”

“I said, shut up!”

“Come with me,” Mr. Black pressed on. “You’re clearly incapable of fighting much longer. If you keep this up, you’ll overexert yourself. And I’m sure you still need a vessel.”

Tiran stepped back. Her horn glowed, and the cracks around the door’s frame expanded. “I… won’t… go!”

The door tore from its hinges. It banged against the outside of the train, then got swept away by the wind. “I’ll deal with you later,” she said, before stepping out onto the porch. She flashed green one last time and then jumped.

An eerie calmness fell over Mr. Black. The harsh wind seeping through broken windows acted as a grating violin. Almost like the unearthly scream of a banshee.

He began picking up the equipment that fell out of his bag, having to sweep aside stuffing torn from its seats and broken glass. Cherry red splotches dripped onto the floor. He swiped his talon across his forward and pulled it back to see blood.

He could only see a ghost of his reflection from the surface of one of the few intact windows, but he could still make out the small laceration a little above his right eye.

He arrived at his sunglasses. Picking them up, he sighed at the revelation that one of the lenses had been crushed.

Those were prescription, he thought.

His blood dripped onto the floor.

Outside the creature screeched.

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEeeeeeeeeee!!!