A Convex Xanthic
Yes? What do you want?
You must be mistaken. I'm nopony. Certainly nopony a reporter would be interested in. I'm really very boring.
Yes, I'm known as Lemon Hearts. But I don't know what makes you think –
No, I'm afraid I don't read your paper.
A regular feature, you say? It sounds neat, but your random sample has failed you this time, I think. I'm not exactly a good fit for – what did you say it was called? "Extraordinary Tales Told by Ordinary Equestrians"? I assure you I don't fit that description at all.
Oh, sure, now that you mention it, there may be some aspects of my life your readers might find interesting. But I'm afraid I can't tell you about those. Well, I could, but then I'd have to kill you, you know.
Alright, then. If you insist. Come on in, make yourself comfortable. No, let me close the door. I'll lock it so we're not disturbed.
Would you like some tea? Herbal tea, of my own design. I hand-picked many of the ingredients myself. It's no bother, I can brew up a pot right quick.
So... what do you want to know?
Like I told you before, my name is Lemon Hearts. Or, at any rate, it is a name. As good as any other, I suppose, and it's served me well.
Don't get me wrong, I'm not complaining. I know it's considered lucky if parents give their foal a name that later turns out to match the cutie mark. That's why I chose it, in fact. It sets ponies at ease.
Ah, the tea is ready. I told you it would be quick.
There you go. Careful, it's hot. And strong. Don't drink it all at once.
Yes, I suppose some explanations are in order. You see, regarding my profession... I am what your government would call a spy. A foreign agent. Oh Lord, don't give me that look. There's nothing unsavoury about it, really. I'm not after state secrets and I don't do sabotage. Not recently, anyway. My government has sent me here to observe, report back, and occasionally to intervene in important events to ensure the outcome my superiors desire.
I'm not surprised. I've long been amazed at the wilful ignorance you provincial Equestrians continually display. It's like you're proud of not knowing anything about what goes on beyond your borders. Or even that you have borders. You don't own the world, you know. Other beings live there, too. You should know that. Ponyville is home to several individuals from outside Equestria, and even one whole family with young foals. The town has finally accepted that zebras exist. And your librarian's assistant is a dragon. He's not even a pony, and let me assure you, his kind definitely don't hail from Equestria even if they occasionally pass through.
I can see you're a bit confused, and do I detect some incredulousness? Have some more tea. You want extraordinary tales? I have tales to tell. Let me start with a little filly who was born a few decades ago and many miles away...
***
I was raised in a neglected part of a very large town. We never had much in the way of amenities and my parents were not the warmest of ponies, but I wasn't unhappy. My life until puberty was quite unremarkable, until I... received my cutie mark. Nice, isn't it? Two blue hearts and a green one. I know what it means now, but back then, I had no clue. One day I was a blank flank, and the next, there it was. My parents didn't have the money to send me to school any longer than necessary, and now that I had a cutie mark and supposedly a purpose in life, the necessity had ended.
My inability to tell them what my "special talent" was was interpreted as recalcitrance, and they were none too pleased with the fact that none of the jobs I tried ever worked out. They thought I was lazy and unwilling to work, but I really didn't know. I was apprenticed with a doctor, a nurse, a physiotherapist, and a matchmaker, all traditionally associated with the heart symbol. I just wasn't suited for any of these professions.
Father's cutie mark was a bone, and he never failed to point out how he immediately knew his calling was to become a dog trainer, and one specializing in harsh discipline. After all, he used to say, if the Lord had wanted him to be nice to the dogs, he would have painted a puppy's face on his arse. During that last year, he also often said that if I was insisting on being as stubborn as a dog, I should be treated as such.
One day, I just left, and never came back.
It turned out that while I didn't know what my special talent was, I did have some talents, enough to get by on the streets. I was rather pretty even taking into account the grime that never quite washed off, was quick on my hooves, and had the patience and judgement to know when not to pounce on somepony. I had a way with words and I could make even many complete strangers trust me, at least for a little while. I projected confidence even when I didn't feel any. Charisma is a useful quality when your life consists of begging and stealing and conning, and I made a sort of name for myself both among my fellow urchins and among the authorities. Police ponies – our version of guardsponies, in case you were wondering – weren't as easily impressed as my marks, but I soon developed a routine that, surprisingly, kept me – and those who chose to follow my lead – out of trouble for several years. In hindsight, I realize the police could have easily caught me if they'd made a concerted effort and dispatched several officers at once to corner me. They never did.
I'm beginning to bore you, I think, so I won't dwell on my days as the princess of the thieves, as I liked to think of myself. Suffice it to say that this part of my life came to an end when I inadvertently caught the attention of a recruiter for my country's secret service. I was brought in, accepted, and trained. The time I spent in training facilities and in simple supervised field assignments polished my considerable talents in pony-to-pony deception and added skills to my repertoire I needed to defend myself and subdue any targets. I must confess that brute force has never been one of my strengths, so I specialized in more subtle forms of gaining a physical advantage. I'd never imagined that chemistry could be so interesting! Father was quite shocked when I... demonstrated my newfound skills to him for my red test.
The mission that originally led me to Equestria was simple: pose as a rich socialite and ingratiate myself with the Canterlot elite. That's another thing I'm quite good at: blending in. In Canterlot, I was a dumb little rich filly who looked down on those less well-off, as well as those who were more interested in working hard and studying than partying hard and studying, if you know what I mean. It was my job to pick up on gossip from the girls, and occasionally to do some, um, research of my own to extract information from stallions in the same circles, and relay anything that might be of interest to my handler. It was the easiest and most convenient assignment of my career, and of course it ended all too soon.
I don't know how they knew, but my bosses apparently had an inkling that something would be going down at the Summer Sun Celebration. They sent me to Ponyville, and I witnessed the return of Nightmare Moon firsthand. I'd first met Twilight Sparkle only the day before in Canterlot, and already she was ruining my life.
Anyway. After I informed my handler that Sparkle would be staying in Ponyville for the foreseeable future, I hoped I would be told to resume my duties in Canterlot. No such luck. My assignment had suddenly changed: I was to be Sparkle's shadow, following her wherever she went. That girl is a magnet for disaster, let me tell you. You ought to start an investigation into her; I wouldn't be surprised if you found out that Ponyville, and Equestria as a whole, was far more peaceful before she arrived and hooked up with her crazy friends. I don't know if you were there, but a while ago, half the town went completely gaga over some stupid doll, and I'm pretty sure a failed spell by Sparkle had something to do with it.
When I was stationed in Canterlot, I led a pretty comfortable life in the most sophisticated place your country has to offer – damning it with faint praise, I admit –, and I had access to a lifestyle suited to my looks and charms. I frequented ballrooms and drawing rooms and salons, and I attended gallery openings, dramatic performances and garden parties. For a girl like me, that's... that was the dream life.
Now, I live in this hovel. And I actually have to work for a living, can you imagine? For whatever reason, my handler decided I had to establish a new cover identity, and since he believes in verisimilitude and an efficient use of agency money, that meant cutting off most of my funds. I have a part-time job as an assistant to the town vet, in case you were curious; as far as she knows, I have an amateur interest in potion-making, and she has me prepare solutions to lace the animal food with: anaesthetic ones prior to operations and others as part of a medication regimen.
Several patrons of the clinic have remarked how well my potions work and how my cutie mark reflects my love for animals; the vet herself tells me my cutie mark resembles an ancient alchemical symbol and may reflect my pharmacological skills. I let them believe that.
It's not, altogether, terrible work. I like to think I'm providing some balance to the world that way, make up in some manner for the things father does, or did, I mean. The results are similar – the animals behave like I want them to behave –, but my methods are nicer, I'd say.
It can get very tiring, juggling that job and my observational duties. Sparkle and her friends get in a lot of trouble, and I've become very adept at cowering in fear and running away whenever something horrible happens to the town, which seems to be almost every other week. Or at least I'm pretending to do so, only to sneak back when nopony is looking so I can follow that librarian.
But there are other times where my job entails giggling like an idiot at inane pranks, listening intently to meaningless drivel, or participating in superstitious town traditions regarding the changing of the seasons. And for allegedly representing the "Elements of Harmony", those six ponies are remarkably dysfunctional; they engage in many utterly pointless fights and moral conundrums that are moral conundrums only to preteens without real life experience. None of that stuff is worth cataloguing, but I'm compelled to do it anyway.
I shouldn't complain, of course. As a spy, you can't take anything for granted, and a mission is a mission. I've had physically taxing and mentally uninspiring... assignments before, and I've gotten through those. It's just... the disparity is so striking. Not a day goes by that I don't imagine, hope, that I can return to Canterlot, where I really belong. I manage to go there sometimes, but I always have to come back here.
I'm pretty sure I could convince my handler to give me a post more worthy of my potential, now, to get me out of this town. I just... haven't been able to meet him face to face recently. He's been avoiding me, probably because he's read in my missives what I really think about Sparkle and those friends of hers. I know for a fact, hanging around them all the time, that they get far more credit than they deserve.
And nopony ever considers their many screw-ups. I've already mentioned the whole doll incident. Applejack once accidentally poisoned a dozen ponies, me included. Rainbow Dash intentionally made it rain all over town to curry favour with Twilight Sparkle, with no regard for the welfare of anypony else. Rarity yelled at me for no reason at a very important party that Princess Celestia herself attended, drawing undue attention to us and making it impossible for me to eavesdrop. She is also responsible for driving away a band of Diamond Dogs who I relied in for some rare herbs I didn't want to collect in the Everfree Forest myself. Pinkie Pie is an insane stalker who won't leave you alone until you give in to her random demands. And then there's the yellow one.
I could just be protective about my cover job, since Fluttershy is taking work away from my boss by taking care of lots of critters for free, and not just wild ones. What I need potions for, she can achieve by talking to or merely looking at an animal. But she doesn't really know what she's doing; once, she unleashed an unholy plague of parasprites unto the town. I especially hate how she treated the opportunity of a lifetime, when she was discovered by Photo Finish. She could have finally gotten away from Ponyville, become rich and famous. Instead, she made a mockery of fashion shows right there on the catwalk. And when the crowd loved her even for that, she had the gall to refuse to model any longer. Why, if it had been me...
Not long ago, I purchased a horrendously overpriced cherry just for the satisfaction of Fluttershy not getting it. I don't even like cherries and I probably should have spent the money more wisely, but it was totally worth it. I heard Fluttershy went on a rampage a day later, ticking off half the town.
But I guess I do have her to thank for one thing: she made me figure out the meaning of my cutie mark. Not long after my initial arrival, I followed Sparkle's gang on a trek to "confront" a dragon. I overheard them saying that it was threatening all of Equestria with its smoke, but that seems a tad overblown. In any case, in order to hear more clearly what they were talking about in front of the dragon's cave, I took a risk and got very close to them. If they'd turned back at that moment, they would have discovered me, and I'm not sure I could have thought of a convincing excuse. The dragon had them cornered and Fluttershy looked ready to run away, right into my path. I'm certain she would have done so, too, judging from her great reluctance to accompany her friends on the trip to begin with. So I wished very fervently for the Pegasus to finally grow a spine and do something, anything that would cover my retreat. To my surprise, she did.
This was not a coincidence. I discovered via experimentation that my "special talent", if you want to call it that, was to instil confidence in ponies. I'd done it since childhood, subconsciously, and this innate faculty of mine was the source of what I used to call my charisma.
Over the next few weeks, I learned to control this ability. It is not a spell that has to be cast, but some kind of aura that surrounds me naturally. With enough concentration, I can fine-tune my "signal": I can increase or decrease my range to cover specific ponies, I can dial my ability up or down to determine the strength of the confidence boost, and I can even embed some concrete suggestions, subtly influencing just what it is a target is supposed to become more confident about.
It's not mind-control, exactly, but it is very useful for getting other ponies to do what I want them to do, as long as I only tweak a fear or desire they already have. The police never tried to corner me because they always thought – were made to think – they could handle me on their own and get all the credit. Deception is also helped immensely by literally projecting confidence; it makes my acting more convincing and makes far fewer ponies suspect that I am not who I claim I am.
You know, I've heard rumours that Nightmare Moon was defeated because she was overconfident – she didn't take those Elements of Harmony as seriously as she should have, spent too much time gloating, and was consequently overpowered. I wasn't there, and back then, I couldn't have consciously contributed to her blunder anyway. So I don't want to claim credit. However, it is possible I had a hand in that subconsciously, since I was at city hall when the Mare of Darkness first appeared.
I know for certain I helped bring down a number of other villains who've crawled out of the woodwork since Sparkle first used the Elements. I'd been following the group when they confronted Discord, and I was just outside the throne room when Chrysalis had taken over. In both cases I projected cockiness and overconfidence into them, giving the "heroes" the time to regroup. One bad guy who falls victim to his or her own reckless arrogance may be a coincidence, but three? If not for me, Equestria would long have fallen to one of your enemies. You're lucky I have a general standing order of preventing instability – unless ordered to cause it, naturally.
I see the pot is empty. I have more stories to tell, but I'm probably stretching your capacity to properly listen right about now.
***
Don't you want to ask any questions? Oh well, that's fine. The conversation has long been mine to direct, anyway.
You may be wondering why I would be so open about all of this to you. I rather enjoyed telling somepony all this, more than I thought I would. I can't really say I truly know anyone here in Ponyville; I have no real friends. Of course that's just another aspect of life as a spy, you understand. It's lonely. You can never divulge to anyone who you truly are. It's all secrets and covers and clandestine operations. It's nice to have someone to talk to.
Sure, I could give you a demonstration. But I don't really need to, because I already have. My... talent is the reason why you've been sitting there for so long, sipping my tea and listening to what I had to say without interrupting me. You've let me talk because you know it will make for an exciting story, and I've made certain that you had no doubts at all about your ability to up and leave whenever you like. I can't let you do that, of course.
Lord, no. To protect my cover, this interview, such as it was, can never be reproduced. I did warn you back when you were at my door, if you care to remember.
No, don't worry about that, I won't kill you. That won't be necessary.
My abilities are a bit more extensive than you may realize. They're not limited to merely boosting confidence. I can also take it away. You may know my history, but you will never be able to repeat it to anypony. You will think that nopony would ever believe you, and that you would be the laughing stock of all of Equestria if you insisted on publishing this article. You will not have faith in yourself or your audience because I am telling you that any faith regarding this matter is foolish and self-delusional. You will be far too embarrassed to even hint at this conversation to anypony else, and you will want badly to forget it.
Right now, you are probably feeling yourself get sleepy. I persuaded your body to take a nap. When you wake up, my suggestions will have taken hold.
It worked? It worked! Of course it did. You're right, it's silly for me to doubt myself. It's not like this is the first time I've tried it on a pony.
I'm Lemon Hearts. A lucky name, for it matches my cutie mark. But not really: the hearts are not yellow. If they were, they would be invisible over my coat, and I have had it with being invisible and insignificant and unnoticed. The hearts are not red, either. They have nothing to do with love, or care for animals, or care for ponies. The two blue hearts stand for my ability to increase, even double another pony's courage or confidence. The green one represents faltering resolve.
I always thought it curious that the hearts aren't arranged symmetrically, like many cutie marks are. But I think I know now why: the hearts are dancing. They are dancing to the tune I am playing.
And so will you.