> Changeling Blood
>  by Wise Cracker
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> Prologue: the Fine Print
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Changeling Blood
Prologue: The Fine Print

Princess Celestia looked over the clamouring crowd. Dealing with journalists was a bit of a bother, and she felt it had been since… well, the invention of journalism, actually. The announcement she’d made a few days earlier had caused quite the stir among her little ponies.  

But of course, when one announces that one is going to offer shelter and even pardon to a group of changelings -- of the very same hive that attacked the city not too long ago, no less -- there’s bound to be some commotion. Still, she knew in her heart this had to be done, and thankfully she wasn’t alone in dealing with the media this time.  

“Now, now, one at a time, one at a time,” King Alberick -- also known as the Griffon Smith of Peace -- announced, silencing the mix of ponies and griffons who’d shown up to this press conference. A great hulk of a creature, he was definitely more lion than hawk, with the personality of a honey badger to boot. His thick limbs made a proud display of his strength, always, and he kept his claws and beak as sharp as his mind. Truly, Alberick personified that old adage of the Griffon Nation: “One does not assassinate a member of the royal family. One simply loses assassins.”

One light pink unicorn raised her hoof, slowly and quietly. Celestia nodded towards her.

“Are the rumours true? Are these changelings being granted amnesty and citizenship?”

Well, that got right to the point.

Celestia looked to Sapphire Gaze beside her, the changeling dwarfed in between the two royals.  

“In a manner of speaking," Celestia replied. "While it is true that the changelings who arrived here will not be punished for any past crimes against our nation or the griffons’, they will not be considered citizens of Equestria. I’ve discussed the matter with my sister and King Alberick at great length, and we decided the best course of action would be to let them found a small town of their own, to be treated as a city state.”

The crowd erupted, questions blurring in the noise. Celestia silenced them with a wave of her slender foreleg.

“Now, this means they will have territory to call their own; a small section of land that neither Equestria nor the Griffon Nation have seen fit to claim. They will enjoy the same rights as ponies and griffons, and be subject to the same rules. The children they brought with them will have to follow a basic education, and the adults will be expected to find some kind of profession.  We’re also encouraging them to integrate in griffon and pony society, so they will not be isolated. However, the land assigned will be their own, so they are free to put forth their own rules on it. Given their unique abilities, we all felt that this would be best.”

A small silence fell before another pony, a pegasus stallion this time, raised his hoof and wing.

“Does this mean Equestria is accepting all refugees now? Even the ones that have been hostile to us before?”

Celestia shook her head.  Princess Luna answered in her place. “No, we are not. We are granting the changelings land that is not ours to take, but is ours to give.  It’s part of the neutral territory ponies and griffons agreed upon centuries ago. Neither of our nations was permitted to expand there, but nothing stops either of us from ceding the land to a third party. That also means that if other changelings come seeking a better life, we do not need to find a place for them here in Equestria.”   

The crowd grew mute. Luna took a deep breath to quell the concerns she knew they all had.

“Let it be clear: there has been no threat to your security at all, nor will there be. The changelings that came here were treated first as prisoners of war, they were escorted to Canterlot for security’s sake. After that, they were given medical attention, as international law dictates, and they were then subject to inquiry. They gave us the location of their hive as well as the exact composition of their military device, and our scout reports have given us no reason to doubt them. They’ve offered all the knowledge they have, and what we have been able to test has proven most useful. We have no good reason to deny them, and the position we are giving them puts them out in the open where they can be monitored while leading a normal life.”

This time it was a griffon who had a question. King Alberick let the clawed creature speak.

“What about the changelings’ powers? Isn’t moving them to a border town an act of war?”

“Not in the slightest. If anything, denying them would be an act of war against us. The region we’ve assigned lies straight on a sandstorm line. We’d have put up a barrier years ago if our territorial treaties hadn’t complicated things. Putting up a small neutral territory lets us abide by the old treaties and still get some necessary work done. The changelings have already suggested a barrier made of one of their flexible cements, and when the town is finished our northernmost settlements won’t have to worry about getting sandblasted every two weeks. Besides that, the location of the place makes it easier for the children to attend school in griffon country. We already have towns with mixed populations, they’ll fit right in even without their disguises. As for administration: they’ll answer to both our laws, but they will be considered neutral as far as military goes. This is no more an act of war than a unicorn paying our lands a visit.”

Celestia nodded. “Understand that this small group has sworn off deception. They are here because they do not wish to be used by their Queen anymore, and they’ve agreed to all the terms we’ve set them. Their powers do not make them any more dangerous than normal unicorns, or any kind of pony, for that matter. Only four of them have any advanced magical skill to speak of, and only one of these advisors will remain in the town.” Celestia motioned to Sapphire Gaze beside her, the one who was now known to be the Archmage of Chrysalis, and by extension the second most dangerous changeling in existence. “The other three will be spread over Equestria and placed in positions where their knowledge can be put to good use. They’ll also be funding part of the new settlement to get it started. They will be monitored, rest assured, but they will not be imprisoned. The changelings are protected and bound by the same laws as all of us are.”

“But then you’re still putting Queen Chrysalis’ Archmage right in range of the Griffon Nation, and leaving a perfect opening for an attack or a trap,” a pegasus pony reporter insisted. “Are we supposed to just accept that these creatures seek nothing but redemption, even after attacking us?”

Alberick smirked unpleasantly at that remark. “That’s an odd thing to say, isn’t it? If memory serves, didn’t you ponies once destroy your homeland with hate and mistrust? I’m pretty sure you have a holiday to commemorate it and everything.  We griffons have a nasty history ourselves, the changelings are no better or worse than what either of our races once were. Have the quota on second chances been lowered the past few centuries?”

The crowd erupted at the remark, and at long last Sapphire Gaze, the blue and black changeling Archmage, raised a paw to ask for silence. She carefully moved her blue web-like mane aside so her eyes weren’t occluded by it. As she stepped forward, the sheer pressure in everyone’s eyes felt like a crushing weight on her heart. Sapphire took a few deep breaths through her mouth and a few emergency breathing holes she kept near her neck.  

“Umm, look: I know we’re not welcome everywhere. I know you have no reason to trust us. But you can still trust your rulers. We do, we have to.  And... what they aren’t telling you is that…  I’m taking all the blame myself.” 

A few eyebrows raised at that.

“The four of us were the personal advisors of Chrysalis, which makes us a threat. We understand that, and we’re willing to bear the consequences of our history. I’ve been assigned as leader of the colony. If there have been any crimes that we as a people need to account for, it falls upon my shoulders. So if you have any qualms with how things are, I’m the one you want, not the others.”  

She bit her lip as she tried to think of more to say, the gaze of the crowd boring into her. She could guess their thoughts, even without resorting to a spell. She wasn’t just a stranger, she was a threat and a usurper of pony lands, as far as they were concerned.

“That’s all there is to it. We were at war, we surrendered, and this is what your rulers have decided to do with us. You trust them enough to rule you, you can trust them to treat us as fairly as we deserve. If you don’t think this is fair, well… you can talk to me or to your rulers. We are through with hiding and running, and if you have any issues with us we will settle it by your laws. You have a choice, which is more than what we had to work with.”

Silence fell.

“I know we don’t belong here, that we have no real right to any land. We will leave if we can and if we have to. But now you know where we are, and we’re a sitting duck for any real offensive, from either the Griffon Nation or Equestria. We can get wiped out at any time, which isn’t much different from what we had at the hive. But at least now we can try to make some decisions for ourselves, turn a new leaf. We don’t want to be remembered as a race of parasites.”  

Another awkward silence, another deep breath. Sapphire could almost feel her heart breaking, and the spare one was starting to ache a little, too.   

“I know you probably won’t believe me when I say this, but… we’re the last ones. Chrysalis destroyed the other hives trying to build her Changeling Kingdom, all that’s left are the drones who were subjugated by our former Queen, and perhaps a handful of solitary survivors. But believe me: we were pretty good at war, there will not be many left of those.”

The journalists started glancing awkwardly at each other.

“That is your real concern, isn’t it? How many more are coming? Rest assured: not many. We didn’t leave a lot of survivors during our wars, and it’s only the ones with a hive who are sent out to feed. You’ll find most changelings living in the wild, with barely any consciousness left after a lifetime of being brainwashed by a Queen. The changelings that aren’t with us died a long time ago, their bodies just haven’t caught up yet. So don’t worry, they will not be joining us, and you won’t have to deal with them. It’s just us.“  

No calls answered her, just the sound of scribbling.

“And if you really hate us, well, think of it this way: we need love to survive, remember?  If we’re really that unwanted, we won’t be able to live at all.”

One griffon raised a claw.  

“Yes?” Sapphire nodded with a quiver in her demeanour.

“What are you going to call this new colony? Have you settled on a name?”

The blue-maned changeling looked to the princesses and the king, before taking a deep breath to summon her confidence.

“Yes. We are calling it Alveola.”





“That went well,” Alberick offered, chinking his glass to Celestia’s, Luna’s and Sapphire’s. “You made quite the impression, little one.”

The changeling shivered nervously as ponies and griffons mixed with her three compatriots. They were surrounded by journalists, nobles and whatever other notables the royals had decided to invite.  

Sapphire sighed. 

“Thank you, all of you. I know this can’t be easy to explain to your people.”

“Do not worry about it,” Luna added with a knowing smile.  “I think you’ll find ponies and their friends can be quite accepting when given time.”

“Well, our families and the children are safe, that’s all that matters. And the rest of the former council is blending in well, at least,” Sapphire remarked.





“Whoa, easy on the truffles there, fella,” a yellow stallion wearing a suit -- and oddly, a Stetson hat -- said, ”that stuff’s mighty expensive.”

The changeling with the amber mane and tail stopped scooping from the buffet and headed to a table, with the stallion in tow.

“Oh, sorry. I just assumed this was the main meal, it was back in our hive.  We’ve had to survive on just that and honey.”

That got a raised eyebrow from the stallion. He motioned towards a tan acquaintance, an older fellow by the looks of the grey hues through his black mane and tail. The two sat down with the changeling for a little talk.  

“I’m sorry, did you just say you eat that all the time?” the yellow stallion started, pointing to the truffle paste before digging into his own dish. The light brown one looked a bit surprised at the notion.

“Um, yes. Is that a problem?”

The tan stallion chuckled.

“No, but it is a bit strange by our standards. I’m Rich, by the way. My name is Rich, that is. And this is Braeburn, he lives in Appleloosa. If I understand correctly, that’s not too far from where your new colony will be.”

“Rampant Growth, Horn of Plenty, but everyone calls me Ramp. I was in charge of food back at our Hive, what food we could get.” The changeling took a tentative bite of the truffle paste.

“And you are quite sure that what you have on your plate there is what you ate back home? Frequently?” Filthy Rich asked curiously.

Ramp chewed carefully, then swallowed.

“Hmm, yes, quite sure. It’s truffles, isn’t it? We grew those in our rot farms. It’s good food, but a little heavy if you have to eat them too often.”

Braeburn shot Filthy Rich a knowing look.

“So… changelings know how to farm truffles reliably? Am I understanding this correctly?” Rich asked.

“Well, I wouldn’t say reliably, but we had to make do to try and feed everyone, and this is one of the better fungus species, so…”

Braeburn shook his head and pointed to the paste.

“Just out of curiosity, what do you use for that? You still need to graft the things on an oak tree, right?” 

“We do, yes. It’s easier on live wood, but mostly we’ve had to rely on dead oak trees back home. You can still get a couple of kilograms off a root trunk, though.”

Rich’s mouth was starting to hang.

“And on a live tree?”

“Oh, on a live tree it’s less, but you don’t lose the wood. That’s one of the things we warred over with the other hives, actually; oak forests are basically farmlands for us. Truffles, acorns for paste, that sort of thing. Since we never managed to farm pulses, we had to use mushrooms to keep our protein up. That is, in our normal shapes. We used it for baby food, mostly."

The stallions stared a little at that. Rampant Growth swallowed nervously.

“Is something wrong? We surrendered the details of our technique, if you’re interested. Princess Celestia will be making all of our knowledge public in a few days.”

“Celestia said that Chrysalis' hivelings would get the settlement, but her advisors would live in Equestria,” Rich started, changing the subject. “I take it that means you’ve found a position somewhere already?”

“Well, no, I-wait, what did you just say?” the changeling asked, confused.

Braeburn finished his meal and raised an eyebrow. “Do you have a place to stay yet? Any job to do?”

“No, before that,” Ramp inquired, getting quite anxious by this point.

Rich looked around, checking where the other advisors were.

“Well, the former advisors of Queen Chrysalis are separated, right? For security’s sake, in case anyone ever tries to come after you. And it makes it easier if only one of you has to get involved in politics and all, especially with all the other nations that might hold a grudge. It’s a rough deal, but your families get a new home, and the three of you get to live in Equestria still, right?”

“Yes, the th-three of us are going to live in Equestria. But Sapphire will stay in the new settlement with the rest of the former hivelings.” Ramp seemed to mull over something, as if he were upset by what the stallions had just said. Or maybe not upset, just agitated.  

“I guess that means you’ll be missing your family, huh?” Braeburn asked, sympathy welling in his voice.

To that, the Horn of Plenty chuckled. “We changelings are naturals at adapting. New environments don’t really shake us much, and at least now the f-four of us can keep in touch and make decisions on our own."

Rich shrugged and flashed a friendly smile. “Well, if you need a job, I know some truffle farmers who’d gladly take in someone with experience. It’s considered a luxury food here in Equestria, we can’t keep up with demand when the holidays run around.”

Ramp chuckled nervously. “Somehow I doubt food that a changeling has touched will sell very well.”

“You’d be surprised,” came the reply in a Southern drawl. “Besides, you’re an advisor, aren’t you? If your advice is help enough, you could just stick to teachin’. Believe me, I come from a farmin’ family, I should know. When you grow food, you’re always eager to learn how to grow more. Ya tend to lose prejudice when food’s on the line.”

“I can think of a few places that would gladly offer a suitable position,” Filthy Rich offered. “That is, if you’re in the market for that sort of thing.”

The changeling gasped. He looked overwhelmed, and not just by the offer. “Umm… yes, gladly. I think that would be perfect. In the meantime, would you excuse me for a moment? Something very urgent just came up.” Ramp got up and rushed towards Sapphire, who was currently speaking to some unicorns about some anecdote on magic or another. 

“Sapphire,” he started, before realising the company he’d barged in on, which included royalty, “Your Highnesses, if I may.”

The blue and black changeling’s face turned grave when she noticed her friend’s panic.

“What’s wrong, Ramp?” 

“The deal we made? Us being scattered?” Rampant Growth whispered, gritting his teeth.

Sapphire nodded and put a foreleg on his shoulder. “What’s the matter? It’s just a security measure. That way we can all get to safety if Chrysalis does decide to try something and I’m the only one who gets any political power. You can still keep in touch and live a normal life. You can leave the rest to me.”

“That isn’t the problem. Don’t you see, Sapphire? We signed the contract.”

“Yes, we all agreed this would be best. So what’s wrong?”

Rampant Growth sighed.

“What are we going to do about Bastion?”





Twilight Sparkle casually weaved through the dignitaries and representatives. The purple unicorn mentally steeled herself for what she had to do. This wasn’t going to be easy, but Celestia expected a solution and a solution she would bring. Twilight found her target and took a deep breath. This would require delicacy and tact, for her task was of international importance, and her only hope was unorthodox.

“Hi, Lyra,” Twilight greeted her old friend, “enjoying the reception?”

“Oh yeah, we were just talking to that construction gal over there. You wouldn’t believe how many styles of architecture these changelings picked up over the years.” She pointed to a female ‘ling with a pink mane who was currently entertaining the journalists. Twilight recognised one stallion as Equestria’s Minister of Culture, too. He looked impressed, which wasn’t an easy feat when dealing with Canterlot ponies.  

“I’ll bet. It is pretty crazy, isn’t it? A changeling nation right next to Equestria?” 

“Well, Alberick’s got a good point: ponies did some bad things before, griffons have a bad history, and the way things are now is a lot safer than they were before, right?” another mare replied.

“Oh, hi, Bon Bon, didn’t see you there,” Twilight nervously started, “Umm… listen, there’s no easy way to say this, so I’ll just say it: I was just talking to princess Celestia and the subject of adoption came up.”

Lyra cocked her head, raising her eyebrow before taking another sip of her drink. It did not help. “Celestia wants to be adopted? It’s a little late for that, isn’t it?”

Twilight shook her head, looking for the right words. “No, not like that. I mean we got talking about the whole system of adoption, and I was wondering what you thought of it.”

Bon Bon looked a little anxious at that. “What about it?”

Twilight leaned in for privacy’s sake. “Well, you two are registered for it, right? As potential parents?” 

“Yes, we are,” Bon Bon replied.  “We signed up for it right after we got married, you know that. They’re not changing the law on that, are they?”

“No, no, not at all. There’s no problem, it’s just that… I guess it’s a little hard to understand why you would do that, you know?” 

Lyra chuckled mirthlessly. “Twilight, what are you talking about? Is there a problem with the way we are?” 

“No, no,” Twilight stammered,  “I’m happy you guys got together, even if we never were close friends.”

“And that wasn’t for lack of trying on my part, was it?” Lyra joked.

“Definitely not.  But what I’m trying to say is, you two had such a small wedding --“

Bon Bon grimaced. “After what happened at the last big wedding, we were kind of aiming for a small ceremony.”

“I know, I get that.  And even if you had a small wedding, you still went and made it official that you wanted to be together, I get that too.  What I don’t get is why you’d sign up to be adoptive parents.”

The two mares stared at Twilight for a moment.

“What exactly are you getting at, Twi?” 

Twilight lowered her voice and tried to sound casual, which was getting harder and harder by the second. “I mean, if you want children, there are other ways to do that. You could get a foal that would at least have some of your blood.”

“Oh, that.” Bon Bon chuckled as she nodded. “Well, we could, but we’d rather not. Thing is –“

“We don’t want it to come from a stranger,” Lyra interjected. “And even though both of us know stallions who’d… you know, ‘donate for the cause’, we can’t really ask that of them. Of any of them.  It’d just get weird after a few years.”

Twilight nodded. “Okay, but still, adoption?” 

By now, Bon Bon still hadn’t managed to see the silly unicorn’s point. “What’s wrong with the idea? You don’t think two mares can raise a child?” 

“I think kids are raised and shaped by a lot of different things, but that’s not my point. What kind of worries me is: adoption’s kind of a long shot, isn’t it?” Twilight narrowed her eyes as she said it.

Lyra, meanwhile, took the final sip of her wine, and she dearly hoped  any spirits in the room -- alcoholic or otherwise -- would grant her some modicum of understanding.

“How do you reckon?”

“Think about it. We haven’t had a major war in centuries. The last real war we had was just one battle, and we won. We don’t have that many diseases and even then… thing is, if something bad really does happen and a foal loses their parents, there’s a system for their family to become legal guardians. I guess what I’m trying to say is, the whole concept of adoption is kind of a relic now. ”

Lyra gave her mate a hug with a free foreleg.  “We know. They told us all that when we filled out the papers. We know it probably won’t lead to anything. But it’s a principle thing. We wanted it on paper that we’re up for taking in a child.”

“But if you adopt, you wind up with a child who looks nothing like you, right? They wouldn’t have your blood, they’d have a different smell, they might have hereditary medical problems that you don’t know how to deal with. Doesn’t that bother you?”

Bon Bon shook her head with a confident smile.

“Nope, not at all.”

“So you really are serious about wanting children?”

The couple frowned as this conversation had gone from weird to approaching the Twilight Zone, a term that had been coined solely to describe the awkwardness of a conversation with Celestia's purple protégée.  

“Yes, we’re serious,” Lyra attested, her cheerful expression starting to fade just a tad.  

Twilight bit her lip. This was the big one.

“How serious?”
> Fitting In
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Chapter 1: Fitting in

Twilight sipped her tea as the café started filling with ponies. She and Lyra were early, but then they both had schedules to keep, and they were close enough to the bell tower to avoid losing track of time. Twilight had to open the library -- she loved Spike dearly, but this did nothing for his sleeping regime -- while Lyra was expecting some instruments to be delivered. Still, that didn’t stop either of them of engaging in some small talk, particularly if it involved a topic even Twilight Sparkle wasn’t too well-versed in.

“So how’s the little guy doing?” 

“Oh, he’s great, you have no idea. We had such a good time in Canterlot, he didn’t even realise why we were there. You should have seen the look on his face when we explained everything to him: he just lit up. He’s still shy, though. He really likes getting hugged but he’s scared to hug anypony else.” 

“So he’s okay with you being his new moms? He hasn’t started feeling homesick or anything? He doesn’t miss his friends?”

“Well, he never even knew the other changelings in his hive that well, so there’s not much to miss. He really didn’t have a family, and with me and Bonsie, now he does. We had Berry Punch over, so he’s gotten some interaction with another pony, but he’s sort of starting from scratch on that one. Oh, and we got him that pet beehive you suggested, good call.”  

Twilight smiled, always happy to help and happy to be right.

“He likes it?” 

“He loves it, even managed to get them working overtime on honey. He's trying out all sorts of things with the honey now, you'll probably see him in the library soon for research. So... yeah, he loves it. It’s something to keep him busy, and it reminds of home without the bad memories, so it’s a pretty big improvement. He loves living in Ponyville, and he loves all the new things around here. Same with food. He’ll try anything, even if it smells weird, and he’s probably learning tastes he never got at his hive. I don’t know what to say. We’ve got a happy little kid, and we’re happy to have him. But between you and me,” Lyra started, leaning in a little, ”I think he’s still scared.”

“Well, who wouldn’t be, with what he’s been through?” 

“Not like that. I mean he’s scared of upsetting us. First night he got in his new bed, he went out like a candle. In the morning, he was crying.”

Twilight winced.

“Bad dreams?” 

Lyra chuckled.

“No. You know those holes they have in their legs? He’s got these spurs on the edge of his forelegs that are grown in, and he didn’t realise. He just tore up his sheets and mattress in his sleep. When we woke him up, the poor guy was shaking, physically shaking, because he thought he’d done something bad. Because of a silly accident. So we got him some peejays and wrap up the sharp bits when he goes to sleep.”

Twilight smiled in sympathy.  

“What about his fever?”

Lyra shrugged at that.

“He’s sicked it out, like anypony would. He didn’t really mind being cooped up, but… it’s kind of harsh to get to a new home and then have to stay inside, you know? Still, everyone gets their shots, he’s no different, and at least now we know he’s safe from whatever diseases he might catch from us ponies. Besides, it gave us some more time to explain how things work in Equestria. There’s a lot of things he didn’t know about.”

“I can imagine. I guess Bon Bon is showing him around Ponyville today?”

“Yep.  Bon Bon’s got a little something planned to get him used to talking to other ponies. She’s taking him to the market today, but first she’s going to wean on him on something easier.”

“Wean him? It’s that bad?”

“Trust me, it is. He barely talked when Berry Punch first came over. He hid under a couch for the first five minutes until he realised he was supposed to join in the conversation. He knows she lives across the street now, at least, so that’s some progress, and he was really interested when she told him about her work.”

“Huh. I suppose he would be, all things considered. But is he ready for school?”

“Right now? I doubt it. You can’t wait for him to socialise with a pony before he starts talking. No, he needs to get out and understand he can make friends on his own. So Bonsy’s planned a warm-up today: take him someplace where the ponies he talks to won’t mind if he’s shy, but where he still has to speak up.”

Twilight Sparkle thought it over. The bit dropped, but the soda can got stuck.

“I don’t get it.”





“Welcome to Ponyville Spa,” Aloe greeted. “How may we help you today, Miss Bon Bon?”

“Hey, Aloe. The usual for me, and the same for my son. We might have to add a little something special, though, but that’s up to him,” Bon Bon replied, smiling gently.

“Oh?” Aloe looked at the mare. “You brought your son?”

Bon Bon moved a hind hoof to gently nudge something behind her, and slowly a black creature with clean symmetrical holes in its legs, matching on each side, walked into view. It was about the size of a pony foal, and had a short light green mane with holes in its web-like texture that went over its curved horn. It also sported transparent perforated wings that looked like those of a beetle. The little thing had some sort of plate on its back in a dark blue, and black skin plates all over, if it could be said to have skin. Its face was smooth and round, making it look like most of the fillies in town, but the small eyelashes and the V-shape of its armoured back gave it a definite masculine look. Its eyes darted from Aloe to Bon Bon, prompting another nudge.

“Go on.”

Just before he talked, there was a hint of a reverse echo, an oddity that got Aloe’s attention but not something that would frighten her. 

“Umm… hi.  I’m Bastion.” His main voice still had the high pitch of a child, but the changeling echo already rang in it, and at least one of the voices that came out of him had the deeper bass sound of a teenage boy.

Aloe nodded in greeting.

“Pleased to meet you. Is it just Bastion or do you have a last name?”

The young changeling looked at his mother, who nodded in encouragement.

“Pristin. My name is Bastion Pristin,” he replied, saying that last one with a distinct French accent.

“Oh, a French name, no less,” Aloe fawned in her own thick accent as she guided them to the sauna. “Well, then, Bastion, as your mother asked we will start with the sauna to open your pores, followed by a session in the Jacuzzi, and then we have a deep tissue massage with aromatic oils. After that, we finish with a pony pedi. If you’d like any additional treatment, you need only ask.”

As the sauna opened for the pair, the little one looked up fearfully at the mare. He seemed to think he was about to be cooked or something. Bon Bon gently guided him in, one hoof pressing against his hind quarters to urge him on.  

“It’s supposed to be that hot, sweetie. It’ll help you sweat out... you do sweat, right?” 

The boy nodded. 

The two sat down on some wooden boards and started getting coated in steam as Aloe put some water on the hot stones in the centre. “Well, this will help you sweat out any toxins that might still be in your body, and then after soaking in the bubble bath you’ll get a massage and a pedicure. A pony’s going to rub and squeeze your muscles to relax them, after that it’s just a bit of grooming.”

The boy sighed softly as Aloe left them alone.  

“A pony’s going to touch me?”

“Yes. Don’t worry, I’ll be right next to you, and it’s supposed to make you feel good. But if any of your muscles are a little sore, or if you’ve got any tender spots, you’ll have to tell them, okay? You’re going to have to get used to talking to other ponies.”

He cringed ever so slightly at the thought.  

“It’ll be alright, sweetie. Just remember to be polite, and don’t be scared to say when you’re feeling uncomfortable. You’ll get the hang of it, I’m sure.”

The little changeling nodded nervously.

“Guess I should be a natural at blending in, huh? Me being, you know…”

Bon Bon chuckled.

“Well, there is that. But nopony will mind, really. Just relax a little, and it’ll come natural. I promise.”

Bastion yawned.

“Is it okay if I lay my head down for a while? I’m kinda tired from last night.”

She brushed his web-like mane away from his eyes and checked the temperature of his carapace.

“I knew that last movie was a bit much for you. But sure, you can lay your head down for a bit. You’re not too hot, are you?” 

He looked at his mom and smiled, swallowing as the heat gave his skin plates a dull sweat shine.

“No. This is pretty good. I think I like it.”

“I knew you would, honey.” She leaned in and gave him a gentle kiss on the back of his head as his eyes drifted shut.  

The poor guy was all tuckered out. Last night had been spent getting him familiar with pony culture, which according to Lyra meant ‘movie night’. He’d gotten the hang of common expressions and dialogues quite quickly, and thankfully he was smart enough to be able to tell what was only done in movies and what was done in real life. Still, they didn’t have a lot to work with.  

Their daytrip in Canterlot had been a fun way to get acquainted with each other and get him out in the open, but the fact of the matter was Bastion had never been around ponies his entire life. He hadn’t even really interacted with anyone who had a personality to speak of, save his uncle and the rest of the council’s families. And even that bit of contact hadn’t given him a lot in the ways of social skills. Their stay in Canterlot had been spent with him talking to the mares but just blocking up when anypony else tried speaking to him. It wasn’t an easy thing to explain, either.

But Lyra and Bon Bon had gotten him up to speed pretty fast. He didn’t have the abilities of an infiltrator, but he did have some innate talent picking up social skills, and he grasped most of the social rules pretty quickly. Came with the package, most likely. He still had to learn how to deal with different ponies and personalities on an individual level, though. Perhaps that was due to the nature of his hive: all identical personalities governed by general sets of rules on how to act. Always the same rules, always the same personalities to interact with. He understood half of social skills, at least.  

The whole thing was a bit ironic, Bon Bon felt. If little Bastion had been like most of his kind, he wouldn’t even have a personality to speak of, just a rudimentary ego to assume the role of whoever they were supposed to replace. He’d be more of a doll instead of a boy. They could make him whatever they wanted, the perfect son, but it would all be due to magic and not any sort of parenting skills on their part. Wouldn’t mean he wasn’t perfect, though.

But then, where does one draw the line between educating a child for its future life and eradicating any semblance of what makes a child unique? Such things puzzled the mind of the mare. The sauna had a way of bringing out the philosopher in Bon Bon, a baker turned Zen by being put into an oven herself.  

Time passed as she pondered, and the idea of a mere child like Bastion being stripped of his individuality, his soul, stuck with her.  

Regardless of where the line was drawn, it just wasn’t right to do that to a child, to a species. But then, Bon Bon didn’t know how changeling society worked, exactly, and she had more urgent concerns for the moment.  

Like the sauna door opening, for instance. Shapes moved through the room, and before long Bon Bon and Bastion weren’t alone anymore.

The mare blinked a few times, then snickered.  

“Bastion, honey? Now would be a good time to wake up.”

The little changeling opened his eyes and snapped his head up at a sudden invasion of his personal space. There appeared to be a white unicorn filly with a curly mane inspecting him up close. She was accompanied by a mare of similar coat colour with a purple mane.  

Bastion looked to his mom, unsure how to handle the situation.  

“Hi!” the filly started.  

Bon Bon looked down at the boy as he still looked at her nervously.

“Now, don’t be rude.  Say something.”

“Umm… hi.”  

The filly bounced up, apparently excited at getting any sort of response from him, or just surprised by the sound of his voice. She was getting rather too close for comfort, too.

“I’m Sweetie Belle. You’re new in town, right? What’s your name?” 

Again he looked at Bon Bon. Again she motioned him onward.

“I-I’m Bastion. Bastion Pristin.”

This set off a rapid fire of questions.

“Cool name. Is that French? Does it mean anything? Is that what you always look like? Why don’t you have any tusks? Shouldn’t your eyes be covered? Aren’t you supposed to be bald? What about that–“

“Sweetie Belle, calm down, you’re scaring the boy. He’s clearly not used to being around other ponies, so be nice. I do apologise, darling, my little sister can be bit overzealous sometimes. I’m Rarity, by the way. Just that: Rarity.”

Bastion smiled up at the mare, his shaking subsided for the moment.

“Hi, pleased to meet you.”

“Pleased to meet you,” Rarity replied with a polite nod. “And to answer your first question, Sweetie Belle: a bastion is an outcropping on a castle wall. It’s something that sticks out to protect, so the name is mostly reserved for those with very important families. ‘Pristin’ isn’t actually French, but a griffon name made to sound French. It’s based off of ‘Preston’ and our word for ‘pristine’. It means ‘stainless’, or ‘flawless’, and it’s usually given as a title, not a name. So if I had to guess… I’d say what we have here is a boy of noble birth. Am I right, Bastion?”

To Bon Bon’s surprise, Bastion didn’t shake at the question. He just looked away in embarrassment.

“Umm… yeah, it’s true. I guess I’m kind of, sort of nobility? But we didn’t really have nobles in the hive. I don’t think it counts like it does for ponies.” 

Sweetie Belle leaned in closer to investigate his face, making him sweat even more.  

“So, is this what you really look like or do you usually wear tusks?” 

Again he gave Bon Bon a quick look, silently asking for approval.

“It’s a fair question, sweetie. No need to be shy.”

“Well, no. I mean, no, changelings don’t usually have tusks. We've got fangs, but we don't grow them out unless we need to. And we’re not all bald, either, that’s just a shape for fighting in. Same with our wings; those usually have holes in them, we only close them up and make them more wavey when we fight. But the way I look, right now, is what changelings normally look like.”

“You change shape to fight? Cool. So you’re gonna live in Ponyville now? Are you going to be in my class?”

“Err, I don’t know."

Bon Bon nodded at him.

“Yes, honey, you will. Sweetie Belle is in Cheerilee’s class, and so are you.”

“Okay, guess I will be in your class, then,” Bastion replied with his wings giving off a nervous buzz.  

“Great! You’re gonna love Ponyville!” Sweetie Belle squeaked just as Aloe opened the door.

“Miss Bon Bon, Bastion, if you would please follow me to the bubble bath?”

Bon Bon got up with a smile, and her adoptive son followed suit, both now covered in a good layer of sweat, but only the changeling actually smelling the part.  

“See you around, Bastion,” the filly said as she waved, settling down for her own steamy treatment.

“Yeah.  See you around, Sweetie Belle.”.

As the pair settled into the bubble bath, the scent of lavender soaking into their skins, Bastion’s face got stuck in ‘worry mode’.

“Mom?”

“Yes, Bastion?”

“D-did I say something wrong back there?”

“You did fine, honey. I’m sure Sweetie Belle and her friends will like you.”

“Her friends?”

“Apple Bloom and Scootaloo. Nice fillies, also in your class, but they can be a little intense. You’ve got to be careful around them, but they’re not mean.”

The changeling sank into the tub, thinking.

“Bastion, sweetie, don’t worry. You’re a nice pony, remember that.”

The boy grumbled.

“Except I’m not a pony.”  

“You’re close enough, and you’re nice, and that’s all that matters. Trust me: when you go to school tomorrow, everything will be alright. I promise.”

The boy took a deep breath and sighed in relief as he sank into the scented water.

“Thanks, mom.”





“So it’s no problem?” Lyra asked.

“Oh, no problem at all. He’ll fit right in,” Cheerilee replied.

Lyra grimaced a little as they kept on walking down the street.

“I don’t mean that. I mean the rules you’re gonna have to follow. I’m still not sure how he feels about it, but-”

“But nothing. If your son can’t be left alone and you can’t pick him up, then he can just ask somepony to walk him home. I’m not going to embarrass a student on their first day if I can help it. Besides, Scootaloo usually heads your way when she’s going home, he can tag along with her. Or Piña Colada, if she’s off to her sister’s. There’s nothing to worry about, Lyra. This is Ponyville, remember? Your son will be alright.”

Lyra smiled nervously.

“I guess you’re right. It’s just hard not to worry about his first day of school, you know? Suppose he doesn’t make any new friends?”

The pink-maned mare chuckled at that.

“What’s so funny?” 

“Nothing. It’s just that you look and sound just like all the other parents on the first day of school.  It suits you,” Cheerilee noted with no small amount of glee.

Lyra blushed fiercely at that, shaking her head to avoid the looks of any bystanders.

“Well, can you blame me?”

“Not really, no. But come to think of it, how’s it working out? Being a parent, I mean. No one’s had time to catch up with you yet. You just went to Canterlot and came home with a son. How’s it going?”

“I honestly don’t know. It’s great so far, but I guess it doesn’t really feel real yet. You think you have to catch up? So do we. It all went so fast. And all three of us are kinda new at this.”

The teacher smirked to herself.

“I’m sure that’ll pass. And hey, after getting pampered in the spa, I’m sure little Bastion will be pretty relaxed about it, too.”





The changeling gritted his teeth as the file went to brutalising the soles of his feet. His eyes started twitching, but when he looked towards his mother, her expression seemed to indicate that this sort of torture was normal. Bon Bon looked right back at him. He knew what she was expecting of him, and she wasn’t going to step in.  

She smiled in sympathy as the boy took a deep breath. He visibly braced himself.  

“Cuh-could you please stop that?”  

“What’s wrong, Bastion?” Aloe asked. “Are you not comfortable?”

“No, sorry,” he admitted as he lowered his gaze at the pink mare tending to his feet. “I’m not sure how anyone can take that, actually. It really hurts.”

Bon Bon’s smile faded as finally, the boy was starting to speak frankly. She hadn’t expected anything actually hurting him on his first steps out in Ponyville, though.

“Well, honey, it’s just a pony pedi. It helps keep your hooves nice and clean.”

The boy raised his front appendages to his face and stared.

“So, do I need to grow hooves now?”

That got an odd look from the beauty specialists. Even Lotus Blossom stopped her work on the Earth pony mare.  

“Are you saying those aren’t hooves?” Lotus asked, pointing to the hard ends of his paws.  

“Umm, no? Hooves are nails, right? I’ve only got skin all over.”

Aloe inspected his body, confused.

“But what about your horn, and those hard plates?” 

“Well, my plates… I think you call those 'calluses'? I mean, they’re hard but I can still feel everything on them, it feels like normal skin to me. It’s not dulled at all, if that’s what you mean. The only thing that’s kind of like a nail is my horn, and even that’s got skin around it.”

“Oh my. No wonder you don’t like a pedicure. How about an exfoliation, then?” the pink spa pony asked.

“A what?”

Bon Bon laid back and let her treatment continue.

“Scrape off some of the dead skin, make you feel a little softer.  It might still hurt a little, but not as much as a pedi,” Lotus explained, resuming her work on the mare.

“Oh.  Umm… yes, please.” The boy smiled eagerly.

“What about the holes in your legs? Are those harder or more sensitive?”

Bastion blushed.

“Both? It’s sort of a glandular thing. I’m not sure if that makes a difference?”

Aloe patted him on the head.

“Just wait here, Bastion. I shall fetch a pumice and some fruit cream.”

“Huh?”

“The fruit cream is for your holes,” Lotus explained. “It’s a little acidic, so the skin can soften up without scrubbing so hard.”

“Oh.”

He laid back to let the Earth pony start working over his skin plates with the pumice, slowly getting some dull grey spots on his black belly as his skin plates were cleaned and softened. It still tingled his skin, but at least this wasn’t as rough as a hoof file. With the stone tied to her hoof, Aloe had no trouble going in between the growths and cleaning out the boy’s joints. A little wipe with a damp cloth got rid of the grey spots, and soon enough the boy’s whole body was shining.  

Bon Bon was done a while before her son was, of course. As she looked down at his face, she noticed he seemed to be enjoying it, but he was still a little apprehensive about something.  

It didn’t take her long to figure out what. She wanted him to learn to talk to other ponies, and he’d done about as much talking as could be expected for a first try. More to the point, what was really bothering him was something even ponies wouldn’t speak of, so she made an exception.  

“Aloe, would you mind going over his spurs again? They’re pretty sharp, and I think they’ve been bothering him.”

“Of course.” With that she gave those ingrown curves another once-over, getting the edge out of those hooks and dulling them to mere decorations.  

Bastion smiled as his first spa treatment got finished. He smiled all through the dulling of his spurs, those little outgrowths on his paws turning to less of a threat and more of an ornament. When everything was said and done, the boy couldn’t help but stare at his reflection. Bon Bon looked him over as well, and even the spa ponies seemed impressed.

Then again, they’d never had to pretty up a changeling, so they were very much on the starting end of the learning curve on that one.  

Bastion now had a shine to him, and all the sharp edges of his plates were smoothed out to give a sleeker look to his body. His wings still had their sharp corners -- there wasn’t much that could be done about that without grievously injuring him – and his dagger-like horn still looked a little menacing compared to the rounded ones unicorns had, but all in all it was a decided improvement.  

“Now, Bastion, what do we say?” Bon Bon asked.

“Thank you. Thank you very much.”

“Well, you are very welcome,” the pink mare replied as Bon Bon settled the payment. “It’s not often we get such a well-mannered boy under our hooves.”

“Easy there, Aloe,” Bon Bon warned with a wink. “He hasn’t met any colts yet.  He doesn’t know who you’re comparing him to.”

To that, Bastion started pondering as he walked out with his mom.

“Wait, so was that a compliment or not?”

Bon Bon rolled her eyes as she went out the door.

“It is a compliment, sweetie. What she meant was most boys think it’s very girly to go to a spa, so they don’t like it.  Or they make a fuss, unlike you.”

That got the boy thinking a little.

“So boys and girls don’t just act different, they’re not supposed to act like each other, either? But how do you keep track of all that? I thought boys and girls were supposed to be equals?”

She shook her head, weighing her words carefully lest she give him the wrong idea. In the distance, a slight buzz could be heard, Doppler-shifting towards them at an alarming pace.

“It is allowed, Bastion. As a matter of fact, wait right there,” she warned with an extended hoof.

A roaring dust cloud appeared before the two, one that made a purple trail and promptly headed off in the direction on Sweet Apple Acres.  

Bastion had taken refuge behind the nearest convenient wall he could find, which at that time happened to be his mother. He looked at the dust trail, then came out from behind her when the danger had passed.

“What was that?” 

“One of your classmates. One of Sweetie Belle’s friends, actually,” Bon Bon explained casually as her little boy was recovering from the shock. “Her name is Scootaloo, and she acts very much like a boy at times. Come to think of it, I’m pretty sure most of the boys are scared of her. My point is, a lot of girls have boy traits, a lot of boys have girl traits. There’s nothing wrong with either, and they do have equal rights. They just tend to have different interests, most of the time.”

“I don’t get it. Am I going to have to turn into a girl next time or not?”

Bon Bon gave the boy a comforting hug with a foreleg.

“No, you’re not going to have to turn into a girl. You won’t need to change shape at all anymore, we told you that already. Just try to understand that ponies grow up learning to think a certain way, and that’s it’s a little harder for them to change the way they think than it is for you. Ponies are all different, even if we follow the same rules. You’ve got those down already, you just need to adjust to being yourself and not trying to copy someone else or hide.”

“Oh. Right, try to be myself.” He lowered his head pensively as those words sunk in. That instinct to hide was easy to lose track of, even for him. “But how will I know when I’m doing something right?” 

Bon Bon considered that for a moment as they broke the hug and resumed their walk. Truth be told, she was getting questions she hadn’t quite expected.  

“Well, you don’t. You just learn to judge things, and if you make a mistake you learn from that.”

“So how do I judge things?” 

That was a question she did have an answer to.

“Just try to do what feels right. Listen to your heart.”

Bastion gave that some thought.

“The big one or the spare one?”
> First Impressions
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Chapter 2: First Impressions

Lyra took a deep breath in as she tightened the string on the harp again. She gave the instrument a gentle strum, and smiled at the tickling sounds in her ears. Perfection achieved, the angelic notes worthy of the Canterlot opera  flowed forth once more.  

The unicorn mare sighed in relief at a job well done. She got up and marked the harp on her schedule. 11 o’clock on the dot, perfectly on time. The three violins and cello she’d fixed earlier this week led her to think that the Canterlot Opera must have been playing some very riot-inducing plays recently. Not that she was complaining; broken instruments were good for business, and the odd ocarina she’d made for the latest ‘Zelda’s Tail’ was a nice change of pace.  

She looked around, sniffed the air and noted that once again that sweaty odour hung around her, the aroma that accompanied all driven artists. She always worked better in quick bursts, but the aftermath usually left her tired, today being no exception.   

She turned her head to stretch her stiff neck and caught sight of a fond memory. To her left in the workshop, there was the little lyre she’d made when she was nine. Three strings made from firecat hair and a frame made of the most delicate exotic hardwood, she’d played her little heart out on it after making it. The unicorn fondly recalled those heavenly sounds she’d produced. It was a moment she’d never forget, the moment she got her cutie mark thanks to her own little lyre.

Of course, other ponies had never really understood why she’d make such a fuss about a lyre made of shoelaces on a coatrack. But hey; it got her a cutie mark, and that meant that despite the silliness she’d grown up a bit and discovered her talent.  

As the mare plopped down at the living room table, her magic fetching some tea, she couldn’t stop thinking about talents and futures. Particularly concerning her new ward, or rather her son. She’d jumped at the chance of having a child to call her own, even if it wasn’t exactly what she’d expected. Sure, the whole idea of adoption implied she’d be getting a child who’d suffered some loss, but both her and Bonsy had agreed that they could handle it.  

She wasn’t so sure of that notion now. Even when they’d agreed there had been a few iffy points to clear up. The legal matters and the fact that he couldn’t be left alone were simple enough, but that one conversation with Sapphire Gaze still stuck with her as feeling off somehow.  





Lyra took a deep breath to steady herself. Even at this late hour, she felt wide awake, and the tension she and Bon Bon were feeling was definitely at the root of that.

“Just out of curiosity, assuming everything works out and he gets to stay with us, what are we supposed to say when we have the talk with him?”

“The talk?” Sapphire asked.

“You know, ‘the talk’. When he grows up, tries to make a family of his own?”

“Oh, right. Um, nothing you wouldn’t say to any other child, I guess. We can breed with any species, if the – you know – anatomy matches. Our genetic material doesn’t work like that of other species, but it does work.”

“Okay, but at some point he’s going to ask about his kids being like him or not. That’s the part I’m worried about. What are we supposed to say to that?” 

“He err… he doesn’t know any of that yet, so you’d have to start from the beginning. He knows it takes a male and female, since he was supposed to be bred and all, but that’s it. As for any progeny; our material changes when we change. Whatever shape he’s in when he’s… mating, that’s the material he’ll be passing on.”

“So if a changeling’s turned into a pony, their kids are ponies? Normal ponies?” Bon Bon asked.

“Completely normal,” Sapphire answered with a nod. “There’s no trace of our kind in a child like that.  It’s actually happened that changelings start families out of their species and aren’t even found out to be changelings until they die. Rest assured, there’s no effect on the next generations, none.”

“And if he doesn’t change shape?” the unicorn asked.

“Then the result is changelings. Same rules for grandchildren, but a female can’t change shape while she’s expecting, things just lock up. It’s a choice he-- we are going to have start considering, I suppose. Like I said, we don’t work like other species do. What part of the genes we can’t use is discarded and replaced by the changeling parent’s. If we’re really far apart, the child is pretty much a clone. But we’re quite close to ponies, so any children would look like a mix of him and their mother, just like ponies do. Their species would still be ours, though. Are you sure you’re willing to go through with this? We can try to find another solution.”

The two ponies looked through the crack in the door. The little lump in the bed was sound asleep, all worn out from seeing the sights of Canterlot with the pair of mares. The boy had spent most of the day with a smile on his face as he thought he was just getting a little treat. He hadn’t even realised the mares might be a lasting presence in his life.

Lyra and Bon Bon exchanged a glance. After the briefest moment, they just smiled and nodded.

“We’re sure. If he’s okay with it, he can come live with us.”





Lyra suppressed a chuckle as she sipped her tea. She decided she was worrying too much. After all, Bastion had jumped at the idea of having parents. He never even bothered to ask any questions about the how or why.  

Except for one question that Lyra silently decided she’d treasure forever.

“So… do I get to call both of you ‘mom’ now?”

Looking around the living room, Lyra put a hoof on what exactly it was that bothered her. Bastion acted like the two were his moms, even after just two weeks of staying at home. He didn’t show any embarrassment about it, no little remarks about his birth parents. If Sapphire hadn’t explained everything they’d never have known.  

It wasn’t normal for a kid to act like that with total strangers.  

Then again, what they had wasn’t a normal kid.  

The mint-green unicorn finished her tea, and idly wondered if she should get Pinkie Pie to read the future in the leaves left. Another look around the place, and she decided against it. Something about the living room made her mind wander and her breath quicken. It wasn’t the fact that she could see the beehive they’d gotten Bastion as a welcome gift. While it did take a little getting used to, the bees weren’t dangerous, and Bastion had turned tickled pink (literally) when they’d shown him the wooden buzzing box. Twilight’s suggestion had been spot-on, not that there was ever any reason to doubt her. The boy loved his new home, and he loved her and Bon Bon, no doubt about that.  

Even if Bastion hadn’t really had a mom before, now he’d get to have two. It was as simple as that. As far as the mares were concerned, the boy’s birth parents were gone, and he'd been left alone for far too long. Bon Bon and Lyra were his parents now, that’s all there was to it.  

Lyra glanced around the living room again and finally settled on a course of action.

"We’re gonna need pictures."





Bon Bon and Bastion trotted along the street, the mare laden with her groceries and the boy nervously shifting his gaze around as the merchants shouted on and on about their wares. The Earth pony could tell the little changeling was getting nervous, despite his new shiny look.  

“Mom, I think ponies keep watching me. Can we go home now, please?”

“Don’t worry, Bastion. They’re looking at you because you’re new in town. Berry Punch looked at you too when she came over, and she was nice, right? Everyone knows you’re with me and Lyra. A lot of ponies have asked about you while you were sick, actually. And come to think of it...”

Right on cue, a mass of pink flung itself from the shadows into Bastion. All at once, he was tackled, scooped up and placed on a pedestal that erupted in fireworks and ribbons. All his efforts at trying to lay low had apparently failed.

“Mom?” 

“It’s alright, honey, it’s just a Ponyville tradition: a little baptism by fireworks and confetti. Pinkie Pie calls it the ‘welcome wagon,’” she replied calmly.

“What’s a Pinkie Pie?”

“That.” Bon Bon pointed to the pink mare who was currently doing a song and dance routine.

“Hi! You must be Bastion!” she exclaimed when the confetti settled. “I’ve heard so much about you, we’ll be best of friends!”

“Can I come down from this now?” the boy asked his mom with an air of dread.  

Bon Bon nodded at him and smiled as the pink mare kept on hopping around the boy.

“Pinkie Pie, would you mind calming down? He’s not used to ponies. You don’t want to scare him, do you?”

“Oh, sorry.” Pinkie held up a hoof to her lips in apology, before extending it to Bastion.  “Hi, I’m Pinkie Pie. I always welcome new Ponyvillians.”

Bastion tentatively took the hoof and slowly moved it up and down like he’d seen on TV.

“Oh. Umm… thanks?”

“You’re welcome.”

Bon Bon smiled a bit at the scene unfolding and stepped in. She’d weaned him on normal ponies, true, but Pinkie Pie’s presence was overwhelming at best. Part of her wanted to tell the mare off, but a deep, calming breath got the better of that reflex.   

Keep your cool, Bon Bon, don’t snap. No point getting annoyed over nothing. ‘Laugh at everything’, like Lyra always says.  

The boy whimpered, bringing the mare’s attention back in the present.

“She also likes to make friends. Pinkie here’s friends with everypony with town.”

“That’s right: every pony, every mule and every donkey. Not every changeling, though,” Pinkie Pie remarked, leaning in close but backing off when she noticed the boy's tension.

“Wuh-what would I have to do to be friends with you?”

Bon Bon rolled her eyes at that.

“You wouldn’t have to do anything special, Bastion, not for her.”

The pink mare leaned in with a slightly intimidating smile. She got so close he could tell what she’d had for breakfast. He also noticed her dinner from the day before must have involved spinach, but he thought it prudent not to bring up the topic of nutrition to a pony who might have a little too much sugar in her diet. 

“Well, do you want to be friends with me?”  

For once, he didn’t look to his mother for approval.

“Err, sure?”

“Great!” Pinkie exclaimed with a hop. “Oh, just one thing, then: when’s your birthday?”

Bastion blinked.

“My what?”

Pinkie Pie gasped in shock.

“You don’t know what a birthday is? But then… you’ve never had a birthday party? You’ve never even had a birthday? But if you never had a birthday, then that means you were never born! And if you were never born, that means you’re not real! But how can you be standing there if you’re not real? Are you a ghostie?”

The little changeling pouted sadly, not even fazed by the onslaught of questions but hurt by the sentiment.

“I am not a ghostie. I’m a changeling. And I was too born, I just don’t know what day. We didn’t really keep track of all that, I mean, I didn't. Didn't think I'd need to.”

Pinkie Pie calmed down and lowered her voice.

“Oh hey, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you sad about it. But if you’re going to live in Ponyville, you should get a birthday. You’ve got a lot of parties to catch up on, and you can’t throw a birthday party without a birthday, right?”

“We’re still working out some of the details, Pinkie Pie,” Bon Bon interjected. “We’ll let you know when we settle on a date for his birthday.”

“Great! I’ll see you around then, Bastion!” Pinkie Pie bade him goodbye with another excited hop, before carting off her welcome wagon.  

Bon Bon nudged the boy just a little to get the surprise out of his system.

“Yeah. See you around.”

Bon Bon resumed her pace, with Bastion in tow.

“That wasn’t so hard, was it? Pinkie Pie is a little odd, but she’s nice. She always tries to cheer her friends up when they’re down, and she throws the best parties.”

The two headed to their next stop; an apple stand.  

“Applejack, good morning.”

“Top of the mornin’ to ya, Bon Bon. You’re here earlier than usual,” Applejack started, before letting her gaze fall on the changeling.  

“Well, we had an early spa visit.”

“Now that you mention it, you do look pretty shiny. And who’s this fine gentlecolt?”

Bon Bon noticed her son quivering a little at the mare’s look. That was odd; he’d lightened up with Pinkie Pie just then. He’d been doing so well so far, there wasn’t any reason Applejack should make him nervous.

“I-I’m Bastion Pristin, ma’am. And I’m not really a colt. Not a pony, I mean.”

Applejack’s ears twitched at the sound of his distorted voice, but her expression didn’t betray anything.

“Aw, shucks, hun, you don’t have to call me ‘ma’am’, Applejack’s fine. And if you don’t like being called a colt, what am I supposed to call you?”

Bastion cringed a little, and turned his head away. Applejack raised an eyebrow in confusion at the gesture.  

“It’s okay, sweetie. ‘Colt’ is what we call all the boys, so you do count as one. You’re certainly not a bull or a buck, are you?”

He meekly looked away, before staring at all the apples on display.

“No, I guess not.” 

“So what’ll it be today, Bonsy? Apple pie, apple fritters, apple tarts?” 

“The usual. Six apple fritters, six apple tarts, and… which apple pie would you like, Bastion?”

The baker noticed her son staring at the little market stall. He closed his eyes and sniffed, before hovering up with a little buzz and pointing to a pie behind the orange mare.

“That one, please.”

Applejack chuckled.

“Can you really smell the difference between that pie and the others from there?” 

Setting down on the ground, his eye fell on the cornucopia of apples and apple dishes again. He barely looked at the mare, his eyes kept darting to all those apples.

“Sure, if I concentrate. That one’s got more... saffron in it, right? And nuts?” he guessed, trying to recall the name of the aroma.

“It’s an apple crumble,” Bon Bon explained with a wink. “You’ll see why it’s called that when he have it for dessert tonight.  Is something wrong, Bastion?”

He shook his head, then looked at his mom. She looked down and raised an eyebrow to encourage him to talk. He still looked nervous being around Applejack for a reason she couldn’t divine.

Finall taking the hint, Bastion cracked.

“Um, I was just wondering, are all these apples and apple pies yours?” 

“They sure are. Made those fritters and pies myself just this morning.”

“Applejack’s family owns an apple orchard,” Bon Bon explained. “The oldest orchard in town, actually. She harvests it with her family. The Apples go way back, there wouldn’t even be a Ponyville if it weren’t for her ancestors. The Apple family supplies pretty much all the apples in Ponyville, and a lot to the neighbouring towns as well.”

To Bon Bon’s surprise, the boy’s jaw started to hang a little at that.  

“So how do like Ponyville, Bastion?” Applejack’s question snapped him out of his reverie. His eyes lowered right after that, though, going back to the plethora of apples in front of him.

“Oh, um… it’s really nice. I already made a new friend on my first day.”

Applejack flashed knowing grin.

“Pinkie Pie?” 

“Uh huh.”

“Well, she’s a good friend to have.” Bastion shivered at the remark, though Bon Bon couldn’t guess why. She stroked his mane to get it in order again, he kept getting the tip of it in his eyes.

“But you’ll make more friends in school, won’t you?” 

Applejack’s ears perked.

“Oh, you’re not in Cheerilee’s class, by any chance?” 

“Y-Yes, ma’... err, Applejack.”

“Applejack’s little sister is in that class, too,” Bon Bon added. Despite her best efforts, though, she couldn’t get him to stop staring at the little stall. She nudged him a little and gave him a look to speak his mind. He winced, embarrassed.

“Somethin' wrong, sugarcube?” 

“No, not really. It’s just that… you must have a really big family to get all those apples. That’s a lot of food for one family to make.”

The orange mare chuckled at that.  

“Aw, that’s sweet of you to say, Bastion, but it’s really just me and my brother who do the harvestin’. My little sister pitches in, too.”

Bon Bon noticed his wings buzzing nervously again at that. He went wide-eyed.  

“You get enough apples for the whole town? All on your own?” 

Applejack smiled warmly and leaned in a little closer. As she did, Bastion’s buzzing abated a little. Bon Bon couldn’t make much sense of the boy’s reactions. Was he embarrassed by her somehow?

“Yup. We have some get-togethers every few months, actually. You could come by sometime and see for yourself.”

He smiled brightly, finally relaxing around her.

“I-I’d love to. Thanks.” 

“Well, I suppose that’s a date, then,” Bon Bon announced as she turned to leave. “Applejack, I’ll see you around.”

Applejack tipped her hat to the pair.

“See you around, Bonsie, Bastion.”  

As they walked off, Bon Bon couldn’t shake the mild oddity of her son’s behaviour. 

“Why were you so nervous when you talked to Applejack?”

“I-I didn’t think she liked me,” he replied with his wings buzzing nervously again.

“Honey, she only just met you. You can’t expect to make a judgment like that with somepony you just met. And besides, she was nice, wasn’t she?”

Bastion was staring into the distance, completely lost in thought.

“Yeah. Does she really get that many apples with just her brother and sister?”

“Sure, on a daily basis, even. Why do you–“ she stopped herself from going any further. “Oh, now I get it. Your hive went hungry for a long time, didn’t they? You don’t understand where all this food is coming from.”

Bastion nodded, looking back at her.

“It’s just confusing. We didn’t have so many different foods, and I don’t see why Ponyville does. I thought ponies had to grow their own food, like changelings do.”  

“Ponies do grow their own food. There’s lots of farmers around to make sure we don’t go hungry.”

“And bakers,” Bastion remarked, looking up, “like you.”

“Yes, that too. Most of the time a pony follows their talent. If that involves growing things or making food, that’s what they do. And we’ve had a long time to learn how to grow more, so we don’t go hungry.”

“Do you think I could make food?” he asked out of the blue.

That question caught her by surprise.

“I don’t see why you couldn’t learn. You’ve got that little beehive already, that’s a good start. You got a nice bit of honey on your first day, that’s something even ponies can’t do so easily. Unless that's their special talent, I guess.”

The nervous expression on his face lightened, turning to a smile.  

“It is pretty fun. I think I might’ve overworked them a little, though.”

“They’ll be fine, Bastion. They have you to take care of them, remember? Which reminds me,” Bon Bon started, heading over to another stand, “you should thank mister Bumbles for that queen he got you.”

They got to the honey stand at the market, and the mare was about to say something, but she heard the oddest noise next to her. She snapped her head around to make sure she hadn’t been hearing things.

Did my boy just squee?





“Alright, class,” Cheerilee announced, “I’d like you to welcome a new student.  Why don’t you introduce yourself?”

The changeling stood in front of the class, twelve foals staring at him as he gulped. Everyone had name tags for him, which made things a little easier. Their eyes were a little unsettling, though. Some eyes darted to his face, some to his perforated wings, a few to his horn. The ones that went to the holes in his legs were the ones that made him really uncomfortable. Nevertheless, he steeled himself and took a deep breath.

“Hi, I’m Bastion. Bastion Pristin. Um, what am I supposed to say?” 

“Well, what do you like doing, where do you live?” Cheerilee offered.

“Oh, I live at the south end of town, and I like taking care of my beehive. My mom’s a baker, and she’s started showing me how to make honey waffles, I like doing that. I’m not very good at it, though, they all come out burnt.” The boy grimaced.

Scootaloo perked her ears at that. Their new classmate had a weird echo in his voice, or a double voice, but it wasn't as scary as she'd been led to believe.  

“Wait, you’re living with Bon Bon and Lyra, right?” 

“Yeah. My other mom’s a unicorn. She makes and fixes musical instruments, but I don’t think I should try that. It looks pretty hard.”

“You have two moms?” Diamond Tiara asked. “Isn’t that kind of weird?”

“Why would it be weird?” Rumble retorted. “If he asks ‘Mom, what’s for dinner?’ one of them’s bound to know, right?”

Cheerilee snickered to herself.  

“Quite right, Rumble. Anypony else have any questions?”

Diamond Tiara raised a hoof.

“Do you really feed on love?”

The changeling flinched a little at the question.

“Not just love. I eat and drink food, if that’s what you mean.”

“I think she means if you go hungry or get sick when your parents aren’t around,” the teacher tried.

“No, I don’t. It doesn’t really work that way. It’s more of a reserve kind of thing, and I mostly spend it with magic. I do need some every now and then, or I start falling apart. But I don’t use magic that much, so it’s not a problem.”

Scootaloo smiled when the boy’s eyes drifted to her, then turned her head. A little sound next to her drew her attention, and glancing next to her she realised Apple Bloom was moping about something. She was resting her head on her hoof, and her jaw looked clenched. It didn’t make much sense, but she guessed Apple Bloom just wasn’t too happy about the changeling in class. Still, at least he would be in good company.

“Alright then, Bastion. Why don’t you take a seat next to Diamond Tiara?”

Scootaloo winced. So much for good company.

Cheerilee took out her book and started narrating. “So today we’ll be talking about pony history…” 

The pegasus pony turned to the blackboard, ignoring Apple Bloom’s apparent frustration for now. If her friend was feeling down, she’d probably talk about it over recess, anyway. And at least the new kid tried to pay attention. He looked pretty riveted, actually. There was something off about the way he sat, she felt. He looked kind of stiff.

Then again, he did have skin plates, and on a first day of school everypony’s a little stiff with nerves.





“Anypony wanna play dodgeball?” Scootaloo called out.

“Okay,” Rumble replied with a shrug. “Three on three?”

“Sure,” Sweetie Belle replied. “Us three against you, Dinky and Shady?”

Rumble looked around as Dinky Doo came walking over.  

“I think Shady Daze is off taking pictures again. Hey, Bastion, you wanna play?”

The changeling looked left, then right, then slowly walked over to the five while the other foals played along.  

“Alright. How do you play this game?”

Rumble pointed to the lines of the field.

“You move around so you don’t get hit, but you stay in these white lines, and you throw a ball. If you get hit, you have to move to the opponent’s side of the field, behind their back line, and you’re out. You can get back in if you hit somepony again when the ball moves that far back. It doesn’t count if you just catch the ball. If the ball doesn’t hit the ground, you’re not out. The team that’s left standing wins.”

The changeling looked to the lines of the field, then to the opponents and the ball.  

“Got it.”

“All right,” Rumble started as Dinky Doo and Bastion flanked him, ”we’re ready.”

Scootaloo grinned and flung the ball at a bobbing and weaving Rumble. He took off from the ground to dodge it, letting the ball bounce harmlessly on the ground. Dinky Doo bolted towards it, picked it up and threw it right at Apple Bloom.  

Scootaloo barely heard a tap and a hum, then the ball was hovering in front of the changeling, covered in a green glow. He looked about as startled as most foals look when they get one of Apple Bloom’s patented cannon ball tosses their way.  He’d reacted pretty quickly, though.  

“Hey! No fair!” Apple Bloom objected. “You can’t use magic.”

“Oh, sorry.” Bastion set the ball down and grabbed it in his paws. He flew up next to the hovering Rumble to launch the thing again.

“And no using your wings either,” Apple Bloom continued.

“What? Why?” Dinky asked.

“Because it’s not fair,” Apple Bloom replied. “We’ve got one pegasus pony, one unicorn and one Earth pony. You’ve got a pegasus pony and a unicorn, so Bastion counts as an Earth pony.”

Bastion nodded in agreement.

“Okay, that sounds fair. So I count as an Earth pony, right? No magic, no wings.”

Scootaloo looked disapprovingly at her friend, but she didn’t speak up. Even when the changeling removed his horn and wings with little green flames, she just suppressed a sigh. It was only Bastion’s first day, and Apple Bloom wasn’t being very nice so far. Sweetie Belle’s pouted in agreement, but neither of them wanted to call her out on it in front of everyone, least of all in front of the changeling.

Bastion got on his hind feet again and threw the ball to Sweetie Belle as she ducked. Before she could react, Apple Bloom had planted herself in between the unicorn and the ball and caught it.  

Dinkie Doo was close enough to score a hit, and she wasn’t moving back and forth too quickly. Still Apple Bloom flung the ball at Bastion, catching the changeling off guard just as he ducked to the left.  

He took the projectile to his stomach, arms wrapping around it in a reflex as the impact sent him flying. The changeling was knocked on his back and skidded to a halt on the ground.  

“What is your problem?” Rumble asked. “Go easy on him, will you?”

Apple Bloom swallowed whatever it was she was going to say and trotted over to the prone changeling. She heard a vague hiss, and saw an edge of his elbow sticking into the ball.  

“I think I popped a hole in your ball. Sorry.”

Apple Bloom smiled and shook her head.

“That's okay, it’s just a ball. I’m sorry I threw it so hard; I thought you had Earth pony strength, too. I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

He got up with a cough.  

“No, I’m fine, don’t worry. Honest mistake, I should have said so. I’m really sorry about the ball. I’ll fix it for you.”

“You don’t have to, Bastion, but if you really think you have to, knock yourself out.”

Realising the game was over, Bastion conjured his wings and horn back.  

Diamond Tiara snuck up on the boy, flanking him from behind. 

“Hey, Bastion, you can turn into ponies, right? Would you mind showing us?”

Scootaloo looked around in confusion as she noticed the other foals in school were watching the new kid.  

“I don’t know if I should. My mom says I’m not supposed to.”

“Come on, we’ve never seen a changeling change shape before. Try turning into me!” Silver Spoon shouted excitedly.  

The changeling winced at the sudden request. Rumble seemed to agree.  

“Silver Spoon, you don’t ask a boy to turn into a girl. Would you like it if I asked you to turn into Snails?” 

“Eww, gross!” The filly stuck out her tongue in disgust.

“Hey!” Snails called out, offended.

“How about turning into Rumble?” Diamond Tiara asked. “Just to see what it looks like.”

Bastion looked to the colt next to him, who just shrugged. With a sigh and a squint, the changeling wrapped himself in green flame that went from the tips of his paws to the edge of his nose. When the flames cleared, a second Rumble was standing there.  

For reasons she wouldn’t understand for about five more years, Scootaloo’s wings suddenly felt a lot more rigid.  

“Cool,” Rumble admitted.

“What would Rumble look like if he was an alicorn?” Sweetie Belle blurted out.

“A what?” the disguised boy asked, even getting the voice right.

“Like that, but with a horn,” the filly replied, tapping her own horn to illustrate.

Clenching his eyes shut, the boy reluctantly put a horn on his ensemble. Scootaloo shot Apple Bloom a weird look as some of the other fillies started calling out their suggestions. The original Rumble didn’t really know what to make of all the attention, by the looks of it. Apple Bloom just shook her head and seemed to be restraining herself from saying anything. Bastion kept conjuring his green flames and doing what he was asked to do, always keeping the same basic shape but with little alterations in proportion, colour, and species.   

And somehow, before anyone knew what was going on, there was a black alicorn with a red mane and tail standing in the playground. He looked vaguely like Rumble, but the red slit eyes were a bit over the top, not to mention his bat wings.  

“Okay, I think we’re getting a little carried away here. Maybe you should turn back,” Rumble suggested.

With another green flash, Bastion transformed into a grey colt with a dark grey mane and purple eyes. He’d shed his wings and horn, but had kept parts of the disguise. Scootaloo raised an eyebrow at that. It almost looked like the changeling suddenly had trouble shifting his shape, and had gotten stuck in an Earth pony Rumble form. Another squint, and the holed legs and gauzy wings returned along with the rest of the changeling’s shape.  

Diamond patted him on the back.

“That was pretty fun to watch, Bastion. You’ve got a really cool talent. Better than any of the blank flanks around here.”

Rumble and the Cutie Mark Crusaders huffed a little. The school bell interrupted any retort, though, and Silver Spoon and Diamond Tiara herded the boy to class, flanking him while he kept the busted ball on his back.  

Scootaloo shook her head in thought as Rumble and the rest followed. She looked to Apple Bloom.

“Did you really think Bastion had Earth pony strength?”

“Of course I did. I don’t see why he doesn’t.”

“You did throw that ball pretty hard at him, twice,” Sweetie Belle remarked.

“Look, I always aim for Shady Daze when he plays. I’m supposed to hit hard and aim for the hard hitter on the other team. It’s how we always play, and it’s fair. So what’s the big deal?” 

“You never complained about me using magic, Apple Bloom, or about Rumble flying, even though your friends can’t do either,” Dinky said. “Are you sure you’re not being a little harsh on him?”

“What? We always play with one of each, how else is it supposed to be fair?” the filly objected.

Scootaloo rolled her eyes as they got back to class.  





“Okay, class, that leaves just one more thing: a special homework assignment. For the next two weeks I’d like you to put up your own little business to see if you can make money. You don’t have to start right away, you don’t even need to use all the time you have, but in two weeks I’ll be expecting an essay about what you did.”

“Does that mean we have to work?” Diamond Tiara asked with more than a hint of outrage.

“You’re welcome to put as much effort into it as you like, as long as you can explain why something works or not. I’ve talked to some of the other ponies in town, you can ask for help if you feel like making or selling things. Your parents or siblings can help, too. But no garage sales; that’s not the point of this. What matters is that you get a taste of enterprise, and maybe get to use some talents you didn’t realise you had.”

Apple Bloom lit up at the mention of talents, as did Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle.  

“You’re also allowed to work in groups, if you think that will make things easier. But I’ll still expect one essay per student, two pages minimum. It doesn’t even matter how much money you make. Whatever you try, make sure you understand why it worked or not. So, if there are no more questions, I take it some of you know who you’ll be working with?” 

“We’re working together,” the Cutie Mark Crusaders attested with a raised hoof.  

Smiling knowingly, Cheerilee jotted down a first group.  

“I think I’m gonna work alone,” Rumble called out.  

“Me too,” Twist spoke up, “I can probably sell cinnamon sweets alright.”

The foals who hadn’t joined a group yet muttered among each other. Silver Spoon and Diamond Tiara grumbled a little, which caught Scootaloo’s attention. She turned to her fellow Crusaders and whispered.

“Maybe we should ask the new kid to join us?”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Apple Bloom replied with a worried look.

“Why not? He’s a blank flank, like us,” Sweetie Belle remarked.

“He’s a changeling,” Apple Bloom retorted, “his flank’s supposed to be blank.”

“I’ll join Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon, if that’s okay with them,” Bastion announced.

Scootaloo turned her head away from the huddle and to the new kid, before settling on Diamond Tiara. The pink filly looked at the changeling for a little while, then shrugged.

“Sure. If you can come up with an idea by tomorrow, we’re all ears.”

Apple Bloom leaned in to whisper.

“See? Problem solved.”

The pegasus filly sighed. Bastion didn’t notice anything, to her relief. He just looked towards his team mates and ignored the Crusaders. Still, Apple Bloom wasn’t acting like herself today. It didn’t feel right.  





“Scootaloo, would you mind walking Bastion home?” Cheerilee asked quietly as the rest of the foals raced out through the door.

“Um, why? Doesn’t he know the way?”

Bastion walked up to the girl, shrugging.

“It’s kind of embarrassing, but I’m not supposed to walk around town alone. Ever.”

Cheerilee smiled at the fact that the boy was speaking up.  

“It’s just a silly rule, nothing more. You always head his way before you go to Sweet Apple Acres, don’t you, Scootaloo?” 

“Yeah, sure, I don’t mind.”

“Thanks.”

“And don’t worry about keeping up in class, Bastion; tomorrow we review math. I hear you’re quite good at that?” Cheerilee asked.

The boy blushed.

“Umm… sort of.” 

Scootaloo shook her head and got on her scooter, quickly making good their escape. The changeling buzzed along, flying slightly higher than her shoulder and keeping up with her brisk pace. She slowed down to talk, motioning for him to quiet his wings like her. He settled down and walked along as she pushed her scooter forward with just her hooves.

“Sorry about Apple Bloom. She’s really nice, but I think she might need a little time to get used to you. It’s nothing personal.”

“That’s okay; it’s only my first day.”

“And if the grownups are embarrassing you, try not to let it bother you too much. They do that sometimes, it’ll pass.”

He stopped and coughed.  

“You okay?” On closer inspection, the changeling looked like his skin was getting a little damp. Some of his shine was dulling.  

“Just a little tickle in my throat. But what’s the rest of your class like? Is Diamond Tiara nice?”

Resuming the pace, Scootaloo cleared her throat at that one.

“I guess that depends. She’s not nice to me or my friends, but she might be to you. Just be careful she doesn’t set you up. She can get you in trouble.”

“Alright, I’ll try to keep that in mind,” the changeling replied with another cough. “What about Rumble? I guess everyone likes him?”

Scootaloo perked her ears and looked at him intently.

“Why would you say that?” 

“Well, everyone liked it when I turned into him, and you like him a lot.”  

“Whoa, stop right there.” She extended her hoof to make sure he slowed down with her. “You think I like Rumble or I love Rumble?”

“I’d guess it’s love? It sure looked like it.”

“Bastion, I do not love Rumble. I don’t even like him like that.”

“Really?” The boy backed off, surprised. “But I noticed you when I turned into him. I thought you blushed.”

“What? No, I didn’t, why would you even- oh, right. I guess you would look out for that sort of thing.”

Bastion blushed.

“Sorry. It’s kind of a survival instinct, but I guess it’s not perfect. I never really got to practise it, so I don’t know what it means to you, exactly, but I thought you liked Rumble a lot. So don’t you?”

Scootaloo sighed.

“Look, Bastion, I don’t know how you think things work, but if you don’t want to upset ponies, you don’t go telling them you think they like or love somepony. That’s personal, and usually secret,” Scootaloo warned. “I don’t like Rumble, not the way you think I do. And even if I did, you can’t be that blunt about it. If you do that with anypony else, they’re going to get angry at you.”

“But they talk like that in movies. It’s okay there. Is that one of those things that’s not real? I thought I could tell the difference.”

“Yes, that’s definitely a movie thing. And I don’t know what you noticed about me, but it doesn’t mean that much.”

“Oh. Sorry.” He cringed at his mistake.

Scootaloo shrugged, resuming the pace.  

“No problem. I guess you can’t really know how things work around here, huh?”

“I didn’t really have anyone to compare with. Most of our hive was all drones, and I never had to blend in with ponies. It’s a lot to take in. I mean, I can tell a couple things from looking at a pony, I just don’t know what to make of it, or what to say about it. I’m worried I’ll keep messing up, you know?”

“I’m sure you’ll get it. Don’t worry; a lot of ponies are pretty weird, too. And you’re learning fast for someone who’s never been around ponies. You’re a lot less uptight than I thought you’d be, and you didn’t seem to have any trouble in class, even though it was your first day in any pony school. Besides, the way you look now is what you normally look like, right?”

He coughed again before turning to her, slowing down when his stop came into view.

“Yeah, it is. Why?”

“You don’t look dumb to me.” 

Lyra came trotting out from the little brewery across the street, waving to Berry Punch as she left. Her expression went from flashing a smile to looking worried. She sighed at the two as Bastion smiled nervously.

“Bastion, did you change shape?”

He hung his head in shame, smile fading.

“Yes.”

Lyra put a hoof to his forehead and by Scootaloo’s reckoning she did not like what she felt.

“What did we tell you, honey?”

“No changing shape,” he replied morosely.  

“That’s right. You see what happens when you don’t listen?” The unicorn kissed his forehead to confirm what the sweaty beads on his face already suggested: he was running a fever.  

“I’m sorry,” Bastion said, keeping his head low.

“It’s okay. But now you know, right?”

“It’s not his fault, Lyra. The other kids asked him to do it. He was just trying to show what he could do,” Scootaloo explained.  

Bastion didn’t look up. He just kept looking at the ground, like he thought he was about to get shouted at.

“Of course. I knew I forgot to tell Cheerilee something. Thanks for walking him home, Scootaloo. Could you tell your classmates he’s strictly not allowed to change shape?”

“Sure, but why?”

The mint green unicorn ushered the silent boy in as she spoke.

“He had his shots pretty recently. If he turns into a different species, his immune system changes too. Right now he can’t turn into any kind of pony. He can only turn into a sick pony.”

“What?” Scootaloo gasped. “Oh, no, sorry. Bastion, you should have said something.”

Lyra stood in the doorway as the boy got in without a word.  

“It’s not that big a deal, but make sure the others know, alright?” Lyra asked with a warm smile.

Scootaloo nodded as she started flapping her wings to speed up.

“I will. See you later, Bastion!” 

“See you tomorrow, Scootaloo!” Bastion called out, before breaking out into coughs.  

Lyra sighed.

“Come on, little prince, you go lie down while I get you some aspirin.”

With her back turned and her ears suddenly perking, Scootaloo blinked as Lyra’s words registered in her mind.  

Little prince?

She shook her head and kept going.

“Nah, couldn’t be.”





Lyra kept her son close to her as his fever started dropping.

“Much better. Try to be a little more careful next time, okay?”

“I will, mom. Thanks.” He nuzzled her neck and hugged her as tight as he dared, clenching his eyes shut with a quiver.

“It’s okay, honey. Little mistake on your first day, no biggie. But now you know, right?” Lyra tried, keeping her voice calm and soothing. The boy’s body unwound as her words sunk in. He nodded, keeping her close in his hug. She rubbed over those parchment wings, and right in between the spot where they sprouted, a little nerve spot she’d quickly learned was a good way to get him to relax and stay still.

“So how was your day? Did you make any new friends?” 

“Lots. I played dodgeball with Sweetie Belle and her friends. But then Apple Bloom got me in the stomach. It didn't hurt, but I accidentally popped a hole in her ball. I think my spurs are still a little sharp. Can we fix Apple Bloom's ball?”

Floating the deflated toy over with her magic, Lyra nodded.  

“Doesn’t look that hard. What about class? Did you like that?”

“Uh huh. We had pony history. I don’t even know where to start.”

She playfully rubbed his mane with a chuckle.

“Any homework?”

“We got one assignment; setting up a little business to see if we can make money. I teamed up with Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon.”

“Good call. They would know how to go about that sort of thing. And you were thinking you could sell changeling blood, right?” Lyra asked with a knowing grin.  

He shivered.

“I don’t think I really should, but it’s kind of the only thing I’ve got. And you did like it, right? Do you think ponies would like me if I tried selling that?” 

“I know they would, honey. It’s a tasty treat, and it’s definitely something we don’t get very often around here. And it’s not like you’re going to run out any time soon, right? You’ve got a pretty good stock to start off with. You could make quite a bit of it, say it’s something rare and special just for the ponies in Ponyville. Get it to a few ponies who try, and then they’ll get other ponies interested. In a town like this, I’d bet you’ll almost run out in three days.”

“You mean it? I don’t know if it’s that good. And I wouldn’t know how to sell anything to ponies. I thought maybe I could ask Berry Punch from across the street? Would she help?” 

“Sure. She already had a taste, she said she liked it. And she agreed to take care of that little care package Ramp sent you. No reason to think she’d refuse, right?”

“No, I guess not,” he admitted, turning his head away with a blush.

“Don’t worry about it, Bastion. It’s a great idea, you should try it. It’s a good way to get known in town. If you just try and be smart about it, it’ll let you make new friends.” Lyra hugged him a little tighter.

The changeling rested his head against the unicorn’s chest, content in the warm embrace.  

“Okay. I’ll get Diamond and Silver to try it. If they like it, I’ll ask Berry if she can start bottling as much as I can spare. I should have enough for about a hundred bottles if I get a good mix, right?”

“That’s a good boy.  Berry Punch will get you a good mix, you just have to ask, and Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon will know how to sell it. I’m sure everypony will like it. And they’ll definitely like you when you come with something that tasty.” 

He smiled and closed his eyes, then nodded off. Lyra kissed his cooled-down forehead, and decided to just hold him like that ‘till Bon Bon got home. She could feel his heartbeat, all fluttery and excited about the day’s events. Even stroking his wings, she could feel the little quiver in his body.

“You rest up now, my little prince. Can’t have those big plans running wild in your little head.”
> Market Penetration
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Chapter 3: Market Penetration

Bastion flew over to the pink Earth pony filly, waving to his Earth pony mom as he went out the door. His backpack unbalanced him slightly as the weight shifted around, forcing him to fly in an awkward posture but not really pushing him down too much.  

“Hi, Bastion,” the filly greeted.  

“Uh, hi. It’s Pinna, right? You’re Berry Punch’s sister?” 

“It’s Peenya, Piña Colada. And yeah, Berry’s my big sis. Why do you ask? You’ve got an idea for the assignment?” 

“Sort of, but I don’t know if it’s a good one, and Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon might not like it.  Do you have any ideas?”

“Not yet, but my sister’s got plenty of recipes for drinks I can try. So what’s your idea?” 

“Selling a drink, like you. Your sister already had a sip and she didn’t think it was too bad, but I guess she’d have different tastes, what with her work and all.”

The filly perked her ears.

“Oh, and you’re wondering if other ponies would like it, right? If you’ve got some, I could try it for you.”

“Thanks,” he answered nervously, getting out a little bottle from his backpack. “It’s this. It’s kind of a special thing changelings make. You’re not allergic to anything, are you?”

“No,” the filly replied, before raising an eyebrow in thought. “Do changelings ever get allergies?”

“Not really. It’s something that comes with a shape, so we can switch it on and off like that. And we have a herbal remedy for anyone born with it in their normal form.”

The filly stopped and inspected the plastic bottle. He’d just taken a normal water bottle and filled it up with a reddish liquid, from the looks of it. Holding it up to inspect, she figured it looked like some kind of red berry lemonade, a light fizz forming on top.

“Did you make this all on your own?” She had just a hint of surprise in her voice.

“Kind of. I tried to make it like I remember, but I never made it myself back at the Hive. I had to work from taste, and the mix might be a little off. Your sister still liked it, though.”

“So this is from that care package they sent you,” Piña remarked.

“Part of the mix is. Ramp, one of the advisors, sent me a of couple things to help feel at home. I don’t really know what I’m supposed to do with it, so I thought ‘Might as well try this’.”

“Well, it looks pretty good.” After uncapping the bottle, Piña took a swig. She licked her lips, then looked at the red liquid. “It’s a little too sweet, but it’s pretty tasty. You’re planning to sell this? Can you make more of it, I mean?”

“Uh huh. But I was hoping to ask your sister about mixing it up a little better. You like it?”

The filly nodded, before returning the bottle and resuming her walk to school.  

“It’s different, but it’s good. If you know the name, I think Berry could look up the right recipe. She’s got lots of books, even stuff you can’t find in the library. I wouldn’t even mind selling it for you, if you could get more.”

He blushed.

“That was what you were thinking, right? Cover more ground to sell to more ponies?” the filly continued coyly. She smirked a little at his shy reaction.

“Yes, actually. Your sister said you live on the west end of Ponyville? I mean, if you don’t mind, you could sell to ponies in that part of town. It’d save us some time.”

“Yeah, it’s a good idea. Miss Cheerilee said we were allowed to get help. I could sell your stuff along with whatever I decide to make, if you keep the price fair."   

“So umm… why did you come all the way over here, if you live on the other end of town?” the boy asked softly, trying to keep the conversation going. 

“To pick up my special lunch; my sister makes the best banana jam. What about you?”

“What about me?” Bastion cringed a little at the question, embarrassed.

“Your mom was going to walk you to school, I noticed. And I saw you yesterday. You went home with Scootaloo. Why would she have to walk you home Are you scared of anything?”

He averted his gaze.

“It’s just a rule. I’m not supposed to walk around town alone. Ever. It’s a long story.”

“No problem. If Scootaloo doesn’t feel like it, I can walk you home sometime. You could explain it then.”

He stopped to stare at her a little at that.

“What? With something like that, ponies are gonna find out sooner or later, and they won’t mind when they do, trust me. A lot of ponies around here are a little weird like that. And you know, your moms have kind of a reputation, too. You probably don’t know this, but… Lyra’s been known to just totally freak out sometimes, and Bon Bon can be –“

Bastion gulped when no more words came.

“I’m sorry. I really shouldn’t badmouth your moms.” Piña blushed and tried to hide her embarrassment with a smile.

“It’s okay. I mean, I am still getting to know them. If anything ever goes wrong and they get upset, a little warning of what might happen would be nice. So what does my Earth pony mom do?”

“Nothing bad, but she just has this habit of being a little snappy with ponies. She can say some mean things when she gets annoyed, but she doesn’t mean it.”

Bastion weighed her words in his head.

“Oh. Really? I haven’t noticed that at all. And she’s gotten a little annoyed with me around.”

She smiled.

“I guess you’re just a good influence, then.”

“Thanks,” the boy replied with a nervous tone.

“And if you don’t feel like talking, you know you don’t really have to, right?” Piña leaned in a little, just to make him feel easier.

“I know. It’s just complicated, and I kinda want to get life going here before I start talking about my old life. It’s just been going a little fast, if that makes any sense.”

The school came into view in the distance, some pegasus foals already flying in.  

“Makes perfect sense. Don’t worry; Ponyville’s a nice place. You’ll fit right in if you just try.”

Bastion nodded. From the filly’s perspective, it almost looked like he was clenching his teeth.

“Soo… are you gonna tell me what I just drank? I might know it.” She leaned in again with an encouraging smile.

Bastion gulped in some air.

“Umm… it’s changeling blood.”





“Now then, class, let’s review our tables of multiplication,” Cheerilee started, ”Two times ten is?”

“Twenty,” the whole class slowly recounted. They almost seemed to drone their response, as was the norm for things they’d repeated time and time again. Though it didn’t exactly sound enthusiastic, at least the children always gave their answer in time with each other. It was a routine they’d all learned. Question, breathe in, answer, always in the same steady rhythm.  

“Six times four is?” 

“Twenty-four,” they all sounded in unison, slowly and calmly. All except Bastion, that is. Cheerilee looked at him with a gentle smile.

“Bastion, you do know your tables of multiplication, right?” Cheerilee asked as she looked at the quiet boy.

“Yes, I do.” He shuffled nervously in his seat, his eyes darting towards the exit.

“Then join in with the class. We’re just going over some simple questions. So, class, six times five?” the teacher asked again.

“Thirty,” Bastion replied before anyone could get a word in. All of a sudden, his eyes got fixed on the teacher.  

The class fell silent.  

“Right. Nine times six?” Cheerilee asked the class.

“Fifty-four,” the changeling answered in a flash, like he didn’t even have to think about it.  

Scootaloo turned her head his way to check. His posture was less stiff than yesterday, but his eyes looked weird. He looked out of it, and his blinks were slower than normal. Cheerilee stared at him for a moment, then took a deep breath as she tensed up.  

“Nine times thirty-six?” she continued, speaking quicker.

“Three hundred twenty-four,” the changeling replied, again rushing to it like it was a pop quiz or something. Scootaloo was getting worried at this point.  

“Twenty-three times forty-two?” Cheerilee asked in her rushed tone, completely ignoring the rest of the class by now.

“Nine hundred sixty-six,” came another quick reply.

Cheerilee didn’t even bother pausing to think if he was right, she just fired her next question.

“One hundred seventy four times twenty-nine?”

Bastion grimaced, then started rubbing his head. He shuffled in his seat and bared his teeth as some sort of pain seemed to shoot through his head, judging from how he twitched. His breath quickened and his wings filled the room with a flickering buzz.

“I-I don’t know…” he stammered, suppressing a sob.  

Cheerilee nodded and smiled, but it did nothing to hide the obvious tension.

“It’s alright, Bastion. That’s a little advanced for this class, but I can see you’ve had a good head start. Alright, class, take your books out and we’ll start doing some practical problems.”

As the foals shuffled through their bags to get their books out, Scootaloo kept stealing glances towards Bastion and Cheerilee. Their teacher was looking a little shaken for some reason. Everypony else noticed it, too, but Apple Bloom didn’t seem to care, and Piña Colada looked almost sad at the reaction the boy had gotten.  

The pegasus filly turned her attention to the exercise at hoof, another marketplace example like the ones they’d been doing the past few weeks. Bastion floated his pencil over the draft papers as the foals worked it out, moving furiously as he rushed to get the answer long before anyone else did.  

Scootaloo shook her head and focused on her task. It took her a while to get all the numbers figured out, but she finished with her answer about as fast as everypony else. Yet when she looked up again, she noticed the oddest thing; Bastion had dropped his pencil from any magic hold and was trying to write with his mouth. Granted, that was how most ponies wrote, but from the looks of it he wasn’t managing much more than a few messy squiggles. It almost looked like he wanted to mimic the rest of class somehow.

The orange filly turned her head towards the blackboard, determined not to let him distract her. There was something weird about him, though, she was sure of it.





The bell sounded, marking break time. The foals all got up from their benches, but Bastion stopped Apple Bloom before she could make good her exit. He handed her the ball he’d popped the other day.

“Here, I fixed your ball. Sorry again.”

She stared at him blankly, then reluctantly accepted her ball.

“I told you, Bastion, it’s just a ball. Stop making a fuss about it and just be careful next time, alright? I’ll be careful with you, too.”

“You don’t have to. You said I count as an Earth pony, so we’ll play like I’m an Earth pony. That’s fair, right?”

Scootaloo raised an eyebrow at her friend’s behaviour. Apple Bloom kept her back turned to the changeling as she rolled her eyes, like she honestly didn’t give a flying feather about what he had to say. She was being downright rude, and Bastion didn’t even realise it. Scootaloo looked at Sweetie Belle as the rest of class had already streamed out to play.  

They were both thinking the same thing, she was sure of it.

“What’s gotten into Apple Bloom?”

“Bastion? Could I please have a word with you?” Cheerilee asked, snapping the girls out of their reverie.  

The changeling lowered his ears at the mare’s tone, cringing a little. He turned away from the door just as the Cutie Mark Crusaders went outside, making Scootaloo wonder if he’d done something wrong. He’d answered pretty quickly, but somehow she didn’t think that would be an issue. She didn’t want to eavesdrop, though, not with her teacher and the new kid involved.  

Cheerilee closed the door behind them, and checked the window to ensure no one else would hear.

“You know why I want to talk to you, don’t you?”

He shivered as he nodded.

“I answered too quickly. I’m sorry, I didn’t know I was supposed to wait.”

“You’re not, Bastion. It’s good that you want to answer right away, but I’m just a bit concerned.  Lyra told me about what sort of lessons you got at your hive. You were taught to think quick, right? Rapid-fire questions, fast answers?” She kept her voice as even as she could, a necessity when dealing with a touchy subject like this one. Some fear slipped through, though, and the changeling’s wings buzzed nervously as he caught it.

The boy nodded with a wince.  

“That’s bad, huh?” 

Cheerilee took a deep breath, looking for the right words.

“Yes. It is actually a bad thing, in some ways. It’s good in some other ways, though. You’re very good at maths, that’s a plus.  Even a lot of adult ponies can’t count that fast without an abacus.”

“So I’m smarter because of the way they taught me? Do you teach that way sometimes, then?” he asked, smiling hopefully. 

“No.  Here we let you think about the answer, even if it’s a test.  The other way is… well, bad.”

“Does that mean that I’m bad?”

“No, Bastion, no, not at all. It just means someone tried to teach you bad habit, nothing more,” the mare explained.

“But I am smart, right? Do I need to be less smart? I could give a wrong answer sometimes to make up for it.”  

“No. Look,” she started, lying down to get to his eye level. “The problem isn’t your answers, it’s the fact that you answer so quickly. You answer without thinking about it.”

He frowned in confusion.

“But I’m still right, aren’t I?” 

“Yes, but you’ve gotten into the habit of answering without thinking. You’ve gotten used to a conditioned response. While that does mean you learned a lot of things and you can think quickly, it’s not a very good habit for you.”

“Really? How come?”

Cheerilee bit her lip. She averted her gaze for a moment, before steeling her resolve.

“If you make a habit of doing things without thinking, it’s a lot easier to stop thinking altogether. Do you understand why that’s a problem?”

He gave her a confused look.

“No?” 

“Let me ask you this, then: do you feel any different when you start thinking so quickly? Does answering so fast make you feel any smarter or happy with the praise?” She kept a close eye on his reaction, particularly his body language. He was tense, but not rigid, not yet. 

The changeling grimaced at the thought, and his wings buzzed again with nerves.

“No, it doesn’t. It’s just something I do. I don’t really feel anything. Like it’s mechanical.”

“That is the problem, right there. That sort of pressure and conditioning makes it easier to turn you into something you’re not, because it dulls your feelings. With that sort of teaching, it becomes easier for you to do things you’re told to do, even if they’re bad. And it’s possible you start doing things you don’t even realise are bad.”

“Like a drone,” he concluded.

Reluctantly, the mare nodded.

“Yes. Like a drone.”

“So I don’t think normal, even though I never had a spell cast on me.  I don’t have to leave, do I?”

“No, you do not have to leave. You’re not bad and you haven’t been conditioned too far. The fact that you have likes and dislikes is proof enough that you can still think for yourself. They probably just taught you like that because it was easier, and to make sure you would obey without having to wipe your mind. But I need to know what else you were taught, Bastion. What sort of questions did you have to answer right away like that? Aside from calculations?”

Bastion sighed and furrowed his brow as he tried to bring it all to mind. He looked away and shrugged.

“Just random stuff from training. What positions I’m supposed to take, where to hit, techniques and counters. I never really had to use any of it, but it’s all there, I guess.”

“Techniques and counters? You mean you were taught how to fight,” Cheerilee deduced.

Gulping nervously, the changeling nodded.

“I suppose you would, in your position.  But you know you’re not supposed to fight ponies, right?” 

“Of course I know,” he objected.  “I like ponies, I don’t wanna fight any of them.”

Cheerilee smiled at him.  

“So you won’t go hurting others without warning. That’s good. Anything else? Any rules they thought you should follow?”

“Just some things about how to act. What makes a good changeling, why we’re -- why they thought they were better. Most of that didn’t seem right, though.  My uncle, he…”

“He knew better, and he taught you everything you know,” Cheerilee finished. An awkward silence fell between them for a moment. “Listen, I know what happened, and I know it must be painful. You don’t have to talk about that if you don’t want to. I just need to know: what were you taught to do without thinking? Did you ever have to do anything that felt wrong? Or anything that feels wrong now? It’s alright if you have, but I need to know if you might start doing it again without realising. If I know, then I know what to look out for and there won’t be any trouble. Was there ever anything that feels wrong now?”

He breathed a little quicker at that.  

“No. I don’t think so. I never had to hurt anyone, not for real. I just had to memorise stuff and say it really fast, and I trained to fight, sort of, but I never really hurt my sparring partner. It’s just stuff, and it doesn’t really bother me. If that’s bad, then I guess I should fix it, but what am I supposed to do about it?”

The mare patted him on the head to comfort him as she got back up.

“Just try to hold on to yourself. You don’t have to answer that fast in class, you can keep quiet if I’m not talking directly to you. Try to be careful. You might feel yourself slipping away if you start going into that conditioned response again, but as long as you can still feel, it’ll be alright. Find something to do that makes you happy, and it’ll pass. You’ll outgrow it in time.”

“Something that makes me happy? You mean like a pony talent?”

She chuckled.  

“Yes, like a pony talent. Speaking of which, have you thought of something for the assignment yet?”

“Yes, I have. I haven’t asked Diamond Tiara or Silver Spoon yet, but I thought I could sell a drink.  It’s a special recipe.”

“Oh? A changeling specialty, by any chance?”

“Sort of. I’ve had some ponies try it, and they liked it. I’m going to ask Berry Punch to help with it, and Piña Colada said she wouldn’t mind selling it.”

“Well, then, I might just drop by sometime to try it.”

The boy cheered up at that, his wings rising up.  

“That’d be great, if I can get the blend right. I’m still getting the hang of it, but… I’m sure you’ll like it if you try.”

“I’m sure I will, Bastion. Now, off you go. Enjoy what’s left of your break.”

With a wide smile and a nod, he flew out.





“Alright, Cutie Mark Crusaders, we need to find something to make money and impress miss Cheerilee, and if we do it right, we might even get our cutie marks!” Apple Bloom announced, her voice making the clubhouse shudder. “So, anyone come up with any ideas?”

“We could do our own beauty parlour,” Sweetie Belle offered.

“Except there’s already a beauty parlour in Ponyville, and it didn’t work out that well last time we tried it,” Scootaloo replied. “We could try deliveries.  I can get around Ponyville pretty quick.”

“But we need somethin’ to deliver for that to work. I guess the best idea would be to sell something.  But what could we sell?” Apple Bloom asked, sending the three fillies into a bout of brainstorming.

“Well, it can’t be anything that anypony’s selling already, that’d never work,” the pegasus remarked. “Maybe something we can turn it into something else. Like food, maybe?”

“And it needs to be made from something we can get a lot of, so it’s not that bad if we mess it up,” Sweetie Belle added.  

“Hmm…” Apple Bloom thought.  

Just as the little Earth pony realised she came from a family of apple farmers, and in fact lived on an apple orchard, an idea popped into her head.

“We could sell something with apples!”

Scootaloo looked at her friend, then outside at all the apple trees.

“Sure, we could do something obvious. I guess if you haven’t gotten an apple cutie mark yet, we might get one.”

The yellow filly glared just a little at that remark.

“Howdie, Cutie Mark Crusaders,” Applejack greeted as she came in with a tray of small bottles. “Got a plan for the assignment?”

“We were thinking about selling something with apples,” Apple Bloom replied.

“That would be the easiest thing to do, Apple Bloom. But what would you sell?” 
“We could make apple juice,” Apple Bloom suggested after taking a sip. “That press still works okay, right?”

“Sure, you girls could do that. But you can’t call it ‘cider’. You know that, right?” 

“I know, I know. It’s not cider if it’s not crushed by a millstone, and we don’t break that one out before cider season.”

“So it’s okay if we use the apples from the orchard?” Sweetie Belle asked.

“Sure. You can use whatever you want from the west orchard.”

Apple Bloom nearly choked on her juice when she heard that.

“T-the west orchard? Really?”

“You want to sell your own apples, you can get them down from the trees yourself.” Applejack winked. “You’ll be fine. Those trees are heavy with juicier apples, so it won’t be that hard to get them down if you just shake the branches with a rope. And they are better for what you want.”

“I guess, but… the west orchard?” Apple Bloom asked again.

“What’s wrong with the west orchard?” Scootaloo asked with an air of dread.

“Oh, it’s nothin’ to worry about.”

“Nothin’ to worry about? We haven’t harvested that part since the fruit bats moved in!” Apple Bloom objected.

“Fruit bats?” Sweetie Belle inquired.

“They’re pretty friendly, actually. You just need to be careful, is all. Make sure you use a basket with a lid when you harvest, and you’ll be fine.”

Apple Bloom looked at her friends, and all three shrugged at the same time.

“If you say so,” Apple Bloom said, sounding a little uncertain.





The fillies lay exhausted next to the press.

“Okay. That’s the last of ‘em. One hundred and fifty bottles of apple juice.” Apple Bloom held up her front hooves. Right on cue, she got a pair of hoofbumps.

“And a whole swarm of angry fruit bats,” Scootaloo remarked.

“It wasn’t that bad: they didn’t chase us all the way,” Sweetie Belle replied.  

“You mean they gave up when they got some of the apples back,” Scootaloo retorted.  

“That too.”

“Anyway, we’re done. Everything’s bottled, we can set up a little stall tomorrow,” Apple Bloom concluded.

“Yeah. So what do you think Bastion’s going to do?” Sweetie Belle asked.

Apple Bloom slapped herself.

“What does it matter what Bastion is going to do? He’s with Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon, they’ll probably just have him sell something Filthy Rich can’t get rid of,” the Earth filly replied, annoyed.

“What is your problem with Bastion?” Scootaloo's frustration started to return.

“I do not have a problem with Bastion. If he comes up with something good, we’ll see it, won’t we?”

Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle exchanged a glance, then shrugged.  

“If you say so,” the pegasus said with a sigh.

The trio heard the sound of hooves approaching the shed.  

“Hey, girls. All done?” Applejack asked as she entered.

“Eeyup. One hundred and fifty bottles of Sweet Apple Acres Apple Juice ready to sell.” Apple Bloom smirked proudly.

“You mean after you label them, right?” 

“Label them?” The filly’s ears drooped at the mention.

“You can’t sell food or drink if ponies don’t know what’s in it. The printing press is right over there,” The mare pointed a hoof to a machine in the back. It sported a fine set of prints, some sheets of paper, but no finished labels as yet. It looked pretty much like the apple press, version 2.0.

All at once, the fillies groaned and collapsed.

Applejack smiled with sympathy.

“Why don’t you save that for tomorrow, huh? You’ve been at it for hours, you should stop for the day.”

Reluctantly, the three got up.

“I guess you’re right,” Apple Bloom conceded. “We did get a lot done. Especially for workin’ in the west orchard.”

“That you did, but you should get home. Sweetie Belle, I think Rarity’s come to pick you up.”

“Rarity’s here?” the unicorn filly asked. “Are you sure?”

From outside, the sound of a metallic ‘clang’, followed by a cry of “Insufferable bucket!” could be heard. Apple jack winked at the girl.

“Pretty sure.”





“Sweetie Belle, promise me you’ll wash up when you get home?” Rarity asked the now sweaty filly on her back.  

“For the third time, I promise. I’ll wash, I’ll scrub and I’ll spray myself with that perfume mom thinks I can’t reach.” 

“You probably shouldn’t do that last one, but at least get the smell of farm work off.” Rarity stopped in her tracks. “Oh look, there’s Bastion. Want to say hello?”

Sweetie Belle nodded and hopped off, following her sister to the changeling’s little stand. He was sitting next to Silver Spoon and apparently the pair were handing out flyers and taking notes of something.  

“Hi, Sweetie Belle,” he greeted. “Rarity.”

“Hi there,” Silver Spoon greeted as well.

The mare inspected the little stall. Empty glasses were strewn around on the little shelf, and behind the two there were a few bottles with red drops left in them.  

“Are you selling drinks too, Bastion?” Sweetie Belle asked.

“Actually, we were handing out free samples.”  

“Yeah, and if ponies like it they can sign up with me and we know how much to make of the stuff,” Silver Spoon explained.

“And what exactly is this drink, darling?” Rarity asked Silver Spoon.

“It’s a changeling specialty Bastion made. It’s sort of a cherry lemonade, only a little different. Right, Bastion?”

The changeling scratched the back of his head, a little embarrassed.

“Right. It’s something from my hive, actually. It turned out to be pretty popular, too.”

Rarity took in the completely emptied out stock. For such a small stand, they must have garnered quite a lot of attention.

“I can see that. I presume you’ve gotten a lot of orders by now?”

“We sure did. Here, you can have the last coupon,” Silver Spoon started, before giving the mare a little piece of paper. “It’s two bits off any bottle you buy from Sugarcube Corner or any order you make.”

With a smile, Rarity accepted the coupon.  

“Thank you very much, Silver Spoon. I’ll be sure to try some of it when you get it to the shops. What did you say it was called, Bastion?”

“It’s a special kind of cherry lemonade. We call it 'red nectar'.”

Sweetie Belle sniffed the empty glasses just as Silver Spoon was taking them away and closing up shop for the day. There was definitely cherry in that stuff, but something else, too. Something she couldn’t immediately place. Bastion looked at her awkwardly, and his companion didn’t seem pleased about it.

“Something wrong, Sweetie Belle?” she asked.

“No, it’s nothing. Good luck with the assignment.”

“You too. And tell Apple Bloom I’m sorry?” Bastion added.

Sweetie Belle and Rarity departed with a wave.  

“I will. But don’t worry, she won’t stay mad at you. She’s not like that.”

He gave her a weak smile, then got to work folding up the little stall as the sisters resumed their way home.  

“Why would Apple Bloom be angry with him?” 

“I’m not sure. I think she doesn’t like him for some reason.”

“Well, at least you know to be nice to him, right?” Rarity raised her eyebrow insistently.

“I know. He lost his parents and his home, you told me that five times already.”

“That’s right, so don’t be mean.”

As they turned a corner, the gears in Sweetie Belle’s head started turning.

“Hey, Rarity, you said Bastion was a noble, right?”

“He has a noble’s name, certainly. And he did say he was of noble birth. Bon Bon didn’t deny it, either.”

Sweetie Belle rubbed her head as she pondered.

“So that means his parents were nobles too, right?”

“I’d assume as much, yes."

“But nobles, that’s like a king or queen, right? Changelings don't have things like dukes or knights, do they?” 

“I don’t think I like where you’re going with this, Sweetie Belle.” Rarity tensed up.

“But it’s true, isn’t it? If he’s a noble, and an orphan, that means –“

“That he didn’t come from the hive that attacked us, but from one that got destroyed before. It means that he’s lost his home twice. That’s not a very nice thought, is it?”

“Um, no.”  

“Right then. So you know you shouldn’t talk about it around him, and to step in if anyone treats him poorly. He doesn’t know how things work for ponies and he's lost everything, so please try not to open any of his wounds.”

Sweetie Belle nodded. Her sister’s frustration wasn’t new to her, and by now she knew better than to push her limits.

“I won’t. I promise.”

“Good.”

The two resumed their walk in silence.

But I wonder if Apple Bloom feels the same way?

> The Blend
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Chapter 4: The Blend

Applejack finished setting up her stand at the afternoon market.

“Alright, Cutie Mark Crusaders, you can sell your apple juice at my stand. Just don’t go pushing ponies into buying it. You want it to look good, not force it on everyone. That means you, Apple Bloom.”

“I promise I’ll be nice, sis,” Apple Bloom replied, pulling the little cart with their wares along.  

Soon enough, their own little stall was set up, and Applejack was calling out like the other vendors at the afternoon market. Some of the other foals from their class had tagged along with their parents, though most of them avoided the apple stand. The Cutie Mark Crusaders tried their hoof at advertising, but after one eardrum-shattering round from Sweetie Belle the fillies decided it would be prudent to let their product talk for itself.  

It was only after the fifth customer to buy apple pastry and no apple juice that Apple Bloom realised all the ponies at the market already had bottles in their saddlebags. Bottles with something red in it.  

The girls looked around at the ponies going past the stalls. One by one, they could see the heads of bottles poking out from every pony’s saddlebags.  

“I think we might have a bad timing,” Sweetie Belle started. “It looks like everypony’s already got their drinks.”

“You don’t suppose….” Scootaloo suggested.

“Bastion,” Apple Bloom grumbled. “He beat us to it. He must’ve gotten everything done yesterday, or before class this morning. There’s no way he got that many bottles sold while we were still gettin’ set up.”

“It’s no big deal, Apple Bloom. He probably just got something new and a lot of ponies want to try it. You can still sell that apple juice. It’s not wasted, you know that,” Applejack insisted.

“I guess. Just kind of stinks that we’re off to such a bad start.”

“And that’s all it is: a start,” Applejack replied as she took the order of another customer. “Give it time.”

The girls sighed and decided to bite through the initial boredom. Time, however, did not help matters at all. Every time someone would come over for Applejack’s products, and completely ignore the little apple juice stand. All except one.

“Miss Cheerilee, do you want to buy any apple juice?” Scootaloo asked.

“You got apples from your sister, Apple Bloom?” Cheerilee asked.

“Actually, they got them down themselves. It’s the old kind we used to get from the west orchard.  The usual, Cheerilee?”

The teacher widened her eyes at that, impressed.  

“Yes, please, and a bottle of that juice. I can’t remember the last time you had that in stock, Applejack. I thought you’d given up on that years ago.”

“You know fruit bats: tenacious little critters. It just ain’t worth the hassle to get those trees harvested when those things are tryin’ to take it all back. Still, it’s nothin’ these girls couldn’t handle for a little extra.” Applejack ruffled her little sister’s mane.  

“I’ll bet. See you around!”

“Later, Cheerilee,” the orange mare replied while the girls fawned over their first earned bits.  

“Well, it’s a start,” Scootaloo said.

“See? Told you it wouldn’t be that bad. Just give it time and you’ll get some sales going.”





The following day went by as the last one did, and before long the girls were awaiting the end of their class. With only three bottles of apple juice sold so far, the Cutie Mark Crusaders felt they needed to adjust their strategy somewhat. Scootaloo was starting to get worried about Apple Bloom: the filly still completely ignored Bastion and she seemed to be grumbling about him beating them in sales. Admittedly, Scootaloo wasn’t too sure how he’d managed that herself, but then he was in the same team as Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon. Whatever he was selling, it must have been popular.  

The school bell sounded, snapping the pegasus out of her reverie. With a goodbye from their teacher, all the foals – plus one larva, or whatever he was – went out the door.  

“So what should we do now? Try to get our parachuting cutie marks?” Scootaloo asked as they went outside.  

“No. We need to get this assignment done right first. We don’t know yet if this is our talent or not, we need to try harder.” Apple Bloom stomped her hoof on the ground for emphasis. 

“Maybe we should ask Bastion how he got so much sold on his first day?” Sweetie Belle offered.

Apple Bloom sighed in defeat. Behind them, they could hear the buzz of changeling wings as Bastion was late to exit again. Cheerilee had called him in again, and she was talking to him about something, but they couldn’t quite make out what.

“I’ll ask him,” Scootaloo started. “I have to walk him home anyway.”

“No, I’ll walk him home, you head back to the clubhouse. I’ll get your stuff to your place,” Apple Bloom replied, exchanging school bags with her friend.  

“Are you sure?” Scootaloo asked carefully.

“Sure I’m sure. I haven’t really welcomed him to town yet. As an Apple family filly, it’s my duty,” the Earth pony declared proudly.

Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo exchanged a pensive glance.

“What?” the farmer girl asked, confused.

“You don’t have to if you don’t like him,” Scootaloo offered.

“I do like him. I just… haven’t had the chance to talk to him, that’s all.  And now I will,” Apple Bloom argued as Bastion finally went outside. She trotted over to him and turned to her friends.  “I’ll see you at the clubhouse. We can think of what to do there.”

With a shrug, the other two fillies set off.

“Think we should leave Apple Bloom alone with him?” Scootaloo asked once they were out of earshot, pushing her scooter along.

“I don’t know. I think something’s wrong with her. Like she’s really bothered about him being here.  Maybe she just doesn’t like changelings,” the unicorn suggested.

“Maybe, he is a little weird. What do you think is up with him? The way he talked the other day, it was like he’s a machine or something.”

“Maybe that’s just how he was taught. Do you know how changelings think?”

“Not really. He does learn pretty quick, though. He wasn’t all that shy when I talked to him,” Scootaloo explained.

“Really? He was terrified when I talked to him. Think it means anything?”

“I don’t know. It’s not nice to say so, but… he is a changeling, and that counts for something. He has to have some kind of talent for fitting in. I’m pretty sure he knows how he should act around ponies by now, but I don’t think he knows how to act around a single pony. Like he just doesn’t understand there’s a difference between us ponies.”  

“Maybe it’s because where he comes from, there isn’t much of a difference,” Sweetie Belle suggested.

Scootaloo shook her head, contemplating.

“That might explain it, but if you look at it like that, it still doesn’t make much sense, does it?” 

“Why not?” Sweetie Belle frowned, not really getting her friend's point.

“Think about it. If changelings are all mostly the same, why would Bastion be different? Shouldn’t he be just a drone, too? And if he’s not a drone, why would he be here and not with the other changelings? He’s gotta have something that’s close to family with them, right?”

Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo mentally listed their suspicions and explanations for the contradiction, but they both decided it prudent to keep it to themselves for the moment. Awkward silence fell between the two friends, and they both started wondering just how awkward a conversation Bastion would have with Apple Bloom.





“So that’s the rule? You can’t walk round town alone?” 

“Yeah. It’s kind of a long and boring story,” the changeling replied with a nervous smile.

“I’ll bet. My sister gives me weird chores and rules, too. But it must be for a good reason, right?”

He shrugged, his wings making a sound like scrolls being unravelled.  

“I guess it is. It’s just a little weird, you know?”

“Hey, Bastion,” a brown stallion with an hourglass cutie mark greeted with a smile, walking past the pair.

“Hi,” he answered nervously.  

Casting a glance his way, Apple Bloom noticed the stallion had a bottle of the changeling’s nectar in his saddlebag. She also noticed the stallion didn't so much as glance her way when he greeted Bastion.  

“So… you got off to a good start on the assignment, right? Pretty much everypony at the market yesterday had a bottle of your drink. What is it, anyway?” the filly started.

“It’s a special recipe, something from my hive. We used to drink it for a big celebration, or after a battle. It’s mostly cherry juice,” the changeling replied.

“And did you do anything special to get it sold?”

Bastion stopped in his tracks, quivering for just a moment.  

“Umm… yes? Why do you ask?”

“Me and my friends are having trouble getting our apple juice sold, and it looks like you’re really good at it, so I was wondering what you did different from us,” the girl inquired carefully, keeping her eyes from making contact.

“Oh.  Well, that’s easy,” he replied with a flourish, resuming his gait, “for any sort of offensive strategy you need to find the weak points in the defensive structure. In Ponyville, there’s four major points with easy access that give you coverage over the whole town. The easiest way to work is a double hit: one to prepare, one to finish.”

Apple Bloom blinked as his words sank in. Bastion looked a lot more confident all of a sudden, proud, even. As she resumed her walk, the changeling calmed down again. Another pony passed them by and gave the boy a greeting, which he returned with a smile. Again, Apple Bloom found herself completely ignored.  

“Are you talking about selling a drink or laying siege to a city?” 

“There’s not that much difference, is there? The places where you sell the most and the places where you can cause the most damage are the same thing; where there’s lots of ponies. The rules of strategy don’t change in a different context. The same basic principles always apply, just in a different form or interpretation,” the changeling droned mechanically..

“And where exactly did you learn those rules of strategy?” Apple Bloom asked as they reached their destination.

“Back home, at my hive. Oh, speaking of which, you should see my new hive!” he exclaimed excitedly, bolting off to the yard behind the house. Apple Bloom didn’t see Lyra or Bon Bon around, so she ran after him.  

When she saw him next, his face was covered in bees, all buzzing. He blinked from underneath the wriggling mass, showing his clear blue eyes as the fuzzy insects squirmed over him. With the slightest glow of his horn, the insects slowly dropped down to form a beard. He smiled broadly at the little trick and made an excited chittering sound like a bat. 

She knew his kind could make that sound, she'd been warned by her sister it might sound a little weird, but it still made her cringe. When her initial reflex faded, though, she noticed the boy looked really happy like that. There was something familiar about the look in his eye and the way those bees moved over him. She wasn't quite sure why, but she felt an odd mix of dread and familiarity at the sight of him.

“A-are you okay?” 

“Yeah, I’m fine. This is my pet hive. I haven’t had them for long, but they like me,” Bastion replied, smiling underneath that bee-beard and chittering some more, though without opening his mouth at all.

“I can see that,” Apple Bloom noted with a sense of déjà vu.  “I take it you kept bees back home, too?”

Bastion’s expression turned serious and his bees suddenly flew off.  

“I didn’t, but we – you know – changelings keep bees. I did do a few wild honey harvests, that was pretty fun. And ponies keep bees too, right? It’s normal for ponies to have a hive.” He bent down to inspect the box, keeping his back to her.

Despite her best efforts, that last little remark sent another shiver down the filly’s spine. Luckily the changeling was otherwise occupied, so it went unnoticed. He looked dedicated to his little hive, eyes narrowing to look for anything wrong, she guessed he was looking at the larvae to check for parasites or something like that. She realised then where the familiarity came from: Bastion was doing serious work, but enjoying it as such. 

He reminded her of her family.

“Yeah, it is. There’s a beehive on Sugarcube Corner. And one at the library. I suppose you feel more at home knowing ponies have that sort of thing, too?”

“Uh huh. Everypony’s being really nice, too,” Bastion replied as he sent forth a glow with his horn that called out another little swarm. They flew in a figure eight, a pattern she remembered meant something about finding food, then went off towards White Tail Woods.  

Apple Bloom bit her lip. She wondered just how much Bastion really knew about interacting with ponies, certainly regarding how he was being treated.

“Doesn’t it bother you a little?”

Bastion got his head out of the little box and turned towards her.

“Does what bother me?”

“That everypony’s being extra nice to you, like they think they should. You know they only treat you special because you’re an orphan, right?” Apple Bloom tentatively inquired.

“That’s not true,” Bastion replied, not shaken by the revelation in the slightest.

“Yeah, it is. They think you’re sad all the time and you need cheering up.”

“I know that. I mean I’m not an orphan,” he replied calmly.

A little bead of cold sweat ran down the filly’s neck.

“You know ‘orphan’ means you lost your birth parents, right?”

Bastion nodded.

“Which is why I’m not an orphan. My birth mom is still alive.”

“Bastion, honey?” a mare called out. Apple Bloom turned and saw a green unicorn come out the back door of the changeling’s house. “Oh, there you are,” Lyra said. “Knock on the door next time, sweetie, you know I can’t hear you while I’m working.”

“Sorry, mom,” he replied, turning his face away from her to hide a blush and seemingly ignoring the fact that the Earth pony filly right in front of him had a clear view of it.

Apple Bloom’s mind was reeling. The quick replies in class, the sudden sales and his fascination for combat strategies all puddled up and painted a most disturbing picture of the changeling in front of her.

“Hey, Apple Bloom,” Lyra greeted. “Want to come in for a bit?”

“No thanks, I need to drop Scootaloo’s stuff off and head back to our clubhouse. I’ll see you around, Bastion.”

“Yeah, see you around, Apple Bloom.”

The Earth pony filly slowly turned and walked off, then started running once she was out of sight.

“Another new friend, huh?” Lyra asked as the pair went inside.

“I think so.  I’m not sure,” Bastion replied quizzically.

“She walked you home, didn’t she?”

“I don’t know. I think she might be upset about me selling red nectar, and nopony’s buying her apple juice. Maybe I should stop." He fidgeted, unsure.  

Lyra put her hoof under his chin so he’d look her in the eye.

“Bastion, you can’t just stop doing something you like because you think one girl doesn’t like you. Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon are on your team, they need you to do this assignment right, don’t they?”

“I suppose.”

“Give Apple Bloom some time. She’s a nice girl, she’ll warm up to you,” the unicorn offered, putting a foreleg around him to hold the boy close.

He nuzzled into her at that, shivering.

“Thanks, mom. I really want Apple Bloom to be nice to me, though.”

“You mean she isn’t? That doesn’t sound like her at all. You two do have a couple of things in common, do you think she’s bothered by you somehow?”

“Sort of. She is nice, but I think something’s wrong with her. And I can’t just ask her; she doesn’t know me. It’d be weird if I asked something private like that, wouldn’t it?”

“Yeah, you’re probably right. Suppose you tried a little gift to cheer her up? Something special you made just for her?“ 

“But all I’ve got is changeling blood.”

“Then maybe you should let her try some. Couldn’t hurt, right?” Lyra offered with a wink.

“I don’t know. It just feels wrong. I think she’s acting that way because my nectar’s beating her apple juice.  I’m not being unfair, am I?” Bastion looked up fearfully.

“Unfair? How?”

“Using… you know… “

“Hey, Apple Bloom’s got her family’s orchard, all the kids in town have their siblings or parents helping them out. You are doing it fairly. And besides, this isn’t a game you win, it’s just something to see what you can do. And so far you’re doing fine. You’ve got nothing to be ashamed about, got it?”

The boy nodded.

“Good. So Diamond and Silver are coming over after dinner again?” She moved into the living room to rest on her chair, slouched as she so frequently did to get the stress out of her back. Leaning forward to fix instruments for so long did lead to some odd ways of relieving tension.

“Uh huh. We went over the estimate on our first day. I think I might run out in two days at this rate.” The changeling settled down on a couch.

“You’ll be fine. Just make sure you don’t overwork yourself, alright? It’s a school assignment, not foal labour. You don’t wanna go passing out in class.”

“No, I’ll be careful. But mom?”

“Yeah?” She looked at him with an inviting smile, glad to see him speaking frankly.

“Suppose I really don’t want Apple Bloom to try the nectar, but I want her to be nice to me. What should I do?”

“Hmm… I’ll tell you what you should do. You should just ask Bonsy about that one. She’s really good at this sort of thing,” Lyra suggested with a grin.





“Err, girls?” Apple Bloom asked as she came into their clubhouse, finding her friends as they were contemplating their next commercial move.

“What’s the matter? Did you ask Bastion how his stuff got so popular?” Sweetie Belle asked.

“Why are you shaking like that?” Scootaloo inquired, fear in her voice from seeing her friend all aquiver. Apple Bloom’s jaw was hanging a little, and she didn’t make eye contact right away.  

“I-I asked and he started going on about tactics and damage, like he was from the military or something. And get this: he lied,” Apple Bloom declared.

Sweetie Belle raised her eyebrow.

“He lied? About what?” 

“He’s not really an orphan. He said his birth mom is still alive. That’s not possible, is it?” 

“Unless his birth mom is back at their hive,” the unicorn filly concluded.

“I’ve got a bad feeling about this. I saw some ponies with that nectar of his, and they acted like he’d been in town for ages, but they didn't even look at me. Like he wasn’t even the new kid, and I was invisible. Then when he showed me his beehive, it was like he thinks it’s normal to have a hive instead of a home. Like it’d be fair for him to turn Ponyville into a hive." Apple Bloom went wide-eyed with shock even as she said it aloud.

“Come on, you’re overreacting. You can’t tell that just from walking him home,” Scootaloo replied. “There’s no way he could do that even if he wanted to.”

“Then why is he here and not with the other changelings? They had kids with’em, he should be with his family.  He said so himself: his birth mom is still alive. And it said in the papers that all the changelings who could think for themselves left their hive. So why wouldn’t his mom come with him?” Apple Bloom argued.

“Umm… there is one changeling who can think for herself and didn’t leave the hive,” Sweetie Belle noted with an air of dread, ”the queen that attacked Canterlot. I think her name was Chrysalis.”

Scootaloo bit her lip.

“Not you too. He’s new in town, you don’t know anything about him. You can’t just go saying he’s, you know….“

“He’s what? Lying about his parents? It makes sense, doesn’t it? If he is Chrysalis’ son, then that means he’s here for protection, like the ones from the council. They only let one real leader stay in their new town so only one of them had to speak for all of them. And if he is a changeling prince, then other countries could call him the leader and he’d have to deal with all that political stuff. Keeping him away from that town is the safest thing to do, for him. And it would let him do whatever his mom wanted him to do. If he has the same kind of power as a hive Queen, that means he can brainwash ponies with the same kind of spell she did. Nopony would even notice if he put something in that drink."

“You don’t know that, listen to yourself! What proof do you have?” Scootaloo shouted in outrage.

“Well,” Sweetie Belle interjected, “Rarity did say he has a noble name. She thought he might be a noble from another hive that got destroyed before, but to be fair this makes more sense. And you said he wasn’t as shy as you thought he’d be when he talked to you. Did you hear anything that might explain it?”

Scootaloo sighed.  She shook her head, but she couldn't hide what she was thinking.

“It’s nothing. It could have been anything.”

“Scootaloo,” Apple Bloom threatened, moving closer to her pegasus friend, “what did you hear?”

“Lyra. When she called him in, she… she called him ‘little prince’.”

“And you don’t think that’s weird at all?”

“Why is that weird? I’ve heard Diamond Tiara’s dad call her ‘little princess’. I’m pretty sure she’s not."

“We can’t just ignore this, can we?” Apple Bloom asked.

“Ignore what? Bastion’s not doing anything wrong. You just hate him because he’s a changeling." Scootaloo finally let go of the suspicion she'd had since Bastion had arrived.

“I do not!” 

“Then why are you trying to find something wrong with him? You've been grumpy about him being in class since he got here,” Scootaloo countered, wings stretched out in a reflex to look more intimidating.

“I am not grumpy. I’m just sayin’ it’s suspicious and he might be up to something.”

“Like what? There’s nothing he can do. He’s never alone. If he really is a prince, then there’s probably some sort of security for him. Think about it: if you’re right, who do you think needs protection? Us or him?” 

“She’s got a point, you know,” Sweetie Belle agreed. “It could still be something else. Maybe his mom was on that council and she had to leave him. Either way, it’s not his fault things turned out the way they did.”

“You’re right, it’s not. But that doesn’t change the fact that it’s suspicious. How do we know? Suppose he is putting something in that drink?” Apple Bloom insisted.

Scootaloo groaned.

“Do you really think Lyra or Bon Bon would let him? Not to mention Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon.”

“But didn’t Twilight say Lyra was hypnotised by that queen too? She could have been brainwashed to let him do it, or force him to do it,” Apple Bloom offered.

“Now that you mention it, that is possible,” Sweetie Belle agreed. “But Rarity said Lyra was just under the queen’s influence, not any real control. And it was a high level spell that you can't notice, so you can't really fight it. If he is a prince, he probably knows how to do that sort of thing, too.”

“Okay, stop!” Scootaloo shouted. “You can’t just go saying things like this about a classmate, not again. Or have you forgotten what happened when we were on the Foal Free Press? Everypony hated us for making up the kind of stuff you’re saying! You don’t know what is up with him, you don’t know the whole story, and the only reason you’re even suspecting him of anything is because of how he was born. And you know that’s not fair!”

Apple Bloom flinched.

“Of course I know. I’m just worried, is all. Ain’t I allowed to be worried if there might be danger?”

Scootaloo sighed.

“Yeah, you are. But just listen to yourself, Apple Bloom. You’re accusing this kid, the new kid, of some crime and you don’t even know what it might be. It doesn’t matter what he does, you wouldn’t like him anyway. You’re treating him like dirt, for no reason.”

“That’s not true. I’m just as nice to him as I am to anypony else, I don’t hate him for how he was born. I’m not hurting him, and that dodgeball thing was an accident. I do like him.”

“Yeah? Prove it. Name one thing you like about Bastion,” Scootaloo challenged.

“I like the fact that he’s tryin’ so hard to fit in. He’s not shutting himself off like most ponies would, that's mighty big of him. I really like how he is with his bees, Granny Smith would love to see that, too, I’m sure. But that doesn’t mean that I should treat him special, and it doesn’t give him the right to lie. If anypony else was doing what it looks like he’s doing, I’d be worried too.”

“But you do wanna be friends with him?” Scootaloo persisted.

“Of course I do. Now that I've seen how he really is, I guess we do have a couple of things in common. I think he really likes farming honey, so that's kind of like me and my family. It'd be nice to have another farmer in our class, if he does keep that up. Why wouldn’t I want to be friends?”

“If you want to be friends with him, maybe you should give him the benefit of the doubt. Cut him some slack; he lost his family, no matter how you look at it." Scootaloo winced at the thought.

“I guess. So what are we doin’ now?”

“Bastion didn’t give you any tips to sell more?” Sweetie Belle inquired.

“Umm, he said there’s four spots in Ponyville that are weakest and it’s best to strike twice; once to prepare, once to finish,” Apple Bloom narrated.

“Four spots, huh? Which ones do you suppose he meant by that?” Scootaloo wondered aloud.

“One of them’s gotta be Sugarcube Corner, and two of them are the market squares, probably,” Apple Bloom deduced.

“I saw Bastion with a little stall on the way from Sweet Apple Acres, actually. He was handing out coupons with Silver Spoon yesterday,” Sweetie Belle noted.

Apple Bloom slapped herself.

“That’s why he sold so much. He handed out coupons the day before.”

“And Silver Spoon said that way, they knew how many bottles they had to make.”

“I guess he meant coupons by that ‘two strike’ thing, too. He set it up before he sold anything. He went for advertising first. We could try that.”

Scootaloo shrugged.

“Or we could wait.”

“Wait for what? Wait for Bastion to beat us?” The Earth pony gritted her teeth.

“He’s not beating us at anything, Apple Bloom. We’re supposed to do this for school, remember? Do you know what you’re supposed to write yet? Do you know why this idea isn’t working yet?” 

“Because Bastion’s selling a drink that’s more popular than ours.”

“I'm not so sure about that, actually. I don't think one drink could make it so ponies don't want to drink anything else. There's something else we're missing. But if it is Bastion, why don’t we just wait for him to run out or for ponies to get tired of it? It’s not like he’s got tons of the stuff; we have two weeks and he’ll run out eventually. We don't even know what the rest if our class is planning to do.”

“So we’re just going to let Bastion --“

“Let him what? Do the same thing everypony else in class is doing? Try to fit in and maybe make some new friends? You just said you’d like to be friends with him. It’s not like he’s picking on us. Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon are acting nicer with him on their team. Why not let him have a little success? We’ve got bigger things to worry about.”

“Like what?”

“Like what we should write for the essay,” Sweetie Belle noted.

Apple Bloom sighed and sat down.  

“Oh, right. I should ask my sister about all that.”

“We kind of know what went wrong now: ponies got Bastion’s red nectar, so they don’t want apple juice on top of that. It's not that they don't like it, it's just that they got that red nectar first,” Sweetie Belle took notes of the possibilities. “But we could still try advertising. Sweet Apple Acres is pretty famous.”

“And Miss Cheerilee sounded pretty impressed when she heard it came from the west orchard.  What’s so special about the west orchard?” Scootaloo inquired.

“It’s where the juicy apples grow. Different soil, different watering, I think it’s a different kind of apple tree, too. It was pretty popular a couple of years ago, but the fruit bats just made it too hard to keep up with demand. The apples are useless for cider, anyway, not enough pulp.”

“So apple juice from those apples is better than normal? And ponies know it’s good?” Scootaloo looked frustrated at the revelation.

“Oh yeah. We get a little every now and again, but it’s for special orders only. The apples that just fall down when they’re ripe are enough for those. I mean, fruit bats are a protected species and all, and we don’t really need to harvest all those trees,” Apple Bloom reasoned.

“So what you’re saying is: if we tell ponies we have that kind of apple juice, chances are we’ll sell a ton of it pretty quickly?” 

It took a few moments to sink in, but eventually Apple Bloom got the idea.

“We should actually tell ponies it’s a special kind of apple juice, huh?”

“Ya think?”

Apple Bloom rolled her eyes.

“Okay, maybe I’ve been looking at this the wrong way.”

> Blue Ocean Strategy
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Chapter 5: Blue Ocean Strategy

Bastion wriggled into his peejays, with Bon Bon tugging carefully at the sleeves. The wrappings around his legs got another little check, then a rub when she confirmed they were still doing their job.

“There. You’re still a little sharp, you know. Guess those edges grow back pretty quickly.”

“Yeah, I noticed.” The boy clambered into bed. “Maybe I should change my shape to fix it?”

“No,” Bon Bon replied sternly. “Remember what we told you: don’t change shape unless it’s an emergency. You don’t need to ‘fix’ yourself with magic, you’re fine.”

The little changeling sighed and nodded. Bon Bon tucked him in nice and snug, then rubbed his web mane. He still looked worried.

“What’s wrong, sweetie?” 

“It’s Apple Bloom.  She was acting kind of weird.” The boy looked away and fidgeted shyly.

“Weird? How?”

“She was asking me about some things today, and I think I said something wrong.”

“What did you tell her then, Bastion?”

“I told her about my mom.  You know, my birth mom.”

“She asked you about that? That’s not like her. She should know better by now, she’s gotten into trouble like that before.” Bon Bon shook her head.

“She didn’t ask about it. We were just talking, and she wanted to know about me. She looked really impressed when I showed her my bees, mom. I thought she wanted to be friends, but then… she doesn’t act like she wants to be friends. I really want her to be nice to me, and I wanna be nice to her. I just don’t know what I should do.”

“And Lyra told you I’d know this better than her, huh?” She smiled.

“Uh huh. What do you think I should do?”

Bon Bon stroked over the sheets covering her son’s belly as she thought.

“If Apple Bloom’s acting a little off, it just means something’s bothering her. It’ll pass, and she’ll warm up to you. Sometimes it just takes time to see how alike ponies are, or changelings. You’ve met Twilight Sparkle, you’ve heard the stories. Her friends weren’t that close with each other at first, but they got to know each other.”

“But what if I’m doing something wrong and she’ll hate me for that? What if she never wants to be friends with me?” The boy cringed at the thought.

The Earth pony mare looked him right in the eye at that.

“You’re still worried about that drink?”

“I-I don’t know. I thought it might be a good idea, but it’s not. I just wanted ponies in town to like me, but it’s getting too much.”

“But ponies do like you, don’t they? I’m sure most of town knows your name by now, and they say ‘Hi’ when they see you, right?”

“Yes, everypony’s really nice. But not Apple Bloom. I want Apple Bloom to be nice to me,” Bastion insisted.

Bon Bon suppressed a knowing chuckle.

“So try a little gift. If she’s really that upset about the juice thing, and I doubt she is, a little present might show you want to be friends. You’re not going to make friends with her if you avoid her, you know.”

“That’s what Lyra said. But all I’ve got is that red nectar. And I don’t want to give her that, it’s probably the reason she"s acting like that to begin with. It doesn't feel right.”

“Then maybe you should try something different. Some of your beehive’s honey, maybe some honey waffles?”

“But I didn't make that honey, my bees did. And I already tried making waffles. I nearly burned myself, remember?”

“Right, baking’s not your strong suit. You just need practice, sweetie, we can try it again this weekend if you like.”

“I’d like that. But, mom?”

“Yes, sweetie?”

“Do you really think Apple Bloom will come around? Even if I can’t do anything to cheer her up?” Bastion narrowed his eyes, and his wings buzzed under the sheets.

“Of course she will. She’s a nice girl, and you said she liked your bees. She does come from a farming family, and there aren’t a lot of foals in town who can say the same thing. You like making food, and her family's all about that, too. And you're trying to find your place here, just like she's trying to find her cutie mark. Trust me, you’ve got more in common than you think. And whatever’s bothering her will go away. Even if you don’t think you can help, she has friends and family who can. It’s no big deal. Give her another day, and if you still think she's acting weird after tomorrow, why not bring your game to school?” Bon Bon suggested with a smile.

“You mean my board game? How would that help?” The boy raised an eyebrow.

“You don’t fly or use magic for a board game. Applejack is really strict when it comes to being fair, and I think her little sister has picked up on that over the years. Maybe if you have a little competition and show her that you really care a lot about playing things fair, she’ll open up a bit.”

The changeling thought it over, then smiled.

“That might actually work. Thanks, mom.”

“It’s what I’m here for, honey. Now go to sleep, okay? And you can stop making more of that drink. You’re starting to look a little pale.”

“I know. I just wanted to put some effort into it, I guess.”

“Of course you did, sweetie.” Bon Bon kissed him on the forehead and moving to the door. “Good night.”

“Good night." He paused, biting his lip before speaking again. "Umm, mom?”

“Yes, Bastion?” the mare asked, one hoof already raised to the light switch.

“This might sound weird, but… h-how long is this going to last?” Bastion asked with a shiver.

“What do you mean?”

“How long are you and Lyra going to be my moms?”

Bon Bon suddenly felt a little choke in her throat. She swallowed and put up her bravest smile.

“For as long as we live, Bastion. Even when you're grown up and ready to spread your wings, we'll still be your moms. And you'll always be our son, nothing is going to change that.” Bon Bon switched the light off.  

“What about my birth mom?” 

Bon Bon shrugged, standing in the light of the hallway.  

“No reason to think she’s going to make any difference, honey. Sapphire Gaze said it wouldn’t matter, and we promised to take care of you from now on.”

“And what about the others?”

“What others?”

He hid his face under the covers.

“The ones who don’t want me to be here.”

“They don’t get a say in this, Bastion, princess Celestia made sure of that. No one is going to get to you, and no one is taking you away. There’s no reason to worry. But if you still feel bad or scared about it, just say so. You can talk to us about anything.”

“I’ll be fine, I was just curious. Thanks, mom.” Bastion turned in his bed. “Good night.”

Bon Bon closed the door and left her son to doze off. She knew he’d sleep well, the boy still went out like a snuffed candle after being overcharged with maternal love.

Lyra was watching some action movie when Bon Bon came down the stairs.

“Everything okay?”

Bon Bon chuckled softly.

“I think our boy may have a little crush on Apple Bloom.”

“You noticed that, huh?” 

“Oh, it’s obvious, and cute. They'd look so nice together. I’m worried, though. I’m not sure if he really knows what’s right and what’s wrong. It’s like he thinks he’s doing something wrong just by running a simple lemonade stand.”

Lyra patted the seat next to her, which her mate eagerly took.

“He’s just getting used to living with ponies. He’ll loosen up. The ponies in town all know him by now.”

“True. And Bastion’s really happy his drink's so popular.”

“But competing with Apple Bloom's not what he wanted, huh?” 

Bon Bon nodded, lying down to rest her head on Lyra's lap.

“It’s nothing to worry about, though, right?” the cream-coloured mare asked, looking up at her mate's face. “He’s done what he wanted to do. He can’t make any more, but he won’t need to.”

“Exactly.” Lyra pulled Bon Bon closer into a hug. “He’s making Ponyville his new home, just like we told him to. He’s fitting in just fine. Nothing to worry about.”

“Not for us, maybe. But there’s plenty for him to worry about, still.”

“What makes you say that?” Lyra looked down at the mare in her hug.

“He just asked me how long we’d be his moms, and if his birth mom might come around to change that. And he asked about… you know, the other thing.”

Lyra sighed, and for a moment even the explosions on the television didn’t distract her from her train of thought.  

“He’s here to stay, and no one’s taking him away. That’s all that counts.”.

Bon Bon let her head sink in that comfy lap, absently watching the film.

“Hey, Lyra?”

“Yeah, hun?”

“You’d know if Bastion used any kind of magic, right? Like when you were under that queen’s influence? You’d recognise that spell next time someone cast it, wouldn’t you?” Bon Bon asked carefully.

“I guess so. It was a pretty high level spell, though. Really snuck up on me, on all the bridesmaids. Why?”

“Just something that’s bothering me. I feel like I’m missing something, something important. You don’t think Bastion would cast a spell on Apple Bloom to make her be nice to him, do you?”  

Lyra put a hoof under Bon Bon’s chin and moved it so she could look her right in the eye.

“No. I do not think our son would do that. He’s a good boy, you know that. He’s got a good heart, and even if he does do something bad, we’re his parents now. Whatever happens, it’s on us.”

Bon Bon smiled at the sudden surge of determination. She reached up and planted a kiss on the unicorn’s lips, just a gentle touch that gave them a moment of perfect contentment.

“You’re right,” Bon Bon remarked once she regained her composure. “It is up to us to make sure he does the right thing. So you’d better not be a bad influence on our boy.”

“Who, me? I swear I have no idea what you’re talking about, Bonsy.”

Right at that moment, the television screeched as Robocolt unloaded his canon and five unicorns and a pegasus found themselves exploding in gore.

“You sure about that, honey?”





The next day saw Applejack and her three tagalong salesponies breaking up their stalls after another round of sales.

“Well, that went a lot better, didn’t it?” Applejack started once the afternoon market was done.  

“I’ll say. We’re nearly sold out,” Scootaloo replied, breaking down their little stall.  

“Guess a bit of advertising went a long way,” Apple Bloom agreed.

“Right, so now you know what to write in your report,” the mare casually remarked.

“Oh yeah… the report,” Sweetie Belle replied with an air of dread.





The Cutie Mark Crusader clubhouse was silent, save the sound of pencils being aimlessly pressed to paper.

“We should start by saying why our first sales didn’t work,” Sweetie Belle tried.

“That’s easy; Bastion had a more popular drink. Nopony wanted ours if they could have his,” Apple Bloom remarked.

“Will you stop blaming Bastion for that?” Scootaloo snapped. “We didn’t get anything sold because nopony knew we had different apples in it.”

“I’m just sayin’ he gave us competition, is all. I still don’t understand how he got so much done."

Scootaloo groaned. Sweetie Belle shook her head at her Earth pony friend.

“What?” Apple Bloom asked.

“You still hate him,” Sweetie Belle remarked.

“I do not hate him. I’m just saying we had to compete with him and he beat us. Isn’t that a fair thing to say?”

Sweetie Belle looked at Apple Bloom with a sad expression.

“Oh, come on, it’s not like I’m picking on him or calling him names, I just thought it was weird. I do like him. I thought we went over this.”

“You did say some pretty nasty things about him, Apple Bloom. You practically accused him of poisoning half the town,” Scootaloo remarked. “And you might say otherwise, but I don’t think you’d have done that if Bastion wasn’t a changeling.”

“That’s not true.”

“You should talk to him again,” Sweetie Belle offered, “just to get it out of the way. I think maybe he likes you. Enough to be upset because you’re angry with him.”

“Now you’re just bein’ silly. Even if I was angry with him, and I’m not, why would he care about how I feel?”

“Maybe because he’s trying to make friends and you keep ignoring him or blowing him off in school. He’s gotten scared to play with us, you know. All he does is hang around Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon and talk about that assignment. He doesn’t play at all anymore,” Sweetie Belle argued.

“If he wants to be friends, all he has to do is ask. If you’re so sure he wants to hang out with us, why didn’t he sign up with us for the assignment?”

“Would you have let him?” Scootaloo retorted.

Apple Bloom shrugged.  

“It wouldn’t have been good idea, but I wouldn’t have said ‘no’ to him if he’d just asked.”

Sweetie Belle groaned and put her pencil on the table. She knew, right then and there, that they weren’t going to get anything done if they didn’t work this out.

“Why? What is your problem with him?” Scootaloo asked, barely containing her frustration.

“What’s my problem? I’m not the one with a problem here, you two are the ones acting all crazy. I’m just as nice to Bastion as I am to all the other colts in class. Why do you keep thinking I hate him? I walked him home, I talked, I was nice.”

“And then you basically called him a liar and a villain,” Scootaloo remarked.  

“Oh, like you wouldn’t, if you heard that? Like it wouldn’t be the first time a foal slipped something into a drink for adults?” 

“How would you like it if ponies talked like that behind your back?” the pegasus retorted.

Apple Bloom looked to Sweetie Belle, then to Scootaloo, then sighed in defeat.

“Fine. I’ll talk to him again tonight, after dinner. I’ll tell him the whole thing, I’ll apologise, and I’ll make friends with him. Is that good enough?” She started visibly twitching with anger.  

Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle exchanged a glance.

“For real this time,” Scootaloo insisted. “You’re not gonna come back and say he’s been putting something bad in his drink, right?”

“I promise I'll make up and I’ll be as nice as I can when I'm done,” Apple Bloom replied, holding up a hoof to swear. “Pinkie promise.”

“Okay,” Sweetie Belle agreed, “so now we can finally finish our report.”

Silence fell.

“And how exactly do we turn ‘we told ponies it had special apples’ into two pages?” Scootaloo asked.





“So no luck on the report, huh?” Applejack asked as she washed the last dish.

“No. We’re just not sure what to say, I guess,” Apple Bloom replied, drying off said dish and putting it back in the cupboard. 

“Well, what did Cheerilee teach you so far? You can count by now, can’t you?” 

“Of course I can. But all we really got was how you should supply stuff for a demand. We got that double curve thingie with prices and all, but that’s it.”

“And that’s already pretty advanced at your age, actually. Time was we didn’t get that class ‘till we were old enough to vote.”

Apple Bloom sighed.

“Applejack, if someone’s beating you at something, it’s fair to say so, right?”

“Sure it is. You shouldn’t give up, but if you got beat, you should be big enough to admit it.”

“So it’s okay if I say I didn’t get any juice sold at first because Bastion was selling his, then,” Apple Bloom concluded.

The mare turned to look intently at her little sister.

“I wouldn’t go that far. He was only trying to do what he thought was best, after all. You shouldn’t say anything bad about him, Apple Bloom. He did lose his home, and his parents.”

Apple Bloom bit her lip at that.

“Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo said I should apologise for thinking badly about him.”

“Badly? How?”

“I just thought it was weird he got so much sold, and the ponies I’ve seen with his drink were acting all strange. I thought maybe he put something in his drink, like a drug. That’s not bad of me, is it?” Apple Bloom asked, sounding a little hurt.

“Apple Bloom, you know full well that’s bad. It is not okay to say things like that about a boy who’s lost everything. I told you to be nice to him, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, you did.”

“And have you been?” Applejack asked.

Apple Bloom reluctantly shook her head.

“I guess not. But –“

“But nothin’. Bastion needs to get used to his new home, he’s lost everyone in his family,” Applejack insisted.

“How do you know? Did he tell you?”

“No, I heard it from Rarity, and Twilight, and a lot of other ponies. Did he tell you anything different?”

“He told me his birth mom is still alive,” Apple Bloom said bluntly.

The mare gulped at that.

“You talked to him about his birth parents? Really? I thought you knew better than to talk about something that painful.”

“It’s not what you think. I wasn’t mean to him or anything, I just wanted to get to know him. And he didn’t cry when he told me, I didn’t even ask about it. He told me on his own, and he looked pretty calm about it, too. He wasn’t anywhere near as sad as you made him out to be, and he’s not bottling anything up, either. I don’t get why everypony’s making such a big fuss about him.”

“Yeah, well, it probably hasn’t had time to sink in yet. For all you know, he could have started crying when you left. I’m surprised at you, Apple Bloom. I thought you knew better than to open up his wounds like that. Don’t you wanna make friends with him?”

“I did not open up any wounds. He just went and told me his birth mom is still alive. What would you think about that?”

“Um, I’d think that means either the others lied to him about it so he wouldn’t be upset, or his mom had to abandon him, and that still makes him an orphan. Either way, that's not something you oughtta talk about. What’s gotten into you, Apple Bloom? I honestly thought you’d like him. You two have got a couple of things in common, you know.”

“I know. I saw,” the filly grumbled.  

Applejack smiled softly at her sister and knelt down to get to her eye level.

“I think I see what’s goin' on. That’s the problem, isn’t it? You do like him, and you’re scared to admit it because of what he is.”

“I am not,” Apple Bloom objected, before shaking her head as she thought it over.“ Okay, maybe you're half right: I do like him. It is nice to have another foal in town who’s interested in farming, even if it is farming honey and bees. And even if he's not really a foal, technically.”

“So do you think you should apologise for jumping to conclusions? Again? You realise he doesn’t know you do this sort of thing all the time, right?”

“I do not jump to conclusions all the time, sis.”

“Oh no? So what Rainbow Dash and Twilight told me about what happened the day you met your friends, that wasn’t true? And what Rarity told me about how you freaked out when Big Mac had that love poison in him, that wasn’t true, either? Or the time you just had to get out from letting Granny Smith do her talk in front of your class, all of that wasn’t overreacting?”

Apple Bloom sighed in defeat.

“Yeah, it was. Guess I’m just dumb that way.”

Applejack ruffled the little filly’s mane.

“No, you’re not. This is exactly the sort of thing Twilight gets all the time, and she’s the smartest pony I know. But the thing about being smart is: your mind can play tricks on you and make you say things you regret. Did it really look that bad that you thought he was doing something evil?”

Apple Bloom nodded.

“Yeah, it did.”

“And does he look evil now?”

The filly sighed.

“Not really, no.He is nice, and I want to be friends. And Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon wouldn’t fall for that kind of thing, anyway. I guess you’re right, my mind’s just playin’ tricks on me.”

“It happens. But if you wanna be friends, don’t you think you should explain it to him and apologise? Let him know that it’s not his fault?”

“I guess I really should, huh?” the filly conceded.

Applejack offered patted the girl’s back.

“Just be back before sundown.”





Scootaloo took a sip of her milkshake, looking around Sugarcube Corner. While school had been the usual fare, the afternoon market had been an unexpected success. Not only that, but she’d found quite the novelty after dinner.

“So then you don’t focus on your hooves, but on the point just beyond them. That’s how you get your magic to work,” Rumble explained.

“I’ve been wondering about that. So that’s how you get lightning out of a cloud.”

“Yup. And rain and hail, but you need to squeeze that out. Lightning’s got more of a clap to it.”

“Obviously. So you already learned that just because you wanna be on the Weather Patrol one day? You must be pretty sure about it if you're starting this early, and without a cutie mark.” Scootaloo noted.

“I like riding winds, so why not? That waterspout thing was really fun, too. Rainbow Dash said I was a natural.” He blushed, taking a sip of his own milkshake as an excuse to stop talking.

Scootaloo noticed Rumble’s nervousness. No one was watching them, though. Nopony around seemed to really care that the boy and girl were together, there wasn’t any real reason for him to feel embarrassed. She certainly didn’t; Rumble was the cool kid of their class and always seemed to follow his own logic. She’d never known him to get nervous about anything, but then she’d never really hung out with him.  

“You must be a pretty good flyer, then.”

Rumble shrugged.

“I wouldn't know. I don’t really compare myself to anyone, except maybe my brother. And he’s a way better flyer than me.”

The filly blinked in surprise as that remark set in.

“You mean Thunderlane, right? Isn’t he going for the Wonderbolts, too?”

Rumble raised an eyebrow.

“Umm… yes?” 

“And you only compare your flying to him? To somepony who might actually make it to the Wonderbolts?” 

“Isn’t that kind of what you do with Rainbow Dash?” 

Scootaloo opened her mouth to retort, but found her reply caught halfway.

“Good point. Except I can’t fly yet.”

Now Rumble blinked in surprise.

“Seriously?”

“Hey, don’t laugh. My wings just aren’t strong enough for it yet.”

“I wasn’t going to laugh. Your wings aren’t strong enough for it? But I’ve seen you carry heavy stuff with your scooter. That thing doesn’t have a motor, does it?” 

“No, I push it myself.”

“So how are your wings that strong, but not strong enough to carry you?”

“I don’t really know. I get off the ground sometimes, but I can’t stay up.”

“Have you asked Rainbow Dash about it? Or a doctor?”

“Not yet. It’s pretty embarrassing. And I don't feel sick or anything, either.”  Now it was Scootaloo's turn to blush and sip her milkshake just to stop from saying something she'd regret.

“I could try to help, if you like.”

Scootaloo suppressed a gasp. He didn’t look like he was kidding, or that it was an offer out of pity. It was just a casual offer to help her with one of the most defining aspects of her life.

“You’d do that?”

“Sure, why not? I’m pretty much done with our assignment. And like you said: there's nothing wrong with your wings, you just haven't learned to fly yet. I wouldn't mind showing you. It’d be nice to do something a little different. Besides, you shouldn’t have to be embarrassed about asking Rainbow Dash for help, or your friends not being able to help. You’re a pegasus pony, for some things you need help from another pegasus pony. Unless you’ve asked your family about it.”

“My aunt Vinyl can’t fly, and neither can Octavia. As for my mom and dad… when I go up to see them, there’s a lot of other stuff I’d rather do than try to fly. Especially if I can’t be sure it’ll really work. I don’t see them every day, so –“

“So you wanna make the days count, of course. I know a few places where I can practise with no one watching. You can come along with me sometime, if you like. It might help. But would learning to fly mean you’d move out of Ponyville?”

“Nah, it’s closer to school this way, plus my parents don’t have to worry about any emergencies at work keeping them busy. This is more like boarding school, except it’s fun.”

“Oh, right. I guess it would be.”

“Speaking of which, I should get going. Aunt Vinyl’s got a gig in Canterlot, and I need to be back home before she leaves. Thanks, Rumble.” Scootaloo finished her milkshake and headed out.  

“No problem.  See you around, Scootaloo,” Rumble offered with a smile, calmly sipping his milkshake, which hadn’t even been done halfway yet.

As Scootaloo made to leave, she found herself wondering. She turned for a moment to look at the colt. He was a pretty cool guy, all in all, she decided. He was kind of cute, a good flyer, and he’d gotten approval from Rainbow Dash. Plus, he was so nice. She’d gotten used to the idea that ponies who were really good at something could be cocky about it, or that any help offered would be out of pity. But here she had a colt, a fellow blank flank, who was an excellent flyer yet didn’t so much as call her out on her little hindrance. He hadn't even hesitated to offer help.

A stray thought nagged at her in the back of her mind about it.

“What's wrong?” Rumble asked the frozen filly.

“You ever get the feeling you’re missing something? Something really important?” 
“Like what?”

“I don’t know.  It’s just a feeling.”





“Okay, Apple Bloom, you can do this. Just walk on over and apologise for bein’ mean. Even though you were tryin’ to be nice and never even called him names. Ya just need to apologise for thinking bad of a classmate. You’re not allowed to think bad. Thinking bad is bad.”

The more she considered it, the less she was looking forward to it. She stood in the middle of the street, right in front of Lyra and Bon Bon’s house. She took a deep breath to steady herself, then put one hoof forward.

She stopped when she heard a noise behind her, like bottles chinking together. Berry Punch’s house was right behind her, and with a perk of her ears Apple Bloom realised she heard Bastion’s voice coming from the brewer’s basement.  

There was nopony else around, it was still dinnertime for most, since her family always ate a little early. She inched closer towards a basement window, careful not be seen. Some flowerpots with tulips in them would hide her from any passers-by, and as long as she didn’t make a sound no one would know to look there. With a quick peek inside, she spotted Diamond Tiara and her dad as well Berry Punch with the changeling.

“I’d say that’ll be pretty much the last of it. You did a good job, Bastion,” Berry offered.

“Thanks. And thank you for finding that mix, I couldn’t have done it without your help,” the changeling offered.

“Any time, neighbour.”  

“You know, it’s a pretty popular treat you have there,” Filthy Rich offered. “You might want to consider spreading out.”

“I thought of that, but I don’t think I really should. I’m out of stock now, and the assignment’s done. I don't really need to do more than that.”

Apple Bloom perked up a little at that. Apparently Bastion really wasn’t trying to beat her at anything. Maybe he did care about how she felt.

“But can’t you get more?” Diamond Tiara tried. “It’s a two-week assignment. You could make good money selling changeling blood.”

Apple Bloom went wide-eyed at that remark.

Changeling Blood? No, it couldn't be.

“I know,” Bastion replied. “But I’m all out. I can’t make any more meat to put in it, I’m sorry.”

Meat?

Apple Bloom covered her mouth with her hoof to stop from calling out. Her breath quickened, and she hoped to all she held dear no one would see her eavesdropping like this.

“That’s alright, Bastion, no one’s forcing you," Rich assured him. "If you’re really not up to it, I know where to get more. I’m just saying that you’ve got a good product. I didn’t even believe Berry here when she said you’d been making it on your own, but… well, I stand corrected. I am honestly impressed.”

Get... more?

“Thank you, sir.”

“Something wrong, Bastion?” Diamond Tiara asked.

“Just feeling a bit weak, is all. Must be the shots." He blushed a bit, and from the reaction he got it looked like nopony believed him.

Berry Punch tilted her head at him.  

“My little sister was right, huh? You’re worried about Apple Bloom.”

Apple Bloom bit down on her hoof. She looked around nervously, reaffirming that she was still well hidden among the flowerpots.

“I just want her to be nice to me, that’s all.  It’s no biggie.”

“Why would you care? Everypony in town is acting nice to you now, aren’t they?” Diamond Tiara added.

“Everypony except Apple Bloom. I don’t think I want to compete with her for anything. It just doesn’t feel right.”

Apple Bloom’s heart was racing at this point. She didn’t know what to think.

“Well, if you really care about it that much, I could always try to help. Just let me know if you need any advice,” the filly offered.

Letting him join her team to she could exploit him was one thing, but this? Apple Bloom’s left eye twitched when she heard Diamond Tiara, of all ponies, be nice to the changeling. If ever there was anything that should set off the alarm bells in her mind, this had to be it. 

“That’s a good girl,” Filthy Rich offered. “Now, why don’t you two head on off. You don’t need to hear the grownups discussing boring business.”

Apple Bloom shot up and bolted clean out of the front garden. She didn’t think anypony would have seen her, and she was so amped up she never even touched the flowers or left a trace, but she wouldn’t have cared either way. She was panicking, she had to get away.





It was sundown by the time the filly got home.

“Did you have your talk with Bastion?” Big Mac asked, walking over from the kitchen to greet her.

“You heard about that, huh?”

“Eeyup. AJ told Granny Smith, Granny told me.”

“I-I was going to, but I lost my nerve. I thought I was going to do the right thing, but then all of a sudden it didn’t feel right anymore. I chickened out.”

The big stallion walked over and rubbed his little sister’s mane.

“It’s alright, Apple Bloom. Admittin’ when you’re wrong is a hard thing to do. It’s even harder to figure out when you’re wrong and when you’re not sometimes. Ya make mistakes, and it can hurt to own up to them. At least you're not tryin' to make his life hard over a misunderstanding.”

Apple Bloom shook her head, thinking.  

“I don’t want Bastion to feel bad. And even if I haven’t been trying to make him feel bad, I guess I haven’t really tried to make him feel better. But wouldn’t it be better if I just tried being nice in school? You know, so everypony else would see I’m not trying to be mean?”

“Sounds like a good plan, sis. Always show your true colours, that’s the best you can do.”

"Show your true colours. Okay, I can do that."

"Maybe you should just give him a little present. Somethin' you made, just as a peace offering," Big Mac offered.

With her brother’s advice finding some foothold in her mind, Apple Bloom nodded.

"I think I know just the thing to make everything alright."
> False Colours
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Chapter 6: False Colours

Apple Bloom yawned as she went outside to the playground for the break. She rubbed her bleary eyes and turned to the sound of buzzing. As she exited, she noticed Bastion hovering out with a big box in his hooves, or paws, she wasn’t sure what they were called.

“Anyone want to play a game?”

The rest of class swarmed around him as he opened up the box.

“What’s the game?” Rumble asked.

“It’s called ‘Warlock Craft’,” he replied with a mildly unsettling smile. “You play a warlock who’s trying to get his demon servants to take over the world.“

The foals circling him all stared as he folded out the playing field.

“You play on these hex tiles, and every corner has a resource. Depending on who you’re playing, you want different resources: Root Zombies start off needing grass, Cinders start off needing tar. You can check which is which on these cards.” he held up some big cards with the name of the demon race and pictures of the resources, framed by two circles. “Then as the game goes on, you can adapt so you can use other resources and put those on the empty circles there.”

“I’ve seen this,” Sweetie Belle remarked. “It’s ‘Dominance’, right?”

“Sort of. This is based on it, but it’s got a few differences. Every turn, you can spread out your food resources to different terrain tiles, so your pawns can survive on them. You can fortify your position and add pawns, but it depends on the type of terrain you’re on to see how much. You get food out of your pawns based on what you’re harvesting, and the amount of stuff you harvest determines your score; it’s the number of circles there times the number of pawns on the hex times the number of points that have it. Then you lose some of those resources as food, depending on how many pawns are on the square and how much they need. But you don’t just use them for food, you can send them into combat, too.  And you get special units.” Bastion got out another set of cards.  

The foals looked to one another as Bastion showed it all. He may as well have been talking about the infection vectors of tapeworms, for all they understood of it.

“Those are your avatars. They’re like hero units, and they cost different amounts of food. The good thing is: a hero can let you research spells to make the game more interesting. They can move around, spread your pawns, deal damage to the other player’s pawns. You get all sorts of spells, but you have to spend some of your resources to research them, and the kinds of spells you get depends on the kinds of resources you can harvest. If you want to research fireballs, you need a good amount of tar, so if you don’t have any tar you can’t use that spell. Plus, you spend spell power for every spell, and how you regain that depends on your hero and your race. Every hero’s got strengths and weaknesses, and every race has a passive ability you can use anytime.”

By this point, a few jaws were hanging slack and a couple of pairs of eyes went wide.

“Soooo… anyone wanna play?” Bastion asked with a shy smile.

Silence fell. Rumble, Silver Spoon, Snips and Snails were looking at all the race cards, Diamond Tiara and Piña Colada were looking at the hero cards, Apple Bloom was browsing through the rulebook with Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo hanging over her shoulder.  

“I don’t know. It looks kind of complicated,” Scootaloo started.  

“Yeah, Bastion. I don’t see how anypony would play this game,” Silver Spoon agreed. “Besides, it says on the box ‘Suggested for mature players.”

“That’s what the salespony told my mom when she got it.”

“And what did she have to say about that?” Rumble asked.

“She said: ‘Suggestion noted’. It’s not that hard, actually.”

“Yes. Yes, it is,” Piña Colada replied, still trying to make sense of all the rules.

Apple Bloom stole a few glances at her classmates, then one at Bastion. He looked embarrassed at bringing a game to school that was too complicated for anyone else to play. She smiled.

“I’ll try it. But you’ll have to be careful to keep the rules clear, okay?”

“Of course. It has to be fair. Which race do you want?”

Apple Bloom sat down and shuffled through the cards, comparing avatar cards and passive abilities.  

“Doomweavers. They can feed off their enemies, right?” she asked as she set up the pawns as the rulebook stated.

“Right. If you’re attacking with your pawns, you get food based on what I lose. And if your heroes take out my pawns, they regenerate health and spell points. Mine are Root Zombies: most of their abilities are about surviving and regrowth. They keep coming back no matter how often you beat them. And their passive ability gives more spell power to my heroes if they’re on friendly territory and past a critical mass.”

Apple Bloom nodded and smiled. A little ruffle through the bag of resources, a little bit of setting up, and the game was on. 





“Huh,” Apple Bloom remarked. “You know, this looked a lot easier in the manual.”

The little crowd around them seemed to agree. While the game was fast-paced enough to do a duel on their break, it did leave the board littered with pawns. Combat had been intense, with pawns falling on both sides, but Apple Bloom always being left at a disadvantage because of the regrowth abilities of her foes.

Bastion had outplayed her, pure and simple. His pawns had expanded to cover more ground while hers had mostly been locked in combat the whole game. Her avatar hadn’t fared much better, either. The Lord of the Web got plenty of kills, but Bastion’s Gleancrawler kept undoing a lot of her damage with his reviving abilities. He kept researching higher level revive spells, which made combat with the hero an uphill battle, even if it did hamper his damaging abilities.  

And to add further insult to injury, Apple Bloom lost so many pawns in combat she couldn’t catch up on the economic side of things. Bastion had played it pretty smart, all in all, avoiding risks and only really taking tiles of hers if he knew he would come out on top. Aside from that, he spent more time customising the tiles he could hold, so he got more resources from them.  

He was focused on food while she was focused on combat, and the food had won out. It had been a good game, and Apple Bloom had to admit that the changeling played fair. He’d always pointed out rules and abilities and made sure she knew what his units could do and what hers could do. She couldn’t blame him for losing, and the foals around still seemed to think it was anyone’s game.

She saw what was going to happen now, though.  

“I think you got me.”  She smiled warmly, though. It was an interesting game, and Bastion had kept his word on making sure things were fair.

Bastion winced.

“Yeah. Sorry.” 

“Don’t be: you didn’t cheat. You just used your abilities better than me.”

“Wait, how has Bastion won? You can still do a lot of damage to him next turn, right?” Sweetie Belle started.

“Nope, there’s not going to be a next turn. His race has got a passive ability that lets him supercharge a spell once enough pawns are on the hero’s square. And since he just got his Gleancrawler’s biggest spell up, I’m toast.”

“She’s right. I move my avatar to this marsh square here.” He motioned to the centre of the playing field and the edge of his opponent’s territory.  “And then I use my Gleancrawler’s ‘Living Plague’ ability. And because he’s got over twenty pawns on his tile, the range is two tiles higher than normal and the damage is twice as high.”

“Meanin’ I’m wiped out,” Apple Bloom admitted. “Good game, Bastion.”

Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle breathed a sigh of relief as their friend extended a hoof to the changeling for him to shake. She was finally acting nice to him.   

“Good game,” he replied as he shook that hoof, “you just didn’t focus enough on expanding. You need to make a good balance between getting food with your pawns and using them for combat.”

“Right.” Apple Bloom helped him clean up, their break nearly over. “But I guess for the ones you were playing that’s still different, since you can use your pawns to power your spells.”

“Yeah, I like the Root Zombies. They’re hard to master, but once you figure out the best way to turn your food into magic, you can make some interesting strategies.”

Apple Bloom froze for a moment as the bell rang.  

Turn food into magic.

“That did look pretty fun,” Scootaloo offered, “I wouldn’t mind trying that game sometime.”

They keep coming back, no matter how often you beat them.

“Apple Bloom? You okay?” Sweetie Belle asked.  

Concentrates on food first, because that powers his magic.

Bastion turned around to look at the filly. He looked happy, almost smirking.  

“Yeah, I’m fine,” she lied. “And actually, Bastion? Would you mind if I sat with you for lunch today? There’s some stuff I’d like to talk about. Alone, if that’s okay.”

“Sure,” the changeling replied with a flourish, making that odd clicking noise again like a bat.

Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle turned to their friend as the rest of class went in.

“What? I’m just bein’ nice, like I promised. I want to ask him a few things, get to know him. Ain’t that allowed either?”

Wordlessly, Scootaloo went in. Sweetie Belle stayed behind.

“Try to be careful with what you say to him, okay? I think Scootaloo might be getting a little upset about the whole thing.”

“Don’t worry, everything will be just fine.”





Bastion finished munching on his cucumber sandwich just as Apple Bloom got done with the last of her daisy sandwich. The other foals were already done with their lunch and were running about on the playground, leaving them both be.

“Want some apple juice?” she offered, holding up a bottle for him.

“Sure, thanks. I-I didn’t bring any red nectar for you, though.” He blushed.

“That’s okay, think of it as a little present. I made that just for you.”

Bastion smiled and took a long couple of gulps. He licked his lips when he was done.

“Thought you might like that.”

“Hmm, it’s great. I love apple. This isn’t the same kind of apple you put in the pies, though, right?”

“No, it’s one we keep for special occasions. Kinda like how your red nectar was for special occasions, wasn’t it?” Apple Bloom coyly inquired.

“Uh huh,” Bastion took another sip. “After battles, or if the Queen wanted to celebrate.”

“So that means you had normal food and drink, too. What are you used to eating? If you don’t mind me askin’.”

“I don’t mind,” he replied with a smile and a shrug. “Most of our food was the same thing every day: mushrooms, honey, acorns, whatever we could find. We didn’t farm too many different things, just what we needed to survive, and even then...”

“What about love? I mean, you do need that to live, right?”

Bastion nodded.

“Most of the time one of our infiltrators would ambush someone, put them in a pod, then take their place for a while. We can copy basic personalities on sight, but it’s not perfect, so they only have a little while before they’re found out. When the infiltrator is done feeding, they come back to the hive and share.”

“But how do you keep going now? Do your parents let you drain them?”

“No, no.” he shook his head vigorously. “It’s not like that at all. I don’t need to drain anyone. Love is something you give off, like heat. Draining someone means you have to peel away some things and let them bleed out. You can’t even do it if they don’t love you already. But if someone likes you, you can warm up to that and they don’t even notice. And even if no one likes you that much, just a little kindness works, too. It’s just different. We don't really need to hurt anyone to feed, not if we don't want to. It's just that we can take more than we need, and that does cause a lot of damage. But I don't do that, never have.”

“How much do you need, then?”

“Umm… well, it depends. It doesn’t just fuel magic, but it keeps it stable. They told me it’s like a vitamin and a steroid? If you have just enough, you can get stronger on your own. If you get a lot, that alone makes you stronger. But if you want to get stronger the fair way, you only need enough to survive, which isn’t that much.”

“And the ponies who get drained? I mean, the ones you feed off of just a little?” Apple Bloom asked carefully.

Bastion rubbed his throat.

“My throat hurts.”

“You should drink a little, then.  It’ll help.”

He took another few swigs of the apple juice, finishing it.

“It doesn’t hurt that much when you’re drained, not for a pony. You just get listless, I guess, maybe depressed. If it's freely given, you wouldn't even notice it happening.”

“That doesn’t sound so bad. At least you don’t turn ponies into changelings by draining them,” Apple Bloom remarked.

“No, there’s a spell for that,” he blurted out, eyes going wide when he realised what he’d said.

“You’re kidding.”

“It’s a pretty advanced spell, only royals are taught. And it doesn’t work for very long, it’s mostly a distraction.” He felt his throat again and finished his drink. “My tongue feels kind of weird.”

“Wait, hold on. You said only royals know that spell. Are you a royal, then? A changeling prince?” Apple Bloom went wide-eyed.

Bastion bit his lip.

“I-I’m not supposed to talk about it.”

“Then let’s talk about your drink. It must be something really special for ponies to like it so much.”

“Yeah, everypony who’s tasted it likes it.”

“And that’s because you put something special in it, isn’t it?” Apple Bloom tensed up just a little.

Bastion shivered and covered his mouth with his paw, but replied anyway.

“Y-yeah. Ramp from the council sent me a care package, I made the drink from that and some stuff of my own.”

Apple Bloom got up and leaned in close.

“Tell me, Bastion: what is your red nectar really?”

Bastion winced at her proximity. His jaw clenched, his paw moved to cover his mouth, but he still gave the filly a reply.

“It’s changeling blood,” he admitted.

“Say that again?” She leaned in closer.

“My red nectar is changeling blood, watered down.”

“I knew it!” the filly shouted, pointing at the changeling accusingly.  

Every foal from their class stopped what they were doing and turned to look at the pair.

“What is going on?” Scootaloo asked, walking over.

“Admit it, Bastion. Say it where everyone can hear it,” Apple Bloom commanded.

Bastion’s breath quickened, and he kept one paw to his throat, wincing like he’d swallowed something hard.

“Red nectar is changeling blood, watered down.”

“See? I knew there was something up with him,” Apple Bloom attested as the rest of the foals circled around.  

“So what?” Piña Colada asked. “Everypony who drank it knows it’s changeling blood. What’s the big deal?”

“What’s the big deal? He’s been selling poison, brainwashing ponies with a drink. You don’t even realise it’s changed you.”

Diamond Tiara smirked.

“Wait, hold on. You think Bastion has been using me and Silver Spoon to sell something that brainwashes ponies?” 

“He said so himself. It’s changeling blood. I heard you talking to Filthy Rich yesterday, Bastion, I know the whole story.”

“Sure you do,” Diamond mocked. “You think just because he’s a changeling, he’s trying to take over town. I knew you were dumb, but I didn’t think you’d be this stupid, blank flank.”

“Laugh all you want, but it’s over now. I don’t know how or why, but these little tricks stop now.” Apple Bloom glared at Diamond, then at Bastion.

Piña Colada stepped forward from the group and tapped Apple Bloom on the chest. She glared at the red-maned filly and looked to be fuming.

“Apologise. Apologise right now.”

“For what?” Apple Bloom asked, outraged.

“For thinking my sister would let something like that happen. She watched him mix the stuff before she tried it, she knows what's in it. Who do you think made the first batch for him? Who do you think found the right recipe for him? Who do you think bottled that stuff for him? Maybe if you hadn’t been so busy finding stuff to accuse him of, you might have noticed ponies actually wanted to help him with a good idea!”

“Yeah,” Rumble agreed. “How do you think he think he got the stuff around so fast? I’ve been doing deliveries around town for ponies who signed up. He hasn’t done anything wrong.”

“But it’s changeling blood, I heard. Bastion put meat in that stuff. You’ve just had so much of it you don’t even realise how gross it is.” 

Piña Colada slapped herself and snorted.

“Mead, Apple Bloom. He put mead in it. You heard wrong.”

“What?” Apple Bloom asked, raising an eyebrow.

“It’s a mix of honey mead, cherry juice and some other fruits. Changelings call it ‘red nectar’, ponies and griffons call it ‘changeling blood’. He put honey mead in it, it’s like wine with honey instead of grapes. And he had to water it down so everypony could drink it, like table beer. My sister looked up the right recipe for him because he only remembered the taste, he didn’t know how to make it and neither did any of the other changelings. Their queen kept all that to herself, she didn't share anything other races were using. Bastion just wanted something to remind him of home, so Berry helped him.”  Piña Colada shook her head, trying to make sense of her classmate’s accusations.  

“It’s true,” Bastion added. “The care package they sent me was fruit juice and honey. I made the first mead from the stuff I got from my own hive, that had the best taste in it. Berry Punch showed me how to do that when she came over, and it gave me something to keep me busy for the first two weeks, even if I was still a little sick. But I had to make more mead and I wound up having to do it too quickly. So Berry showed me how to distil the stuff so I could get a stronger taste and just mix it up with regular mead. I had to check the pots every day, stir the barrels, get the temperature right, and always add a little of everything to make sure all the bottles tasted the same.”

Piña Colada nodded at him.

“Ponies like it because it’s a little fancy, like wine, but it’s simple like lemonade and it barely has any alcohol in it. He made it himself once my sister showed him how. He worked hard to make the mix, and to get all that honey mead going. We helped because we thought it was a good idea and he put a lot of effort into it. He works just as hard as you do. And you’re standing there, shouting accusations at him for that. What is wrong with you?”

“What’s wrong with me? I’m not the one who’s been lying to everyone, or acting suspicious. Bastion’s not even an orphan, he told me himself,” Apple Bloom attested.

Everyone looked at the changeling, whose lips were quivering by now. His eyes weren’t watering up, though, which led Scootaloo to wonder if changelings could even cry at all.  

Apple Bloom turned towards him, panting with rage.

“Tell them. Tell the truth: your birth mom‘s not dead.”

Bastion bit his lip and shook his head.

“Stop it, Apple Bloom,” Rumble protested. “You’re hurting him. It’s bad enough that you pretended to make friends, but you’re hurting a classmate. Did you know about this, Scootaloo?”

The pegasus filly looked at her friend, then to Rumble, then to Bastion, who was now biting his paw as if trying to stop himself from blurting something out.

“No, I didn’t know she’d do this. You’re going too far, Apple Bloom. You can’t do this,” Scootaloo agreed.

“I am not going too far, I’m being fair. If he’s been lying to everypony, we should know about it. I just want him to tell the truth. Come on, Bastion, tell them. What’s the real deal with your mom?”

“Don’t,” Diamond Tiara told the changeling. “You don’t have to listen to this blank flank. She’s just jealous because she can’t do anything special and she can’t even do what she’s supposed to be good at. Why don’t we get Miss Cheerilee to work this out?”

“Apple Bloom, please stop?” Sweetie Belle tried, tears of sympathy starting to well up. Her friend was looking horribly tense, and all of class was staring at the two.

“Tell them, Bastion. Just admit that you lied. Where is your mom now?” Apple Bloom persisted.

The changeling clenched his eyes shut, the words stuck in his throat.

“M-mmm….” he stammered.

“That’s enough, Apple Bloom,” Rumble threatened, “if you don’t stop right now, I swear –“

“My mom’s a griffon!”

Silence fell. Apple Bloom blinked a few times before the boy’s words registered. He gasped for breath and rubbed his sore throat before explaining.

“My mom was sent to the griffons when my wings got their third hole, so I guess it was when I was five. She was supposed to go to this summer dance, hook up with someone, then come back. They gave her a new personality, some fake memories for her cover story, but… it worked too well. She never came back.”

Bastion slowly shook his head, and all of class winced in sympathy.

“It happens sometimes, you see. We do have a lot of different personalities in our hive, just like ponies, but it’s only the personality the queen gives you. If she makes you act like a soldier, you act like a soldier. If she makes you act kind, you act kind. It’s all there, but it’s all planted, all switched on and off. There’s nothing there behind the switch once it’s pulled, no backup. And sometimes the switch gets stuck.”

Apple Bloom’s mouth started hanging open as the implications sank in. She could feel her breath cutting off a bit as she realised just what she'd made him admit to.

“My mom forgot she was a changeling. Sapphire Gaze, our Archmage, went after her to get her back. She knew the shape, she could trace the smell they gave her, but by the time she found my mom… my mom was expecting. And the griffon she’d gotten love from had married her, he’d helped her get her paperwork in order. Sapphire thought maybe my mom just didn’t want to draw attention, but a couple of months later my mom had twins. She fit right in with the griffons, it just wasn’t worth the hassle to bring her back into the fold. No one noticed. They’ve got lots of little hamlets on the borders, so no one thought it was weird. She just moved to the city, and everyone thought she was a country girl. No questions asked. No turning back.”

“Didn’t your dad try to stop that?” Diamond Tiara asked.

“My dad was already dead by then. He went out to replace someone in this town in the middle of nowhere, I don’t know what country. It was a good location to get a foothold, so he was supposed to scout and get some love, that’s what I know. According to the scouts that got sent afterwards, he caught and replaced one of the locals. But his target got loose, and when they found him they drove him out of town. The scouts told me that someone must have thrown a rock that hit his head while he was trying to get away. He went down.”

Diamond Tiara swallowed, Silver Spoon grimaced. Bastion just let his head hang.

“And then the rest of town kept throwing rocks at him ‘til he stopped moving. That’s what they told me.”

Scootaloo reeled at the thought.

“Was it ponies?” 

“Does it matter?” he answered with a shrug. “My dad died, but my mom is still alive. My family isn’t all dead. I don’t know where you got that, I never said I was an orphan. Apple Bloom is right: I’m not. It doesn’t count.”

“Yeah, it does, Bastion. If your birth mom’s left you, it does count,” Sweetie Belle explained.

Bastion shook his head dismissively, swallowing hard to soothe the bunched up feeling in his throat that a lot of foals felt at that point.

“It’s not a big deal, really, not anymore. It happens. Lots of changelings don’t grow up with their birth moms. There’s no reason for me to be sad about it. She wouldn’t recognise me if she passed me by, she’d be worse off knowing she’s a changeling. I don’t count as her son anymore.”

Apple Bloom shook her head in sympathy.

“My mom’s not coming back for me. She doesn’t need me. She’s got a better life now, and two new sons. And now I get to have a better life, and two new moms. That’s fair, right?” Bastion asked calmly. He looked like he was holding back tears, though, or even trying to cry but unable to due to his anatomy.

“But if your mom and dad were drones, why aren’t you?” Sweetie Belle blurted out, holding up a hoof in front of her mouth after the question.

“If you’re not a drone yourself, some of your family won’t be, either, but not all of them. My uncle decided I shouldn’t be a drone. But my mom, she… she had two younger sisters. They weren’t drones, but they died in the wars. And my mom was older than my uncle, old enough to already be a drone when he was picked, so it couldn’t be helped. Then when my uncle died, that was the last of my family in the hive.”

“But what’s the big deal with your uncle, then?” Apple Bloom persisted. “Was he a king or something?”

“I don’t know. Sort of, I guess.”

Everyone backed away at that confession.

“And what does that make you?”

“Apple Bloom, you stop this instant,” Cheerilee interjected. “What are you doing to poor Bastion?”

The filly looked to the door of the school. Cheerilee was looking at her angrily, with Rumble right next to her. She hadn’t even noticed the boy leaving after his threat.

“I just wanted to hear the truth from him, I didn’t want to hurt him. I didn’t do anything wrong,” Apple Bloom started.

Cheerilee looked at the changeling, then to the filly. She narrowed her eyes and took a deep breath to steady herself.

“Really? Bastion, stick out your tongue, please.” 

Reluctantly, the boy stuck out his tongue. It didn’t look out of the ordinary, though.  Scootaloo’s jaw dropped a little when she realised what was going on.  

“Alright then, Apple Bloom. Are you happy now?” Cheerilee asked.

Apple Bloom looked to Bastion, Bastion looked right back. He was shaking like a leaf, and biting his lip.

“I-I’m sorry, Bastion. I just wanted to make sure.”

His eye fluttered and he rubbed his head, as if he’d had a shot of migraine. It looked just like when Cheerilee had asked him a math question he couldn’t answer.

“I-it’s fine, I think? I-I don’t know if I’m okay with this.”

“Lunch break is over, everypony.  Apple Bloom,” Cheerilee started, “go home and think about what you’ve just done.”

“What?”

“I don’t want to see you in class for the rest of the day. I’ll decide tomorrow what kind of punishment to give, but for now… you have a lot to think about.”

Apple Bloom looked away.  

“Sure, now you start punishing.”

“What was that, young lady?”

“Nothing, Miss Cheerilee.”





Apple Bloom lay in the clubhouse, head poking out the window and looking out at her home.  

“So you’ve been here all afternoon, huh?” Scootaloo asked as she came into the clubhouse with Sweetie Belle in her wake.

“Yeah. I haven’t even told my sister I got suspended yet.” Apple Bloom turned to face her friends.

“And have you thought about what you did?” the pegasus asked calmly.

“Yup, and I think I’ve finally figured it out. I know why Bastion’s here and not with the rest of them.”

“Why did you do that, anyway? You saw what happened when Cheerilee kept asking him questions, you know he doesn’t handle that like normal ponies,” Sweetie Belle insisted.

“I know. I wanted to be nice to him, I really did. I went over to his place, like you told me to, but then I heard Filthy Rich and Diamond Tiara talking, and Berry Punch. It just sounded like they were all fine with drinking changeling blood, even getting more of it to give to the rest of town. And I heard Bastion say he put meat in it. He said ‘meat’, I swear. I didn’t know what to think anymore, on top of everything else.”

“Now you know why his drink was so popular, at least. So why is he here?” Scootaloo asked.

“Bastion’s uncle was a king, but he lost his kingdom. Like he said, they had big wars and the other hives were destroyed. Bastion got captured, or maybe his uncle surrendered. He’s not with his family because his family’s not in that town. And on top of that, he can’t go live in that town because he’s not from the same hive as them.”

“Why would that matter?” Sweetie Belle asked.

“My sister told me once that princess Celestia is the reason we have peace now. If you make a contract with her and you break it, she’ll live long enough to remember it forever. If you sign a pact with ponies, it’s a pact with one pony who’s always going to be around. So that means princess Celestia’s the most honest pony alive, because she can’t back out on her word, ever.”

“I don’t get it,” Sweetie Belle started.

“The changelings signed a contract, but the contract says the settlement is for the ones who were from Chrysalis’ hive. If princess Celestia ever backs out of a contract like that, then every contract she’s ever signed would be worthless. Every other nation she made a deal with would have an excuse to break the rules. And every changeling alive would be fair game, including the ones that surrendered. They probably only thought of that after they signed, so it can’t be changed now. And since Bastion isn’t from the same hive, that contract doesn’t apply to him. So he doesn’t get to live with them.”

Scootaloo nodded in understanding.

“You know, you look kind of thirsty.”

“I’ve been here for hours, with nothing to do, so yeah. I kind of am.”

Scootaloo gave her one of their bottles of apple juice, which Apple Bloom took some greedy swigs of.

“Thanks. I really messed up this time, didn’t I?”

“Yup. And it’s all because you just can’t be nice to changelings.”

“I can too be nice to changelings. Bastion’s just been manipulatin’ me, that’s all. He pretended to be like me so I’d drop my guard, and then he set me up so I’d look like a jerk.”

“So you really still think Bastion’s evil, after all that?” 

Apple Bloom sighed, then rubbed her lips.

“He’s taking advantage of the fact everyone’s all nice to him just because he’s an orphan, and he has been from the start. That’s not right. Look at how everypony treats him special: he’s milking this whole thing. He’s got every grownup wrapped around his paw, for no reason. He’s even worse than Diamond Tiara.”

“And that’s why you thought it was a good idea to hurt him like that and force him to talk,” Scootaloo reasoned.

“It was the only way to make sure. Why do you care?” Apple Bloom started to get annoyed at the interrogation.

“I care because he’s a classmate, a blank flank who is trying to fit in and who is kind of like you. He tries really hard to fit in and find something he’s good at, just like us. And he cares a lot about playing fair, you saw it. Yet the only thing you’ve done is make him feel bad about himself and accusing him of the silliest things. You could have been friends with him, Apple Bloom, and instead you hurt him.”

“I’m just as nice to him as I am to the other colts in class.”

“You really believe that?” Scootaloo asked. “That’s funny, because you didn’t pull this sort of stunt when Pipsqueak first came to town. You never grilled Rumble like you did Bastion.”

“Scootaloo, come on. Apple Bloom was just worried,” Sweetie Belle offered.

“That’s right, I was. He shouldn’t be here, even if he isn’t from the same hive. He should just go back to the rest of those bloodsuckers,” Apple Bloom blurted out, before feeling her throat.

“Apple Bloom!” Sweetie Belle objected. “That’s a horrible thing to say.”

Apple Bloom winced, taking another sip of her drink. Her throat felt tight all of a sudden.

“I know. I’m not sure what’s wrong with me. I feel like someone’s cut into my heart and I just don’t see it. I’m so angry and I can’t even figure out why.”

“Maybe it’s because you know you should have been nice to Bastion, and now you finally feel guilty,” Scootaloo retorted. “You’re just full of hate, Apple Bloom. It’s like you’re not the same pony anymore. You crossed the line today.”

“So what? It was fair: he’s a changeling. You can’t tell if they mean it or if they’re faking it when they act nice. For all I know he’s plannin’ his next move right now. And if you care so much about him, why don’t you go flying to him? I’m sure he’d love to hang out with another fake!” 

“You think he’s a fake? You think I’m a fake?” 

“Why should I listen to either of you, anyway? You can’t fly and you can’t use magic. Maybe that’s why you’re all for defending him: you’re just as fake as that bugface is. You try to be like some pony you look up to, but you’re never goin’ to be like them. I guess he’s got more in common with you than with me; you two are constantly tryin’ to copy Rainbow Dash or Rarity, but you’re never gonna be more than fakes. At least I act like my own self,” Apple Bloom ranted, before noticing Sweetie Belle’s eyes watering up.

She held up her hooves and tried to cover her mouth. Staring at her friends, Apple Bloom realised she’d been had. Scootaloo’s calm, unrelenting gaze confirmed her suspicion.

“Silver Tongue Serum. Turns your tongue grey, and makes you tell the truth. I found that bottle in your room, along with the book Zecora gave you for your birthday. You really did it this time. You slipped truth serum to a classmate just to get him to talk about the family he lost, because you thought he was faking the whole thing, and you did it in front of the whole school. You’re a monster, Apple Bloom.”

“It’s not Silver Tongue Serum in that bottle. You saw it: his tongue was still red. Look at mine.” She stuck out her tongue, revealing it to be red, still.

“That’s because you know your way around potions. You know how to make so it doesn’t leave a trace. Miss Cheerilee knew what you did, but she couldn’t prove it. That’s why you were so tired this morning: you got up early to experiment.”

Apple Bloom huffed and crossed her forelegs in front of her chest.

“So what if I did? At least now I can be sure.”

“Yeah. And now we know how you really feel about us,” Sweetie Belle sobbed, crying in earnest now.

“I-I didn’t mean it like that, honest. I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” the little Earth pony stammered, sobbing as well.  

“You know, I don’t even wanna hear it,” Scootaloo started. “I can understand being scared of a changeling, but we’re your friends. If you really don’t wanna put up with us fakes, after all we’ve been through, I don’t want to make you. Goodbye, Apple Bloom.”

With that, Scootaloo walked off, with a sobbing Sweetie Belle in tow.

“Please don’t,” Apple Bloom begged. “I didn’t mean to, honest.”

Sweetie Belle just shook her head and followed her friend out.  

Apple Bloom let her head hang, staring at the floor. Her eyes burned, and tears made their way down her face.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. It’s not my fault.”

She lifted her head at the sound of creaking boards. The shadow of a figure crept over the floor, a figure with a Stetson hat.

“Are you gonna yell at me too, sis?” 

Applejack took a deep breath.

“After what your teacher told me, I got half a mind to, but no. I think you’ve had enough yellin’ for one day. Why’d you do it, Apple Bloom? You can’t have thought it was a good idea, not after everything else you’ve been through.”

“I didn’t. I really didn’t. I wanted to be nice, I wanted to be wrong about him, even after what I heard. I only made that potion just in case. Bastion brought this game to school and nopony wanted to play, I thought maybe if I tried it I’d see things more clearly. And I did. He played fair, it was fun, I didn’t mind that I lost. And he’s really smart, that’s why he beat me. I thought I was wrong about him. I wanted to be wrong about him.”

“So what happened?” Applejack went to lie down next to her.

“It was this strategy game, with gathering food and spells. He had his plan all worked out, I could tell. After the game was over, he said something about the way he’d played. He said he liked to play the way he did because he turned food into magic.”

“Oh, sugarcube,” Applejack offered, rubbing the filly’s back, “you thought he meant it like that?”

“It’s true, I did like him. Not at first, but once I got to know him a little… he’s tryin’ so hard, and he winds up acting like me. I’m not sure he even realises it, he hasn’t been watching me or anything. I wouldn’t mind having a friend like him, honest. I just don’t want to be food for him.” Apple Bloom shivered at the admission.

“You know that’s not how it works, Apple Bloom. What’s really bothering you?” the mare insisted.  

“I don’t know, sis. I really don’t know. I want to like him, I do. But now every time I think of him all I can think of is how angry I am with him. I don’t wanna hate him, but I do. I hate him so much now, it’s drivin’ me crazy.”

“So what’s he done to deserve that?” 

“If I knew, I’d tell you. I don’t wanna be a bad pony, but I just can’t shake this feeling. I don’t know what it is, but it hurts, it hurts so much I can’t think straight.”

Applejack sighed. Her little sister was breaking down, it seemed. She didn’t look angry now, but hurt. 

Guess if it works for manticores, it works for ponies, too.

“Alright then. How about you and I go over to his place sometime and talk this out. We can work out whatever it is that’s bothering you, with you and him sitting down and talking.  No shoutin’, no hatin’, no jumpin’ to conclusions and running off, just talk.”

Apple Bloom tensed up at the thought, shaking her head and looking away with gritted teeth.

“Or you could just sit here for a while and wait for that anger to die down first,” Applejack said gruffly as she got up to leave.  “This isn’t like you, Apple Bloom. Whatever’s goin’ on, you need to work through it. That boy is not going to go away, you don’t have a say in that. He’s trying to get used to you, you need to get used to him. If you want to talk, you know where I’ll be.”

Apple Bloom dried her tears with a foreleg and nodded. She gulped.

“Think I’ll just wait for the truth serum to wear off first.”

“Suit yourself.”





“I can’t believe that girl,” Bon Bon started. “She slipped him truth serum?”

“Yeah,” Scootaloo replied, “I think she’s gone nuts or something.”

“Maybe we were a little harsh on her? She looked really upset,” Sweetie Belle offered, drying her tears.

“Sweetie, if she’s angry enough to yell at you like that, it’s best to leave her alone. Let her simmer down first,” Lyra replied. “What’s gotten into her, though?”

Scootaloo shook her head.

“I don’t know. What does Bastion think about all this?”

Bon Bon shrugged.

“He just went up to his room after he checked his bees. Piña couldn’t get him to talk much, he didn’t say anything to either of us. I think he’s just confused; he doesn’t know how to feel about this sort of thing. Didn’t even want a treat to feel better. Oh, which reminds me, do you girls want something to drink?”

The girls nodded, then clenched their teeth when Bon Bon came in with some glasses of that red nectar.

“What’s wrong?” 

Scootaloo smiled nervously.

“Nothing. It’s just that… Apple Bloom never got around to asking whether Bastion put anything else in his drink.”

Bon Bon set the drinks in front of the fillies.

“And what do you think, then?” 

After a moment of thinking, Scootaloo shrugged and took a good sip, licking her lips at the sweet taste. Sweetie Belle following suit a little more sparingly.  

Bon Bon smiled and called out.

“Bastion, honey? Feel like coming down now?”

No answer came. Lyra looked back to the staircase leading up to his room.

“There are some fillies here to see you, sweetie.”

Still no reply.  

The mares looked at each other for the briefest moment before rushing up the stairs. The fillies came after them, and found Bon Bon and Lyra in a state of near panic.

“He’s gone. He slipped out, Lyra. He’s gone and he’s alone. He can’t be alone.”

“It’s okay, he wouldn’t just run off like that. Did he leave a note or anything?” Lyra asked, looking around.

Sweetie Belle went up to his bed and checked the nightstand. A little piece of paper was on it, with squiggly writing.

“Off to see Apple Bloom. Fixing everything.”

Lyra’s eyes went wide.

“He’s going to see Apple Bloom. Where’s Apple Bloom right now, exactly?”

Sweetie Belle shook at the sudden shift in tone.

“She’s at our clubhouse. But Bastion’s never been there, he doesn’t know where it is.”

“Doesn’t matter, he can track her scent. We need to get there right now. If his conditioning’s come up from all this stress, he’s going to hurt her.”





Apple Bloom huffed to herself as she tried to make sense of everything. She pictured Bastion, and couldn’t stop herself from clenching her jaw. He’d tricked her somehow, she was sure of it. The anger she was feeling just didn’t make any sense. From the first day, she’d felt off around him.  

It had to be him.  

She just couldn’t figure out why.

Why me?

“I’m the general,” she heard him say.

Apple Bloom turned towards the door. The changeling was standing there, all alone, deathly calm.  

“What?”

“You wanted to get to know me. You wanted to know what I was. I’m the one in charge of Queen Chrysalis’ armies,” Bastion explained.

“So you are from the hive that attacked us.  And you are a prince. Why would you tell me about that? What are you doing here?”

With a quick flash of green flame, Bastion changed shape.

He turned into her.  

Her twin, her clone, an identical copy stood right in front of her, smiling.  

A replacement.

She growled at him and pounced. With her enemy caught off guard and quickly changing back to his regular shape, she bowled him over and managed to push him over the boards leading up to the clubhouse. He hissed as they rolled over the walkway, digging his little fangs into her neck.

They landed and squared off for another round. Bastion looked furious, mindless, even. His breath came in ragged hisses, she was panting. Apple Bloom felt light-headed with adrenalin, and wasted no time lunging for him again. He sidestepped her tackle, giving her a blow to her belly with the back of his left foreleg.  

She wheezed as it knocked the air out of her.

Turning for the follow-up, his right leg went up, aiming a blow to her head.

He hesitated.

She didn’t.  

With barely time to breathe, Apple Bloom found the opening she needed and gave him a firm buck to the head with her hind hooves. The changeling sailed through the air, then bounced off the ground as he landed.

Apple Bloom panted heavily. She’d gotten him. She’d finally beaten the changeling. Now she could be at peace.

A vague dripping sound caught her attention. Looking down, she saw the red drop on the grass. Looking to the prone changeling, she noticed the red stain on Bastion’s left leg, on the sharp bit that had popped her ball.

She didn’t want to look down at her belly, especially with the feeling of another drop falling over it mixing with that of a nasty cut.  

Eventually she did, though. Bastion was out cold, but she had a gash that ran over nearly the whole length of her torso.  

She was bleeding. Badly.  

Apple Bloom went faint in the head as she sat down. Her whole world went blurry and she felt her head grow heavy.  

She lay her head on the grass and tried to keep her eyes open, breath slowing down.

Then everything went dark.

> Breaking the Cocoon
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Chapter 7: Breaking the Cocoon

Apple Bloom came to in a bright room, surrounded by familiar faces. Applejack, Cheerilee and a doctor on her left, Lyra and Bon Bon on the right. Blue-ish green walls beyond them, an open door leading to a hallway where nurses carted books and equipment around, it didn’t take her long to realise where she was. She moved to rub her belly, and found her hoof touching gauze that was wrapped around her tightly. No IV’s, no icepacks, and none of the adults looked especially relieved to see her.

Which begged the question: had she not been in real danger, or did nopony really care if she had? At this point, neither answer would have surprised her.

“I’ll leave you to talk,” the doctor announced, “she should be fine.”

“Applejack?” Apple Bloom asked as the doctor went out. “What happened? Are Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle here? Where’s Bastion?”

“We sent your friends home, we didn’t want them to see you like this. As for our son, he is in the room next door, recovering from the beating you gave him,” Bon Bon replied coldly. “And I’m sorely tempted a mind to return the favour, little missy.”

Lyra put a comforting hoof on her mate’s shoulder.

“Easy, Bonsy, why don’t we let her explain what happened. I’m sure there’s a reason.”

“Bastion came to me in the clubhouse. He said he was in charge of Chrysalis’ armies and then he turned into me. I thought he was there to replace me, to get to my sister or something. So I stopped him. And he got me just as bad as I got him.” Apple Bloom rubbed the now bandaged cut on her belly.

“He didn’t cut you that bad, Apple Bloom,” Applejack assured. “It didn’t go too deep. You passed out from the shock of seeing your blood and gettin’ so hyped up over nothing.”

“I’m surprised at you, Apple Bloom,” Cheerilee started. “It’s not like you to lash out a classmate like that.”

“Yeah, well… he had it comin’.”

“How?” Bon Bon asked. “What’s he done to deserve that?”

Apple Bloom snorted, looking at the four grownups ganging up on her.

“I don’t know. He just makes me angry, is all. It’s not my fault.”

Cheerilee wasn’t having any of it.

“Yes, it is, Apple Bloom. Bastion needs friends, he’s having a very hard time. Why can’t you be nice, like I asked you? Like your sister asked you? Don’t you think you should be nice to someone who’s lost his parents?”

Apple Bloom bit her lip and clenched her eyes shut as tears of rage started welling up.

“Why should I? My parents aren’t around either and nopony ever treated me special for that!”

Silence fell. Apple Bloom gasped when she realised what she’d just said.

“Wait, that’s what’s gotten you so upset? Ponies being nice to him because he’s…” Applejack asked. “Oh, Apple Bloom, why didn’t you tell anyone?”

“I shouldn’t have to tell you. I didn’t… I wanted to be nice to Bastion when he came around, I really did. But then just before he started going to school Miss Cheerilee had this big speech in class. She kept telling us how we were supposed to be extra nice and then you went and told me I had to make friends with him. I didn’t even know him, sis, you can’t ask that. It’s not fair to him or to me.”

“So this whole time, you were upset because of what we did?” Lyra asked, incredulous.

“Not you, or Bon Bon. But everypony else. You just showed him around town, introduced him, I know that. But Applejack, Cheerilee, Rarity, everypony else keeps treating him special, and I keep hearing how sad it is he’s lost everything, but he’s not sad. He looked happy whenever I saw him, and that didn’t add up with everything I heard. You made him look like a cheat because of what you did. Bastion never made a big deal about losing his family, he’s fine the way he is. You’re right: I shouldn’t be angry at him, I should be angry at you.” She shot Applejack and Cheerilee an angry look.

“Now hold on there,” Applejack interjected.  “We were just trying to help make him feel better.”

“No, you weren’t.  You just assumed he was miserable and you never thought to ask if maybe he wasn’t. Aside from Lyra and Bon Bon, I’m the only pony who cared about how he was feeling instead of how ponies told me he was feeling. You were all acting the way you were and saying those things when he was happy, but what are you gonna do when he does start crying? You don’t mourn on a schedule, you don’t get to decide when he has to feel happy or sad, and it’s not fair that you give him fake comfort when you should be making him feel like a normal pony.”

Apple Bloom panted and caught her breath. She idly wondered if that truth serum had subsided by now or not. Maybe Scootaloo had slipped her an overdose. Still, that pang in her chest started feeling better, so she kept on going.

“All you ever did was remind him of the bad stuff. Bastion has a family, they’re standing right there.” She pointed to Lyra and Bon Bon. “You keep treating him like he has to be sad, but he doesn’t. He should enjoy being happy while he can, and you're doing everything to stop him. And when it does finally hit him, he'll know that you don't care about how he feels, because you're gonna be doing the exact same thing you did when he was happy, and that's horrible. Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle just did what you told them to, but that doesn’t help him make friends at all. It just makes him more alone. It’s not fair.”

Apple Bloom sighed, looking down.

“He’s happy now, and you shouldn’t act like he’s not.”

“This isn’t just about how Bastion feels, is it?” Lyra asked, wincing in sympathy.

“No, it’s not. I did want to be friends with him once I got to know him a little. He looked just like those old pictures of my family when he had his bees on him, and he looked really dedicated, I liked that. There aren’t any other foals around who are into farming or stuff like that, it was a relief. And I liked playing that game with him, at least he tried to keep it fair. He’s nice, and he’s smart. But every time I saw someone treat him special or talk about how I couldn’t say anything about him, I just got so mad inside. Every time I tried to get to know him, there was always something to make him look bad, there was always something that hurt me, and because I couldn’t say anything I never told him about it until it was too late. I thought it was him, but it wasn’t. It was because of you.” 

“But what do you mean? What have ponies been doing to you, then?” Cheerilee asked.

“When that whole ‘Gabby Gums’ thing happened, everypony turned on me. No one went easy on me because of my parents. When Diamond Tiara calls me names, no one ever stops her, not even when you’re standing right where you can hear it. No one cares about my parents not being around, and I was fine with that until you started doing it for him. It’s not fair that you care about that for him and not me. And it hurts, it hurts so much.”

Awkward silence fell when the grownups realised what was going on. Apple Bloom tried to dry her tears as she got her frustrations off her chest.

“I got over it a long time ago. I was happy until he came around. But he’s in the same situation I am. His birth parents aren’t around, mine aren’t around either. But I’m happy, just like he is, and if you act like he should be sad, then that means I should be sad, too. You don’t know how much that hurts, to have ponies act like you haven’t dealt with things. It makes everything feel hollow and pointless, and it makes you feel alone when you do start feeling sad. And I guess… I just didn’t want to admit it was the ponies around me who were hurting me, so I pushed it down instead of admitting to myself what it was. I wound up taking it out on him.”

“That’s no excuse to beat the boy up, Apple Bloom, or poison him like you did,” Cheerilee protested. “For someone who says she wants to be friends, you certainly don’t act like it.”

“Yes, she does,” a voice came behind them.

Bastion was standing in the doorway, sobbing. His head had a bandage on it, with what looked like a cold compress pressed against a bump a little on the right side of his horn. Apple Bloom had stopped crying, but she had to rub her eyes to check if she wasn’t seeing things. Bastion hadn’t cried when she’d forced him to talk, so she’d just assumed – as had most of their class – that changelings weren’t capable of crying.

But hearing all this made him cry?

“Apple Bloom did like me. She’s not lying, she did want to be friends with me. And you made her hate me.” He looked accusingly at Applejack and Cheerilee.

“Sweetie, I know you want to be nice, but I think your brain might be a teensy bit concussed,” Lyra remarked.

“The one in my head, maybe. It’s not like I don’t have any spares,” the boy replied casually.  

“Bastion, Apple Bloom was mean to you. That’s a sure sign she’s lying about wanting to make friends,” Cheerilee explained.

The filly's eyes went wide as the pieces of the puzzle fell into place.

“Not to him, it isn’t. You don’t just feel love or friendship, you feed off it, don’t you, Bastion? You don’t need to guess about friendship or love. You know when someone really likes you, it doesn’t matter how they act around you.”

The boy kept on glaring.

“You made her hate me. What did you say to her?”

“I just told her she should try to make friends with you after you came by my stand. I thought it might help if you made a friend your first day of school,” Applejack replied.

“I told everyone in class to be nice to you, to make you feel welcome,” Cheerilee replied. “It was just to help you make some friends.”

Bastion’s eyes went wide in outrage.

“T-That’s horrible! What did I ever do to you?”

Bon Bon slowly walked over to her upset son.

“Honey, calm down.”

“No, mom, I can’t. I was doing fine and they ruined it. Now Apple Bloom hates me and there’s nothing I can do about it. You’re just as bad as Chrysalis, both of you!” he shouted, before running off with Bon Bon in hot pursuit.

“What just happened?” Cheerilee asked.

Lyra rubbed her temples with her hooves.

“You forgot he can tell when someone’s faking friendship or love. We all forgot.”

Applejack and Cheerilee shot each other a quizzical look.

“He doesn’t feel when someone really likes him, he feeds off it. He either gets stronger or he doesn’t, he can’t read minds. But he knows the difference between someone acting nice and someone who wants to be friends. And you just said to his face you don’t think he can make friends on his own. He thinks you told ponies how to feel around him, not just how to act. And considering where he came from, that’s pretty harsh.” 

“What? I didn’t mean that,” Applejack started. “And what does this have to do with Apple Bloom?”

“He was confused,” Apple Bloom concluded. “He knew I liked him, he must have picked up on it when he showed me his bees. He never felt me get angry at him, he just saw me acting angry. He didn’t know what was bothering me, he was scared to ask. And I was so frustrated I didn’t even know what for. I even started thinking he was using a spell or something. But it wasn’t his fault. It was never his fault.”

Apple Bloom gritted her teeth as she steeled her resolve. With a determined grunt, she got out of the bed and hopped to the floor.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Cheerilee asked.

“To make things right.”

“Let her go,” Applejack insisted. “This is between the two of them.”





“Bon Bon? Could I talk to him for a bit, alone?” Apple Bloom asked when she found them outside, locked in a warm embrace. “I promise I won’t hurt him.”

He nodded up to the mare.

“It’s okay, mom.”  

Reluctantly, Bon Bon let go of the hug and walked back towards the hospital, where the other mares were waiting out of earshot.

“I’m sorry, Bastion. For everything. Including that nasty bump on your head.”

He shrugged.

“It’ll fade, and it doesn’t hurt that much. I’m sorry for cutting you. It’s just these things I’ve got.” He turned his forelegs to show the spurs that, despite his best efforts, looked rather sharp. “I’m so sorry, I just panicked. It was a reflex. I didn’t want to fight you, not for real. I didn’t lose it, I swear, I knew what I was doing.  It was just an accident: the other times I did that move, it was with someone who had plates there. I would have hit you in the head, but then I noticed your bow and I didn’t want to cut it. And I really didn’t want to make you angry.”

“I know. You were tryin’ to cheer me up the whole time, weren’t you? You turned into me because you noticed ponies liked it when you changed shape.”

“Uh huh. I thought it might make you smile if I tried a shapeshifting trick, like it did for the rest of our class. I thought you wouldn’t hate me if I made you smile. And maybe if you knew my secret, we could be friends, because that’s what friends do. I should’ve known you’d get upset, but I didn’t know what else to do. It was the only thing I could think of that really came from me." He groaned, embarrassed. "I should have just given you a honey waffle.”

“You tried, and don’t worry: I mess up like that too. All the time, really. It’s my fault it all got out of control. I thought maybe you were just lying and manipulating ponies to like you, that you were faking the whole thing. Seein’ how they acted around you, just because of what happened to you, it made me angrier than I thought I could be. The way they talked about you, it just didn’t add up with how you really acted. Then when I saw what you were doing, I guess deep down I just wanted you to be bad, and the things I saw and heard just got warped. I don’t know if that makes any sense, but–”

“It does. It’s hard to accept that someone close to you can betray you like that. And it’s a lot easier to put the blame on someone you don’t know. It feels a lot better, pretending someone else is to blame. And it’s even better if you pretend so hard you forget why you’re angry.”

Apple Bloom winced.

“You too, huh?”

The changeling nodded solemnly.

“It took me a long time to accept that it wasn’t griffons who took my mom. But… deep down, I knew it wasn’t fair to griffons. I didn’t want my birth mom to be sad, or her other sons. It was just easier to pretend it was the griffons' fault and not the Queen’s. Chrysalis was supposed to watch out for me, for all the changelings of our hive, but she didn’t. Thinking she did and that it was griffons who hurt me just came natural. Made it hurt less. It just took time for me realise that, too.”

“That still doesn’t make what I did fair to you. I said so many nasty things about you, like it was okay.”

“Not to my face, you didn’t. Before today, I didn’t even know you had a real problem with me. I didn’t feel anything but friendship coming from you, even if you didn’t act like it. I understand. I’m sorry, I really am. This is all my fault.”

“No, it’s not. You didn’t know I was angry,” the filly protested.

“Yes, I did. I felt something when you saw me with my bees, something I hadn’t felt with any other pony in Ponyville yet. It felt like you thought I was one of you, like you were happy I was there. But then you never tried talking to me about it. You felt happy for just a moment, but you never acted happy after that. I didn’t know what to make of it, but I didn’t want you to think I was invading your privacy.”

“That still doesn’t make it your fault. There was nothing you could have done. I wouldn’t have listened.”

“I could have told your friends. You’d have listened to them. I could have asked a grownup to talk to you, I would have helped. I know how it feels to get angry like you did, I could have helped if I hadn’t been so scared of upsetting you. And they shouldn’t have scared you about upsetting me like they did. Sapphire said we changelings would deal with our problems like ponies do, and ponies solve this by talking, not by scaring each other. We could have worked this out sooner if I’d just talked with your friends about it.”

“Maybe. And…” she took a deep breath, “I want you to know that I don’t hate you, not now that I know. But at least a part of me was scared of what you might do.”

“So what? Lots of ponies can do scary things. If you’re scared of what I can do, you should be able to tell me. We can both cause some serious damage to each other, that doesn't mean we can't talk about that. I should have just said something about how ponies were acting. It didn’t feel normal, but I didn’t know what to do about it.”

Apple Bloom tilted her head at him. If she kept arguing over the blame like this, they’d be at it all night. Besides which, the boy would have one whopper of a headache at the end of it, if he didn't already. And right now, she had a more pressing question. One she assumed he would feel a lot better explaining.

“What exactly did you get from me, then? And when?”

“You didn’t think anything of me when I came to class first. You treated me like I was just another classmate, and you didn’t mean to hurt me then, I know that. You felt the same way your big sister felt about me at first, like a stranger. Then when you saw my bees, I don’t know. It was different from anything I’d gotten from any other pony, or anyone in my hive. I think I reminded you of something really old, or something. Like I was really an Earth pony, just like you. I wanted that to be real, to be how other ponies saw me, as well. Only… it didn’t work.”

“Why would you want to be an Earth pony? You can fly, and you’ve got magic,” Apple Bloom said.

“I don’t really need to fly anywhere. I’ve got nowhere to be in a hurry, I like going slow around here to see all the sights. And there’s nothing I use magic for that I can’t do without it, even working with my bees. But Earth ponies work the land, right?”

Apple Bloom nodded.

“Some of them do.”

“So that means they help get food for other ponies. That means other ponies don’t have to worry about getting food because of Earth ponies. If it wasn’t for ponies like you and your family, then your builders would have to be farmers, your artists would have to be farmers, even your soldiers would have to be farmers. If it wasn’t for ponies like you, towns like Ponyville would be just like my hive. You’re special because you let other ponies be special.”

The girl chuckled at him.

“You know, that might be the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”

Bastion blushed.

“I really wanted to be like you, that’s why I tried so hard to get that silly drink sold. I thought if I could make something that ponies liked to eat or drink, then I’d fit in. And keeping bees is something both changelings and ponies do, so I thought maybe I could use that to start my new life here. And I hoped if you’d like me, then that’d make it official. If you could get other ponies to treat me like I was just another Earth pony, then I’d really count as an Earth pony. That’s why I didn’t ask you for the assignment; I wanted to prove that I could do it on my own, and not just copy you. I was just hoping part of me would turn out to be close enough to an Earth pony, and if I could show you that, it’d be real and not just a fake.”

“You really like that little hive you’ve got, huh?”

The changeling nodded.

“It’s something I can take care of. I check the larvae every day to make sure they’re healthy, no mites feeding off them. I can show them where to find the tasty flowers to make the honey taste just the way it needs to, I don’t even need to use magic for it. It’s sort of like talking with your skin, little electric flashes. It’s fun, and it’s fair. I take care of them, I show them where to find food, they give me honey. Like Earth ponies take care of plants or chickens. It’s something I’m good at, and I like what I get out of it. And the bees help plants spread, so I’m even kind of helping the land.”

“Yup,” Apple Bloom agreed, “just like an Earth pony would, in your own way.”

“Thanks. I’ve never really had a choice, but being here in Ponyville made me realise that if I ever could be a pony, I’d want to be an Earth pony. But I’m not, and I can’t change that. And it was wrong to try and force it like that, I know that now. I should have stopped when I noticed my drink was upsetting you, but you never stopped liking me until today. I thought it was something else, that you’d feel better if I didn’t bother you for a few days and treat me like an Earth pony again.”  

“That didn’t work out either.”

“No. I don’t think it would have ever helped. Even if you did treat me like an Earth pony, it wouldn’t really count. I really want this, but I know I can’t force it, it’s so frustrating. I just want it to feel real, and not pretend. Maybe if I just change shape once for keeps, drop my wings and horn, look like a real Earth pony?”

Apple Bloom’s ears perked at that.

“You shouldn’t talk like that. There’s nothing wrong with you, not really. You don’t need a magic fix if you’re not sick. Trust me, I’ve tried. Even if it worked, after a while you’d be unhappy. You wouldn’t have earned it.”

“I know how that feels. I started feeling so bad just for using the care package they sent me. Ramp wanted me to have something that reminded me of home, so he sent a couple of barrels of cherry juice and some other fruits, along with some honey. I had to do some of the work on my own, get the taste just right, but it still felt fake. I don’t want to just be here, I want to belong here. And I guess that means I have to earn it the hard way and not just try and get approval from you.” The boy sighed. “I really wish I’d figured that out sooner.”

Apple Bloom smiled warmly.

“It’s not as hard as you might think, and I think it’s mighty big of you to figure it out as quick as you did. It took me a while, too. But you have to understand that what you do and the way you were born aren’t the same thing for us. You don’t have to be an Earth pony to make food.”

“I know, my moms told me. There’s Pinkie Pie, who makes parties and cakes, Rarity, who makes dresses and can find gems… you’ve got so much choice here. Even a blank flank like you can do what she really feels like. You can go looking for what makes you happy. That is what a pony talent really is, right? What makes you happy?”

The filly nodded.

“Pretty much. When a pony finds it, things are supposed to just run smoothly, and they practise their talent to get better at it. But because they’re happy doing it, they already have a knack for it. Doesn’t stop them from doing anything else, though. Shouldn’t stop you.”

Bastion shook his head at the thought, no doubt seeing memories of single-purposed drones flash before his eyes.  

“It doesn’t. I just want to try some simple stuff first. It’s my first time for everything, so I’d like to see what I’m good at and what I’m not. And I’m still getting used to keeping bees, actually, I really didn’t do that much of it back home. I just want to get this start right before I try something else. Something to fall back on if I fail, you know?”

Apple Bloom smiled at him.

“That’s a good attitude.  But,” the filly started, “if you don’t mind my asking, what exactly were you before you came to Ponyville? You said you were a general? You’re not older than you look, are you?”

The changeling bit his lip.

“No.  It’s a little more complicated than that.”





Bastion sighed as he went through the waxen corridors. Entering a great hall, he found his Queen wrapping up her instructions to what he assumed was a raiding party.

“Ah, just the boy I was looking for. Come here, Bastion,” Chrysalis commanded.

Slowly, he walked up to the imposing creature. As if her long legs weren’t bad enough, her gnarled horn made her tower over him even more. Still, he never showed any fear or awe. None of the other changelings ever did.  

“Now, perhaps you can solve this conundrum for me. One of our foes has developed a new weapon: a shield that reflects our attacks and rejects our adhesives. They form tightly knit phalanxes that can even withstand a physical assault, and thermal attacks do not seem to cause them any damage. How would you propose we bypass this?”

Bastion thought it over for a moment.

“Well, what does my uncle say?” 

“I’m not asking your uncle, Bastion, I am asking you.” Chrysalis glared at him.

“Oh.  Indirect attack, then,” the boy offered quickly.  

“Indirect attack? What do you mean? Speak plainly, boy, tell me exactly how you would approach this problem.”

“You said the shields reflect everything aimed directly at them, my Queen. That doesn’t mean they reflect anything at all. Throw an explosive ball of light above the phalanx, or two at the sides, have it make a lot of noise, and it’ll shake them up. Since the shields don’t block sound, you can deafen the enemy for a moment and create an opening like that. The mages can’t concentrate, the warriors try to block their ears and drop their guard. If the next wave tries to counter it with earplugs, you just change the attack formation. Their defence then can’t adapt, since the commander can’t issue orders to deaf troops,” Bastion explained matter-of-factly.  

Chrysalis closed her eyes in contemplation before grinning to herself.  

“Drones, you heard the boy. Good hunting.”

With that, the dozen or so raiders set off.  

“Now then,” Chrysalis started, turning towards Bastion again, “I hadn’t sent for you yet, you’ve had your mites cleaned off already, so you must have a question. What is it?”

Looking right up at her, unabashed, Bastion shrugged.

“I’d like to know why my uncle is in prison.”

Chrysalis chuckled.  

“Oh, that. It seems my dear War Engineer decided to free some rather valuable captives during our raid on Canterlot. And aside from that, he’s been questioning my rule.”

“So, the plans have changed then? Everything’s changed?” 

Chrysalis sighed.

“Oh, Bastion, so much you need to learn. Nothing has changed. His position remains the same.”

“And the… you know…” he started, only now really becoming a little intimidated.

“No change in plans, my boy. Nothing to cause you concern. While we haven’t made it official yet, we are still betrothed. He is still the one I have chosen as my mate, and he is still the War Engineer to this hive. He just needs to learn his lesson first, that’s all. I trust Faux Pas and his judgement, and I’m sure he’ll see reason.”

“So why punish him like this?”

“Bastion, you understand that when your uncle and I are wed, that will make you a prince, yes?”

“Yes, I do.”

“And do you still know all the lessons changeling royalty must know? Do you know what they mean?” 

“I think I do.”

“Alright, then, let’s test that. Of a thousand ponies, there are two hundred and fifty farmers, two hundred and fifty artists and two hundred and fifty builders. How many soldiers do they have, at the maximum?” Chrysalis asked, circling around him as she painted the mental picture.

“Two hundred and fifty, my Queen,” he replied without needing to think of it.  

“Correct. And on a thousand changelings, how many soldiers?” Chrysalis asked with a grin. The look of mindless obedience in his eyes never ceased to give her a little sliver of pure joy.

“If the Queen makes it so, one thousand,” Bastion droned.

“How many farmers?”

“If the Queen makes it so, one thousand,” Bastion repeated in his monotone.  

“How many builders?”

“If the Queen makes it so, one thousand,” the boy replied again, never once breaking posture or eye contact, or even changing the tone of his voice. 

Chrysalis smiled, then waved a paw in front of his eyes. To her delight, he didn’t blink. He just smiled in return, glad for the approval.

“Exactly. That is our strength: that we can be whatever we need to be at any time. And who decides what we are?” 

“You do, Queen Chrysalis.”

She flashed a toothy grin at the boy.

“And what if our hive needs something it does not possess? What do we do then?” 

“We take it from a nation that does. We're not a civilisation, we are the thing that devours civilisation. We infest, we adapt, we take. We only put up a disguise, we never become the things we feed on. We're better than them, and we can take whatever we want."

“But suppose no nation has what we need? How many thinkers do we need for every problem?” The queen smirked as she gave the boy the same lesson she'd given him for the past few months. She never could stop herself from enjoying a changeling agreeing with everything she said without the need for rewriting their minds.  

“Just one,” Bastion replied, “if they’re smart enough. And a spare if they’re important enough.”

Chrysalis circled around him, examining his posture. His breath was even, his back was straight, all good signs his conditioning hadn’t been tampered with.

“Precisely. Now, my little thinker, consider this: many soldiers would a thousand changelings make if I could not make them so?” 

“None.”

“None indeed. If I cannot make my hivelings into what they need to be, then our proud race falls. And your uncle needs to see that for himself. That is why I chose to put him on trial: to let him make amends to me, and to show him that my strength is the strength of our hive. He needs to see all the changelings I command present, all my good little children staring down at him, to show him that my way is the right way for our kind. It’s just a reminder, nothing more.”

“So he’ll be okay?”

The queen of the changelings backed away and scowled.

“Compassion for your uncle. I suppose that can’t be weeded out without dulling your observation skills. Yes, he’ll be fine. I’m sure Faux Pas will see things my way, little Bastion. You won’t have to take his place for a long time. Unless, of course, you feel you are up to the task already.”

“With all due respect, I don’t think I’m as good as he is yet. I mean, he taught me nearly everything I know.” The little changeling fidgeted at the notion.

“Indeed. But he hasn’t taught you everything he knows yet, has he?” Chrysalis noted, turning away and starting to head off on some business or another.    

“I wouldn’t know.”

Chrysalis chuckled, stopping for a moment.

“No, I suppose you wouldn’t. But I know Faux Pas, he doesn’t make mistakes. I trust he’s prepared you just fine for his position.”





Bastion fell silent. Apple Bloom found herself staring just a bit.

“It’s not as bad as it sounds, really.”

“But… you were supposed to take your uncle’s place? As a War Engineer? A-And you were going to be prince?” Apple Bloom asked in disbelief. 

“Uhuh. It’s not that rare: changeling advisors are always close to their liege, and they’re the only ones who think for themselves, who can choose at all. It's not like drones, where you can make them do whatever you want. If a changeling king or queen doesn't want a mindless drone to wed, they have to take an advisor. So an advisor's family, if they aren’t drones, can become royal by marriage. That’s how it was going to be for me. My uncle, Faux Pas, was the War Engineer to our hive. He was her favourite, so she was going to marry him.”

He fell silent again for a moment and rubbed his head, possibly a pang of dizziness surfacing, or his conditioning.

“And you?”

Bastion shrugged and stared at the ground, ashamed.

"I’m his successor. That’s why they taught me the way they did. To changelings, it’s the thought that counts, and aside from some basic rites there’s no real marriage ceremony aside from the Queen making it official. So if the Queen says she’s marrying you, you’re kind of already married. And by our rules, that would make me a prince. So Chrysalis groomed me for that, too, a little,” Bastion explained.

“Wow. But I never heard anything about a War Engineer. What happened to him?”

Bastion sighed and gulped.

“Oh. I’m sorry,” she offered.

“It’s alright. I can talk about it now. I-it doesn’t hurt me anymore,” he replied with a meek smile.

Apple Bloom smiled back and slid a little closer for comfort..





Bastion walked into the dungeon with Sapphire Gaze by his side. Down in the lower levels of their hive  -- Chrysalis hated the word ‘palace’ even though that’s what it’s was, really – the wax had been reinforced by magical means. Walking over to the only occupied cell, Bastion noticed the odd gleam to the bars. Crystalline protein embedded in a wax mesh reinforced with whispersilk, even his uncle would have a hard time getting past that. 

Although there was that one incident with the zebras that no one had ever really figured out. Faux Pas had a knack for getting out of tight situations, and it was impossible to tell when he was faking capture and when he was genuinely in trouble. He certainly didn’t look it now.

“All hail the changeling prince,” Faux Pas greeted, “and the loyal Archmage. Come to pay a royal visit to the dungeons?”

Sapphire scowled.

“Stop fooling around, Faux, you’re not king yet. Guards, leave us.”

Wordlessly, the drones on guard moved out and flew out of earshot. They still obeyed the Archmage’s commands to the letter, at least.

“Easy, Sapphire. Can’t I have a little fun? I’ve been cooped up here for days now with nothing but drones to talk to. And I suspect Chrysalis made them all boring just to spite me,” the War Engineer joked.

Bastion stepped in front of the Archmage, cutting her off.

“Uncle Faux? Are you really going to be alright? I think Chrysalis might be angry at you.”

“Oh, nothing to worry about, Bastion,” he said, rubbing the little ‘ling’s mane through the bars. “Our queen is a little antsy, that’s all. She just wants to show her dominance by coming up with some silly excuse to throw me behind bars and put up a spectacle of a trial. It’s practically a changeling tradition: the same thing happened with her parents as well as her grandparents.”

“But why did you do it? Why did you free those prisoners?” 

“Just as an observation. I wanted to see which way they’d run, I didn't think they were important. You know you should always observe your opponent carefully, no?”

“Yes,” Bastion conceded, his eyes going wide again. “Always watch your enemy. Watch what he appears to be doing, watch what he wants you to think he’s doing, and watch he really is doing.”

“Good boy.  And what’s the most important lesson I taught you?” Faux Pas continued.

“Avoid conflict, always,” he droned. “Move to a position where the other side cannot interact with you.”

Faux Pas looked over the boy, noting his posture and his unnaturally steady breathing.

“No, not that. The other lesson.”

“Never underestimate the opposition, always double check and always have a backup plan,” the boy replied quickly.

“The other lesson, Bastion,” Faux insisted, grabbing his nephew in a hug, before stopping short of pressing him against the bars. “Don’t pretend you don’t know what I want to hear.”

Bastion blinked to snap out of his daze, and his breath returned to normal. 

“We’re better than this."

“Exactly. No matter what Chrysalis says, we are more than what she says we are. We don’t have to keep stealing from others and pretending the rules don’t apply to us.”

Sapphire sighed, but didn’t speak up. Faux Pas slowly released his favourite nephew from his grasp, smiling proudly.

“But… what if Chrysalis is mad at you for saying that? Even if you are right?” Bastion remarked.

“Hey, this is me you’re talking about, remember? Chrysalis adores me, even now. And she’ll listen to reason, I’m sure. She’s putting up a little show for me, sure, but we’re still just going to talk things out, one rational being to another. She won’t harm me, I’m her favourite. Don’t worry: you’ll get to where you belong.”  

“So she’s not mad at you?” 

“No, don’t be silly. After all the things I’ve done for our hive? After all the battles I got us through, all the new weapons and spells I supplied her? She’d never lay a finger on me. She’d certainly not grow one to lay it on me. She might be a little cross with Sapphire here, though: she’s been giving me the eyes.”

Sapphire Gaze grumbled.

“Oh, don’t flatter yourself. You’re at least ten years my senior.”

“Love is blind, as they say. Good thing, too; makes it easier to catch and eat,” Faux Pas replied with a grin.  

Sapphire groaned.  

“Ugh. Bastion, do you have anything else to say to your uncle?”

“No, Sapphire. I just wanted to be sure he’s alright.”

“Then I think it’s best for you to leave now. I get the impression your uncle’s about to say some things not fit for children’s ears.”

“See you after the trial, uncle Faux,” Bastion started.

Faux Pas smiled at his nephew, and for the briefest moment his face betrayed a hint of regret. The boy didn't notice.  

“Goodbye, Bastion.”





“I don’t understand. Chrysalis was gonna marry your uncle, but she put him on trial?”

“She didn’t love him, not really. We can tell, remember? I doubt she even cared about it during the trial. But I wouldn’t know, I wasn’t there. I just went up for fresh air to steady my nerves before the trial started, none of the other advisors were allowed to be there. Sapphire came up after me, and I guess she knocked me out with a spell. I don’t really remember it that much, she’s good at that sort of thing. When I woke up, we were on the border of our territory, and my uncle wasn’t with us.”

Bastion caught his breath a little, and closed his eyes as the memories played back in his head.

“We, uh, we had this beetle with us, that my uncle made. It was a part of him, something Sapphire could use to communicate. We teleported to the desert, gave him the signal we were safe, and then the beetle went ‘poof’. And that was it. We knew he was dead then. I never even realised what was going to happen. I never said my farewells. But Sapphire said she was going to take care of me. My uncle had made her promise.”

“So why aren’t you with her, then? If she promised to take care of you, she must care about you.”

“She does. But succession triggers on death for us, that’s the rule. So when my uncle died, technically I took his title. And I took it before they signed the contract. So I count as one of Chrysalis’ advisors now.”

“So what? No one knows about that, you never did anything. Why should you have to throw a good life away over something as silly as that? You could have ended up a lot worse,” Apple Bloom protested. 

“Because ponies aren’t the only ones we’ve attacked. There are others, countries that don’t see things the way you do, and the only thing stopping them from… they can’t hurt us because they have to follow rules. But that only goes if we follow the rules, too. According to international law, our rules are as valid as anyone else’s, so they count. Even if I didn’t do anything, the law says I count as an advisor, and every other nation in the world will accept that as true, that’s how it is."

Apple Bloom suddenly realised something.

“Wait a second. If you count as an advisor, doesn’t that mean you had to sign the contract for the rest of them, too? You had to sign away the chance to live with her?”

Bastion nodded.

“I know it might not matter, but it’s not worth the risk. I know there are nations that hate us, and I think you know that, too.”

Reluctantly, Apple Bloom nodded.

“I suppose there would be.”

“If they find any excuse, anything at all, then they can say we still broke the rules. And-“ He clenched his teeth and shivered, going into a panic response, almost. “I’ve only heard stories. I don’t wanna find out if they’re true or not. I just follow the rules and do things fairly, so the rules keep me and everyone else safe.”

“So that’s how you ended up here. Your uncle thought you deserved better,” Apple Bloom patted his back to calm him down.

Bastion shuffled a little closer.

“What about you? Your parents, I mean.”

“They’re not around. And… that’s all there is to it. I made my peace with it a long time ago. The family I’ve got now is what matters, and I know my parents would want what’s best for me. Same way your uncle wanted what was best for you.”

“I guess you’re right. My uncle rather died than to be a king for a race of parasites. And I think like being a beekeeper with ponies better than being a changeling prince. The food’s tastier, and the company’s better.”

Apple Bloom smiled at that.

“You could do that, you know. Being a beekeeper, I mean. Handling bees is a fine pony talent, and we make plenty of food with honey.”

“I know: honey waffles, honey mustard, honey mead –“

Apple Bloom chuckled.

“What?” he asked.

“You sound just like my sister when she’s talking about apples.”

“Is that a good thing?”

“Very good. Trust me, when you come around by the farm sometime, Granny Smith will want to have some words with you. She’ll like you a lot, I’m sure. You’re a lot like my great-grandfather, now that I think about it. Maybe that was what you picked up on: you reminding me of the stories she told about him. He was a pilgrim who settled here, and he had to find out what stuff he could use from his old life, just like you. He’d learned to find, collect and grow the right seeds before he settled here, like you learned to handle bees in your old life. He also had to learn how to settle down and make a home while stayin’ his old self, just like you. And he wound up being the start of Ponyville.”

Bastion nodded at her.  

“I think that is what I picked up on. It’s nice to know I’ve got something in common with a pony like that.”

“You do, and you don’t have to worry about having to leave your past behind you. It made you what you are, including what you’re good at now. You can have a bit of the old to help with the new. And the bad things in your old life, well, I haven’t seen them drag you down yet. If you hadn’t told me, I wouldn’t have known anything was off about you. You look happy to me, even with everything that’s happened.”

He shrugged.

“It doesn’t matter anymore, even if it does hurt a little. I’ve got two new moms. I’m happy with them, they’re happy with me. What I left behind is, well, behind me. Ponyville’s going to be my home now. I just need to try and fit in like a pony. Which is a lot harder than you make it look.”

“I wouldn’t mind helping you with that, you know. There’s one thing that’d be sure to help you belong.”

Bastion looked at her intently.

“We have this tradition in Ponyville. My granny started it, actually. Our orchard’s got these trees with fruit called zap apples, and they bloom once a year. They’re magical, so we have to do all these weird things to process them, and when we’re done we make a jam out of it. Granny Smith showed me how to do it last year, and this year she’s going to let me make a batch all on my own.”

“I don’t get it.”

“Zap apple jam is made with honey, and you’re the only beekeeper I really know personally. I know it’s just a hobby for now, but… if you really want to make food, you’re already pretty good with your bees. Like I said, my granny knows some of it, too. I think you might be as good as her, and she took a long time to get that good. If you really like doing it that much–“

“I do. A lot.”

“Then you should keep at it, and there’s no reason for me not to want to use your honey for zap apple jammin’, this year or any other year. But I should warn you: zap apple jam is only made with extra sweet honey. You need to be really nice to the bees that make it. But if you can do that, you’d be helping with a tradition that’s as old as Ponyville. It was the first food that was made here, part of the reason the town exists in the first place. You know stuff about making honey because of where you come from, and like I said, just because you live here now doesn’t mean you have to throw everything from your old life away. You can hold on to a part of your past and just mix it up with our past.”

“You’d do that? You’d let me do that? E-every year? But you can use any honey you want, it’s my bees who make it, not me,” Bastion argued.

“Doesn’t make a difference to me. It’s something you put effort into, just like picking apples or tending to trees. And I want you to feel like it’s worth something, because it is. Making zap apple jam is a Ponyville tradition. I’m part of that tradition because of how I was born. You weren’t born into it, but you could be a part of that tradition, too, if you wanna be. And if you think you’re up to it.”

“I’m not sure. But I’d really like to try,” he decided, rubbing away the last of his tears, one the filly assumed was one of joy. “Thanks.”

“I look forward to tastin’ some of your honey, then. Friends?"

“Friends.”

She hugged him close, and carefully put his forelegs around her so the spurs didn’t bite into her fur.

For the briefest moment, a sob escaped her lips and she clenched him tight.  

"And if things ever do catch up to you and you need to talk to someone who understands, you just have to ask."

She couldn't see it, but she felt Bastion's head bobbing up and down in agreement.  

"Thank you. I'll help you explain what happened, too."

"Thanks. I think I've got my work cut out for that."

Slowly, they broke the hug and smiled at each other. Silence fell between them.

“So what happens now?” he asked.

“I can think of a little something we could do.”





Celestia sighed as she finished the progress report on Alveola.  

“What is wrong, sister?” princess Luna asked.

“Things aren’t going as well for the changelings as I’d hoped. They are growing their crops and tending to their orchards, as we expected. It’s taking time, though, I’m beginning to worry if they can stand on their own four feet in time.”

“They are a resourceful breed, you know that,” Luna remarked.

“Indeed.”

A little bout of green flame erupted in front of the Princess of the Sun, coalescing into a scroll.

“Word from Ponyville?” Luna asked.

Celestia chuckled as she read the letter.

Dear princess Celestia,

This is Apple Bloom, Applejack’s sister. I’m writing to you about some things that happened the past few days. 

I learned that sometimes things make you angry, and it’s hard to see why. Things can get under your skin so badly you don’t even realise they’re there. All you can do is lash out. And when you lash out at your friends, it’s hard for them to help you.

I hurt Bastion Pristin the past few days, I lashed out. But it wasn’t because he was a changeling. It wasn’t because he did anything. It was just a lot of anger bottled up and mixed with misunderstandings. It wasn’t because of him, it was because of ponies of around him, and neither of us realised what was going on until it was too late. We both ended up in the hospital because of that. (I only have a paper cut, he’s got a concussion, so I won.)

“Oh dear,” Celestia started.

As sorry as I am for what happened, there’s a bright side to it. I learned a very important lesson today. I learned that it’s not always easy to make new friends, especially when they remind you of something painful. If you happen to meet a new friend in a hard time, that alone can make you enemies. And when other ponies make you feel bad about being friends, even if they don’t mean to, it just makes things hard. But when you both want to be friends, things will work out in the end. All it takes is a little kindness and understanding.

It’s important to share what you’re feeling so others can help, and to keep going to get to the bottom of the real issue. Sometimes you don’t even know what the problem is until you talk about it to someone who understands you. And when you do have a problem with someone, it’s between you and them. Even if they’re trying to help, getting others involved in it doesn’t always work out.

I made friends with a changeling today, and while we both got off to a very rocky start, we’re both happy to be friends. We worked it out, on our own. And we know how to avoid misunderstandings like the ones we had in the future.  

In short: I learned that it’s not always easy to make new friends, but it is worth it to try. A true friendship can form even out of shaky starts.

Your faithful Student,

Apple Bloom

Celestia smiled at the letter.

“Another friendship report for the archives, sister?” Luna inquired.

“Yes, I think we will hold on to this one. It’s Apple Bloom, Applejack’s little sister. It seems she’s learned the meaning of understanding and made friends with little Bastion. After quite a tumultuous start, I gather.”

Another flame appeared between the princesses, another scroll delivered. Celestia took it in her magical grasp and immediately read it.

“Ah, and this one is from Bastion.”

Dear princess Celestia,

This is Bastion Pristin, writing to you from Ponyville, my new home. Apple Bloom said her sister was meant to write letters to you about any important lessons she learned. She said I should write about what I learned, that you’d be pleased to hear of my progress.

The princess chuckled at the boy’s sentiment.

Well, today I learned a very important lesson. 

“I wonder what he’s learned. Something equally important, I should hope,” Luna started.

Celestia’s expression turned grave at the next line.

Never get close to an angry Earth pony, they can kick your head in very hard.  Even if it’s a girl.

Especially if it’s a girl.

Your faithful Student,

Bastion Pristin

Celestia looked up from the letter and shrugged at her sister.

“Well… close enough.”

The End.

> Epilogue: Double Deception
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Epilogue: Double Deception

The filly sighed as the bell rang. She’d kept her distance from the school at first, avoiding Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle along with the rest of her class, but she couldn’t avoid it any longer.  She’d have to see this through.

Walking in under the weight of everypony’s stares, Apple Bloom stopped in front of the class. She still had the bandage around her waist, and combined with Bastion’s absence it didn’t make her look any better.  

Cheerilee motioned for them to settle down.

“Now, class, before we do a little halfway review of everyone’s projects, Apple Bloom has something to say.”

The teacher sat down behind her desk.  Apple Bloom stood as firmly as she could, heart racing.

“Good mornin’. Y’all have probably heard me and Bastion got in a fight. It wasn’t a big deal, it was just a misunderstanding. He cut me, I hit him, we both went to the hospital, and we’ll both be fine. Everything that’s happened between us has just been a misunderstanding. I don’t hate him, and he doesn’t hold anything against me.”

“So you don’t think he was poisoning ponies anymore?” Piña Colada asked.

“No.  That was…” The filly started.  The words got caught halfway, though.

“It’s alright, Apple Bloom,” Cheerilee encouraged. “Just explain yourself.”

“That was because the way ponies kept talking about him and how they were treating him didn’t add up with what he was,” Apple Bloom continued. “I kept hearing about how sad he was when he clearly wasn’t. It was a misunderstanding, and every time I tried to talk it out, something came around to hurt me and make me want to stop trying. I got angry, but it wasn’t with him. I just wound up taking it out on him, that’s all. I was wrong to do what I did, but I’m not the only one who made mistakes.”

“Wait, hang on,” Rumble interjected. “You thought ponies were being nice to him because they thought he was sad?”

“No,” Apple Bloom replied. “I thought ponies were telling me to never talk about anything painful or to not do anything that might upset him because they thought he was sad. But he’s not. I could have told him what I was thinking and he’d have shown me what he was doing, he told me so himself. No one ever bothered to ask him how he felt about getting treated special.”

“Sure,” Diamond Tiara offered. “And treating him like dirt was better, then?”

“I never said anything bad to his face until yesterday, that's the only time I made him feel bad and I didn't even plan on it. I only did that because I had to bottle everything up. I know your daddy made you act nice to Bastion, Diamond. Why doesn’t he make you act nice to me, huh?”

“Well, you’re not a –“

“A what? A changeling? So he only does that because of how Bastion was born, but it’s not okay to hate someone because of how they were born,” Apple Bloom argued.

“Well, no, but you’re not –“

“An orphan?” Apple Bloom interrupted again.  

The class fell silent.  

Silver Spoon scowled. 

“You’re not an orphan. You’ve got Applejack and Big Mac, you’ve got plenty of family. It’s not the same.”

“Yeah, it is,” Rumble concluded. “Apple Bloom’s right: she doesn’t have her parents, but she’s got Applejack and the rest of her family. The same way Bastion’s got Lyra and Bon Bon now. If you want to be fair, you have to treat them the same way.”

Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo remained silent, looking at their friend. She was biting her lips and breathing quickly, her nerves probably playing up.  

“So you think it’s okay to be mean to Bastion like that?” Diamond Tiara asked.

“No, but I do think it’s between Apple Bloom and Bastion, and it’s none of my business. If Apple Bloom says it’s okay now, then I believe her. And if things had gone a little different, I might have acted just like her. Anyone might have, that's what misunderstandings are. She’s right: ponies were treating him special just because of what had happened to him, not because of how he was feeling. It’s not right to act like someone is sad when they’re not. You have to comfort someone when they’re sad, and if you do it just because you think they’re sad, then what are you going to do when they really do feel sad? What if Bastion really is happy, and he just hasn’t had the chance to really let things sink in yet?”

“Thank you, Rumble,” Apple Bloom said. “It’s nice to know somepony understands.”

Everyone in class, Miss Cheerilee included, turned their heads. Apple Bloom was standing in the doorway.  

Another Apple Bloom.  

“Umm… sure. If it makes you feel any better, I didn’t think I had to be extra nice to Bastion, either. Assuming you’re not Bastion,” Rumble said to the new arrival, who now went to stand to the right of the first Apple Bloom.  

“If you really wanna know what was bothering me: I didn’t think it was fair to act like that to someone who was happy, and had every reason to. What everypony was doing reminded me of what I went through, and that made it hard to think. But it’s over now, and we’re friends. So nopony’s gonna stay mad at me?” the Apple Bloom on the right asked.

“And no more walking on eggshells around Bastion? He doesn’t want to be treated special, either, it's actually making it harder for him to adjust. He doesn’t need comfort now, he’ll need it when he really is sad."

Most of the class shrugged or nodded, some more begrudgingly than others.

“That’s all very nice and well, Apple Bloom, but you still poisoned a classmate and pressured him to talk about something you knew was painful,” Cheerilee objected, trying her best to keep the two apart.

The left Apple Bloom sighed.

“I did not poison him, I gave him truth serum.  And he would have told me all I wanted to know himself if I’d just sat down and talked. But you’re right, that was a very bad thing I did, and it was wrong. Just like it’s wrong to take pictures of ponies without them knowing.” The two Apple Blooms looked at Featherweight. “Or how it’s wrong to run into a dangerous forest and lure an animal into town just to prove a point.” They turned towards Snips and Snails, who cowered under the perfectly doubled gaze. “And just like it’s wrong to blackmail ponies into doing what you want.” They both looked at Diamond Tiara.

The one on the right nodded.

“The only reason Bastion didn’t speak up sooner is because he didn’t know what to do. Back in his hive, he didn’t get to be himself, he’s not used to it. If he’d known, he’d have talked to me right away. Anyone could have avoided it by just telling him what was going on. But it happened, and we’re both okay with it. We're a lot alike, and it just took a while for us to realise that. We’re friends now.”

The left Apple Bloom looked around. The sight of two Apple Blooms left the class confused, apparently.

“Anypony else got anything to say about it?”

Everyone was just staring at them now. There was no difference between them: the same bow, the exact same eyes, same voice, even the same accent. There were no little differences in the mane or tail, hardly any tell-tale differences in the way they moved. Scootaloo did notice the one on the right was swaying ever so slightly, though, and her eyes didn’t quite follow everything perfectly.

“Scootaloo?” the left Apple Bloom asked.

“Sweetie Belle?” the right one asked. Sure enough, that one shifted her hooves a little to stand more stable.
The girls sighed and shook their heads.  

Shrugging, the pair of Apple Blooms took their seats.

“Bastion? Aren’t you going to change back?” Cheerilee asked.  

The two shared a look.

“Not right away,” one said.

“We figured since we are that much alike, we might as well see who can tell us apart,” the other one added with a grin.

Cheerilee groaned. As much as she hated to admit it, they both had a good point.





The Apple Blooms found Rumble, Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo during their morning break.

“You’re still mad about what I said to you, huh?’ the one on the left started. “Back at the clubhouse?”

“I-I should go,” Rumble started. “I don’t need to hear this.”

Scootaloo shook her head.

“No, you can stay. You should hear this. You called us fakes, Apple Bloom. While you had truth serum. You can’t say you didn’t mean it.”

“Just because I told the truth doesn’t mean I think any less of you,” the Apple Bloom on the right remarked. “I felt hurt, and I said some things I shouldn’t have. But I am not gonna apologise for something that isn’t a bad thing.”

“You said we’d never be like the ponies we look up to, Apple Bloom,” Sweetie Belle added. “That’s a horrible thing to say.”

“Umm… no, it isn’t,” the right Apple Bloom remarked. “Scootaloo, when have you ever seen Rainbow Dash dance the way you do? Or do any moves on a scooter, or even flap her wings as fast as you can? And Sweetie Belle, when did you ever see Rarity getting dirty or sweaty just for the fun of it? Or just let go and shout every once in a while just to feel better, or even make something you know you might not be able to do perfectly, but you just wanna try?”

The fillies stayed quiet. Rumble tilted his head.

“They’ve got a point, you know.” 

The left Apple Bloom smiled at the colt.

“See, I do think you’re not like the ponies you look up to. Not in the ways you think you should be. But you are like them in the ways that it counts, and I just think you’re better off trying to be your own pony. I mean, why did we start the Cutie Mark Crusaders in the first place?”

Sweetie Belle gave the left Apple Bloom a weak smile.  

“To help get our cutie marks. To have a club where foals can try to find their talent. To help other ponies like us find their place. Oh, speaking of which, Rumble’s asked if he could join. He’s going to help Scootaloo with flying.”

“You’re welcome too, Bastion,” Scootaloo asked the Apple Bloom on the right, who gave them a quizzical look. “Since Apple Bloom is friends with you now, and you are technically a blank flank trying to fit in.”

“We wouldn’t do everything together, right?” Rumble remarked. “I mean, you three are always off together, that doesn’t mean we’d have to do everything you do, does it?”

For a moment, the image of Rumble and the girls trying to get their knitting cutie marks flashed through Sweetie Belle’s mind.

“No, we can set up a calendar. Like we did with the Rainbow Dash fanclub. You and Bastion could be Cutie Mark Knights or Dukes, if that’s okay,” the little unicorn offered. “Even if you’re not that anxious about getting your own cutie mark, we should have members who are more into helping others get theirs.”

“I think that’s a great idea,” the Apple Bloom on the left agreed. “But, if you don’t mind my asking, how did you know I was the real one?”

Scootaloo grinned and pointed to the filly on the right.

“You said you hit Bastion, and I’m guessing you hit him on the head. Your body double there keeps moving like he’s dizzy.”

“Eheh, yeah… I did hit his head pretty hard,” left Apple Bloom noted embarrassedly. “But it’s all fine now.”

Sweetie Belle suppressed a tear, and she was about to hug her friend, but found herself beaten to the proverbial punch. Scootaloo wrapped her forearms around Apple Bloom and hugged her tight.

“Good to have you back, Apple Bloom,” Scootaloo started.

“Thanks,” she replied, before squeezing Scootaloo tight as well. “Told you they’d fall for it.”

Scootaloo’s eyes shot open to the sound of green flames covering the pony in her grip. When they cleared, she was hugging a perfect copy of herself.  

Apple Bloom snickered, then broke out in laughter as she finally stopped the subtle swaying she’d been doing.  

“Welcome to the Cutie Mark Crusaders, you two,” she greeted, barely containing her mirth at the little prank. 

Rumble didn’t reply. He just stared at the pair of Scootaloos locked in friendly embrace, one sporting a triumphant grin and the other biting her lip in defeat.

And for reasons he wouldn't understand until after he asked his big brother about it that night, Rumble’s wings suddenly felt a lot more rigid.