Rejected.

That would be putting it mildly.

I didn’t choose this life. I was handed the role and told to play along. My failure came naturally. All part of the cycle; no more, no less.

I wished my life was over. Given the fluid leaking from my barrel, that wish would be granted soon enough. Fate is a cruel mistress, and her avatar is Queen. Even in defeat, she showed me no mercy. For years I had trained; the ultimate shame of a lingering death rewarded my troubles. There was never any doubt. I was a fool to believe I had a choice or a chance.

My trail of dripping ichor mingled with the dust stretching across the wilderness. All remnant of my passing would be gone in a few hours. Even the gouge left behind from dragging my cracked leg would seal up with the evening wind. I pushed on through the pain.

Moving kept my mind occupied. I needed something to keep from dwelling on the vultures circling overhead. At least I would be dead when they commenced their feast. I couldn’t bear to think of the alternative. The remnant of my own wings hung limp at my sides, barely attached and utterly useless. Had I dared fly too high? No. I struck the mark head on.

The forest ahead offered a small respite from the emptiness of the plain, and so I continued. Maybe one of the trees would make a nice marker for the grave of one so easily denied a life of meaning? Perhaps my body could somehow give life where it had barely a shred of its own. The thought inspired a small burst of will, driving me deeper into the wood. I wanted to find the perfect tree, something special, but not in a good way. It had to be broken, abandoned, alive yet barely living—a tree worthy of me.

Straight ahead, I found my plot.

It took everything I had to reach the blasted trunk. Scorch marks told the story of another life shattered by the will of a higher power. Lightning struck hard, but the unscathed side stood defiant against the blow. I couldn’t say the same for myself. My entire existence reduced to nothing more than a smudge on an insignificant page of history. I curled up in the tangle of roots beneath the half-canopy, prepared in every way for the end to come. Like so much trash, I waited for the sweet release of death’s embrace. My only purpose in life now lay in death, becoming nutrient for the tree and perhaps minimal shelter for some small beast of the wild.

I should have lived my life blissfully unaware, but I was one of the unlucky ones. I hatched a princess, the perpetuation of the greatest lie ever known.

---

“Hello?” The blur on the edge of my vision stepped forward. I had no idea the Bringer of Death was so small.

The pain in my side swirled with the pulsing throb in my foreleg. Numbness became a welcome addition to the broken joints on my back. What was left of my wings barely remained attached to my upper carapace. The wiry blue-gray strands of my mane and tail fell where they may, and I made no attempt to adjust my posture. I struggled to speak. “Take pity on me, Great One. Bring the end with all haste.” The words spilled out of my throat with hardly a click.

“A-Alright.” The blur turned away. It paused and turned back. “Don’t move. I’ll be right back.” Without another word, it dove into the brush.

My head swam in the pain that my broken body produced. I shed a silent tear, not for the pain, but for the notion that Death herself left me to linger in agony. At the end of it all, I lay rejected by the one being who accepted all else. Was my life of so little import? Could I not garner the cold hoof of Death to waste but a moment in stamping out the last ember of life that remained within? How long must I suffer in this mortal shell, devoid of any meaning or substance?

How long before life’s close?

---

My vision dimmed. Either the light of day drifted toward evening, or else Death enjoyed toying with the fraying thread at the edge of the uninspired tapestry of my life. Both were definite possibilities.

The rustle of leaves caught my attention. A squeak and a thud like that of a claw spreading over a stone before tossing it from the path signaled the approach of some odd soul. I prayed it was Death come to fulfill her pledge; I lay beyond fear of some beast surveying an evening meal. Either guest was welcome in this twilight hour.

“See, I told ya!” Death’s blur popped out from behind the trunk of the next closest tree.

“You weren’t kidding!”

“Ohmygosh! Is that what I think it is?”

Apparently, Death brought friends... and a wagon.

My transportation to the other side pulled up as close as could be managed with the mesh of roots beneath my frame.

“One of you hold the wagon steady while we load her up,” Death said.

“Are you sure this is safe?” the second blur asked.

“Shouldn’t we get an adult?” the third blur added.

“Look at her,” the sickly yellow hoof of Death stroked the stringy hair of my mane. “She’s hurt and we’ve got to help. We don’t need an adult to tell us that. Now grab her legs and help me lift.”

“She’s pretty banged up.” The second blur circled around out of sight. “Her wings… I… That doesn’t look good.”

I tilted my head back to try and address my inspector. “Remove them if they hinder your work. I do not wish to linger.”

“What?” the orange minion replied. “It’s not… that bad. I’m pretty sure they’ll heal.”

“Check out her flank, girls.” A white hoof pointed at my rear. “I bet she’s our age. She hasn’t got a cutie mark either!”

“I don’t think they get cutie marks,” the voice of Death answered. It was beginning to sound a lot less like Death and more like Death’s daughter. “That crack in her side and broken wings need tending to. On three.”

“Don’t forget about the broken leg,” I muttered, wanting to make sure she had a complete inventory for her ultimate accounting.

“One, two, three!” The voice cracked, and my feral scream joined it.

Pried up from the ground, I momentarily stood on whatever legs I had left, teetering and eventually falling over the waiting conveyance. The mostly white minion did an admirable job of holding it steady through my collapse. I fear I may have caught her hoof in my fall given her yelp.

“See, that wasn’t so hard.” Death wound the harness around her barrel. “You two help push while I pull and steer. We better hurry ‘cause I don’t want to be out here after sunset.”

“You got it!”

“Let’s do it!”

Death’s minions took hold of the wagon.

“Cutie Mark Crusader Ambulance Service, GO!” Death’s cry drove off the last of the vultures waiting in the branches above.

“Wait a—”

I didn’t have time to get my question out before we lurched forward. I tried, but a red bundle of tail caught me in the face. Sputtering, I fought to remove the strands from my open mouth.

With tremendous effort, I turned my head away. I did it somewhat to help rid my mouth of the foul taste of apple, but mainly to say a few parting words. “Farewell, tree I hardly knew. May Death offer you passage more swift than mine.” My three captors offered no heed as the distance built between us and my tree. I lacked the strength to do anything more than remain as I was.

My unpleasant voyage imparted numerous gifts. The screech of the wagon wheels traded with jarring bumps from each rock and root we overran. My fractured carapace smacked the bed with each throw and toss. A stray branch or fern leaf added humiliation to insult striking various limbs and face as we drove on. As for our destination, I knew it couldn’t be far. With much any more jostling, I was sure not to care either way.

The light of day drew to a close as we reached the other side of the forest. Stretching out beyond, neatly tended rows of apple trees lined the path leading to a cluster of buildings. I felt awash in a sea of confusion as we neared the tallest structure. The stories I had heard left little to the imagination. Once inside the enemy compound, I couldn’t dare to dream the horrors that awaited me. Ponies made Death seem fun by comparison.

“Quick, open the barn doors,” the yellow one said. “We gotta get her inside before anypony sees us.”

“Yeah, yeah,” the orange one answered, moving swiftly to pry back the double red passage.

“Why are we hiding her?” the white one chirped. “I thought you said we wouldn’t get in any trouble.”

“We won’t!” The yellow one tugged forward, rolling us inside. “We’ll fix her up in here, and then we’ll take her back to the Everfree. Nopony has to know.”

“How long’s that gonna take?” Orange coat yawned, looking overly tired from our evening run. “We can’t stay with her. Somepony’s going to find us, or her. Then we’ll be grounded for like, ever.”

“It won’t take that long.” The yellow one slid out of the harness. “We’ll get her some food and bandage her up. If we’re careful, we won’t get caught.”

I shuddered as the orange one leaned a hoof against my flank. Our eyes met for a moment before she spun around to face the others. “And what if we do get caught?”

“We play dumb. It’s worked before.” Stinky-apple-tail had a point. I was pretty sure they could pull off ‘dumb’ without really trying. “She asked for our help, and I’m going to help her, no matter what.”

“I don’t recall asking for assistance,” I said, speaking to no one in particular. “Pity, yes. Help, no.”

“’Course you did.” The yellow filly came around to my face. Her associates took up positions by her side. “You were all banged up and asked me to bring friends, so I did.”

“I was speaking metaphorically,” I said, tilting up and getting my first good look at my captors. “What I believe I said was that I wished you would bring ‘an end’ to my suffering.”

“Ohhhh…” The light of realization took a moment to spark with this one. “I thought you asked me to bring some friends.”

“An understandable mistake.” My head flopped back in the wagon. “Now, if you would be so kind as to find something solid, I wish to get this over with.”

“What are you talking about?” miss orange hide asked.

“Nothing fancy, a nice rock will work perfectly well.” I tried to arrange myself in preparation. “I believe the torture from the ride here was sufficient. Let us proceed to the execution.” Lowering my head over the side, the target lined up properly with the fillies height. “Be careful not to strike too close to the horn. The chitin is thicker at the base.”

“Uhh, Apple Bloom?” A prodding orange hoof bumped the yellow one’s flank. “The bug’s not making any sense.”

“Are you sure she’s a bug?” The white one lifted my tail, but I let her. It’s not like I had much choice in the matter. “She kind of looks like a pony, all except for the hard, black coat, I guess.”

The orange one lifted my hind leg. “Ponies don’t have holes.”

“Quite right,” I answered. Someone had to settle the argument or this would never end. “If you wouldn’t mind, I’d like a hole added to my head now. Nice and quick, and we’ll call it settled.”

The yellow one, Apple Bloom if I am correct, gave a sigh. “We’re not gonna hurt ya. We’re trying to help you get better.”

“Why would you do a silly thing like that?” I asked. The ridiculous notion of aid from the enemy led me to believe I was merely hallucinating. If not, perhaps they intended to heal me so they could spend additional time in torture before I succumb. The Queen would be jealous.

Her smile brought new concerns. “’Cause that’s what we do. We always help anypony, or, I guess, changeling, in need. We’re gonna make sure you get better, unless… You don’t plan on eating us, do you?”

Maybe they were incredibly dumb.

I laughed. “Silly pony. I am a princess. I have no desire to consume you. As such, your pitiful attempts to assist me do nothing but prolong my affliction. My life was over the moment I hatched from the Queen’s egg.”

The white one leapt on top of the wagon. Her legs splayed to the sides, she stared straight down from above. “Wow! You’re a princess?”

“Umm, yes,” I croaked. “That’s not a good thing, if you were wondering.”

“Why not?” She hopped down and proceeded to twirl her way toward a pile of hay. “I bet you have some amazing castle with like everything you ever wanted, right?” Flopping into the pile at the end, pink and purple bobbing curls popped up with added bits of yellow stripe. “Right?”

“Not exactly.” I rolled my eyes, resigned to the task of explaining the horrible existence of a changeling princess to a bunch of fillies. “The Queen rules the hive. A princess serves as fodder for her rage. Rarely would a princess deign to face the Queen and live to assume her role. Such is the way of things. I was taught otherwise, and for most of my life, I believed the lie. This was my folly.”

“How old are you?” Apple Bloom asked.

“Ten,” I replied.

“You sure you aren’t older, ‘cause you sure use some strange words.”

“I am certain.” The stares of the three made me wonder if perhaps I was wrong to assume what was sure to me only moments ago. My formal training was extensive, but I had been lied to before. “I came of age two days prior.”

“You mean, like, a birthday?”

“You might call it that.” I regarded her term and sought to find understanding of its significance. “As a princess, I spent every waking moment of my life preparing to one day become Queen, the same as my sisters. On the tenth anniversary of my hatching, I came of age. In retrospect, it was not something to look forward to.”

“Did you get any presents?” The white one shook out her mane and trotted over to join the others.

“As you can see, I received many.” The slow drip from my side seemed to have congealed, but my wings and foreleg remained inoperable. The fillies examined my broken form before continuing their interrogation.

“Your friends beat you up?” Orange fur’s eyes opened wide. “On your birthday!?”

“That’s how it works, and I wouldn’t exactly call them my friends.” I could see my words made little impact in bringing the point across. “When a princess reaches maturity, she must challenge the Queen. If the Queen is weak, it the duty of the princess to strike her down and take her place. Our Queen is not weak. Perhaps one of my sisters will one day prevail, but I know that won’t be for a very long time. I was a fool to believe any different.”

“Your mother did this!?” Curly mane looked furious.

“Yes. It was expected. I played my part.” I shied away, turning my head to peer out the upper window at the risen moon. “What I did not expect was for her to let me live. She must have been in a particularly horrible mood not to tear my head from my shoulders and gorge on my entrails. Instead, she mocked my very existence by turning me away from the hive. Broken, I crossed the plain and slunk into the forest. Her cruel laugh haunts me even now.”

“That’s… That’s terrible!” Apple Bloom squealed. “I can’t believe she would do that. To her own daughter!”

“Apple Bloom!” another voice called from outside.

“Quick! Hide her!”

The three fillies charged the wagon. In seconds, they hoisted me up and carried me to the haystack. Apple Bloom tore a blanket off a nearby stall rail and tossed it over my head. It smelled like apples; I don’t particularly like apples. Regardless, it was warm. The soft hay eased the painful burden of my side while somehow relieving the pressure in my leg. I couldn’t feel my wings, so they didn’t matter. Two lumps lay across the covering, pinning me down.

Tucked away, protected by these unlikely captors, I strained to hear the conversation that continued a few yards from where I lay.

“Okay, sis,” Apple Bloom said. “Just let me say goodnight to my friends.”

“Alright, sugarcube,” the new voice replied. “You look like you’ve had a long day. Say goodnight, and come in for supper.”

Two lumps slid off the blanket. I should have felt pain. Instead, the warmth of the cover fed comfort to my weary soul. An orange hoof pulled back the corner draping my head. I jerked slightly as the fabric caught my horn.

“Sorry,” the timid voice said.

“No harm done,” I answered, my vision opening up on the trio once again.

Their leader looked back over her shoulder. “Scootaloo, grab a bucket and fill it with water. Sweetie Belle, grab another and get some apples. I’ll keep a lookout.”

The two fillies nodded and scampered off to their assigned tasks before I could protest. What I wouldn’t give for a sip of sweet nectar. I struggled with the thought that these ponies meant to offer me aid. Cool refreshment of any sort seemed beyond my grasp, yet here I was, about to partake. “I could do without the apples, never really cared for them.”

The filly just shook her head. A mischievous grin spread across her muzzle. “You’ve never tried a Sweet Apple Acres apple then, have you?”

I grimaced a smile in return. “Can’t say I’ve had much else than the leftover scraps from the Queen’s table. If I was lucky enough to find an apple, it was probably only the core.”

“Just sit tight then, ‘cause you’re in for a treat.” Apple Bloom stepped aside as her friends deposited their haul at my feet. “I’m sorry we can’t stay the night. I asked if everyone could sleep over, but my sister said no. We’ll be back tomorrow to check on you. Try and stay outta sight in the hay. Otherwise, you’ll be safe in the barn.”

I nodded. “Should I survive the night, I look forward to seeing you on the morrow.” I wasn’t sure why I said that. Meeting with the enemy, no matter how accommodating, should not result in a desire to continue the encounter. My prospect of death shifted slightly in favor of living, but I remained far from convinced.

The trio moved off leaving me to my meal. I overheard talk of bandages and wing care while scoping out the pails set before me. Unable to move much more than my neck, I considered asking further assistance. Weighing my magic reserves, I quickly set aside the notion. The girls shuffled out the door, shutting me in for the night in what should rightly have been my cage. That thought fell away as well. This place already felt more like home than the hive.

My horn alight, a steady stream of liquid rose from the first bucket, gliding its way toward my waiting mouth. After consuming nearly all the water, I paused. The apples from the second bucket looked fresh, their skin unbroken and flesh intact. Never in my life had I taken the first bite. That privilege fell to the Queen. Could I even try? I quickly raised an apple to my mouth and sunk my fangs deep into the soft flesh. The juice erupted over my tongue and my mouth exploded with joy. I drew in the nectar, savoring every swallow. The first one drained, I tore into the next. Soon, the bucket sat empty; my belly full for the first time in forever.

Swimming in the wonder of sensation swirling through my body, I couldn’t help but ponder on the reality of my situation. The only logical solution was that I had already slipped the mortal coil. This had to be what death felt like. It wasn’t possible that any shred of my former life remained. How could it be that after all these years, I felt more acceptance from these young fillies than from any of my own kind? I must be dead already, or dreaming of it in the waning minutes of life. Gliding on the gentle waves of peaceful thought, I trailed off to sleep.

---

A dream within a dream enveloped my frame. Light pink fur spread across my flanks sliding down my legs and cropping up against a gleaming hoof. Tricolored hair draped over my eyes in shades of light purple and red flanking a swath of moderate fuchsia. Three fillies tied a red bow in my mane to complement the larger wrap circling my middle and again around my foreleg. Forgotten were my horn and wings. In this moment, I was happy.

A sudden burst of light filled the room. The trio drew back in awe. Smiles and hugs followed a moment later. I looked back toward my tail, the same colors proudly swaying in steady rhythm. On my rump, three little hearts of orange, yellow and white filled the flat space. In that instant, I felt complete, utterly whole.

No sooner had the joy of that moment filled my heart, I sensed it breaking apart. The pain returned. Darkness swept over my companions. I raised my head to meet the layering green glow from two slits hovering above. A crooked horn above that dripped a splash of acid pouring down over me. Eating away at my colorful mane, only the acrid stench of flesh and fur melting into chitin filled my nostrils. I thrashed at the venom as it slowly consumed me. My hooves rang hollow against the solid carapace enveloping my core.

I lay in the dark, mingling with the shadow once again. The buffeting echo of the Queen’s monstrous laugh seized my ears. I cried out in response, “No!”

I woke with a start. The light of the sun shone down through the loft, warming the spot where I lay. It wasn’t far from the haystack where I began the night’s dream. I raised my good leg up to block the glare of the sun. Once again, the light filtered through the empty space dotting the end.

The door creaked.

I turned to find myself completely exposed. Safety beneath the blanket or in the haystack itself were too far off to even consider. My injured foreleg barely responded before a shooting pain flooded my head. I watched helplessly as the door swung open, revealing my nakedness to the outside world.

Apple Bloom quickly jumped inside, gently shutting the door behind. “Shhh,” she whispered. “My sister’s close by. She can hear it when you yell like that.”

She hopped to my side and drove her head under my neck. With my good leg draped over her shoulder, she hauled me back to my pile of hay.

I opened my mouth to thank her, but she held a hoof against it turning back toward the door. She dropped to the side and scooped up the blanket. In the same motion, she heaved it over my body. I heard the door open in nearly the same moment.

“Apple Bloom?” the voice from last night asked, “where’d you run off to?”

“I’m right here, sis.” The shuffle of tiny hooves beat a hasty retreat from my position. “Just checking the stores.”

“Good. I need your help in the fields this morning. We’ve got a lot of planting to do.”

“Alright, I’ll get my seed bags and meet you out there.”

“Okay, but don’t keep me waiting.”

The clop of much larger hooves faded into the distance. The smaller ones came racing back toward me. Figuring the coast was clear, I poked my head out from under the blanket. Apple Bloom had already retrieved the water bucket and made quick work of getting it filled. Another bucket of ripe, delicious apples soon made a breakfast pairing.

“I gotta go help my sister in the fields. The others should come by as soon as they gather the stuff they’re supposed to get.” Apple Bloom turned to leave, but tilted her head back around. “Sorry if you don’t like the apples. It’s kind of all I got.”

“The apples are amazing, and I appreciate everything you’ve done for me,” I said, holding back on the tears from the mix of pain and gratitude.

“I’ll try and make it quick, but I can’t promise anything.” She ran for the far end of the barn and slipped on a pair of small packs before zipping past my bed and out the door.

Again, I was alone. Even so, the same feeling as last night swept over me. That warm glow spread through my core and radiated out from there. My pain melted away as I took in a draught of fresh juice. I ate slowly, savoring each moment. Lifting my broken leg, I barely noticed a difference. I certainly couldn’t move anything below the knee, but it no longer hurt. My magic felt stronger now than before my short-lived battle with the Queen. I could feel something taking hold of me, and I embraced it. I couldn’t bear to let it go.

The rest of the morning passed without incident. I attempted a short walk to the far end of the barn but only got as far as the next stall before my body gave out. Apparently it takes more than euphoria to mend a broken carapace. The crack in my side oozed a bit when I moved. My leg did the same if I tried to apply pressure. My lofty goal of a cross room trek fell back to a few steps forward followed by a painful retreat. I curled up on the hay and waited for the fillies to return.

The first to arrive was the white one, whose name I’m pretty sure is Sweetie Belle. She furrowed her brow as she dug through her pack. Short strips of cloth in all manner of colors fell to the ground while she fought to draw out one particularly long purple piece. Having accomplished the task, her smile quickly changed as she stared down at me.

“I guess we can start with your leg,” Sweetie Belle said eying my cracked flank. “We’ll have to wait for the others on the big one.” She gathered up a number of smaller swatches and laid them out side by side. “Which color do you like?”

I looked over the assortment. The question had never been asked of me. “I don’t think I have a favorite color, unless you count black. Pretty much everything is black where I come from. Which do you like?”

“Hmm…” She bit her lip and stroked her chin. “Let’s try white. It’s pretty much the opposite of black, but I think it works for this.”

“Okay,” I said, nodding my head and extending my leg as carefully as I could. Before I could blink, my cannon sported a lovely white bow. I didn’t even feel a thing. “Thank you,” I added, my lip quivering in the anti-climax.

The door creaked again. I did my best to dive beneath the blanket, and Sweetie Belle pulled over the rest. In another moment, she pulled back the corner and smiled. “It’s just Scootaloo. We’re okay.”

The filly approached, a frown hung across her muzzle. “Sorry I’m late. I couldn’t find what I was looking for.”

“That’s okay, Scootaloo.” Sweetie Belle dropped into a short hug with her friend which seemed to pass some of the cheer to the one most in need of it. “We could use your help to get the big bandage on her… I’m sorry, I don’t even know your name.”

“It’s alright. I don’t have a name.” I tried to hold a smile as two fillies’ jaws dropped. “The only one with a name is the Queen. She gets to choose it when she assumes the throne. The rest of the drones, or princesses, don’t matter, so we don’t have names.”

“Doesn’t that get confusing?” Scootaloo asked.

“It’s actually quite simple,” I replied. “You are either a drone, a princess, or the Queen. It’s really not that complicated.”

“Yeah, but how do you tell each other apart?” Sweetie Belle asked.

“We don’t.” It felt good to have such a simple answer to give. “The drones can’t really think for themselves, so they don’t care. Princesses don’t live long enough for it to matter. If one does, she’s the new queen and she picks out a name for herself.”

“So what should we call you?” Scootaloo cracked a smile.

“I-I don’t know,” I stammered. “You’re sort of putting me on the spot here. Maybe if you give me some time, I can think of something?” The thought of giving myself a name hadn’t occurred to me as yet.

“Sorry.” She blushed and drew away. “It’s just weird to have a friend without a name.”

A friend? Is that what she called me? “I’ll try and think of a good one. When I have it, I’ll be sure and let you know.” The warm glow swelled inside me. Magic poured from my horn and swept down my neck.

The fillies looked scared and fell back. I reached out toward them. “What’s wrong?” The return stares and pointing hooves led me to examine myself. I ran my foreleg across my cheek and down my neck. The soft touch of fur brushed against the slick chitin of my leg. It felt amazing.

I reached back to feel how far the changes went, but stopped short when the pain in my side returned in full force. The others rushed forward. Scootaloo hauled me up. Lifting my barrel off the ground she balanced my forward half across her back. Sweetie Belle wasted no time in slipping the long purple strip around my middle while tying off the ends in another lovely bow.

Gently, Scootaloo lowered me to my bed and Sweetie Belle drew the blanket back over my hind quarters. I took several deep breaths before nodding my head and giving thanks. “I don’t deserve any of this. By all rights, I should be dead. In spite of the pain, I don’t think I’ve ever felt more alive than I do right now. Thank you both; thank you all.”

“Oh good, you’re both here.” Apple Bloom barely made a sound slipping into the barn undetected. “And… wow… that’s new! I see you got the bandages though. Did you find out anything about setting a broken wing?”

“Nope,” Scootaloo answered, kicking at the ground and failing to make eye contact. “Everypony I asked just looked at me weird. Even Twilight got all flustered and tried to take me to the hospital when I brought it up. All I wanted was a book or something. I was sure she’d have one lying around like she always does.”

“It’s alright,” I said, smiling the biggest smile I could manage. “My wings don’t hurt. In fact, I don’t really care if they ever heal.” I sort of expected the reaction that comment garnered. A mixture of odd stares and horrified glares spoke volumes. “If you’ll allow, I’d like to try something.”

The trio gave each other sideways glances, but they soon turned and nodded their approval.

I laid back and focused as hard as I ever had. Slowly, the magic began to flow from my horn, spreading over my body like a warming breeze. The feeling was unlike anything I had ever experienced. As a princess, I wasn’t allowed to practice the shape-shifting or illusionary magic arts. The Queen forbade its use by any daughter of the court. Those rules no longer applied to me.

I gazed down in awe as the pale pink coat draped over my black exterior. Holding up my foreleg, the holes borne on the tip sealed up in the fuzzy pink tufts reaching down to my shiny new hooves. I could feel the explosion of color as my new tail burst out replacing the old, dingy blue. Last of all, a tri-colored swath of hair covered my eyes. The changes complete, I closed my eyes and basked in the glow.

Three little fillies threw themselves on me. Their giggles filled my ears and drew away the last notes of pain in my side.

“You’re a pony!” Apple Bloom shouted.

“You’re just like us!” Sweetie Belle squealed.

“You’re totally awesome!” Scootaloo cheered.

I hugged the trio with all the strength I could muster. My tears were tears of joy. No longer did I feel the lingering pain of death’s touch reaching out to drag me down. All I felt was the love of three amazing friends lifting me up. They saw me as a pony—a pony just like them—someone unique and special, not simply another princess or drone. I felt like a queen.

The hug parted and the trio rose to stand. The tears in my eyes might have had something to do with it. Even though I felt whole, they feared for my injuries. I rolled over and steadied my new hooves underneath. I tapped the former broken leg to the ground, testing a little weight, but it felt fine. Better than ever, in fact.

In one smooth motion, I rose up and tossed my mane over my shoulder. A large clump of hair promptly fell across my face. I jerked back and forth to try and get it to lie flat, but to no avail. Apple Bloom chuckled at the sight and stepped forward. Taking the bow from her own head, she ran the red ribbon through my mane. Drawing back the hair from my face, she gave it one more loop before securing it with a knot, completing my new look.

She stepped back, taking in the view with Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle at her sides. I could feel my heart filling to the point of overflowing with the gratitude and love I felt bursting within. I wanted this feeling to go on forever; I wished from the depths of my soul that it would. A flash and three squealing fillies later, I knew this was only the beginning.

The door swung open.

“What’s going on in here?” The voice from before now had a mare to go with it. “Who’s this little filly?”

“We can explain!” Apple Bloom fell to the ground, her hooves raised in plea to her sister.

“It’s not what you think!” Scootaloo joined a moment later.

“Don’t hurt her, please!” Sweetie Belle completed the trio of groveling fillies.

“Now why would I do that?” The mare stepped forward. My muzzle barely reached her shoulder. “What’s your name, missy?”

I looked up into the sparkling green eyes staring down at me. I felt a twinge of fear, but steadied myself to answer. “I never had a name, that is, until now.” I glanced over at my friends, each popping their heads up and turning their ears to hear the announcement. “Thanks to your sister and her friends, I know who I am and what my name should be. Through their generosity, kindness, and love, the holes in my heart have been filled. I am no longer a nameless changeling princess. Today, I take up my throne and proclaim myself a pony—a pony by the name of, Lovely Heart!”

“Changeling!?” The fire ignited in those deep green eyes. I shrank in terror of the beast I had inadvertently unleashed. “Scootaloo, run and fetch Princess Twilight—NOW! Apple Bloom, Sweetie Belle—inside the house, GO!”

“But, sis—”

“Not a single word! MOVE!”

I cowered on the spot. Nothing remained of the princess I was. My horn, my wings, my whole life—not that any of that mattered—all of it gone. My friends burst into tears and I joined them in that respect. I watched as they left the barn, some slow and one fast. I tried to catch one last glimpse as they turned past the door, but my attempt met the wrathful glare of Apple Bloom’s sister.

My dream was coming true. All of it.

---

It didn’t take long for another to join. The one called ‘Twilight’, a princess in her own right, brought all the questions, and I replied as best I could.

“You admit to being a changeling?”

“Yes.”

“And you refuse to drop the illusion?”

“I can’t.”

“You can’t, or you won’t?”

“Even if I wanted to, which I don’t, I can’t. My magic won’t respond. I don’t even have a horn anymore.”

“Changeling magic is illusory in nature. Why are you lying about not having a horn?”

“I don’t know. I wasn’t allowed to study shapeshifting magic, so I’m not exactly sure how this works.”

“How is that? You’re obviously not a drone. Why would a queen not understand the basic concepts of changeling magic?”

“I’m not a queen. I used to be a princess, though.”

“A princess?”

“Yeah… Not a drone. Not a queen. Sort of a fallback in case we ever need a new queen, but really nothing else. There’s a whole bunch of us.”

“Interesting…”

I looked up from the ground which I had thoroughly examined over the course of the last several minutes. Twelve small pebbles, eight blades of hay, dirt; I could probably relate the size, length, and color of each spec should it ever be required. The unflinching green eyes of the orange mare remained locked on target: me. Twilight paced across the barn, muttering to herself.

“Ah ha!” The Princess turned and signaled to my jailer. “Applejack, take a step back. I’m going to try a little magic.”

“Whatever you say, Twilight.” Applejack snarled. “You just give me the word, and I’ll buck this little bug clear out of Equestria.”

“Just give me a clear shot, please.” Twilight’s horn ignited. Applejack backed away.

I braced for impact, knowing full well what was coming. I could already smell the fur burning away from my black undercoat. Closing my eyes, I tried to maintain one last image of the pony I wished I could remain forever. Like all my other wishes, it was never meant to be.

The crackle of magic washed over me like a tidal wave. I didn’t budge. A couple of birds peering down from the rafters took flight, but I remained rooted in place.

I opened my eyes.

With a sniff, my furry pink muzzle tasted the air. It didn’t taste right. I should be smelling the acidic burn from re-exposed chitin painfully overtaking my fur. All I could smell were apples.

Twilight looked just as shocked as I felt. She picked up her hooves and cautiously made her way forward. “That was my changeling reveal spell. It should have destroyed all form of illusion.” Circling around, she took in the sight from every angle. With a discerning eye, she poured over every inch of my furry body.

After what felt like an eternity under her gaze, she stopped. Reaching out, she lay a hoof against my flank. The warm glow returned, bubbling to the surface and throbbing out from each tiny heart. She gasped. “I don’t understand.” Her hoof dropped to the ground and she resumed her pacing.

“Could I ask a favor,” I said.

“Depends on the favor,” Applejack answered.

“It’s not much. All I ask is that you allow me to say goodbye to my friends before you execute me.” The words felt like razors slicing up from my throat. “I need to say ‘thank you’ one last time.”

“What do you mean?” Twilight asked. She stopped her pacing and took a few steps toward me.

“I want to say thanks to the fillies that fixed me.” I raised my head and directed my plea at the Princess. “I was broken, and they patched the holes in my heart. It’s because of them that I know what it feels like to be loved. Just let me say goodbye, and I’ll go quietly.”

“Applejack,” Twilight turned her attention away from me, “please bring the girls in.”

“But…” Applejack drew back. “She’s a changeling!”

Twilight smiled and spread out her wings. With a flap, she lifted off the ground. Her horn took on a glow and the stars on her flank sparkled, emitting a light that danced around the barn interior.

“Whoa now…” Applejack scooted forward. The apples on her flank beamed a bright red, shining their own light and not merely reflecting Twilight’s glow.

I felt a familiar warmth spread through my flank. My own little hearts danced and sang adding three more colors to the surroundings.

The glow subsided, and Princess Twilight floated down. Smiling directly at me, she tipped her head giving a nod of acceptance. “I don’t know how it happened, but this little filly is one-hundred-percent pony. Her cutie mark is irrefutable proof of that.”

“Well I’ll be,” Applejack said, shaking her head. “What’s the deal with that cutie mark spell, Twi?”

Twilight gave a little giggle. “I’ve been doing some research into one of least understood fields of Equestrian magic: cutie mark magic.”

“What do you mean?” Applejack looked a little confused and I found myself even more lost than usual. “Everypony knows you get your cutie mark when you discover that special something that makes you who you are.”

“That’s not all,” Twilight replied. “A cutie mark is a special kind of pony magic. Unlike a unicorn horn, pegasus wings, or earth pony hooves, it’s something that all ponies have in common, and something that makes each one of us unique. Nopony can give it to you, and nopony can take it away. It’s one of our most powerful magics.”

Applejack rubbed her chin. “So how’d a changeling end up with one?”

“That’s a very good question.” Twilight approached and lifted a hoof to my bow giving it a bit of a tease. “I believe she tapped into her changeling magic in such a way that she actually became a pony. In doing so, she discovered who she was truly meant to be. Cutie mark magic took care of the rest.”

“I can’t take credit for any of that,” I said. “It was all my friends’ doing.”

Twilight smiled down at me. “Applejack, would you mind fetching the girls now. I’m sure they would love to see their friend.”

“You don’t have to ask me twice,” Applejack replied.

“I believe I just did,” Twilight said.

Applejack blushed, then nodded, and finally trotted away.

---

“Are you sure we’re not in trouble?” A floppy, red mane poked out from behind Applejack. Two other heads and three bouncy tails followed.

“On the contrary,” Twilight said, “congratulations are in order. The four of you deserve an award!”

“Four?” I asked. “I had nothing to do with it.”

“Of course you did,” Twilight replied. “You all played a part in one of the most amazing displays of friendship I have ever seen. It isn’t every day you find a changeling turned pony who gets her own cutie mark. All of you deserve some recognition for that, maybe even the title of ‘Honorary Princess’!”

“I don’t think I ever want to be a princess again, honorary or not.” I ran forward and dove into the embrace of my friends. “I’m happy just being a pony.”

Applejack slid aside next to Twilight. “I don’t know about awards, but we’re gonna have to figure out some livin’ arrangements for the new addition, don’t want her sleeping in the barn.”

“Ahh, is it too late to ask for a sleepover?” Apple Bloom asked over my shoulder as we hugged. “Lovely Heart can share my bed.”

“We can do better than a simple sleepover,” Twilight replied. “Let’s go back to the castle and celebrate. You can all stay the night. We’ll worry about her long-term accommodations after we talk to Celestia. For now, Lovely Heart can stay with me.”

“Princess Castle birthday party! Hooray!” Sweetie Belle cheered.

Scootaloo finished her hug and smiled at me. “A few days late, but you’re only ten once, right?”

“Wait a minute,” Applejack said. “You’re only ten?”

“Yes,” I answered plainly. “That’s when a princess comes of age and has to face the Queen—her rules. The ten year anniversary of my hatching was three days ago.”

“But that means... you’re still a child.” Twilight dropped back into thinking mode. “Your magic didn’t have time to mature.”

“I guess.” I really had nothing to base my understanding on other than what I had been taught, which I already knew to be a lie.

“I think I see what’s going on here.” Twilight draped a foreleg across my shoulder. “The Queen is eliminating her competition before you grow powerful enough to challenge her.”

“All I know is what I’ve been told.” It felt kind of awkward to think back to my former life. At this point, I wanted to forget it ever happened. All the training to become Queen had been a lie geared toward keeping up the pretense of order in the hive. I knew better now. It’s not like every princess could grow up to one day become queen.

“You poor thing.” Twilight wrapped me up in a hug complete with a wing surround. “I’m so sorry you had to go through that.”

“Don’t be,” I said. Her gentle embrace touched my soul. A mother’s love should feel like this, not at all what I was accustomed to. “All that matters now is that I’m here, and I have friends for the first time in my life. I couldn’t be happier.”

I sat back and started to remove my bandages. With a little help from Twilight’s magic, the knots came free. First, the white from my leg which I handed to Sweetie Belle. Next, the purple from my barrel which I handed to Scootaloo. As I reached for my mane and the large red bow atop my head, a yellow hoof rose to stop me.

“You can keep that. We’ll call it a birthday gift.”

I smiled and rose to my new hooves. “Thank you, Apple Bloom, and thank you all.”

We all had a bit of a giggle and finished with a big group hug. I stepped away from the group and took in a deep breath. Five smiling faces nodded back. The hive was a distant memory and fading fast. My future looked brighter than ever.

“Shall we get a move on?” Applejack asked, holding the door. I nodded, and Twilight led the way as we took to the road.

Walking out into the open, I soaked in golden rays of sun. With every step I took, I felt stronger, more alive. The sweet smell of apples wafted all around, and the birds sang a cheerful song from the trees. I could tell my life as a pony would be a lot different than my life as a princess, and yet, every new beginning comes from some other beginning's end. Closing the door on that old life, I opened up a bright new future for myself alongside my new friends. My old life without them was certainly not one worth living. I’d learned that the hard way. Perhaps, one day, I could share that lesson with the Queen.