For the rest of the day, Scylla did her best to entertain our gryphon guest with anything she could think of, from showing off the new toys she had gotten from me, to sharing crafts that she had been working on in her free time, and getting small games for us all to play together. It was a fairly amusing display from the little kelpie, and even more amusing watching Anya try to keep up with it all. It was so rare to see Anya in a situation where she didn’t have control, and that it was a little filly making her do all this stuff added a bit of humor to it all.
Scylla had worked so hard to squeeze in as many activities into the small amount of time she had with the older female, that when it came time for Princess Celestia to lower the sun and raise the moon, the kelpie found herself struggling to both think of more things to do with Anya, and to keep her eyes open to continue. When the yawns started coming, I announced that it was time for bed, directing Scylla to the bathroom, while having to drag Anya in with us for a group brushing of our teeth and beak.
Once done with pre-bed rituals, I guided Scylla to bed, watching the kelpie climb under her blanket, tucking her in tightly so I knew she’d be warm. “Pleasant dreams, my little angel fish.” I told her, before giving her a small kiss on the forehead. I was rewarded with a soft giggle for my efforts, as Scylla snuggled up into her bed and closed her eyes.
This was all being observed by Anya from the doorway, who gave me a bemused look for my parent act. She might have been harsh with me outside about the situation, but the stern and serious gryphon had to give into the cuteness of this affectionate display.
“So, did you want me to sleep on the couch tonight, or would you like to share the bed with me?” I asked after shutting the door, slightly hoping to share some alone time with her.
“Actually, I think I’m gonna head out,” Anya replied, already making her way to the door, “I really do need to get ready in the morning, and that means collecting all my stuff and heading out to meet my client.”
“You know Scylla’s gonna be sad you left before she could say goodbye,” I told her, admittedly trying to get the gryphon to stay more for my sake.
“She probably already knows that I’ll be gone in the morning,” Anya replied, shooting down my attempt to guilt her, “She’s a smart girl, I think she realizes that she failed to tire me out before it was time to go to sleep.”
I had to concede to Anya’s desire to leave, as I had even less sway over convincing her on anything than Scylla did, her willful gryphon nature unmoved by my wishes. “Ok, then have a safe trip. Be careful out there though. Don’t let this be the last time we see you.”
“I will be,” Anya said, though she knew as much as I did that in her line of work, she didn’t have final say on if she’d return or not. That tiny bit of reassurance was the best she could offer though.
Giving me a kiss similar to the one I had given Scylla, except that it was directed to my lips, she opened the front door, and flew into the night. I watched as she became nothing more than a black dot in the night sky, and then merged with the darkness. At that point, I had little left to do, save for go and join Scylla in sleep.
The next morning, I woke up to find Scylla already in the living room, working on some worksheets I had prepared for her. I took a brief moment to go over what she had already done, seeing that her addition and subtraction had no errors, and that she had a pretty good grasp on key events of Equestria’s founding, though put Chancellor Puddinghead’s name down as ‘Puddlehead’. She was having a small bit of trouble in alchemical chemistry, but I had trouble with that as a kid too, so I cut her some slack when it came to that subject.
I continued to let her wrap her head around that topic, so I went to prepare a nice breakfast for the both of us. Some bran cereal and milk, with a topping of bananas and strawberries, and a side of egg, something we both could enjoy together. I called Scylla over just as she got to her last assignment of the day, which was reading a chapter of a book as her reading and critical thinking lessons, and she happily left the living room table to come sit with me.
“So how long will it be until we see Anya again?” she casually asked, taking up her spoon, scooping up a nice combination of the things in her cereal bowl before taking a bite.
“You know her,” I answered, taking my own seat, “She comes and goes as she pleases. She’ll be in the middle of work too, so I bet it will be at least a month.”
“Well then next time she’s here, we’ll have to make her stay for a week to make up for it,” Scylla said, treating it like it wouldn’t be a request.
I had to chuckle, because if anyone in Equestria would be able to get Anya to stick around that long without some sort of compensation, it would be the filly sitting at the table, playfully pushing strawberry slices around in her milk.
“So Scylla… Would you like to go for a walk with me down that river? The one I used to take you to all the time?”
The kelpie filly looked up from her food bewildered, “Why are you asking me?”
“Well… why shouldn’t I ask you?” I said to her, “You’re the most important person in this family, after all.”
“No I’m not, daddy. You’re the one who takes care of us, so you’re more important.” she said with a giggle, realizing this was just a little joke, and that we both were just as important as the other. “It’s just… You usually just take me to the river with you when you want to go there. You’ve never asked me if I wanted to go before.”
I probably shouldn’t have been surprised that she caught onto something like that. She might have been young, but she picked up on things quickly. I didn’t know if that was a kelpie trait, or if I had actually done something right when raising her, but I wanted to believe it was the later. Her awareness aside, I guess I just wanted a reason not to go, having taken what Anya had said to me the evening before to heart.
“But yeah, we can go.” Scylla said, “I know you like that place a lot.”
I stifled what would have been a small groan, as she never learned the reason I always took her there.
“Then hurry up and finish your food.” I said, “That way we can get out there and maybe be back for lunch.”
Though as I instructed her to eat quicker, I started to slow my own pace. I had plans for this particular outing, and hoped that the results of our trek along that familiar river bank would be no different than usual, but couldn’t help but dread the idea that today might be the day I finally reunited Scylla with her rightful parents.
An hour later, Scylla and I were in the skies over Equestria. Having wings, flight was the best way of getting around, and using a harness that pegasi used to carry around foals too young to fly, I could take along a filly sized passenger. She was a little heavier than a pegasus her age would have been, but my wings had a lot of practice carrying around the extra weight.
I wasn’t the only one who had practice with this experience, as Scylla was enjoying herself, arms out at full spread, pretending she was gliding on them like wings. For some reason, she never had a fear of flying, calling her imitation of it ‘sky swimming’, claiming that the wind currents flowed over her like running water. It was an equation I suppose only an aquatic creature could come up with, and incredibly adorable to see in action. It was a shame to bring it to an end as we made it to our destination.
Landed at one end of the river, making sure to touch down softly for the sake of my passenger, I knelt down until her hooves touched the slightly damp soil a few feet away from the water. A few undone buckles later, and we were both detached from one another, ready to take a leisurely stroll down through the place where I first found her.
“Ok, you know the rules, right?” I asked, wanting to be sure that she understood what was expected of her.
“Rule one, keep hold of daddy’s hand till the walk is over.” Scylla said, coming to me to place her tiny hand into my own. “Rule two, don’t go into the water unless daddy says it’s ok.”
Since Scylla was an aquatic species, her desire to go into large bodies of water was somewhat instinctual. Several times I had to stop her from slipping into the river of her own accord, worried that she might disappear under the stream and never come back up, for more reasons than just her parents finding her.
“Rule three, if anyone approaches us on the trail, then keep calm and let daddy talk to them.”
That rule might have been made a bit scarier than it could have been, but if we were spotted by an angry kelpie father, I wanted Scylla to be a little prepared for what could happen. Personally, I was expecting to get the beating of a lifetime, and that was being optimistic after years of separation brought upon by my mistake. I could only hope that I’d be left alive, if only because the monster that was birth father would realize I had taken good care of her, or that he didn’t wish for his daughter to see him murder somepony in front of her, if for what might be the most righteous of reasons.
“That’s a good girl,” I said, glad to see that Scylla had remembered all the rules, though with as many times as we had taken this walk I probably shouldn’t have thought she wouldn’t.
Steeling my nerves for the unlikely event that this would be the day that I’d finally have to say goodbye to the young girl who had been living with me for the past four years, and began walking down the riverside one more time, Scylla matching my pace as we began our hike. I positioned myself closest to the river, for several reasons, all of which involved protecting the filly in my care from any form of harm.
As we traveled down what would end up being a mile or two of untended terrain, having to walk through plants and around tree branches that grew along the riverside. While I had to put some effort into maneuvering through these obstacles, Scylla was small enough that she could slip past any minor obstructions, and light enough that I could help her get over anything that was too big. When she was younger, I used to carry her the whole way, until she got to a point that she wanted to start climbing and walking herself.
The best part was that she really did seem to take to it, the activity of the hike, and seeing the wonders that the wilds had to show. Her eyes would dart around to take in the beauty of nature, from the trees, to the bugs, to the fish and birds that would occasionally jump out of the water or fly out of a tree to try and eat said bugs, and that enjoyment was something that stuck with her. The filly had certainly acquired an appreciation for the world of ponies she had been brought up in, and I couldn’t help but take some pride in the enjoyment and happiness that it brought her.
As we made around the halfway point, Scylla started to look a little fatigued, and started to catch her eying up the river constantly. I knew what this was, as it was something that I’ve learned about her as she was growing up. She was wanting to get some water, or to put it more accurately, her body needed moisture. Her body didn’t need to be wet all the time, despite what one might think of an aquatic creature, but submerging herself in water was something she enjoyed doing at least once a day, and the more activity she did, the more she’d want to take a dip.
“I see ya,” I said, letting her know that I was being attentive to her needs. I stopped to allow ourselves a break from hiking, and reached for a small bottle I had in my pocket, “Wait right here.”
“Ok,” Scylla said cheerfully, familiar with this routine.
With her agreeing to stay put, I approached the river, unscrewing the spray nozzle it had atop it. With it removed, I gave the water a scrutinizing glance from a safe distance, in case I’d notice something aside from my own reflection staring back at me, but once I was sure it was ok to approach, I knelt down at the bankside, and quickly allowed the slight muddy water to flow into the bottle.
Thankfully, this went without incident, though my heart was racing for the few seconds it took to fill the container. The reward was worth the moment of stress though, as I received the cutest “Thank you” in exchange for the water, said in an inflection that was utter like a two word song. Scylla then took the bottle, and started spraying its contents all over herself, misting it over her body as if it were a perfume, continuing to do so as we proceeded down the path, till her body and upper part of her body and dress had a thin coat of saturation.
Once that was done, I took something out of my other pocket, a small carton of grape juice to make sure her insides would get proper hydration as well. Seeing it, she happily exchanged the spray bottle for it. It took her a little bit to remove the straw glued to the box, and poke it through the flimsy material used to seal the carton, but once it went through there was no delay in her placing her free hand back into my own, as she greedily drank down the contents of box. It was whimsical to watch her, to experience the carefree actions of a foal by proxy, and I couldn’t help but feel a deep well of joy.
“So daddy,” she said, getting to the halfway point of her juice, “Why do you like coming here?”
“Well…” I replied, not really wanting to tell her the real reason we’ve passed through here so many times, “Don’t you think this place is neat? The plants, the animals, the river.”
“I like the river,” Scylla said, taking another sip of her drink, “But you never let me go near it. Is there something wrong with it?”
“Not with the river,” I answered, not wanting Scylla to be afraid of a part of nature that, in itself, couldn’t harm a creature like herself, “But I had a bad experience with it once, and I don’t want that to happen to you.”
“What happened?” Scylla asked, as it would be impossible for someone not to be curious when given a vague response like that.
“Well…” I said, hesitating a little, “One time I was here doing my job, and I saw this really interesting little fish next to the shore. When I went to get a closer look though, this bigger, scarier fish popped out of the water and attacked me.”
“That’s silly,” said Scylla, certainly picturing something like a bass jumping up to slap me in the face, “You think the little fish was its baby, and it was protecting it?”
That question made me become a bit coy, seeing how spot on it was, “I think so. Parents can be really protective of their kids…”
“Like you with me, daddy?” Scylla asked, though it sounded like a statement of fact the way she put it.
“Sorta,” I replied, “I certainly wouldn’t let anything hurt you, if I was able to stop it.”
“I know,” Scylla replied, “You’ve always taken good care of me.”
Hearing the kelpie say gave me a little more comfort, guiding me towards a decision I was trying to come to. The truth was that I was thinking of making this the last time we would take this walk, and that I’d just come to terms with my mistake by finalizing my adoption of the filly I had accidentally abducted. It was not the outcome that I had wanted from the beginning, but maybe destiny had put the two of us together for some reason. While I didn’t want to demonize her birth parents, the truth of the matter was that kelpies were notoriously hostile, and maybe a force out there wanted a different life for Scylla. At the time, that mindset was just me trying to rationalize more and more how this was all a good thing, but was it so bad to believe that as the truth?
We walked a bit further, and curiosity built up in the filly again, “So do you ever think that you’ll see that fish again?”
“I had kinda hoped I would someday,” I replied, talking about the bigger fish that, unbeknownst to Scylla, was her father, though in retrospect she was probably talking about the small fish that she likewise didn’t know was her, “But I honestly think that it’s gone. Even if I did see it again, I’m not sure what I’d do.”
“You could draw a picture of it,” Scylla suggested, “And then we could put it up on the wall next to my drawings.”
“I don’t know if this fish would sit still long enough to let me do that,” I replied, having no doubt in my mind that who I was talking about would never allow that.
“I could go in and make it hold still,” Scylla said, her skin shifting to a pale green, as she transformed into her full kelpie visage, looking like a gaunt water monster, her eyes black and sunken into her head. “I bet one look at me, and it would be scared stiff.”
I was caught off guard for a moment as she shifted her form, startled by the sudden change, which made Scylla laugh as she turned back. “You really need to warn me when you’re about to do that.” I said, though knowing the whole point of the transformation this time was to spook me in order to make her point.
She didn’t often use this ability of hers, as we have had issues with it in the past, when she’d get upset in public and change involuntarily. The first time she was old enough to realize she had done it, she cried for an hour because she thought something was wrong with her, but then I had a long talk with her to explain that it was natural for a kelpie, and that she would turn back in time. By next morning she found out I wasn’t lying, as she had reverted back to her less horrific appearance after a nice night of rest.
After that all she could think about for the next few days was how to control it, and while I had always found these dramatic changes to be linked to her emotional state, she eventually figured out how to change her appearance without being upset. Now that she mostly had control though, and knew that it was natural for her species, the form mostly came out for small pranks, except when she accidentally slipped into it during moments of anger. Personally, I was just thankful that all this didn’t lead into a conversation about why she was a kelpie, if she had a pegasus for a dad. Then again, it wasn’t uncommon to see mix matched pony parents and children, so she might not have seen it strange at all that I was an avian, and she was a water based creature.
A few more hours passed, and we had finally made it to the point where I usually called it quits for our hike. A place that was pretty special, as it was the very spot where I first found her.
Scylla didn’t know that little detail, but what she did know was that when we got to this point, it was time for her and I to take a break, before packing up and heading home. Her own legs having become tired from a long day of walking, the tiny kelpie slipped out of my hand hold, and went to a large tree nearby that she knew we’d be sitting under, having to drape her dolphin-like tail over one of the exposed roots that were popped up out of the ground around it.
I would soon join her, but first I wanted to give the river one last check, and by that I really did mean one final look, to see if somehow the stars would align after all this time, and I’d see an older kelpie in the water. I scanned the surface of the water at least a half a dozen times, but if there was somepony in there, I didn’t know, and they weren’t making any efforts to reveal themselves. So, finally relenting on my four year long quest, I gave up the search.
Accepting this outcome, even if it was less than satisfying, I went to join with Scylla, sitting aside her, with only another one of those exposed roots separating us. “Did you enjoy yourself today?”
“It was fun,” she replied, though it didn’t really seem like a sincere response. More like a ‘I know it makes you happy, so I’m happy’ response.
“Are you sure?” I asked, “Cause I was thinking that after all the times we’ve done this, you’d have gotten bored of it.”
“Well…” she started, drawing out the word a little, “Maybe it’s a little boring. We’ve seen pretty much everything here so many times, and the walk is always so long.”
I gave a small sigh to myself, knowing that I had just coaxed Scylla into giving me the last excuse I needed. “Well then, to be honest I was thinking you might not like coming here anymore. I’m trying to decide if this should be the last time we do it.”
The visible reaction I got from that was not what I was hoping for, as a disheartened frown lightly formed on her lips. “Does that mean that we won’t go out to do stuff together anymore?”
“No, no,” I replied, objecting to the very notion, “Just that we could maybe go someplace else for a change.”
“Where would we go?” Scylla said, both curious and excited about the idea of seeing other places.
“Well, we could go anywhere,” I answered, “We could take a tour of Canterlot, or maybe go hiking on a mountain, or…”
“Could we go to a beach to go swimming?” Scylla said, tossing in her own suggestion. Of course she’d want to do something that involved direct contact with water.
“Sure,” I said, seeing nothing wrong with the suggestion, “But I’m surprised you wouldn’t rather go to a water park.”
“Maybe we can do that when Anya comes back from work,” the kelpie answered, “But we’ve never been to the ocean, and I’ve always wanted to go.”
“Then I’ll figure out when’s the soonest we can go,” I said in agreement, thinking that Scylla deserved to have this small wish granted for my failure, “But we’ll have to set up some rules for the visit.”
“Ok!” Scylla agreed cheerfully, knowing that I was only looking out for her, and just happy that she would be able to go to a beach. She was so happy with the idea that she went over the root separating us, so she could give me the biggest sideways hug she could manage at that angle.
That sign of her affection finally sealed the deal with me, as I embedded the idea in my mind that Scylla was now my daughter. Anya had been right, that I would have been devastated had the young filly left my life, even if I had the closure of returning her to her rightful parents. So while us coming together was caused by a terrible mistake, it was both the worst and best mistake I had ever made, destiny putting us together so we could become a family.
“Okay, that’s enough of that,” I said, playfully slipping out of her hug, “We need to pack up and head home.”
Scylla got up from where she was sitting, stretching her muscles, before taking a few half skips towards the river, “Before we go, can I do something first?”
“What is it?” I asked, as I readied the straps on my flight harness.
“Since this is our last time coming here, could I go and touch the water before we go?”
This request was a little harder to agree to, since I had finally made up my mind about being the filly’s permanent dad, and I didn’t want some twist of fate to end up separating us. All my reservations crumbled though, when faced with her pleading eyes.
“Sure…” I said, “But let me go with you. I don’t want you getting dragged away if that big fish shows up.”
“Daddy, you’re silly.” she said, though doing as I said and waiting for me to go with her.
Together we approached the river, and with only a brief pause to once more make sure there was nothing more than actual fish swimming about in it, I led Scylla into it, holding her hand as tightly as I could without hurting her.
I entered slowly, dipping one hoof in first to make sure the water wasn’t too deep, then the other once I saw it only went halfway up to my knee. Once I was in, Scylla wasted no time hopping in herself, making a big splash on her entry, not caring that she was getting me wet in the process. The cold water on my body would have provided a good excuse for the light shiver I was getting, but Scylla didn’t even bother asking about it as she made the most of her time in the water, kicking up her hooves in it to play around in it as much as she could.
She tried to submerge herself once, but I prevented that by keeping my body standing up straight. “Scylla, don’t forget I have to fly you home, and if you get your clothes wet, it’s gonna make you a lot heavier than usual.”
“Ah!” Scylla said, not realizing that when she had tried to dunk herself, and not questioning that as the reason I stopped her, “Then…”
The kelpie swished her tail around in the water a bit, since no liquids would cling to her hairless skin. Scylla did this until she felt something in the water, and using the fin at the end of her tail, she lifted a small, but sizable rock.
“Here we go,” she said, carefully balancing it on her tail end as she guided me back to the shore, “Something I can use to remember all the times we came here.”
As we left the water, a huge weight felt like it had fallen off my shoulders. I was glad to be out, and that all Scylla wanted from the venture into the water was a small memento of this place, which held more importance to her than she could possibly know. Once back at the river bank, Scylla handed her newly found possession to me for safe keeping, which I stored into my pocket.
“It’s time to head home,” I said, to which I received a small nod of agreement from my now permanent ward.
I spent the next few minutes strapping her back into the flight harness, and once I made sure she was safely buckled in, I stood up straight, lifting the filly up off the ground with only my upper body. I then spread my wings, ready to take off and finalize this last trip. Before I could give a flap though, Scylla surprised me by lifting up her hand.
“Goodbye, river!” she said, waving to the water as if she was bidding farewell to a friend, “I’ll come back and see you again sometime.”
Scylla probably thought that I wasn’t serious about this being the absolute last time we came back, but for me that was absolutely the case for me. Now that I had accepted Scylla as my own, I never wanted to return to this place on the off chance that something would happen that would make me regret cementing my feelings towards the girl, as a parental figure.
However, for Scylla’s sake, I would play along, if only to keep this from becoming a sad moment for her. I raise my own hand, and waved as well, saying “Goodbye, river” in as cheerful a tone as I could manage. Once done, I flapped my wings, and rose the two of us into the sky. I got away form that spot as fast as the winds would take me, Scylla unaware that this was anything more significant than us going home after a long day of activity.
When we got home, I got right to work setting up lunch, which would be some freshly cooked hamburgers for the two of us, with a side of toast and zap apple jam, and some orange juice for the two of us.
As I cooked, Scylla pulled out the paints from my art supply, asking permission to use them first, and got to work personalizing her rock. She started by giving it a complete covering of blue, to indicate that the rock was one that came from the water I assume, and then used some white to paint two circles onto it, before putting two black circles within them. By the time she got to using the red and yellow, I figured out her crafts project was making a face for the piece of granite.
“What’s a good name for a rock?” she asked, painting a small tongue sticking out of the mouth.
“What about ‘Boulder’?” I answered, just trying to think of something related to stones.
“He’s not big enough to be a boulder,” Scylla said, dismissing my suggestion, “How about… Rocky?”
“Rocky’s too obvious,” I said, knowing that it was far too common to name a rock that. “What about… Dolomite? It’s a type of rock found near the water.”
“That name sounds too intense for a plain rock like this,” Scylla said, “I think I’ll go with… Joe.”
“Joe?” I said, bringing over a plate of food for Scylla, setting it next to her, opposite of her paints. “Oooohh, I think I get it. Like ‘geode’, but making it a normal name.”
“Yup!” she said, adding the final touches to Joe, “I wonder if he’s got gems inside.”
“Probably not,” I said, getting to work on making my plate, “And I don’t think you’ll want to crack him open to find out.”
“Don’t even suggest that!” Scylla said, huddling over Joe to protect him, “I’m gonna keep Joe safe in my room from here on out.”
I chuckled, because I found myself thinking the same thing about the kelpie filly sitting at my table. From now on, she would be safe with me, and I would protect her from any harm that might come to her. That was the promise I made to myself… as Scylla’s father.