//------------------------------// // Chapter 2 The Guard, the Chef, and the Sorceress // Story: My Daughter Chrysalis // by Scarheart //------------------------------// My room is a spacious little den, large enough to feel like a small house, yet small enough to be considered cozy in my eye. I've got a fireplace in the middle of the far wall as you enter the room, bed to the right, bathroom to the left. The furnishings are sparse, functional, solid, and look expensive, so much so I am afraid of sitting in them. The color scheme seems to favor an off white and pale yellow along the walls, with the ceiling a fresco of the night sky blending into the day. In the middle of the night is a dark blue outline of an alicorn, the day side sporting a similar profile of a white alicorn facing the dark one. The style reminds me a bit of the art work on ancient Greek pottery, the swirling curls in the clouds soft and inviting behind the alicorns. The sun radiates the colors of the day while the moon seems to reflect her opposite shyly. They compliment each other, I think as I spend time lingering over the brush strokes and finer details. I'm not too keen on the white and gold as it seems to make the room a bit too bright, but hey, it's not my palace. It's not like I'll be spending my life here. Large rugs are strewn about the hardwood floor, most of them of more subdued colors, thick and feeling just right under my bare feet. I find I like walking around barefoot when I'm in my room. It feels a shame to cover them up when the rugs feel this soft! There's an odd lounge-looking piece of furniture in front of the fireplace, mostly a collection of pillows around a small frame designed I'm guessing for reclining or curling up on, its low back facing away from the fireplace. It took me a while to realize it was meant for a pony to lay on and face a cheerful fire. A low table kind of what you would expect in a Japanese house is in front of it, not too far different from a coffee table, but with two levels. Again, after moments of pondering its purpose, I come to realize its some sort of desk. It seems to be made of solid oak, the craftsmanship superb and detailed with reliefs of unicorns carved into the stubby thick legs. The lounge thing is really comfortable to flop onto. Sprawling on it makes me feel like a kid again, waiting for mom to yell at me to get my feet off it. The bed is huge. I understand it was meant for a pony to stretch out on, but this is ridiculously huge! Its a four post bed with a canopy holding mosquito netting, or some material that leads me to believe it is. I'll admit it seems...girly. I'm a manly man, dammit! Men, men, men, manly men, men... I'm not helping myself here. That show hasn't been on in years. Winning! Shut up, me. Back to the bed. Ignore my rambling idiot self. I'm trying to describe my temporary living quarters while my mind is still trying to wrap itself around the simple fact I'm now in a pastel world with talking ponies, filled with magic, and with my adopted changeling daughter just across the hall from me. There's absolutely nothing wrong with any of this. It's all perfectly normal! Yes, perfect! Yay me. As I was saying, the bed is huge. Despite the four posts, it actually has a bit of an oval shape to it. I don't know why it is or the madness behind the creator who though such an odd bed would be neat, but the middle of the bed has a slight depression to it, allowing whoever lies in it to get the sensation of sinking into what I find to be a very comfortable goose down mattress. I took the time to ask the house mare. What was her name? It escapes me at the moment, but she strikes me as the pleasant older lady with a warm smile for guests but a flinty glare for her maids when they don't do their work to her liking. The sheets are made of cotton (not silk?) and the comforters are warm clouds to get lost into. There are a few bookshelves and a few paintings here and there on the wall. Most of it are scenes depicting nature; mountains, forests, rivers. Bob Ross must have spent a few weeks in Canterlot. Given his personality from his shows recorded decades ago, I would not be at all surprised if I found out he actually had. The bathroom is also large, meant for equines. The toilet is not too much different from what I'm used to, but it's a little wider and set a bit lower to the floor. There's a iron wrought tub, taps for hot and cold water and even a shower head. I prefer showers. Oh, I almost forgot the balcony! I have a small one, large enough for a chair and a small round table for me to watch the sunrise with a cup of coffee. I'm roughly five or six stories off the ground and the view is to die for...not that I plan on jumping any time soon. The face of the wall outside has a curvature to it, I notice almost like the roundness of some vast tree trunk. It feels to me like my balcony is but an opening to the tree; leading to a squirrel's nest. Don't ask me where I'm getting these descriptions. I'm in a fantasy world that shouldn't exist, but does. I'm still trying to wrap my head around the little convenience of being able to speak Equestrian like it's English. Or is it the other way around? Why the hell are human languages spot on with pony languages? That's too weird. It can't be a coincidence. It's human nature to be curious. Don't tell me you haven't wondered about it either. Remind me to ask somebody about it. And no, I won't degrade myself to using words like 'everypony' and 'anypony'. Dammit. At least Chrysalis chirps, using her vocal chords and her wings. That's about the only language I can't even begin to understand unless my thoughts are touching hers. Even then, it's not so much words as it is vague images I can't describe. I've mentioned before it's not telepathy we share, but an emotional bond. After thirteen years, it still feels like a foreign language unto itself, but I muddle through it well enough for it to feel like some sort of sign language. She's having her magic lessons right now. I'm pondering lunch, bored out of my skull as my first full day draws a close to the morning and swings towards the afternoon. I've been pretty much left to acclimate myself to Canterlot, keeping mostly to myself while I figure out what I want to do. Breakfast was buttered toast, a small fruit salad with roasted pecans, and coffee. Lots and lots of lovely coffee. Chryssie is going to be gone most of the day. I refuse to let her neglect her studies, no matter how much she pouts. "You don't love me anymore!" she had teased with huge round watery eyes, giving one of her infamous raspberries before trotting off towards where ever she goes to hurl spells. From what's she's indicated, Twilight is the only one willing to teach her as the overall stance towards changelings by ponies can easily be summed up as justifiably suspicious. I felt a pang of guilt as she tried to mask her anxiety from me. She's scared of the ponies because of what she's heard about her own actions she has no recollection of. In the conversation we had yesterday, she told me everything she could remember in the month she's been here. Oh, the princesses were nice to her, but they were wary. They did not completely trust my daughter. She could sense their fears. This explained her pony form, the black unicorn with the teal mane. She had even adopted a cutie mark depicting the masks of tragedy and comedy, like you see associated with theater. I think it suits her perfectly. Chrysalis is a natural actress, adopting a body shape like Luna's. I understand this is considered the 'fashion model' look some mares have (not that there's anything wrong with the normal shapes). I remember wincing as she trotted down the hallway to her class, her hips swishing and having the effect of every male stallion in the area noticing the movement of her flanks and tail and instantly locking on and staring. I nearly went on a killing spree, but reminded myself I was a guest in a foreign land. Instead, my ire fell on a nearby stallion - one of the staff, I assume - and growled as a good concerned father, "Something about my daughter's butt you like?" He stammered, blushing furiously and apologized before finding something important to do in the opposite direction my daughter was heading. Other ponies stared at me as I had spoken a bit louder than intended, Chrysalis having stopped dead in her tracks and hurling a startled and wide-eyed look in my direction. Flushing through her dark coat and casting a withering glare at me, she opened her mouth to speak, let it hang open, then shook her head before turning and resuming her trot down the hall. At least she wasn't swinging her hips all over the place this time. I could feel her embarrassment. I heard someone snickering. It died when I found a maid trying very hard to conceal a smile. She winks at me before going about her business. As she's delving into the world's histories and all that other stuff (getting an education she can actually use is always a bonus), I decide to head down the hall some hours later with the intention of getting a little exploration under my belt. As I walk, there's this odd prickling sensation just behind my forehead. I've never felt anything like it and I look around instinctively. Nothing seems out of the ordinary; there are ponies doing their jobs in the palace and there's the guard assigned to follow me and keep me out of trouble. He's a unicorn, wears armor of polished steel and bronze trim, fitted to his chest and shoulders, around his neck and barrel. Upon his head is an open-faced helm where his long rectangular snout pokes through. His coat is chestnut and his mane is a dark blonde. I think his name is Steel Jaw, but I can't be sure. He rarely says anything and stares at me like a hawk. His cutie mark (who decided in their history to call their birthrights cutie marks?) is what looks like an ice cube on fire. I was informed I could go anywhere I pleased in the palace and the ponies have been, for the most part polite towards me. "Hey Steel?" He looks at me like I'm about to whip out a machete and start hacking like a maniac. "Where's a guy gotta go to get food around here?" At least he wasn't staring at my daughter's rear earlier. He's definitely got what I would call a predatory look to him and it stays on me. Always on me. Creepy. Impassively he answers, "Take the next left, follow it down to the end of the adjacent hall and look for the spiral staircase to your left. It goes down half a story before opening into the side of the main kitchen. The staff use it all the time." Steel Jaw uses his right hoof to point and wave out directions while speaking. I point in the direction he described. The hall has a high arching ceiling with little square carvings decorating every inch of it in pearly white, the main entrance into this particular wing. The ornate interior bears hand carved reliefs, the hall decorated with vases and busts of what I assume are famous ponies. The floor is polished marble gleaming in the reflection of the sun streaming in through the tall windows. My guard follows me, his hoofsteps clip-clopping ominously like some stalker, echoing down the empty hall. As I approach my destination, I can see the opening just as my guard informed me. I wonder if he'd be more than happy to gore me with that horn of his if he felt inclined. Just as I approach the top of the staircase, a mare nearly barrels into me as she rushes up them. I had heard her coming, but for some reason didn't register in my head as I was in the middle of turning to ask another question to my babysitter. Nearly? Nah. Her skittering hooves catch my attention and I spin around, my eyes probably wide in surprise, her green ones just so as we lock. I zig when I should have zagged and suddenly there's a tangle of mane, legs, tail, and flailing arms as we fall to the floor in a heap. There's hair in my mouth and I'm sputtering, my eyes obscured as I seem to have taken the brunt of the impact falling down (it's not the fall that hurts, but the sudden stop), my lungs suddenly vacated of air. I'm gasping and gaping like a landed fish, my body and limbs frozen in place as my brain screams at my lungs to start sucking air. My lungs are currently giving my brains the middle finger. Both middle fingers. Oh, yeah the back of my head also said hello to the floor with enthusiasm. Yay me. "Oh, I'm so sorry!" a feminine voice calls out weakly. She squeals a bit as she struggles to right herself and disentangle herself from me. Is that a French accent I hear? I try to say something but my lungs are still flipping off my brain. The best I can manage is a pitiful moan-wheeze thing no human being should be able to make. My head is throbbing painfully and I'm rubbing it, hissing as I fight to focus my eyes. Those pale violet gray eyes are peering down at me, surrounded by a concerned pale face imbedded within a wavy and thick rose pink and white mane. "Oh, mon Celestia, what is he?" The question is not directed at me as her eyes raise up from me. I feel support on my shoulders and back as she helps me sit up. "Human. I'm making sure he stays out of trouble." "Is he some sort of pale monkey for the princess? I didn't know she liked exotic pets." She's now petting me like I'm a dog. "Seriously?" I manage with a squawk. "No, he isn't," growls Steel Jaw with about as much emotional support as a house cat. "He's a guest. An ugly one, but a guest none the less." "A talking monkey!" she cries, taking a step or two from me. "Is it dangerous?" She's still not addressing me. "Wait. Did you say guest?" "Yes. As a matter in fact, I'm sure you just insulted him." And he doesn't seem to mind pointing that out, sounding almost amused. Her eyes go wide, her pupils pinpricks as she looks at me like I've just grown a second head right in front of her. I'm still struggling to breathe, but I manage to spit out, "It's fine. Are you all right, miss?" I get a good look at her. She looks like your typical mare, nothing spectacular about her, maybe pretty if she wouldn't stare at me like that. One of her eyes twitches as she tries to hide her horrified expression. I really can't tell how old she is, but younger than me, I would guess. She's also a unicorn and wearing a plain gray dress concealing her cutie mark. There's got to be a more gender neutral name for them. "I-I-I'm fine," she stammers, trying to smile through her fear. To Steel Jaw, she asks, "Is he dangerous?" "Seems harmless enough," admits my grumpy companion. I don't think he likes me. "He's got free run of the palace, save for the usual places nopony else is allowed. He was on his way to the kitchen for a bite to eat." "Oh," she says, relaxing a bit more, "I need to be on my way. Miss Fare is expecting me and I mustn't be late." The mare apologizes again, her eyes still a bit wild as she skirts around me and continues doing what she was doing before barreling into me. The sound of her hooves remind me of a fast walk on the verge of breaking out into a dead run. "Who was that?" I ask as I find my legs and stand up. Steel Jaw reluctantly offers me a han- er, hoof. "Some serving girl. New, I think." He shrugs, looking me over. "You don't seem broken." "I'm fine." "Good. I really don't want to explain to the princess why you were broken by a mare. Still wanting something to eat?" His expression suggests bland indifference. I'm prompted to ask, "Do you have a girlfriend?" "Married. Why?" Shaking my head, I let it go. "Never mind." We head down the stairs, my head still throbbing after the run-in with the help. The ponies down there are mostly unicorns, with a couple of earth ponies here and there. It's a busy staff, already preparing for dinner even as lunch is being served. Is it really that late in the morning already? Its a bustling kitchen, filled with those smells of fresh bread, spices, and other aromas to go with the din of twenty bodies going about their individual tasks. There's laughter in the chatter while the voice of the head chef calls out for someone to bring something. He's not hard to make out as he's constantly peering over the shoulders of his charges as they prepare ingredients for the day's meals. There are even children scampering around the legs of the adults, screaming as they play some sort of game like tag. It is a lively room, with a few complaints and grumbles thrown in just seemingly for the sake of a poor attempt at breaking the pleasant mood. There are tables arranged neatly, piled with food and bowls and plates. Vegetables are stacked neatly at each station, each pony assigned to their area working with swift ease. This kitchen is a well-oiled machine. There are brick ovens on both ends of the kitchen and a line of sinks on the far wall. The sound of running water and clinking dishes are faint in the background. Then I get noticed. All life comes to a screeching halt, accented by the crash of a plate or two to the floor. Twenty pairs of eyes are eventually staring at me. Most are curious, others seem to be wondering if I'm there to start eating ponies whole. "Um, hi," I say, waving at the room. I feel like hiding somewhere now. "Maybe I should come back later when people aren't scared of me." I hear a throat clear and the pony who had been going from station to station directs my attention. "Princess Celestia said there was an unusual guest in the palace. Please! Come in, come in! Let nopony say Chef Nom Delish was rude to a guest." He was also a unicorn, his brown coat concealed beneath a white chef's apron. His lighter brown mane was cropped short. "Back to work! I will not tolerate empty bellies because ponies would rather gawk than work!" Nom Delish was a very weird name. He beamed jovially and I noted he was a bit on the hefty side. The kitchen resumed its work, though a bit more hushed with my presence shadowing the mood. I felt like a trespasser. The head chef seemed not to give a damn I was the only creature not on four legs. Definitely the sort of guy who could make friends with anyone, it seemed. As if to echo my thoughts, he said as he came up to me, "So glad for the opportunity to meet a new face. Welcome to my kitchen!" He offered his hoof. I shook it and introduced himself as somehow he managed to grip my hand and shake vigorously. "How hungry are you?" he asks with a knowing smile. "Just a sandwich, if that's okay." I'm not a demanding guy. Maybe weirded out there are ponies everywhere but hey, I raised a changeling. I'm not really that bugged out... Bad pun. My apologies. "Of course! What of your friend?" Steel Jaw grunts, "On duty." "Bah! If you're hungry, you're in the right place. Always something for those who can't eat at regular times. Always something good for the belly. I don't let anypony leave my kitchen hungry. The princesses understand." Nom Delish maintains his grin as he motions for me to follow. I notice his flank bearing a plate over a crossed knife and fork. Steel Jaw falls in step behind me. I can swear he's growling in my wake. As the kitchen staff slowly returns to normalcy (the kids were ushered out, I notice) I find myself staring down at a lovely cucumber sandwich made with the deft skill of a young pegasus mare with a dull red coat and a white mane. Nom squints at me, pursing his lips. "You're an omnivore, aren't you?" I nod with the sandwich halfway from the plate to my mouth. "We do serve guests meat, if that's a part of their diet," he reassures me as if he knows what I'm thinking. "We get griffons and minotaurs visiting on occasion in the guest wing; dignitaries and royalty from other nations. Why, we even have a few ponies here with a taste for bacon, myself included!" "Really? I thought you guys were plant eaters." I take a bite and munch as he starts laughing good naturedly. It's a damn good sandwich. I heft it at the pegasus and grin through my chewing, careful not to show my teeth. She giggles. Steel Jaw is not amused, grunting his displeasure. I think that's his permanent state of being. "Oh, no!" he hoots, stomping a hoof as he and the pegasus share wide grins. "All the ponies here under my kitchen love food of all sorts! There are no squeamish souls around my stoves." I arch my eyebrows in surprise. I've still got a mouthful of sandwich and I don't want to talk. "I can have a menu sent to your room so you can see what my kitchen has to offer. If there's something special you want made, my staff can cook it." He beams at me with unfettered pride, winking. "You're not the only carnivore here, so don't feel left out." Before the next bite I pipe in with a nod, "I'd appreciate that. So tell me, do the princesses really raise the sun and the moon or is it symbolic?" There's a moment of silence as three sets of pony eyes stare at me. "What do you think?" ventures Nom curiously. Steel Jaw rolls his eyes. "Idiot," he mutters, thinking my little round ears can't pick up his voice. I'm really starting to think he doesn't like me. I ignore him and reply to Nom Delish, "I don't know. It's my second day here," I say with a shrug. His ears flicker as he thinks for a moment. "Head for the Diamond Wing of the palace. The first floor has several rooms dedicated to the old legends and myths. A lot of Equestrian history is on display there for the general public." My babysitter rolls his eyes. I think I hear him mutter something about foals, but I'm not sure. "I'd rather do it without the grump here," I mention, throwing a thumb Steel Jaw before taking another big bite. After a few chews and watching the flat stare he throws at me, I add, "He hasn't exactly been Mr. Friendly." "I don't want to foalsit a hairless ape," he growls, glaring at me with cold eyes. "He's supposedly the father of that...thing Princess Sparkle is stuck with day after day." I finish the sandwich, engaging in a staring contest with a talking armored horse with a horn who probably has a hundred pounds on me. Chef Nom Delish blinks, conveying shock on his features at the rude guard. Wondering if I should actually throttle Steel Jaw, I pause as I consider his name, weighing the chances I would have against a talking horse in armor. "Care to run that by me again?" I ask with obvious fake cheer. Turning to face him, I spread my feet apart and fold my arms over my chest. "You heard me. You and that...mare shouldn't be here." Neither of us has raised our voices and I'm not about to start a fight in a kitchen. Only an idiot starts a fight in a kitchen. "Thanks for the sandwich," I say to the pegasus. She's nervously watching the conversation. She smiles at the compliment. To the head chef, I thank him for his kindness, spin on a heel and head back the way I came as quietly as possible. I'm glad I don't have Chryssie's short temper. Mine is far more...complicated. I was once certified by the United States Army as insane. I served three years in the Army. I was shot twice in the same battle and got shrapnel in the left shoulder. I killed in self defense, I killed firing shots in ambushes, having been on both ends. I've seen guys die. I even shot a kid once who was trying to kill me with an assault rifle. I know how ugly war is, I've felt first hand what it can do to a man's mind. It's been years, before Chrysalis became a part of my life. I can think about it now a bit more clearly and with a more level head. The memories are still painful. Remembering the road I took to get where I am now mentally is still painful, especially when my live in girlfriend took my infant daughter and went to the arms of an old flame because she wasn't happy I could not find a job that paid enough money for the lifestyle she wanted. She sabotaged my mother's thinking of me by somehow getting her hands on classified documents in regards to my mental condition and sending them to her. It turned my mom against me when I was finally able to be coherent enough to try and fight for my kid. During that time, I was a alcoholic. I drank heavily. My depression reduced me to a shell of the confident, cocky son of a bitch that once thought he was invincible. I used to be the sort of guy you'd want watching your back in a barroom brawl. Drinking with buddies while in the Army and getting into trouble with them had been a pastime. Then I became a dad, the father of a little baby girl. I only got to see her a total of three months of her life. It was the second worst time of my life. I could never find the cowardice enough to do the one thing constantly on my mind back then. In the depths of those years, a twisted sort of miracle happened. Namely Chrysalis. I'm working my way up the stairs, thinking of the shape-shifter I devoted most of my adult life to raising, only to have Princess Celestia come and take her from me. I was allowed to come for reasons I was beginning to doubt to be completely of my own machinations. Obviously Discord had something to do with it, but what about Celestia? I haven't had a chance to meet with her in private, so I really can't get the questions swirling in my head answered. In the meantime, I have a cold rage boiling up within me. I haven't felt this angry in a very long time. Maybe it's the stress of going to another world. Maybe it's because I'm figuring out Steel Jaw to be a complete ass worthy of a beatdown. I won't even speak of the worst day of my life. Dropping subtle hints in regards to the opinion of a certain changeling who happens to be the apple of my eye should be grounds for the initiation of hostilities. I can hear the stallion behind me, silent save for his hoofsteps. Without looking back, I say loudly enough for him to hear me, "I can understand you not wanting to follow the talking monkey around. I really can." He says nothing. I come to the top of the stairs, flexing my fingers in and out of loose fists. I'm still thinking of decking him, already knowing I'll break my knuckles on his helmet. Having not decided fully if that's what I want to do, common sense struggles with my sense of crying out against the absurdity of the decision I made yesterday to come to this place. My mind is rebelling and I'm running out of reasoning to combat it. In the meantime, my head's throbbing and it's not a headache. It's as though I'm sensing something shift, for lack of a better term. It's been nagging me all morning, heck even since yesterday when I first started walking through the halls. "You don't belong here in this world," snaps Steel Jaw flatly, his eyes throwing icy daggers at me. "She shouldn't be here!" I turn to face him, my face in his, shoulders rolled forward as I have to leaned forward and bend at the waist to come down to his eye level. His head only comes to the middle of my chest, his horn poised at the base of my throat. I go down to his level. "Just what in the hell is your problem?" He sneers at me, "There's a new queen. She will not be happy when she finds out about Celestia's little secret she's hiding here." I'm completely confused by his statement. "What?" I blurt. "Chrysalis is supposed to be dead, human. Dead!" he's raising his voice at me. We lock into unforgiving stares for a moment, measuring each other. I pull away from him, staring, unblinking. Confused. "What the hell are you talking about?" I'm practically shouting, exasperated. "Are you threatening my daughter?" He catches himself, mouth slightly open before deflating his chest. "No," he says, taking a few breaths and looking away. "I am not. I'm only speaking the truth. By coming here, her life is in danger." My eyes narrow. I'm still confused. I want to punch a horse. He knows it and doesn't seemed at all bothered by the hostile look in my eyes. "Explain yourself." We're both speaking in hushed voices, still maintaining some semblance of civility. We both know it can go south at any moment. I start to realize he's looking for a fight. Maybe to get rid of me, maybe to have me sent back home. Jesus, this was not what I was expecting coming here. Stupid, naive little me thinking I could just waltz into some new world and fit right in. No, I wasn't really expecting that. It would have been nice to think such a fantasy existed, where someone could go into a new place and be welcomed, to be a part of something peaceful, soul soothing. All I ever wanted was peace within myself. By accepting the invitation, I had hoped everything would be made all right. I damned my naive thinking, having trapped myself in the belief this place was a children's show. It was clearly not. This place was completely different. For one thing, it felt all too real. Everything was flesh and blood and earth and solid. I could see it, touch it, experience everything Equestria had set before me in the short time I had been here. Equestria was nothing the show depicted itself to be. It began to dawn on me what it could only possibly be. Propoganda. "Why?" I ask, a loaded question summed up in one word. Steel Jaw snorts. "Because they deem it necessary." "Who deems it necessary?" "The princesses. The only reason I know what I know is because the Lady of the Moon selected me from her personal guard to watch you and protect you." "Lady of the Moon?" "Princess Luna," he sighs in exasperation. "Mind you learn of this realm, human and who is in charge. She is not as forgiving as the Sun, but she was asked by her sister to provide you an escort while you learn where you may and may not go." "And you hate it." "I am no foalsitter," he snaps. Okay, so it's not me he's mad at. He's mad at his boss. It still doesn't explain his attitude towards my daughter. I tell him so. "She's a changeling," he says as if that's all I need to know. "So?" "You don't get it, do you?" he yells, his voice rising. A sneer begins to form. "That...that...thing is that bitch queen Chrysalis! I've seen her true form! She hides it at the command of my two Mistresses, but I know! I've seen!" Steel Jaw spat. "I don't know the sorcery behind her youthful appearance, but that is the same monster who invaded us." This was one of the first stark differences I felt from what my daughter grew up watching and what was reality. It was painfully obvious what we knew on Earth was seriously watered down. That lightbulb flickered in my dim mind like a blinding flash. Cursing my stupidity, I tear away from the steely stare of the stallion. Even so, I level a finger at him. "You don't talk about my daughter like that." "What are you two arguing about?" asks a feminine voice off to my right. I look and find the same mare I had crashed into earlier staring between us, her head tilted cutely to one side while wearing a worried frown. "There's a changeling in the palace? Since when?" Steel Jaw catches himself and sets his lips to an unhappy straight line as he turns is ire into a harsh glare at her direction. "This is of no concern to a maid! On your way!" "I'm not a maid," she replies impudently, offering a smile. "But even a maid can see you are being unkind to a guest of the princesses. Perhaps I should go and tell them Equestrian hospitality is only extended to those who have hooves?" How can she say that in such a kind tone? Steel Jaw tries to match her with his own disdain, but her gentleness breaks his steel. "Who are you?" he demands uncertainly. She ignores his question, pressing, "You know mention of that word has been expressly forbidden beneath this roof. The name is also forbidden, yet you speak it. The House of the Sun and the Moon and their word is absolute. Why have you broken the decree? Are you not oath-bound to follow the words of the Sisters?" To me she shifts her focus, Steel Jaw seemingly forgotten as he's sputtering in her wake. "It has come to my attention who you are, gentle ape creature. I wish to apologize for my earlier reaction as I was not expecting to run into you." She's a little taller than the other mares I've seen around the palace, her withers almost reaching my hip. Her frame doesn't match the roundness of the other mares, reminding more of my girl's shape. There is still a tinge of fear in her eyes. "It's all right," I say, calming down from butting heads with the idiot in armor. I block him out of my mind and focus on the friendly face. I introduce myself. "I am Fleur de Lis," she says with a demure smile. "I have been asked by Princess Celestia to act as your guide while you acclimate yourself to Canterlot." Okay, so she's named after a flower. I think. It sounds pretty. She's definitely nicer than the present company I'm keeping. She's also scared to death talking to me. How do I know? Her knees are knocking together. But she's very brave and facing me, a creature she probably thinks is some sort of monster. "I am to escort him," complains Steel Jaw. "You are a clumsy oaf with no manners!" she shot back at him. "You place your own selfish desires before the will of our princesses! We all know what happened in the past, but that is where it should remain. You are not the only one to have lost someone dear." He starts to protest, but she stamps a delicate hoof down firmly. "No! You are a fool allowing your emotions to cloud your judgement. This is not the way of your training. Begone with your tainted self and seek out the forgiveness of the Lady of the Moon to whom you pledged yourself!" My babysitter stares at her in rage before letting out an exasperated whinny and departing with powerful stomps of his hooves upon the polished stone floor. I get the feeling it isn't over between the two of us. Not by a long shot. "So tell me," Fleur asks after dismissing the guard from her thoughts, "where was it you wished to go?" I pause about three breaths as I try to remember where it was Nom Delish had suggested. "Um, something called the Diamond Room, I think? There's more to Equestria than I thought." "Indeed," she answers, pondering my words, "you mean the Diamond Wing. It is a good place to start if you wish to see our version of what we in Equestria consider the truth." I note wryly, "That's an odd way to put it." "It's what we know, but not necessarily correct. Come, we can chat while we walk. The palace is large and it will take us some minutes to get to our destination." She leads on, tossing her head slightly to fix a corner of her eye on me. "Follow me and I shall tell you of your beautiful guide so long as you tell me a bit of yourself, yes?" "Fair enough, " I agree, already finding her company more enjoyable that with Mr. Grumpy. "What would you like to know?" "Are you truly the one who raised her?" "Yeah. I still don't get the name she goes by in here. Midnight Emerald?" Chryssie spent the evening last night explaining the name she had to go by, telling me she could feel them staring at her despite the form she was told to take. Given how similar to her natural form it is, I'm not really shocked. However, it was insisted ponies get used to her dark form. Surprising I shouldn't mention it until now. Pushing the thoughts ponies do not forget past sins cast upon them is difficult, but it had always been there, lurking like a stranger you can't quite see in the shadows. I don't know squat about this place. So far, Friendship is Magic has been a whitewashed watered down thing. Oh, its beautiful to look at, but the society is far more complex than simple lessons to learn at the end of the show. "Give them time," Fleur assures me as I'm now along side her as we go at a leisurely pace. "Midnight Emerald is a lovely name for her. She has a temper and angers easily, no doubt due to stress of being so far from home. She takes a form like her true form because there will come a time when our species must coexist for the sake of a peaceful existence. She is remarkable, intelligent, and full of potential." "So why did you tell off Steel?" She makes a sour face. "He is not the sort you should have guiding you. His wounds from the past haunt him. He is a good soldier and a loyal son of Equestria, but he, like so many others fear the unknown. He fears the monsters under the bed and in the closet. It is understandable. The passage of time has not been long enough to heal for some." I grunt, nodding, "I know how that feels." We continue walking, warming up to each other to the point where she's at least not suffering from a bad case of rubbery knees. She asks a few questions about my world and of myself. Some I answer easily, others I deflect. Fleur probes, I parry and find I am very poor at it. She knows and shifts the subject when she feels her questions hit a little too close to home. She is what I would guess in their world to be a sorceress. I barely remember her from the show, but I'm beginning to sense all the characters have some sort of significance in Equestria, their importance as of yet elusive to my tiny brain. From what I understand, my lovely guide is over a couple of hundred years old and currently has one of nobles as her favorite, whatever that means. His name is Fancy Pants. I'm not going to get into that. The name choices are weird and I understand not a damn thing about it. "You are a warrior, then?" she asks when I touch a bit on my army days. "Was," I counter with a smile, "after getting enough scars, I decided I didn't want to do it anymore and became a father." I pull up my left sleeve and let her get a glimpse of my scar on my shoulder. "War sucks and leaves little reminders for those lucky enough to survive it." She looks away from it as we turn through a pair of doors. The halls are gone and we're now passing through rooms of various sizes. Ponies are everywhere, cleaning and dusting. They chat in hushed tones and become fearful when they see me. "Don't show your teeth," Fleur reminds me gently. "You have predatory teeth. They'll think you intend to eat them." Her giggle leads me to wonder if I should take her seriously or not. "So, what do you do around here?" I ask. Fleur smiles. "I serve as confidant to Princess Celestia, having come from Prance years ago originally as an ambassador. In time, she and I became friends and I have since served as an opinion for her ears should she request it. In the meantime, I continue to work in the capacity as an ambassador, though a replacement has been in place for some time. There is no pressing need for me to return home and I find Equestria suits my heart perfectly. Here, I have access to some of the richest tomes of knowledge while I continue to perfect my skills at magic. I am being modest when I tell you I am one of the most powerful magic users in the kingdom. I even teach your daughter when Twilight Sparkle has other things she needs to attend to. I try not to step over her hooves and her attention to detail is perfect for Midnight Emerald." I nod, finding a lot of impossible in what she says with my logical mind. It argues with what I've seen in Chrysalis. "I'm willing to keep an open mind. From what I understand, this is a place where impossible is possible and dreams do come true." She appraises me. "I expected more resistance, mon ami." "Chry - Midnight Emerald," I remind her. "Of course," she giggles, "I am aware. For all those years, do you think Lord Discord to be the only one who kept eyes upon you and your charge?" I shrug, change the topic. "So why such a plain dress?" "A mare is not defined by the finery she wears, but in the manner in which she carries herself," she answers easily as we enter a very large room. I notice it is darker than the others, the curtains having been drawn closed. Fleur de Lis presses into it, turning her body to one side slightly as her horn glows with a pale pinkish hue. "Ah, we are here!" The curtains assume the same odd glow as her horn. It's very much like when Chrysalis uses her magic. So they have their own personal magic aura, or something. Cool. The curtains slide open and the room is bathed in sunlight blinding. Around me is a room filled with odd artifacts and weapons, baubles I can't begin to name and other odds and ends arranged neatly, each with a small plaque bearing words. They are arranged neatly, orderly, perhaps chronologically. There are great paintings upon the wall, some depicting unicorns, others with pegasi, and still others with regular ponies. Some are battle scenes, others dark and forbidding. Yet others are full of life and joy. The room stretches a great distance, the walls gilded with gold. The ceiling is a vast mural of light and dark, two familiar forms circling around each other; one the Moon, the other the Sun. In between them light and dark blend perfectly and in balance, an eternal dance between night and day. There is a great hearth, swept clean so as no soot mars the stone within. Before the hearth are a pair of low set lounges, akin to the one in my room. A table is nestled between them. But there is one obvious thing in the room drawing my attention to her like a magnet. Standing before me is Princess Celestia herself. "Thank you, Fleur," she says to the mare next to me, "you saved him from enduring more of the guard's misplaced anger." "It was nothing," defers my new friend with a wink at me. "He's a most pleasant conversation, despite his rough personality. I find him refreshing and not so stuffy." Why am I blushing? Celestia chuckles, turning her attention to me. "I apologize for not meeting you last night. I thought you would enjoy spending time with your daughter, rather than be in a possibly uncomfortable position of putting up with strangers for dinner. I certainly apologize for Luna's choice of an escort, but I imagine there is a purpose to this. She does not act in ways one would deem conventional and I suspect the lesson was as much for him as it was for you." She tilts her head towards me, her gaze steady, eyes ancient and powerful. It's like staring into a bright abyss, those magenta pools owlish and calculating. It's one thing to be told a being is over a thousand years old. It's a whole different animal when you can see it in her eyes and feel it emanating from her presence. I shiver. "I shall take my leave," announced Fleur with a polite curtsey to Celestia, then myself. "Be gentle with him. He is very much a child in a new world." Mischief dances in her eyes as she trots off. The Princess of the Sun laughs after her friend, "No promises!" To me she holds up a hoof and gestures to a pile of cushions. "Please have a seat. There is much you might wish to know and I shall be more than happy to get you started with the basics. My sister is overwatching the court at the moment and I have an hour or two to spare." I sit down, a bit numb just feeling the presence of Celestia. "Why do I feel you without touching you? You weren't like this at my home a month ago." I'm shivering as it feels as though her very existence should break me to pieces. I don't even know how I'm able to talk. "This is my realm," she says to me as she lays down across from where I sit cross legged. "My home. You feel my power because I wish you to understand more, perhaps than what you have been led to believe from an example we provided to your world. You suspect we know of your world and have done so for some time." I nod mutely, awed by her. The females here seem to be really, really strong. "This is very true. We have been aware of your Earth for a very long time. I assume Luna gave you a taste with her words while you were in flight from the portal to our home?" A servant comes in bearing a silver tray with a teapot and a pair of teacups with saucers. Celestia's aura dims until it fades to nothing as she waits patiently for the tea to be served. I find a cup hovering to my hands, glowing with her magical grasp. "Thanks," I say as I take the cup. "Sugar? Cream?" I decline politely. The tray is left on a small table nearby. My introduction to Equestria's history and magic begins with watching Celestia quietly enjoy a cup of tea, encouraging me to do the same with a smile. I hate tea. Yay me.