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// Chapter 4 Naked Lunch 
// Story: My Daughter Chrysalis 
// by Scarheart 
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I'm never going to understand a thing about magic. Oh, sure, I've been exposed to Chrysalis lifting things with her mind; utensils, plates, rocks, her toys, pencil, paper, books...the list goes on and on. That's telekinesis. Child's play for unicorns and other creatures who can tap into magic. It's always fascinated me how I can tell she's manipulating things when they glow green, reacting to her focus the crooked horn. As she grew older, she became more adept at using her telekinesis, but that was the extent of her magic other than her changeling ability to shape-shift and mimic voices. I've never seen her throw a fireball. I've never seen her conjure up an illusion or make multiple copies of herself. Never once in her experimentation with this oddball power of hers was she able to do anything more than levitate objects. If she wanted to, I know she could probably pick up half the things in the house back in earth if she wanted to. She can pick up a car. Hell, I remember thinking the garage was haunted the first time I went in there to see how her progress was coming in regards to rebuilding grandpa's Mustang. Parts were floating everywhere as she was pouring over the manual as she tried to figure out what went where. It was like she was the sun and they were all her satellites, circling around her slowly and in order of importance.

Now I'm in a world where every third member of the pony population is a unicorn (I'm guessing at the dispersion of that particular tribe) and therefore capable of some form of magic, their specialization varying depending on their talent. It's confusing. I don't get it. I see it, but I don't understand it. Magic baffles, confuses, astounds, and scares the living hell out of me.

Think about it: Celestia if she wanted to could simply obliterate my internal organs with a thought. All I would have to do is, oh, maybe punch her in the face. Somehow I don't think she'd actually do that, her being an all-powerful being and all. Kindness and love seem to be presented in person exactly as depicted in her little propoganda coup. The princess claims she's not a goddess, but I know people on Earth who would worship the ground she walks on. It all goes back to the simple observation in the short time I've spent with her is she wants to be loved and respected just like anybody else. In her long lifespan, she's come to her own conclusion it is far more rewarding earning the love and trust of others than to force obedience. That's all well and good, but I've come to one resounding conclusion in accepting her invitation to come to Equestria. Don't get me wrong, I absolutely love seeing my daughter again.

This place scares the living hell out of me. Unfettered, seeming undisciplined use of magic as if it was free electricity from a boundless source. Unicorns would easily conquer a third world nation without breaking a sweat. Or maybe it's just my scarred overworked imagination? I've got hyphenated horrors lurking up there as it is. Against advanced nations, I suspect they would have a rough time of it, mostly due to the advanced technological edge. However, if they wanted to, a creature like Celestia could easily conquer most of Africa or even South America.

There. I said it; Equestria is a scary place. I'd rather be running around the dusty hell hole that's Afghanistan rather than deal with talking horses who can use a power best left to the confines of badly written fantasy novels.

And I mean that in the nicest way.

So imagine if you will how I'm feeling as I sit at a table next to Chryssie, the party I'm with consisting of an addition to my daughter a unicorn and a pair of alicorns. All three could, if they so chose light me on fire with a thought and a flair of color from their elegantly curved horns. Any of these ladies I'm dining with could, at a whim turn me into a frog, put me in a block of ice, or just make my hair fall out if they felt keen to do. Needless to say, the revelation Celestia provided for me really didn't do anything to make me feel comfortable around living, breathing, sentient weapons.

Yay me.

Lady Fleur de Lis is regarding me with interest as she delicately munches on her salad. It reminds me of a Caesar salad with clovers. I must be the new panda in the zoo to her. Admittedly, I'm not behaving the most rational way to the revelation brought to light through the gentle persuasion of a certain Princess of the Sun. I think the unicorn is reading my eyes with her own large orbs, never staring and never lingering longer than becoming uncomfortable. I think she is currently taking me apart bit by bit in her mind's eye, scrutinizing every atom of my being in the most polite and unobtrusive way possible.

It's creepy.

Twilight Sparkle, the youngest alicorn in the world and possibly capable of being a magical badass like Celestia is also looking at me, smiling as we engage in exchanging questions about our worlds. She's very smart, reminding me of Chryssie (who's throwing in helpful phrasings and proddings in our conversation) while trying very hard to contain her excitement in discovering new things. I'm the first human she's ever seen, having just recently become aware of Princess Celestia's study of Earth and Humanity.

Celestia remembers the Battle of Hastings. She watched the whole thing through that magical portal. She remembers a battle from over a thousand years ago! A winged horse with a horn flew overhead and watched the battle from its staging to the end. Apparently she had been looking for Starswirl as he was still conducting 'field research' on humans and he had invited her to watch humanity actively practice its culture of war upon each other. The way she recounted it, it might have happened just a week ago. The sadness in her eyes.

I will never forget it.

Right after she recounted from her seemingly bottomless and seemingly photographic memory, a little mare in a simple white and blue dress of the palace staff had approached Celestia, offering her apologies and whispering into the bent ear of her patient and kind princess. There was a thanks and the servant was dismissed with a smile. Celestia told me we were cordially invited to have lunch with Twilight Sparkle, Fleur de Lis, and of course my daughter Midnight Emerald. I'll admit that name sounds pretty cool. Much better than Nom Delish.

Much, much better.

So, here we are, chatting up a storm with pleasant and warm conversation, me fielding a crap ton of questions while the mares all listen intently and in turn. Twilight dominates the questions and she's not too intrusive. We're actually dining in a room normally set aside for the kitchen staff. The atmosphere is pleasant, warm, and cozy. Nom pops in frequently, flourishing his next dish in bowls, on platters, mostly fruits and vegetables and nuts. The bread is sweet and warm, the butter rich and thick. I dive into the bread with gusto, paying attention to the purple alicorn as she fiddles between what looks like a sandwich with a variety of flower petals in it. The bread is wrapped in lettuce to keep the contents from falling out.

Once we're served, Nom joins us after an insistent prompting from Celestia.

Yay! Another male to hold off female speak!

I'm sorry. That was a bit sexist. Forgive me. I'm outnumbered. I'm being pressed. There's not hope for escape. I may be hiding my panic, but it's mashing the button with the consistency of a schizophrenic.

I wonder why strange females make me feel uncomfortable when they try to get to know me? Maybe a certain ex comes to mind. She was...cruel in the end. Inhumanely cruel, I should think.

No, I mustn't think of her. Bad thoughts when I think of her. Bad memories. The worse loss of my life inevitably follows.

Obviously my mind has never been exactly stable.

"- would you consider it?" Twilight's voice breaks my train of thought. I twitch visibly, staring at her but not seeing her until I come to.

"Huh? What?"

"I think you broke his brain," Chryssie murmurs with a giggle. She's maintained her unicorn disguise at the request of Princess Celestia. Changelings make ponies scream in terror, for some reason.

I snap my head to her. "Shush, you," I croak. Turning to the deliverer of the question I only partially heard, I ask, "Could you repeat the question?" I offer an apologetic smile. What is wrong with me? The throbbing in my head isn't painful, but it's so distracting! Before I shift my attention from my daughter to the lady with the question, I see her expression show concern. I manage to force the weird sensation from my head, almost the same way I push my daughter's projected emotions from my mind. I place shaking fingers to my temple, the tips touching my skin below my hairline.

Fleur and Celestia exchange glances, Twilight soon copying them. There's concern painting their features, the lavender alicorn taking the initiative to get up from her seat and trot over to me. "Tell me what you're feeling right now," she says intently. "This is very important, Mr. Spriggs."

"Head's throbbing," I grunt apologetically, "it doesn't hurt, but it's very distracting, kind of like some sort of alarm bell."

A hoof finds its way to my forehead. Twilight holds it there for a moment, frowning. "No fever," she muses to herself, almost as if I've now become her lab rat and she's just taking notes. "Let me try something."

I pull back from her, gently taking her hoof and pulling it away. "Try what?" Her horn is glowing already. "Turn me into a newt?"

"You'll get better," promises Chrysalis innocently. I give her an annoyed look before returning my attention to Twilight.

The reference is completely lost on the others who stare blankly, offering confused but polite smiles. "No," Twilight insists, "nothing like that. I just want to check your head. Do I have your permission? It's perfectly painless and only slightly intrusive."

I flinch away from her further. "What do you mean by 'slightly intrusive'?" I don't like anyone probing into my head, be it a shrink, a doctor, or a purple pony princess packing power.

Celestia offers her soothing voice, "She only wishes to see if there is some sort of magical influence upon you. It is perfectly harmless and will not hurt you in any way. Please, Mr. Spriggs. Let her help you." It's like listening to mom and I'm six again.

Yay me.

I stubbornly take a bite of buttered bread and glare at Chrysalis as she's not even bothering hiding her revelry at my expense. Yeah, she's having a gigglefest at my expense. Such a lovely, supportive child!

"Perhaps the human feels he must become a foal and resist, non?" Fleur suggests before taking a delicate sip of her tea. Her eyes dance with amusement, again at my expense. Everyone is laughing at me. "Such a simple thing! Anypony in all of Equestria could never find better hooves to be in, mon ami."

"Daddy," Chryssie coos, sliding over to my side and leaning into me, "please don't be a dork and just do what the mare tells you." Et tu, Chrysalis? She nuzzles me, ever the concerned daughter and fully aware of my distaste for mental kooks fiddling with the mush of my mind. I can feel her worry. I sigh.

"All right."

"I'll go see how the staff's doing," mumbles Nom Delish, rising and apologizing with a nervous smile on his face. He excuses himself and trots off, mumbling something about preferring the kitchen to be on fire. Celestia smiles at him. The poor guy probably was completely out of his element and really not wanting to see the mares probe the strange talking monkey he'd just met earlier that morning.

Celestia has been mostly silent, simply sitting there, watching as she nibbles from her plate. She's been enjoying the same sort of salad everyone else has been munching on. Other than a reassuring whisper to the chef as he passed her, she has been letting Twilight run the show, her eyes unreadable despite the small smile on her muzzle. Its almost as if she knows what is going on, but prefers staying neutral in this matter. This leads me to believe she does not see what is going on in my head as dangerous. After the brief discussion we had about an hour ago, I'm still trying to wrap my head around the idea she is very much immortal and possesses a sort of strength capable of impossible things, like opening portals into different worlds.

As my attention is drawn to her, she gives me a slow wink. "My student knows what she's doing," is all she says. Her salad garners her attention and she takes another bite from a levitating fork. "She has my complete confidence.

"I hate this," I mutter with a sigh. "All right. Do whatever you're going to do. Everyone at the table seems to want me a mindless zombie."

Twilight reassures me, "I will do no such thing. I'm just looking for something." Her horn again flares up while Chrysalis leans into my ear.

"Braaaaaaains," she draws out in a throaty whisper.

"Shut up," I tell her mildly, only to earn a giggle as a reply.

Twilight fights the urge to laugh, setting herself firmly as her horn looms closer and closer to my forehead until the glowing tip touches my skin. A really weird sensation flows from it and into my head, swimming around, doing the backstroke or whatever. The throbbing in my head pops back up despite my efforts to think it down. My thinking is too weak and the sensation seems to move towards the alicorn's horn. Time becomes relative and everything pauses.

"Interesting," is all she says. "I'm just trying to link with it. Some sort of detection, I should think. But there's something else, too. I can't quite put my hoof on it. It feels familiar," she drones with her running commentary, excited and almost bubbling. "Midnight?"

"Yes?"

"Would you mind taking notes? I need to concentrate on your dad for a second."

"Not at all!"

Mind you, at this point, I can't see anything and my body won't move. Twilight must sense my growing unease and offers gently, "It's just to keep you from moving suddenly. Please trust me. There's nothing happening that's going to hurt you, Mr. Spriggs."

I just want to have a normal lunch! My stomach has forgotten the sandwich already.

"Hmm," Twilight observes, our eyes locked into each other. "Hmm!"

"Mmrph?" I respond, quirking an eyebrow.

"Don't do that," she fights a smile, "I'm trying to see something."

"What do you see?" Her eyes glitter a bit. They're actually quite pretty. Almost as pretty as my daughter's. You can't really beat harlequin eyes. They're that awesome.

She seems happy to explain what she's doing. "Well, Mr. Spriggs, what I am doing is using a detection spell to figure out if what's in your head is magically inclined. So far, I'm sensing traces of it, but nothing substantial. It's almost as if its been there for a long time."

"How's that?"

She shakes me off, maintaining contact. "Hey Number One Student, you writing this down?"

"Yep." I can hear scribbling next to me.

"To answer your question, Mr. Spriggs, not all magic is in your face and obvious. In your case, this has been with you since - and I am just hypothesizing at this point - you first bonded with Midnight Emerald. I think your link with your adopted daughter has created a sort of additional mind almost at a hive level, though nowhere near as intense."

I had been drilled to say my daughter's pseudo name in public for the safety of the public. The word Chrysalis is spoken in the same way as the Black Plague from the Middle Ages back on Earth. Quaint, isn't it?

"What does that mean?" I ask, more curious than nervous.

"I can't be sure, but you can feel her emotions, right?"

"Yeah, pretty much as long as we're within a certain range."

"Hmm," she says again. It was cute the first time. Now it's just silly to hear. "Midnight, your father has developed a sort of hidden sense. I think it's developed from the years you two have established and grown your mental bond. Its more psychological than magical, but it has absolutely fascinating possibilities!"

I can hear the catch in my daughter's voice, "Wait, are you saying I made my dad a mind reader?"

"Keep taking those notes!" Twilight tells her firmly. "This is amazing! And to answer your question; I don't know yet."

"Well," I can hear Celestia chime in amusement, "it would appear my prediction happened a bit earlier than I had believed. But she's right, Midnight. It's too soon to tell. This is a first in a very long time."

A long time since what?

"Do you think he can develop it, whatever it might be?" asks Fleur de Lis with interest.

"You're not reading my mind, are you?" I ask the alicorn probing me. I'm becoming fidgety and nervous and I'm still hungry. "I'm fine, really! I can't read minds, only my kid's emotions. I don't want any special magical thingy!"

She ignores my protests; rather she just grunts them off cutely. "If you're feeling something, what are your sensations you're experiencing? Dizziness? Flashing lights? Some strange urge to eat strange foods? Are you feeling the urge to burn anything or anything specific? Is anything coming to mind this very moment? Chrysalis, keep writing those notes!"

I wish I could see if the mares are making funny faces at me. "I don't know what it is other than it's making me feel wierd!"

"All right," the lavender alicorn goes on. "It appears to be confined in the frontal lobe, between the eyes and just above the brow line. It feels like its centered about an inch past the subject's skull. Possibly impassive." She blinks, stares into my eyes. "Can you control it?"

"Somewhat," I admit, "I can push it aside like I can push aside my daughter's thoughts. It's harder to do it that way, but I can do it to some degree." I blink at her, a word she mentioned bugging me for some reason. "Subject?"

"Just a term," she offers offhandedly. Her magic, or whatever she's doing continues to poke around in my head. It feels like a tickle worm. I really don't know what else to call it. "How often are you getting your pinging sensations?"

"How'd you know it was a pinging sensation?"

"I can feel it right now."

"Oh."

"So, how often do you get them and how many times since you've arrived in Equestria have you felt it?" Her question is professional. I can hear pen on paper. Chryssie's taking this seriously as well. Somewhere in the background, Fleur and Celestia are having a conversation. It sounds like an interesting one.

"Three, I think. Maybe four?" I try to shrug. My body fails me. "Are you holding me still with magic?"

"Mmhm."

I cross my eyes at her. She notices, blinks, backs away, shaking her head.

"Hey!" she complains, "I wasn't finished!"

I find I can move. "I don't like being restrained, Miss Sparkle," I growl irritably. "They had to restrain me in the hospital and you don't forget being strapped to your own bed because they think you're nuts."

She immediately flushes shameful crimson. "Oh, I'm so sorry!" Withdrawing further, she is suddenly staring at her plate. "I didn't know."

I reach over and pat her on the shoulder. "Don't worry about it, kid. I don't take it personally. There's a lot about me you don't know and I'm not about to talk about. It's personal. Because you didn't know, I'm not mad about it. Okay?" It sounded reasonable to me. I point at her plate. "Hey, look! Food!"

She grins, the flash of disappointment gone as she sees I'm not mad at her. Cute kid. She'll probably make some stallion a lucky guy one day.

"To know me is to find out I'm nuts," I add, taking up my lunch again.

"I can confirm that," Chrysalis sighs.

Celestia interrupts the oddball conversation with a chuckle. "So, what have you discovered, Twilight?"

She levitates the notes in front of her from my daughter, pouring over them quickly. It's only one page. Nodding with some satisfaction, she turns to her ruler. "I'm not going to jump to conclusions, but it feels something along the field of empathetic manifestations, perhaps at a low level. I'll need further study to be sure, but that's my preliminary findings. Not enough for a confirmation." The young princess turns her attention to her food at the prompting of Celestia.

"Interesting," murmurs Fleur, eyeing me as a cat might eye a mouse with no legs. I really don't know what to make of it. "Are you well, Monsieur Spriggs?" she asks.

"It was never painful, just annoying," I reply as I eyeball my soup. Yeah, the sandwich from earlier has long been forgotten by my stomach. Greedy little bastard. I reach over and scoot my bowl in front of me, discovering my soup spoon and wielding it like I'm mugging my meal. I feel a little woozy. I just said what I feel. "I am a bit woozy."

"That's probably because you just had your mind probed," Chrysalis supplies helpfully. "Had a class on just that subject last week. Had a lot to do with proper procedures and what to do in order to keep the pony of interest from being harmed by it. It's a very delicate process and few ponies can do without scrambling the brain."

I stare at her, spoonful of soup poised at my lips. "Say what?"

"Now that's not very nice, dear," Celestia chides firmly, though she is amused. To me she says, "You are probably aware you're having slightly odd thoughts since arriving here. Perhaps since this morning. Growing a bit."

I eat the spoonful of soup. "What do you mean?" I ask curiously.

"The magic is seeping into you, as I told you earlier. Your body is adjusting to it, so it's going to affect your mind a little bit."

"Are you saying I'm high?"

"No." She still wears that same gentle smile of understanding. "It's perfectly harmless and perfectly normal. I haven't said anything until now as I did not want you worrying about it as it is not harmful to you in any way, shape, or form. I'll still have you monitored for the next few days until the symptoms fade as your body adjusts."

"Until my little head thing?" I venture warily.

"Perfectly normal, my new friend," Fleur de Lis assures me, stressing friend as a means of quelling my rising fear. "I am to make sure you adjust to the atmosphere. Steel Jaw, I think would not have been so inclined to be tender in a delicate transition."

Fearing the unknown is so much fun! "Oh, God this place is going to drive me insane," I sigh in resignation. At least I try to put a sense of humor behind it. It's rewarded with a table of chuckles. I dive into my soup before it gets too cold. Maybe the statement wasn't really that funny.

The mares let me eat and the chatter between them is mostly to due with daily life and how everyone is doing. Chrysalis tells me a little about how her studies are going before fielding some questions to her schooling from Celestia; how is she doing, is she happy? Twilight then engages with me some questions about Earth, bringing up a few subjects I'm vaguely aware of and asking my own opinion. At least she's not taking notes. Nom Delish arrives with grilled salmon for me. None of the mares seem particularly disturbed I'm eating meat and I find myself enjoying wonderful flavors. Its served with freshly squeezed lemon mixed with melted butter and herbs.

At some point halfway through this casual lunch, a mare dressed like a servant came in and quietly handed a note to Princess Celestia. The monarch thanked the girl and read the note before nodding to herself and conjuring up a quill pen and paper. The pen, surrounded by that weird aura scribbles purposefully with delicate strokes, suggesting she takes enormous pride in her penmareship.

Penmareship? Ugh, that's terrible. The word, not her writing. I don't even know what her script looks like.

She finishes her letter, scrutinizes it for a moment, nods, then rolls it up. Somehow a bit of red ribbon appears around the middle along with a golden seal. Satisfied, she levitates it to the girl who curtsies and scampers off as the chef starts bringing in dessert.

"Mind if I ask what that was about?" I ask out of curiosity.

"Daddy!" Chrysalis nudges me. "Rude!" All aboard the embarrassment train! Next stop: Chryssie not talking to me for a week!

"It's quite all right," Celestia says to her. "Mr. Spriggs, that was just a matter involving my nephew Prince Blueblood. They're wedding arrangements and some details needed to be brought to my attention."

"I heard he got some mare pregnant."

Twilight Sparkle starts making strangled sounds, for some reason. Chrysalis is doing the same thing. Dad does not have very good social etiquette.

If Celestia was annoyed by my statement or my rudeness, she doesn't show it. Forgiveness for the talking pale monkey! "Well, unfortunately he finally did something he has to answer for and he's not taking it very well. I rather like the father of the mare in question and the trade between his nation and Equestria is beneficial for both our countries. In order to keep relations good for both parties, the prince must stand up for his actions and answer for them. It's an embarrassment, but nothing unreasonable to deal with." Her tone suggests I drop the subject. Obviously it's a delicate one. I comply.

"So what's the real reason you brought me to Equestria?" I ask as a slice of vanilla cake with colorful frosting is set before me. Nom grins at me.

"You'll like it," he says. The cake or the reason I'm here? I wonder.

"I'd rather have this conversation with my sister present," the princess says to me. "Tonight at dinner, I will explain everything to you. I'm sure you'll find it interesting. Please be patient until then. In the meantime, the rest of the day is yours to explore the castle with Lady Fleur de Lis."

I'm into my first bite of cake. Fluffy goodness! My mouth melts in a pool of sweet indulgence. "All right," I concede without reluctance. "The cake is good," I say to Nom, pointing at my dessert as if I've just struck gold.

"Yes," she beams, forking from her own plate. "It always is. By the way, did Luna tell you about..?" she left the sentence hanging.

"Yeah, she did."

She nibbled at her bit of cake on her fork. "She never did care for him."

"C'est la vie," comments Fleur, waving her fork with a smirk.

And here I thought it was a delicate subject. Maybe I read the suggestion wrong? It's hard to tell. I can't understand females. Especially my daughter. That might explain why we get along so well. Isn't it supposed to be the other way around? Why am I feeling light headed and giddy?

"So how are you liking Equestria so far, Mr. Spriggs?" asks Twilight.

"So far, not bad if you discount the stares after half a day," I deadpan with a smile.

She can't help but laugh. "Sorry, you are a bit different."

"Yeah, I know. I will say I love how clean the air smells. It's like I'm wandering around in a civilized national park."

"That's an odd term," notes Twilight, flicking her ears. Trying to figure out if I've just insulted or complimented her country.

"Hey dad!"

I look at Chrysalis. "Yes, pumpkin?"

"Want to see something cool?"

"I see you every day, kiddo. How much coolness can a father take?"

The table laughs as she blushes. "No, something almost as cool as me." She bats my arm with one of her hooves playfully. "Magic!"

This gets the interest from all the other mares at the table. We're almost done eating, so why not some entertainment? Maybe a visual demonstration of something other than floating silverware will settle the nerves I've suddenly developed in regards to magic in Equestria.

"All right. Is it safe?" I ask.

"...Maybe," she teases.

"Well, then, be my guest!" I reply expansively, leaning back into my chair and stretching my legs. "Just don't blow up stuff. Bad form to blow up other people's things."

"She doesn't know dark magic," Twilight assures me. "It's too early in her training to consider if she's ready for it." She's leaving out a part of her statement. "Nothing is going to explode, I hope."

Chrysalis deadpans, "Thanks for the vote of confidence."

"She's been working on her shield," Twilight goes on for everyone's benefit.

"Shield?"

"Like on Star Trek, Daddy," Chryssie tells me helpfully.

I get a mental image. Fire at Will! Will is dead! And there was great rejoicing! Why am I having these thoughts? I'm normally not so goofy about this. I think it's the air in Equestria. Was there something in the atmosphere? Didn't Celestia tell me something about magic earlier this morning? My thoughts dwell on her words as my eyes focus on Chrysalis. She's slid from her chair and is standing at the table. The salt shaker rises up from the surface, coated with her aura while her horn crackles soundlessly.

Odd thing is, the sensation in my head is rising again. I follow my instincts and look at the ceiling, frowning. Remembering Chrysalis, I snap my attention back to her. So far, she's just got the salt shaker hovering over the center of the table. Her face contorts in concentration, her lips moving over her fangs, eyes narrowing slightly. With a low grunt, her horn flares quickly like a rapid pulse. The salt shaker is encompassed by a swirling green ball. I can see through it and the salt shaker at its center. Its roughly the size of a softball. Chrysalis lets out an explosive gasp and smiles as she admires her handiwork.

No, I am not going to say 'hoofiwork'. You say it. No, go on. I'll wait. Say it! See what I mean? It sounds stupid, therefore I am not going to use that pun! Pony puns are silly.

Where was I?

"Touch it," my daughter insists, her emerald green eyes aglow with pride.

I point at the globe. "That?"

"Yes!"

"Will I lose a finger if I touch it?"

Fluer stifles a giggle. "No, it is quite harmless. It is but a petite magical shield. Vous n'avez rien craindre."

I glare at her, wondering if she just made fun of me at my expense. She simply gestures at the floating salt shaker. Why do I suddenly feel as though the fate of the world depends on me touching a floating semi-transparent ball of green?

"Don't be a baby, daddy." Chrysalis is wearing a smug grin.

I give her a look that would make the moon hide behind the sun. "All right, I'll touch it. But if I suddenly find myself missing a finger, no ice cream for a month."

More giggling. The offenders shan't be named.

Without fanfare, I simply reach out with the idea of grabbing the floating ball fully. I trust my daughter, having played the game with her many times before over the years. We just happen to have a different audience to play to. Of course, back then she was in the form of her favorite breed of dog and we had been visiting national parks of the United States. Those were great times, even if we did have our little arguments every now and then. I simply don't talk about them because they're the same issues any parent would have with their child while still falling under the category of 'normal'. As if raising a shape-shifting changeling can even be remotely considered as normal. As I'm thinking this, I'm grasping the ball. It feels like I've got my palm and fingers pressed against glass. It tingles at the touch. The ball remains stubbornly where my daughter holds it.

"Try squeezing it," suggests Twilight.

I shrug, do so. There's a slight give, but it throws back my effort as a wrestler might shrug off an opponent half his size. It feels bouncy as it rejects my attempt to squeeze. I look at my daughter, then the Fleur, shifting to Twilight, over to Celestia before going back to the green shield. So fair, I'm seeing pony faces enjoying the show. I'm completely fascinated by the ball, like a cat with a ball of yarn. I want to play with it! Now I'm on my feet, the eyes on me forgotten as I focus on this ball. That ball is coming down!

"Wise guy, eh?" I put on my best Curly (from the Three Stooges, for the uneducated) face, hands on my hips as I stare it down.

The ball does not flinch from my dangerous stare. It seems to reflect my daughter's amusement, pulsing for a moment as she titters behind a hoof.

"How long can you hold that up?" I ask her suddenly.

"The longest I've been able to go so far is six hours," she says proudly, "while taking notes and levitating objects and listening to Twilight's lessons."

"Is that good?"

"It's very impressive," Celestia replies over the rim of her teacup.

"That's pretty cool, pumpkin." I reach over and ruffle her mane. "Hey, Princess. May I ask you a question?"

"Of course."

"Where is my daughter getting her love? I mean, the way I've come to understand over the years is her need to feed off of emotions. She's fed off me since the beginning, so how has she been kept fed the past month? That's been bugging me." My smile fades as I become serious. The giddiness lingers. It still feels so wierd. I might mention it.

"How well do you understand the changeling's need to feed off of emotions?" she asks me after a moment to gather her thoughts.

I ponder her question, glancing at the child I had raised who was not of my blood, but was nestled securely in my heart. She feeding off me now. I can feel it. She knows I can feel it as the years have attuned us to each other to the point where serious arguments are had with emotions and not words. The hours where we would not speak to each other, but reason first through how we feel before one of us realizes how it went wrong and the first apology was offered. So far as I know, she's apologized more often to me than I have to her. It's never a perfect relationship, but then again, there is no such thing. As we grew our link to each other, I came to know early in her life she was feeding on me. There were days I would feel lethargic, but in time, my mind and body adjusted to her and she learned as she grew older to moderate her feedings.

She's never used her fangs on me. I wonder if she uses them for a more direct, vampiric effort. She does feed on blood like a vampire, her victims the raccoons and opossums and even a deer at one point. No, I don't want to talk about that. Maybe another time.

"I know it can leave me feeling weak if she's really hungry," I say, smiling at her. It's never been an issue between us. I know she needs to survive. "Emotions help her grow and regular food is only half of what she needs."

Chrysalis looks at me, her face impassive. I accepted who she was a long time ago and tried to teach her to respect others. There were times I thought I was a terrible father, other times I thought I was the greatest dad and the reason for the emblazoned coffee mug I left back at the house.

"I would like for her to find a nice stallion she can love and would return that love equally. I think that's what she really needs." I don't know why I said that, but suddenly my precious daughter develops a coughing fit while croaking at me. "No rush on the grandkids. I'm too young to be a grandfather. Now, how about answering my question?"

The whole room screeched to a halt. Dead silence. Even the crickets packed up and left, but remembered at the last minute to leave a tip.

"We still know so little," Celestia says, regarding me thoughtfully. "Right now, you are the premiere authority on changelings. What information we have in regards to them is patched at best. There is an ambassador, but he shows up infrequently and always sends word before hand to arrange secret meetings. The Empire does not yet know of Chrysalis' return to Equestria, which means they do not know she is now far younger than what she once was.  But the answer to your question is she gets it from me."

"Oh, I guess that makes sense...  Wait a minute!" I look at my daughter, quirking an eyebrow. "Empire?" She shrugs, mouthing at me the word 'grandkids' in the form of a question. Her eyes widen and I'm suddenly awash with her overwhelming concern for me.

"Princess?" Twilight chirps worriedly, drawing my attention to her. "I think Mr. Spriggs isn't feeling well at all."

Yep. Room spinning. Hey, look! The ceiling! There's funny glowing in front of my eyes and I'm on a firm cushion. I'm floating, spinning, and I start to feel very much afraid. I lose my mind, search for it frantically with a body that's suspended in midair. I start screaming as a wave of my own fear bursts from the spot in my head Twilight had probed just moments ago. That giddiness I felt changed so abruptly on me that now it's a waking terror. I can't see anything but strange images, my dreams manifesting before me, the horrors especially greeting me from a past I've spent years trying to forget. The screaming goes on and on. I can't hear anything other than my own voice as the horrors won't go away.

I feel hooves going around my shoulders, the side of my face into dark fur. I'm weeping like a child, begging for the dead faces in front of me to go away, for that kid accusing me, pointing at me with a bloody hole where his chest had once been. My nightmare stares at me, his small eyes burning with hellfires. I can't stop screaming and crying and flailing at the apparition. I hear my daughter soothing into my ear, her voice gentle through her own fear for me. I can feel her love as she hugs me close.

Why won't it go away?

Please, God why won't it go away?

The last thing I remember before I'm forced into a warm darkness is the voice of my child, trying to fend off my demons she cannot see.