//------------------------------// // 4. Questions // Story: The Halfling // by Scarheart //------------------------------// Edited by Magic Man Princess Celestia studied Reign Cloud closely, holding him in her hooves and giving him a very serious raspberry in the dead center of his round little belly. This was a most serious affair indeed, as it was imperative to her she discover all of his weaknesses. The foal shrieked and writhed in a fit of unending giggles; the princess was unmerciful. Again and again she darted in, leading with her muzzle as her gleeful smile spoke volumes. It had been a month since Reign Cloud came to be adopted by his biological father Shining Armor and his wife Cadence. He was a bundle of energy despite his small size and being a foal did not seem to deter him from getting into just about anything at ground level. Even his wings made it more of a challenge for the servants of the Crystal Palace to foal proof everything that was not tied down or bolted shut. The determination was made he was between six to eight months old, which caused some confusion as nopony knew exactly how long the gestation of a changeling was. Live birth from changeling mothers were unheard of as the race were egg layers. In all honesty, there was so little known about them, every discovery was presenting its own surprise. Equestrian knowledge of changelings was on par with what they knew on dragons, if that. It had to be surmised the queen had chosen to carry her nymph (“Foal,” Cadence corrected absently as the doctor tried to explain his theory) to full term and bear him live. She might have even taken a pony form during that time to cope with it, but it was only speculation. The only true answers would be gotten directly from the mother’s mouth herself. She was not exactly an interview eagerly anticipated. Given the attack on Canterlot was pushing eighteen months, coupled with the positive match of father and son, it was determined Reign was born in May. The wedding had been late June. Cadence decided to make May the fifteenth Reign Cloud’s birthday on his official records. Both parents watched with amusement as Princess Celestia played with the newest addition to the family. The grandparents would be coming in on the evening train, so the solar half of the diarchy of Equestria busied herself with having Reign all to herself. It was a poorly kept secret she absolutely adored foals, having fostered many in her innumerable years on the throne. Most of her students over the centuries had been orphans, or came from poor families. There were exceptions like Twilight Sparkle and Sunset Shimmer, coming from some of the wealthier families. Yes, Celestia found joy in the bundle before her, his giggling contagious as it left her breathless from her own laughter. She did find it odd Reign seemed more pegasus than either changeling or unicorn, as his parents were. An inquiry would have to be made into Shining Armor’s family tree. Perhaps there was a pegasus or two lurking somewhere in the branches. Maybe it was his changeling heritage disguising his true form. She had no idea. As wise as she was beautiful, Celestia had no idea exactly what power —if any— lay within the foal. Nothing stood out to her. Reign Cloud behaved and acted like any rambunctious foal and was not suited for laid-back parents by any stretch of the imagination. Once he had gotten over his shyness and some of his fears, even looking to Cadence as his surrogate, the little colt was prone to great escapes. This drove his nanny up the wall. There were curious insights to his alien heritage. For one, tiny holes seemed to be forming in all four of his legs. They seemed to be no more than shallow pits, but his changeling half suggested they would grow deeper as he grew older. He was also growing buds in his gums indicating he would have fangs like his mother. His eyes had his father’s color, but were slitted like a cat’s. Celestia felt he was attracted to positive moods, perhaps was even empathic to a degree. It was too soon to tell with his young age. As it was, Shining Armor and Cadence were doing their duties that afternoon. This gave Celestia a few hours to spend with the foal and learn what she could from him with her magic and of course simple interaction with him. They played until he was sleepy, indicated by a mighty yawn as he curled up in her folded hooves and promptly went to sleep. Now, Celestia was very ancient and very wise. She knew when somepony was watching without wanting to be noticed. It was not magic which guided her, but the common sense in her mind telling her no queen would leave her child behind without a protector to keep an eye on him. It was a subtle spell she cast as the foal slept, but nothing responded to her ping. Celestia was alone, but she trusted her instincts. A wise observer would have moved deeper into hiding if the solar princess was around. The traces were barely in the air, but she detected lingering remnants of changeling magic. However, she could not quite put her hoof on anything specific. She had an army of scholars back home pouring over the Canterlot archives, digging up anything even remotely related to the subject of changelings. A thousand years of having no contact with them was a serious jog to her memory. As it was, the emergence at the wedding was a rude reminder of why some species were best remembered and not forgotten. How did it slip by? They had once worked with the thestrals under Luna’s wings, but that was long before even her possession by the Nightmare. It was a headache. Even Luna was having a difficult time mining up what knowledge she had on changelings. It was known their kingdoms were in pockets of magic, much like the lands of the Breezies. Such kingdoms were accessible only by the races which resided within them and the entrances could be anywhere. Apparently Luna’s time as Nightmare Moon had unfortunately dumped her knowledge of changelings in favor of rants and visions of an all-night Equestria. Being blasted not once, but twice by the Elements of Harmony had an unforeseen side effect of taking some of her memories out along with the Nightmare. Luna had apologized profusely, but it was not her fault. It was simply an unfortunate turn of events and nothing more. Celestia had tea brought to her. She loved her tea. Especially with a generous slice of triple-layered chocolate cake with the cream cheese frosting. Setting Reign in his portable bassinet and summoning his nanny, she weighed her options after the mare left with the foal, bowing politely and smiling. For a moment, she thought there was something off about that nanny, but she shrugged it off with the first bite of cake. There was a lot of cake as she ruminated on the dilemma. Sip of tea. Why did the changeling queen see fit to deposit her foal at Shining Armor’s doorstep? Bite of cake. Obviously, she was being hunted, based on the stories and reports submitted officially. Sip of tea. Why Shining Armor? Why the Crystal Empire, of all places? Bite of cake. In her mind, the Crystal Heart played a huge part in the decision, as well as the presence of a changeling population completely detached from the modern political climate of the changeling social structure. Placing Reign Cloud with his father might have also served as peace of mind for the strange queen. Sip of tea. Was it also a sort of peace offering? Was the act of giving her son to the pony to whom she had controlled with her magic some sort of gesture in the directions of positive dialogue? Was she trying to apologize? Or was it something else? Bite of cake. It was far too soon to even begin speculate. If anything, only more questions cropped up from this line of thought. Sip of tea. Why would she seemingly abandon her foal she had worked so hard to bring to his father? Bite of cake. She didn’t abandon him. After stashing him in what she imagined was the safest place she could think of, the queen had turned her attention on those who had been hounding her. Which meant at some point, when she felt it was right… “She’s coming back,” she whispered, flicking an ear. It was not a pleasant prospect. There was a tiny silver bell on the tea tray at her side. She lifted it and gave it three shakes as she finished her cake. A servant appeared, bowed, and smiled expectantly at the princess. “Get me the watch commander, please,” she said with her patented motherly smile. “Tell him I want all pertinent information on the Chrysalis file within the hour.” “Yes, your Highness. Anything else?” “Please inform Princess Cadence and Prince Shining Armor of my request. I won’t be a rude guest in their home. Please make sure they are informed before the commander is. That is all, thank you.” She dismissed the servant with a wink. The stallion trotted off after offering a deep bow. Chrysalis. It was the name given to the queen as nopony had a clue as to what her name really was. Celestia thought it might be a bit insulting, as the only insect-like properties of the queen (as it was all she referred to herself as) had been her wings. The other changelings exhibited more properties of invertebrates, but she equated them as being more demonic than anything else. Were they demons? It was difficult to say. Ask any everyday pony and they might lean towards the notion of vampiric bug ponies, but for towns that stampeded at the sight of charging baby bunnies, it was hard to get them to see past their illogical fears. It was the herd mentality at its finest. “I fear I have run out of cake,” she noted sadly, eyeing the crumbs on her now empty plate. This meant the thoughts of changelings would be set aside for now. Celestia had learned a long time ago when you’re done with your cake, the subject you were thinking of while having cake was done until the next slice. It maintained her sanity, she thought as she sipped her tea. Her last thought was of a particular affidavit she had skimmed some months ago. It had stuck out in her mind and was the last thought of the subject. "I pride myself on being a pony who is open-minded and tolerant. They are two pillars of our people’s philosophy. But, I am sorry, you must forgive me for having my reservations when it comes to a species that basically wants to EAT-MY-SOUL!" Sometimes her subjects could simply be unreasonable when it came to their fears. Especially when they were uninformed of this new species to whom they were fueled by rumors and made-up facts. Celestia was working furiously to stop the ignorance from spreading, urging her top officials to bang out words of calm and offering education to the masses. Quotes from ponies thinking a changeling was going to eat their soul if they met them meant there was a lot of fear to be quelled. It was a three step process. Educate. Educate. Tolerate. Rinse and repeat. Easier said than done. The largest problems seemed to stem from the larger cities of Equestria, where the generations ingrained herd mentality had led to several unnecessary stampedes in the streets and several impromptu evacuations brought about by fear mongering. Nothing came about it other than copious amounts of property damage and a sudden spike in personal lawsuits. The Reserve Guard had to be called in to restore order and put out the fires (sometimes in the literal sense). It was one particular incident where just the simple act of a pair of teenage colts standing on top of their school roof, screaming ‘changelings!’ as a prank. It caused an entire town of three thousand ponies to thunder through a corn field in a herd panic, destroying the poor farmer’s efforts for the year. A mental image of changelings just laughing their flanks off while the ‘crazy ponies’ went running from imaginary threats sprung to Celestia’s mind. When order was restored, the total damage numbered in the tens of millions of bits across the country. Celestia decided it was time to get some answers from a changeling directly. This High Priestess Zeala to whom Cadence had mentioned a time or two in the past seemed to be the spiritual leader for the changelings in the Crystal Empire. From what her niece had explained, the tall, dark mare seemed approachable and friendly, worshipping (of all things!) love. Though not a queen, Zeala was looked up to as one by some of the changelings, mostly the newer arrivals, while the older inhabitants seemed to go to her for advice. It was naturally, given her position within what was one of the highest changeling castes. Also of note was the simple fact she was the only changeling of the Religious caste of age in all of the Crystal Empire. They were in her time a very small sect and it was proving to also be true in the present. Next to her was a separate file detailing the events of the early morning hours before sunrise of the unexpected arrival of the queen and her foal. There had been a battle. The city’s guards came across several bodies of dead changelings, though it appeared great pains had been gone through to avoid involving ponies. “Is it a private conflict?” she wondered as she leafed through the pages. Her magenta eyes skimmed expertly over the words, seeking out something, anything to help her figure out what was going on. The changelings recently uncovered here in King Sombra’s former capitol had proven to be very docile, but at the same time very secretive. There had been reports over the past several months of refugees popping up in small camps, changelings, and moving in a radiating patterns from certain points on the map. They were gone before they could be approached and questioned. Either they were hiding from settlements or hiding among them in plain sight. Neither brokered much confidence in the princess. There was evidence of conflict, but the magnitude could not yet be determined. A kingdom had fallen, to be certain, but what did that mean to the rest of the world? Were there any other nations or races affected? As of yet, there was nothing more than bafflement from her allies and her less than friendly neighbors were even more tight-lipped. Celestia was worried when the griffons closed their borders to all foreign visitors two months ago. Their ambassador in Canterlot voiced his ignorance and did his best to remain as unavailable as possible, but the princess took his silence to mean something wrong was happening. For some reason, she felt as though Reign Cloud was at the center of all this turmoil. Why? Was it because of his mixed heritage? “I’m going to need another slice of cake for this,” she mused, sipping her tea. Pages drifted along her peripheral vision, shuffling to where she could best access them with a mere glance. Quietly another servant slipped into the room. Seeing the dilemma, the empty plate was quickly replaced with one bearing an inviting new slice of heaven upon it. Celestia smiled and thanked the dutiful pony, taking a moment to chat a bit. Within the hour there was a polite knock at the door. Celestia opened the door from where she sat on her comfortable cushions. In entered a burly roan Crystal pony stallion wearing ornately burnished plate armor and his white plumed helmet dangling off his shoulder. He wore a very professional military saddlepack bearing the royal seal of the Crystal Empire. A veteran who remembered the reign of Sombra, his eyes were hard and his face was like granite. “I beg your pardon for the delay, your Highness,” he announced, tilting his head apologetically. “I was told to see Princess Cadence first to advise her of your request for the review of the Chrysalis file.” Celestia nodded. “I don’t want to step on her hooves as it is her kingdom.” “It’s appreciated, ma’am.” “Would you care for some tea?” the princess indicated the teapot with a small, graceful wave of her hoof. With perfect military bearing, he replied, “No thank you, ma’am. I’m on duty. The princess and her consort should be here soon. They’re finishing up a meeting with the council.” Celestia chuckled. “Suit yourself.” On the other side of the room, the double doors there swung in, revealing a chipper Princess Cadence and her glum husband following close behind her. The captain snapped to attention, to which Cadence waved off with a quick wave of her hoof. “At ease, captain,” she told him. To her aunt, she greeted her with a quick nuzzle before pulling back and asking, “You wanted a look at our files on the changeling queen?” “I do. There are some questions I should like to have answered,” Celestia replied. “I think we should take what we know and present it to the priestess, Zeala. May I have the file?” It was hoofed over without question. “What did you think of Reign Cloud?” Cadence asked. “That will be all, captain,” she noted to the stallion on the side. Back to her aunt, she smiled expectantly. “Isn’t he a dear?” If the captain seemed bothered by being summoned just to deliver a document, he was unfazed. The material was very sensitive and it made sense to him only the most trusted of ponies to have access to it, much less lug it around. His departure was silent and professional, leaving the two mares and a seemingly disgruntled stallion alone in the room. “Oh, he’s adorable!” gushed Celestia as she poured tea into a clean cup. She offered it to Cadence, who took it graciously. Shining Armor shook off the questioning offer. “Whatever is the matter, Shining Armor?” “The motion to inquire about funding a professional hoofball team had to be put on hold,” he groused, plopping on his rump in a chair and huffing. “It’s a referendum, for crying out loud! I’m not trying to pull teeth!” “Dear,” Cadence said, trying to stifle her grin while still managing some semblance of sympathy, “they don’t even know what hoofball is. They’re a thousand years behind, Shiny. The Equestria Games were still a bit of a shock to them. It’s going to take a generation or two to get them caught up with everypony else.” “I want my hoofball team,” he whined, looking like a colt who was told to eat his asparagus when he really just wanted his ice cream. “Not very good at thousand year old politics, I take it?” questioned Celestia with a chuckle at his expense. “Actually,” Shining said with a wry smirk, “it’s the other way around. They’ve been given representation and all of a sudden they want to dissect and question everything. They’re all like foals given a brand new toy. Good thing they got the world’s best foalsitter to watch over them while they play.” The teasing remark earned a swat to the back of his head from his wife. “See the violence inherent in the system! Help! I’m being oppressed!” he cried, laughing as she began to pummel him playfully with her hooves. Celestia sighed, clucked her tongue against her teeth, and cleared her throat. “To business, you two,” she chided them gently. “We may have a problem and I intend to make sure it does not come to fruition.” The file she had asked for was floated to Shining Armor. “I’ll assume you are aware of Chrysalis?” Shining accepted the file and opened it, leafing through the facts and details of the attack on Canterlot. It was not a very thick file to this point as it focused solely on the queen herself. “More or less. Changelings are a very closed, secretive bunch and they certainly aren’t very open about how their society works, nor about a queen’s political powers, or by Your mercy, if there’s even more than one kingdom. What information we do have comes from the population that came with the Crystal Empire when it reappeared. They’re as backwards to their modern counterparts as the Crystal ponies are to us.” “Be nice,” Cadence murmured, giving him a nudge. “They’ve done nothing but bend over backwards to catch up.” “Yes dear,” sighed Shining. To Celestia, he cleared his throat and assumed a more professional tone, “What do you suggest we do?” Celestia sipped her tea calmly. “The High Priestess Zeala. What do you make of her?” “A bit creepy, but nice enough, I suppose,” he replied honestly. “I think she knows more than she lets on, but she spends almost all of her time in her temple with her followers, either meditating or comparing theological thoughts with Father Sun Cloud or Perceptor Starcaller.” He referred to Luna’s rather militant head of the Angelic Order of the Lunar Knights, only recently reappointed into existence by the goddess herself. Luna loved her windy-sounding names for her most devout. “Did any of Luna’s children see anything?” Celestia asked, settling her gaze on Cadence. “Not with their numbers as small as they are. The cloister only houses a hooffull of them and they spend most nights in meditation and prayer,” the younger alicorn replied as she shook her head. “Other than that, nothing. If changelings don’t want to be seen, they stay hidden. This was the most blatant act of aggression I’ve seen from them since the wedding. Were you hoping to meet the High Priestess?” She perked up as she asked the question. “I would like to meet her, as your reports on her have been glowing, if nothing else.” “She creeps me out,” said Shining, barely suppressing a shudder. “She once whispered in my ear that she could still taste the queen’s pheromones on me.” Celestia blinked, giving the stallion a speculative expression. Shaking her ethereal mane, she noted, “Sounds like she marked you, Shining.” “What?” It was his turn to blink. “What do you mean, ‘marked’?” “I have no idea,” said the solar princess. “Let’s go see this priestess and ask her. She’s the one who brought it up to your attention. How long ago was this?” The stallion thought for a moment. “I’d say three or four weeks ago, shortly after Reign Cloud was brought to us.” He shot a look of concern at Cadence, who reciprocated in kind. “And she made no mention of the significance?” “None.” “Most curious.” Celestia rose from her seat. “Yes, I think she has answers we need. Perhaps not all of them, but enough to get us pointed in the right direction. Cadence?” She addressed her niece. “Might I use one of your ponies to run an errand for me?” She smiled and nodded at her aunt. “Of course.” She lifted the same bell Celestia had used earlier and rang it. It was not difficult to secure a meeting with the changeling priestess. The sun traversed in the sky towards the late afternoon point by the time they made it to the temple grounds. As they wanted to avoid a scene, Celestia donned a hooded cloak while Shining Armor and Cadence followed suit. The need for secrecy had been stressed to Father Sun Cloud and they were ushered quickly. Once inside, they were met with a very large pegasus mare in loose-fitting robes of midnight blue, open at the front to reveal a chainmail shirt beneath. She was quiet, reserved, but watched everything like a hawk with her golden eyes. Her mane was short and peppered, showing her age, but beneath her dappled coat lay honed muscles defying the ravages of time. Where Father Sun Cloud was a jovial sort, Perceptor Starcaller was a grim mare with a stony visage. Perceptor Starcaller was also a mare of very few words. She followed them from the Temple of the Sun, across the meditative gardens, past the Celestia fountain, and towards a humble single-story thatched building constructed not of crystal — as was most of the structures of the Crystal City— but of stone. Compared to the slender spires of both the Solar and Lunar temples, it seemed small and unassuming. An odd collection of symbols had been painted over the main door, each one representing an emotion. The spidery language of the changelings spoke a saying neither Cadence nor Shining Armor could understand. A hunchbacked changeling sweeping the walk leading up to the door saw them approach and stepped aside, bowing from within his silk black robes. “Guests! Do you seek High Priestess?” he asked humbly, his voice buzzing as he spoke. One eye seemed larger than the other. “We are here to see the priestess, Zeala,” Celestia told him. The misshapen changeling blinked, swiveling his head towards Father Sun Cloud, then back to Celestia. His jaw hung open as something registered in his mind there was something amiss. He recited as if from something committed to memory. “Ah, who you?” “Igor, this is one of the princesses of Equestria,” said the holy stallion gently. “She is expected. Go see us to your mistress.” “Yes, yes, Father Cloud, I go.” Igor dropped his broom and skittered inside. “Come! Come! All welcome! Nice mares welcome! Nice stallions welcome! Big gray mare welcome, even if scary!” Shining gave Starcaller a curious look. “Stepped on him,” she grunted. “Accident. Might have yelled at the poor sot.” Sun Cloud harrumphed as he went by her. “You scared the poor fellow through his next three moltings, Star.” Starcaller shrugged and grunted. They went inside and found the interior to be filled with large vases lined along the walls and filled with scrolls. The walls were painted white and were unadorned save for glowing spheres of amber providing light. The ceiling was a series of murals depicting events of importance. Changelings in gray robes gave them a passing moment of interest before going about their business. An odd thrumming sound of wings reverberated throughout the structure, rising and falling in volume, but always maintaining a steady beat. Igor led the group down a low, wide hallway. Curiously, there were no doors as they passed the darkened rooms on either side. Every few steps, he would look over his hump to see they were still coming, grin crookedly, then resume his lead. Shining thought it was very unnerving the way the changeling eyed them. He found his gaze nervously shifting to the shadows, as if expecting changelings to come leaping out at him. The stallion shivered. Cadence took note of his apprehension and leaned into him. “Are you all right?” she asked quietly. “I’m fine,” he assured her unconvincingly. “Nerves, I guess.” Oddly enough, Shining had always thought his wife would have a more negative reaction to changelings. No, she’s always been strong, stronger than others give her credit for. He knew he had married the right mare as she offered her unwavering support. He had no idea entering into a den of changelings would illicit such a reaction. They were ushered into a double wide entrance at the far end of the hall. Inside was a sprawling room rising towards the back to a massive desk of obsidian. There was red, thick carpeting on the floor and several iron stands with several candles in each corner provided the majority of the light. There were no windows, but shelves seemed to fill every inch of wall space. They groaned under the weight of books of all sizes and languages. Some were stacked on the floor. Various baubles and odds and ends were arranged neatly, some bizzare, others simply strange. At the center of the room was a globe of the world, mounted on a pedestal of beautifully worked oak. Scrolls were set about behind the desk along the wall where there were no tomes. Seated at the desk was the rising figure of a very tall and gaunt changeling, the High Priestess Zeala. Her ebony hood was back, revealing a face bearing scars over her muzzle and left brow. Part of her left mule-like ear was missing. Her twisted horn rose from the middle of her forehead like a pitted dagger, curving forward. Strands of her pale gray mane fell over her blue-green eyes, cerulean just like a certain queen’s. They glowed softly, watching them with a sharpness and attention to detail as she drank in the visions of her visitors. A pleasant smile was plastered across her muzzle and her fangs glinted dully in the light of the three candles she had on her desk. Adjusting her robes, she strode vibrantly around her desk, bowing as protocol demanded, first to Princess Celestia, to whom she greeted. “I am so very pleased to at last meet the famed goddess of the ponies,” she proclaimed, giving a curtsy and revealing the many holes in her forelegs as prevalent in all changelings. Celestia smiled, but chided, “I thank you, High Priestess, but I am not a goddess, despite what you might have heard.” The changeling merely smiled and nodded. “Igor, you may go. Take care of it, if you please. It is time.” “Yes, Priestess,” grunted the hunchback. He ignored the others as he shuffled back from whence he had come. “It?” Cadence asked curiously. “A small matter of no importance, I assure you,” replied the priestess. She indicated Sun Cloud with a hoof. “I understand you had something of urgency to discuss with me? Please, come in and be welcome. I shall have refreshments brought.” “It’s in regards to Prince Armor’s foal,” the priest said as the ceiling opened and cushions dropped to the floor by the globe. “The sitting room, I assume?” he asked politely. The tall changeling nodded, gesturing to one of the book shelves. It swung inwards silently, revealing an entrance and a room beyond it. “I like to utilize all the space I can,” she said grandly. “Efficiency is paramount, considering the lack of room until our temple is built.” Zeala’s eyes settled on Armor. “So, how is your son, Prince Consort?” “Hungry,” he replied. “Always hungry. Remember you said something a while back about the queen marking me?” “I do.” She herded her guests into the adjacent room where a simple table with benches sat. There was a small banquet of simple fare set upon it, complete with goblets of wine. It was mostly breads and cheeses of different variety, but also some peculiar looking fruits of dark, unusual colors, the kind presumably found in their homeland. “Sit where you please, it matters not.” They did so, waiting for Celestia to sit first before Cadence followed, then the two heads of the temples dedicated to the alicorn sisters. Then Shining Armor took his seat next to his wife, followed by Zeala. “I understand that cannot possibly be the only question you have for me,” she noted, helping herself to a bit of cheese. “Oh, help yourselves. I don’t think we need to be formal here.” “That’s appreciated,” replied Celestia with a chuckle. “I’d like to start with what Shining Armor spoke of. What is this marking and why would the queen in question wish to do such a thing?” She sipped from her wine and made a face of pleasant surprise when she found it delightfully sweet, yet not overbearingly so. “Ah, yes. A queen’s marking of her property is a way she can tell other mares to look elsewhere for a mate,” Zeala said as though she was giving a lecture to a class of school nymphs. She eyed the white stallion up and down suggestively. “Not surprising if she found a stallion she feels is a good match to produce strong offspring.” “I-I beg your pardon?” blurted Cadence, clutching her husband protectively. “He’s mine!” “Hear her out, my dear niece,” said Celestia, again laughing. “Chrysalis won’t be reaching out of the shadows to pluck him from you, I promise.” “I trust you,” the younger alicorn said, nuzzling her husband. “But I have faith in Shining, too. But I must know why would a pony be chosen by a changeling? That doesn’t make sense!” “No, it does not,” agreed the priestess as she swirled her goblet with her magical grasp. ”I am sorry she found your husband suitable and, his good looks aside, even I am disturbed by it. Changelings were never meant to find, well...romantic relations with other species. They were meant to feed on love from other species without being invasive about it. As you know, we need to feed on love in order to maintain our magic and to grow our young. As we feed off the magic emanating off the Crystal Heart, there is no need for us to seek out other...creatures to empower us.” “Such an interesting choice of words,” noted the Sun Princess with a hint of steel in her voice. Zeala splayed her ears and was apologetic. “I meant no offense.” “None taken,” replied Celestia, sipping her wine. “But mind what you say, if you would. We need answers and you are the only one who can provide the ones the rulers of this city need. A foal’s life could be very much at stake.” “You have nothing to fear from this queen in regards to her hatchling. The...nymph was left in your care because that is what males do in changeling society.” Zeala tore a chunk of bread from a fresh loaf and bit into it. She chewed and swallowed. “It is our way. Or rather, it was.” Her musing was more to herself as she exhaled soflty. Cadence cleared her throat as the two stallions blinked. Shining Armor was not sure how to take the statement, though he seemed torn between taking it as a compliment or an insult. He nodded at her to continue. “So you say,” she said. “But why did she bring Reign Cloud here? What is going on that had her attacked by her own kind?” The priestess she was addressing narrowed her eyes at the mention of the foal’s new name. “She bred outside the species and bore a halfling,” replied Zeala quickly, a touch of venom in her words. “He is an abomination and her own subjects rejected her. The Royal caste will not tolerate an impure line and will go to any lengths to preserve that purity. Though such a birth is exceedingly rare, even almost impossible, most changeling mothers abort the pregnancy as the chances of a live birth are even slimmer. I wasn’t there, obviously, but I can guarantee the uproar was enough as to depose her and send her running soon after giving birth.” “So, Chrysalis fled to protect her foal from other changelings,” mused Celestia. “Chrysalis?” Zeala frowned, cocking a brow. “That is not her name.” Shining Armor coughed uncomfortably. “Well, we didn’t know her name, so our intelligence community came up with one for her for our investigation. How did she know to come here? Everything in our current investigation points to her knowing you in some way.” “Prior to the night she came, I never met her before.” “But then why did she seek you out? Surely there had to be other priestesses she could have contacted.” Cadence gasped as certain pieces clicked together in her mind. “Zeala, you have no influence with the current political upheaval among the changeling kingdoms!” she exclaimed. “You’re neutral, because of the separation from other changelings.” “More or less. A changeling is never truly neutral. However, as a member of the Religious caste, I am considered above what goes on between the kings and queens of my race. As such, it is my responsibility to be a beacon to those in need, even if they commit the greatest sin a changeling can commit.” Zeala’s eyes hardened as she swept them over her gathered guests. They softened. “But what’s done is done.” “Do you think she’ll come back for him?” Celestia asked, having remained silent to dissect the conversation to this point. Zeala shook her head. “It is difficult to say. It is very possible she will attempt to regain what she has lost. More than likely, she viewed this city and its Heart as a ward against those intent in harming her offspring. She does not know the Crystal Heart is not the stalwart defender she thinks it to be. Keeping that in mind, she may also think the power of an alicorn might be enough to deter her enemies from seeking the queen’s progeny out and slaying him.” “Not nice,” muttered Starcaller. She had touched nothing on the table. “No, it is not,” agreed the dark mare. “If she survives retaking her kingdom, I imagine she will return for her offspring. From the short moment I was with her, I was able to feel the strength of the bond between her and the nymph. It is as strong as any I have seen, perhaps even more so. I can only imagine how much pain it caused her to leave the…” She cleared her throat as she evaluated her words. “Halfling.” “Do you think it’s possible she could succeed?” asked Cadance. “This...Queen Chrysalis, as you call her, well… I would have to say her chances are most slim. With all of her nobles having turned against her and other changeling monarchs no doubt seeking to take her territory as their own,” Zeala shook her head, “she is finished. It is not a matter if she dies, but when.” “I...kinda feel bad for her,” Armor piped up, turning his head to his wife for support. She nodded, sharing his sentiments. “I mean, we obviously can’t overlook her war crimes against Equestria, but regardless, it’s still monstrous for anyone to be exiled from their own kingdom simply for having a foal.” “Yes, but keep in mind, there are many changelings who see see bearing a mixed breed to also be monstrous,” said Zeala flatly before finishing her wine. “Mark my words, Prince Consort, the threat to your son is very grave. They will send changelings to kill him, with no interest in anything else in this kingdom of yours. Make protecting him your greatest priority, if you care for him. I will do what I can to warn you before hand should there be an impending attack from assassins.” “Why would you do this?” asked Celestia curiously. “You’ve given all indications you do not care for Reign Cloud. Dare I say there might even be your own hatred for him.” Zeala snorted, matching the Sun’s intense stare with a cool one of her own. “I am the High Priestess to the most powerful of emotions the changelings desire the most. My personal beliefs mean nothing when compared to the dictates of my faith. It took some deep soul-searching to see my way of thinking has proven to be no longer validated in this day and age. I wish to change and I feel the first step is to support your Reign Cloud in his chances for a long and happy life.” “Then he shall have a long, happy, and loved life,” Princess Cadence announced firmly, placing a hoof on her husband’s own. They chatted for another hour or so, discussing other concerns before those gathered decided it was time to leave the priestess to her ministrations of her faith. Zeala escorted them out, all smiles and also with a sense she had earned a bit more trust from the parents who ruled this land. She could feel it, though Celestia was oddly neutral to her. The other two heads of their respective temples were more or less the same as they were as they had gotten to know her. Neither fully trusted her, but were willing to give her the benefit of the doubt. Sometime after they had gone, she was back at her desk, going over a few proposals as well as the more recent cost estimates of her precious temple. Behind her building the foundations had already been laid out and slowly the walls were beginning to rise. The materials were more expensive than she had anticipated, but it was yet another obstacle in her path. The mare sighed, reaching into her desk. From a drawer, she produced a small vial filled with a clear liquid. She set it on the desk and stared at it, sipping at her wine as she weighed her options. There was an opportunity, a chance to make her relevant to the kingdoms which had forgotten her. The queen oh-so-quaintly nicknamed Chrysalis had provided it. Setting the estimates aside and clearing her desk until nothing but the vial was set upon it, Zeala chewed on her bottom lip, flicking her snaking tongue over her fangs as she did so. The door quietly opened and Igor shuffled into the room. There was no announcement, nothing from his end in terms of proper protocol. He simply entered. Igor whispered into her bent ear after coming around the desk, “It hatches.” Zeala blinked, slowly turning her head woodenly to look at him, her eyes flashing first with irritation, then hate, and then finally, resignation. “Do you wish to see the hatching?” he gurgled patiently. “You said to tell you if it hatches and so it is hatching and I come to tell you.” “Go to it. Wait for me.” Zeala eyed the vial, then quickly put it back from whence she pulled it. The hunchback gave no indication he heard her, but simply turned and departed the same way he had come in. She rose to her hooves, brushing the thought of Igor’s words aside for the moment as she composed herself. The priestess was rattled, but there were no eyes to see the anger in her form. She purged it, thinking instead of the contents of that clear vial. As she departed, a smile crawled across her muzzle from behind her fangs.