It felt like I was in a surreal dream; more accurately, those types of dreams where you just perpetually fall in some sort of unending hole or perhaps in some skyline--for me, it was the latter.

I phased through the clouds, feeling their chilling embrace as their damp bodies doused my body a bit. For a split second, I once hesitated if this was a dream or not.

'This dream again? Quite frightening when you're suddenly plunged in one, but they're quite... mesmerizing once you get used to the sensation of falling.'

The winds scraped through me, brushing coldly against my body. My mane was wayward, fluttering waywardly through the winds. I glanced downwards, gazing upon the ground that was alarmingly inching closer and closer towards me.

I could see the myriad streetlights dotting across the sidewalks. Their lights gave a warming, eerie glow of orange among the roads; made it somewhat alluring even. The lights peering out of the windows of the houses were too many for me to bother to count. Whatever establishment I'm inbound to crash into was apparently lively, considering that almost none of the houses are rundown and that most of the structures were painted with vibrant hues and were decorated with ludicrous designs.

I closed my eyes, hoping to wake up from whatever nonsensical dream I was in.

Then I widened them in realization as I felt something fleshy pelt me, letting out a sharp squeak as it rebounded off me. It was most likely a bat--but that's the least of my problems right now!

This is not a dream! I'm actually going to splatter myself against the pavements below.

"Agh!" I cursed out as I flailed myself wildly against the torrents of air. I thrashed against the currents of air, throwing my legs all over the place. That made no difference, of course.

I struggled to flare my wings, but they wouldn't budge; they were paralyzed by shock.

With one last attempt, I finally budged my wings, broadening wide. I fanned downwards, reducing my velocity as I brushed off gust after gust as I flapped my transparent, bug-like wings.

My acceleration was braked to an extent, I could feel the drag slowing me down as I heaved my wings. Despite that, my fall still did not relent as I closed in onto the surface.

My mane was still lashing out violently in the winds. 'At this rate, I'll still end up becoming dead! It's no good. If I don't slow down fast enough, I might-'

I was given no time to think further as my thoughts were derailed as the roof of a soon-to-be demolished house inched closer at my face. I'm not sure who the culprit was, be it adrenaline, the sensation you feel just before dying, or whatnot, but it felt as if my perception of time slowed.

The ceramic tiles inched closer and closer, as if in slow-motion.

I couldn't help myself but closed my eyes and braced for the worst.

Dust and brittle specks of wood stifled my mouth as I breached into the room with a dynamic entry of flayed wood and dirt. Fortunately, I'm not yet dead.

Much to my dismay, it didn't stop there.

Before I could realize just what happened, I was driven into the flooring below the roof. Wood and stone shattering and bending, I tore a new hole into the building as my descent did not cease.

With a resounding thump, I was brought to a halt as I caught myself on a wooden floor. Sprawled on my legs, I winced as I tried to make heads or tails of where I just landed as I tried to motion my body a bit.

'Ouch.' I noticed a particularly piercing pain resounding in my back. Perhaps it was my spine being flecked with fractures, but other than that, I had no fatal injuries.

Yes, in exchange for not having any fatal wounds, I was presented by numerous severe injuries. They won't kill me, but if I don't heal, I'll be rendered effectively immobile.

I appeared to be in an ordinary house--nothing too remarkable nor too disdainful. Through the still-settling haze of dust and unlit lighting, I could discern the figures off knocked-over chairs along with some tables that were still standing. There were some windows, a bit of cracks formed upon them, with a view outside of the town.

Suddenly, I felt a stinging sensation burning itself into my eyes as a jarring light lanced into my eyes as the lightbulbs flashed white as they all turned on all of a sudden. I winced, shielding my eyes form the blinding brilliance with my hoof.

I hissed to myself as my hoof trembled with pain as I elevated it just above my eyes to protect me from the menacing rays of light, making it cast a shadow upon my face.

"Er- Hey!" I heard a shout coming from what I presume to be just in the corner of the room. Accompanying that shout came the telltale sounds of hoofsteps.

I thought grimly to myself at my current predicament. 'That's it. I'm done for.' What else could I have thought about in this situation? A pony, presumably anyways, is approaching a weakened changeling queen known as me.

Still, I refused to just resign to defeat. I tried to budge myself in defiance, gnashing against my teeth as I attempted to shrug off the pain. The outcome was expected; the pain suppressed me from even inching most of my legs. The unbearable agony numbed my limbs to what seemed to be paralysis.

Finally, my sight adjusted to the light, allowing me to get a fine look on things. A dreary shadow of a pony hung over my figure as the silhouette of a pony stood just a few steps away from me. I slipped in a swift glance across the room, taking note of the debris strewn across the stumbled furniture.

'Yup.' I sighed to myself. 'I'm gonna have my head on a platter served to Celestia just by sunrise.'

I looked at him, expecting either a disgusted scowl or a furious, malevolent frown plastered onto his visage. My thoughts became uncertain as I noticed that he neither displayed ire nor contempt at me, but simply startled, concerned eyes locked onto me.

"U-uh," he stammered sheepishly as he took a single faltering step back. "Bleeding Tartarus. You broke through two floors of my house," he glanced upwards, the moonlight reflecting of his pupils as he gawked at the massive breach that was now agape on his house, "You okay?"

"Am I okay?" I repeated, my left eyebrow raised in skepticism. I coughed, the dust irritating me to no end. "I crashed into your house, a couple of layers of it to be exact, and you ask that question?"

"Oh. Yeah." He nervously gulped. "I probably shouldn't have asked that-"

"Yes." If I could, I would've nodded. The pain still got a firm vice on me, however. "I would ask such as 'why are you in my house' in a very outraged manner."

"But if you must know, I'm not 'okay'." I squirmed around, adjusting my position. I shoved away the planks of wood and heaps of debris away from my body. "You mustn't be that dull to have thought otherwise, yes?"

"I guess the answer was obvious when you crashed into my floor like a meteorite..." His gaze was unfocused, but as soon as he realized what he just said, he turned to me and let out an unconvincing smile.

I stared at him in a bemused manner at the sight of that.

I got a fine look at him as the dust finally dissipated. To be honest, he didn't look anything quite eye-catching.

He had a lightly-shaded brown mane, nearly bordering orange, actually. His coat was nearly completely pastel white, but a barely perceptible pink tint on it made it not so. His tail was of the same color as his mane--a lush brown pigment that screamed "touch fluffy tail" just by looking at it.

"I- ah. What happened to your horn?" he extended his hood, directing it at my forehead.

"What are you going about with my horn-" Prodding at the base of my horn, I was appalled to feel only the base of it. Its length was half the size it used to be. I could only feel jagged protrusions like minuscule needles at the flat tip of it.

"Huh. Karma is quite a sly one, isn't it?" I let out a damning sigh as I said that.

As I gently brushed my fragmented horn out of both despair and panic, I took notice of his worried glance.

He idly examined me, his eyes darting at my injured, enfeebled body. I growled. "Well? What's your next move? Call whatever local Canterlot Royal Guards that are stationed here or perhaps you're going to end my life personally?"

"What?" he recoiled back, apparently astonished by my question. "I... I wouldn't do such a thing. Besides, you did nothing wrong against me-"

"Not only did I raze a good portion of your house, I am also the Changeling Queen." I stood up, albeit barely. My legs trembled in pain, forcing me to lean against a nearby counter for support. "Basically an enemy to your race, am I not?"

"Wow," he deadpanned, his eyes widened. "I thought changelings were supposed to be deceptive?" his voice had little to no bite to it. Was he actually genuinely worried about me?

"Yes." I took a feeble step forward, but that only made me stagger back to leaning on the counter as the pain lashed out at me like a serpent. "I must have forgotten or perhaps that was just the pain talking."

I winced one more, nursing a bruise on my leg with a caress of my hoof. It honestly felt as if I was burning, from inside to outside. Every part of my body was coiled in both pain and stress.

"O- oh! Right. You must be... really strained from falling all the way from Canterlot-" His eyes sparked up, as if a revelation struck him like an arrow.

"You flew all the way from Canterlot to," he paused, looking upwards into the large, gaping hole piercing through a couple of floors into his home, "Ponyville?" he asked, his head tilted to one side.

I snorted with distaste. "Really? Ponyville? You ponies couldn't think of another name other than taking the name of your race and adding 'ville' to it at the end?"

His face became twitchy as he convulsed in anxiety.

I sighed. "But to answer your question, however--yes. I flew all the way from Canterlot to here."

"But..." he arched one of his eyebrows in confusion. "I've heard about the changelings's expulsion from Canterlot some time ago--when it broad daylight." He reared at the windows, gesturing at the moon hanging high above the cerulean skies of the night. "Meaning that I've heard about that several hours earlier."

I shrugged. "I think I managed to cast a slow-down spell on myself before I fainted due to shock. I mustn't have had enough magic to entirely slow my descent. I'm lucky I woke up just in time before I got reduced to a squashed mass of dead changeling."

His eyes widened subtly as he gaped his jaw in subtle skepticism. "Really? There's a thing called a 'slow-down' spell? And you used it on yourself?"

I rolled my eyes. "There's a spell for almost anything these days." I shrugged once more. "That could probably explain why I'm feeling so, so weak right now."

"You..." he trailed off, his glance fixated seemingly on my pitiful state. He shook his head, dispelling whatever thought he had buried. "You probably need some rest."

I gave him a sharp, scrutinizing glare. "It sounds as if you're offering me to actually stay in your house for a while."

"Um... Yeah?" he answered with an unconvincing smirk. "You could stay in my bed, I guess. I can always sleep on the couch."

"I have many questions lingering in my mind right now." I sighed before continuing. "Such as why are you doing this? What is it do you think you can gain from this? Is Equestrian law this lenient that you can just house a fugitive? Also, how do you propose that I make my way to your bed when I can't even stand?"

"So..." he smirked a bit slyly as he tilted his head at me, "you don't want to stay the night here?" he asked, a bit wary of me.

"Bleeding Tartarus! Of course I want to stay here! I need to stay here!" I snapped at the snark gesture. "The moment I get out of this place, the Royal Guards will probably have me in chains just in time for dawn."

He bit his lips a bit, his teeth quaking in tension. "Well. Excuse me for conveying my sympathy for you." He let out an annoyed sigh as he turned away from me. "Just trying to be nice and all--but apparently you changelings have no concept of what that is."

'Ha! Like Tartarus I need his pity.'

Taking note of his unnerving demeanor, I asked mostly out of sarcasm, "You seem annoyed-"

"Yes." He let out a huff. "I'm just trying to be nice and you're making this unnecessarily difficult for me--no! You're making this difficult for the both of us."

Neither of our mouths moved. A state of maddening quietude accompanied by the night's ambiance of the cries of nocturnal insects and the sways of leaves filled the room.

A second passed.

Then another.

Then a full minuted passed all of a sudden.

"Can you walk?" he asked, his voice low but audible enough to be heard. His tone was rasped, but still very quiet.

"Does it..." I bit my lip, struggling to cope with one short step forward as I drooped a bit as a dulling ache made its presence known in my leg, "...look like I'm in any condition to be walking right now?"

He glanced around nervously, his head darting from corner to corner. "So... I guess I'll have to carry you upstairs?"

"Honestly? It'd be disparaging for a queen like me to accept such an offer. It would be as if I'm trivializing my title." I stared at him with a faltering wit. "But I think I'd fare a bit better on a mattress rather than on the floor."

He nodded slowly, nervousness still clasped on him. "It's not that bad accepting help, you know."

"A queen is taught to be critically independent at a young age." I leered at him, my criticism being replaced by curiosity. "And what do I owe you for that? Your help, that is."

He shook his head a bit frantically. "Nothing- nothing really. It's just that I like to help out others, I suppose."

"Even when the one who needs help is basically an enemy to your own kin?" It was becoming difficult for me to stand as the fatigue became too much to bear. Slowly, I began to slope down to the floor, succumbing to tiredness.

He strafed swiftly to my side, placing my leg over his back. I groaned a bit in pain, but I couldn't complain considering that he had no obligation to help me. "So. You're really dead set on helping me, huh?" I asked.

"Yup." With one final adjustment of position, he began to carry me towards the flight of stairs leading upstairs.

"And you're going to give it no care that if your fellow ponies find me here, you're also going down with me?" I asked as he trudged over one step of the stairs.

"Like I said," he paused to catch his breath, "I like helping out."

"If it ever comes to it," I was briefly interrupted as he stumbled a bit on the stairs, "I'll be the one to engrave that down on your epitaph."

I began to ponder, countless questions beginning to swirl around my mind. "You do know, if I successfully recover, I'll only wind up doing what I did before?"

"What?" he uttered out, his voice laced with a certain ache to it. "You're going to attempt to enslave everypony again?"

Before I could even answer, he quickly added, "I don't exactly have a dissuasion tactic in order to stop you, but I'm certain that I'll stop you from doing that."

I chuckled a bit faintly. The nerve of this stallion... quite commendable. "Ha. I'll have to wish you luck for that one. You're going to need it."

'It's probably not a good idea threatening this one pony that's helping me, but who's to blame me? I simply can't resist the urge.'

Scaling upwards a bit more, this stallion finally made it to the second floor of this half-ruined house. I could spot a few portraits crooked, presumably as a result from my inelegant landing. Some of them even fell to the ground, cracked and just laying about. The windows were somewhat harmed, only a few cracks running across their panes.

There were only two doors set just in front of the stairs that I scaled upwards through in this floor and another staircase leading to the third floor.

"So... the thing about changeling queens you just mentioned," he started talking without straying his gaze upon the flight of stairs; he's wise to look at where he steps. "They learn how to live on without help early on?"

I nodded my head, but it wasn't as if he could see me. "Yes. That was one of the reasons why I went out of my way and decided to enslave your race--well, tried to anyways."

"You didn't even ask for help?"

"And what would you think the answer might be when all of a sudden a changeling queen comes up to your kingdom's doorstep and asked 'may we drain a bit of your love from your subjects'?"

"I..." with a tremble in his step, he was briefly cut off, "I kinda get your point. Still. Wouldn't it have been better to take the chance and maybe have stopped yourself from becoming all-out evil."

Evil.

I cringe at the usage of that word as it echoes in the back of my head. I hissed at him, "Call it what you will, but I was merely trying to feed my children."

"And at the cost for the freedom of many?"

"Selfish in one way, generous in one way. It's like a dime. Two sides; head and tails. It's all about perspective," I answered, my tone stern and composed.

He didn't bother replying, well--either that or he couldn't reply. I'd say I made his tongue catch itself in a tangle.

The silence wasn't really suiting for me, so I opened my mouth to speak and shatter the listlessness.

"Say," I began to speak as he stepped forwards the door to the left, "You're doing all of this, and yet you didn't thought of telling me your name."

"Oh! Right." Flustered, he glanced to the opposite direction of my face. "My name is Depth Perception."

"Depth Perception?" I repeated, his name was curiosity-piquing; then again, all of these equine names are so convoluted. "Judging by your name, you have a penchant for vision?"

Trudging towards the door, he lowered himself a bit, panting and wheezing as he did. It almost offended me, to be honest. I'm not that heavy.

"I guess you're pretty close." With a turn of the knob, he lightly tapped against the wooden surface of the door, allowing it to swing wide open. "Ponies say I have a sixth-sense or something. They all say that I have some sort of sixth-sense."

He shook his head in bemusement as both of us entered the room. The room was, surprisingly enough, clean and wasn't in complete dissonance. The walls were of a fine wood, even in the moonlight, their glazed surface reflected an alluring sheen. There were a few shelves, a good amount of books stacked upon them--an avid reader I suppose?

The bed in the middle of the room had its sheets strewn about on the floor. Poor him; he probably jumped out of bed as soon as I made my grand entrance into this place. The luminescence of the moon pervaded into the room, many thanks to the hole in the middle of the ceiling.

Other than that, there wasn't anything that caught my attention in this modest room. There was a desk on the side of the room, a mug and a lampshade readied on its surface.

He approached the bed, my body still being carried by him. "I can apparently find things that were lost with ease, but I'm pretty sure that it's just dumb luck."

"What's the saying again?" I pondered to myself. "Fortune favors the bold?"

"As you can probably tell from my personality, I'm not really that daring." With a dull sigh, he plopped me down onto the bed. I bounced a bit onto the bed's surprisingly soft, plumped surface.

"So, um. Chrysalis, right?" he asked me, to which I widen in pleasant surprise.

"Hm. Word spread that fast, I see?"

He nodded swiftly. "How could it not? You and your changelings rendered Celestia herself unconscious."

"Ha!" I laughed a bit harshly at that. "That cake-eating landwhale couldn't have possibly hoped to best me, and for clarification's sake, I bested her alone with no help from my subordinates," I boasted, a smug grin decorating my face.

"Uh-huh." He furrowed his brows at me, a tad bit disconcerted. "That's because you wicked away most of the ponies' love beforehand, right?"

"Ah-ah!" I clapped my hooves together, instantly regretting it as the pain resonated across my legs. "Ouch. Anyways--yes. You're correct on that. Still, I reserve the right on saying that I bested her on a one-on-one duel."

"Didn't you had help in the form of a swarm of changelings when you beat her?"

I jerked backwards, a bit taken aback. "What? The swarm of changelings came after I defeated her."

"That's not what the newspaper said." He shrugged.

"Whatever news you're reading," a sudden migraine caused my words to wane as I clutched my forehead gently, "...are all favoring Celestia then."

He nodded in agreement, much to my surprise. "History is written by the victors, or so it is said."

"But of course," I bowed my head courtly. "Though, if I was the victor, I would've written more than just history."

He darted towards me. He took my hoof with his, holding it closely to himself. The brass of him! He stared intensely into my eyes as he spoke, "Do you really think it's worth it being this way?"

"I'm like this because of my children--my dear changelings."

He placed himself closer to where I laid, causing me to arch my eyebrow. My hoof was still held firmly by his hoof on his chest. "Ahem."

"Huh- oh!" As if just realizing now that he was getting intimately close with me, he jumped a bit backwards, his heartbeat racing. "Sorry. Sorry. Like I said, I'm not that daring."

Suddenly, a deviant idea sparked in the back of my mind. "Aw. Don't say that," I cooed. "You're pretty daring for sheltering a changeling queen like me."

His face blushed a deep red as something sparked among the wind around him--a bit of love. Nay. It wasn't exactly love. Much accurately, it was a bit of infatuation. Not exactly as potent as love, but still a bit renewing to my tastes.

With a subtle swish of my body, I drained away the emotion from his oblivious body without even a single questioning glance from him. The essence of it was absorbed into my body, rejuvenating me.

The bones clicked back into place, my cuts were mending, and the sweetened taste of it dulled the pain like no other analgesic could. This was the perk of a changeling queen. An exceedingly efficient love-conversion mechanism.

I'll need much more than that small dosage, however.

"Ack." He stumbled a bit back. "It's- it's really nothing! I swear."

"Shush now. Come here. Get a little closer," I gestured the now vacant side of the bed with my hoof as I made my way to the other half of the bed.

"N- no," he refused, but the fidgeting of his hooves and the intense blush on his face was saying otherwise. "I can't really." He gestured against my advances with a few frenzied waves of both his hooves.

Why not?"

"I- uh." He pointed towards my lacerations and bruises riddling across my leg. "I need to patch you up. Right. Could you just wait-"

"You'd be surprised at how impeccable changeling healing is once we get exposed to a bit of," I paused, lacing the last word with a sultry tone, "love."

"Love?" he repeated. He stumbled a bit back, a toothy grin forming on his face that he failed to conceal. Shaking his head, he regained his composure and went back with a flustered scowl. "I- uh. Don't know how to give it to you."

I nearly chuckled at that.

"Why don't you just lay beside me and let me sip off that emotion your loved ones have given you," I craned my neck forwards at him and whispered, "And after I recover, we can make some love instead."

He began stammering nonstop, his sentences becoming a menagerie of indecipherable sounds. Finally, he regained a slight bit of his senses as he shook his head vigorously.

"Wait! I- I can't do that-"

I rolled my eyes as my patience effectively ran dry. "Oh for- Just get on the bed with me, alright?!" I exclaimed, making one final gesture to the empty space on the bed.

He gulped down nervously, his stupor making him appear as if he was about to faint. "F- fine." Admitting defeat, he climbed upon the bed, placing himself just at the edge of the bed in an attempt to distance himself away from me.

Seeing this, a predatory grin etched itself on my mouth as I embraced him, curling my legs upon his body. I felt his warmth as he squirmed uncomfortably in my constriction.

"Ah," I purred, the emanation of a miscellany of romance-related thoughts from his body teased my appetite. "Your emotions are quite wayward right now. That's a good thing for me, though. I'm draining away your lovely feelings--and I must say it's both tasty and of high quality."

"There aren't... any side-effects, are there?"

"Nope. Well, that is if I restrain myself. You'd be an emotionless being if I were to go all-out."

He fidgeted even more, a sense of panic emanating from his panicking, provoking a devilish a chuckle from my mirth. "Don't worry. I don't plan on doing that to my only source of love," I reassured.

He ceased his wriggling, allowing me to advance on top of him. His face reddened even further; I could basically feel the heat from his face from here. He struggled once more, but I kept him pinned down.

I lowered myself, hanging my head just above his ear. "I'm feeling refreshed. I can hardly feel the pain now. Why don't we try it now?" I suggested in a ghastly whisper.

"Try what?" he stammered out.

"Making love," I bluntly answered. "The key to anything the changeling does, be it regeneration--which I need right now, fuel for magic, and a myriad of other things is usually powered by a catalyst known as erotic love."

"What?" he deadpanned with a disconcerted expression with a blush running across his cheeks.

"You've helped me this far," I winked at him, attempting to pique his lust, "Why not help me some more?"

His head swooshed from left to right, desperate to locate an escape route; there was none, however. "I can't- No way that- I just cannot-" he covered his face with both his hooves. "I've never done this before!" he admitted in a squeamish cry.

I struggled hard not to chuckle at the adorable display. Best I could do was press my hoof against my mouth to muffle the hysterical laughter.

Finally, I peered into his eyes, my face just inches away from his. "Just when I thought you couldn't become much more delicate, you just had to blurt that out, didn't you?"

He yelped out, "I regret this now!" Another round of flailing, he tried to shake me off, but ended up in failure. "I regret this greatly!"

As he squirmed further, I constricted him tighter in my peppery caress. "Ah-ah. It's been a while since I had fun as well," I locked my gaze at him, "You're going to let me enjoy this."