//------------------------------//
// Chapter Two: Violet Wind 
// Story: The "Tourist" 
// by Monochrome-1 
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“Thanks for the invite,” Zephyr muttered as he began to make his way through to take in the sight of what was inside. 
The house, or at least what he saw of the inner room itself seemed to be neat and organized. With a simple living room table set up for a meal that may have happened hours before, a smaller coffee table next to a sofa that was strewn with writing equipment, a heavy flask, a flag of The Isles pinned to the wall next to a few paintings, and a glass cabinet that had within it: seashells, pinned insects, and more than a few shards from various weapons lined its inside. It was an ordinary place that was one that  he knew would feel right at home back in Equestria. With the only difference being the cabinet and the flag. 
However, looking at the back and catching a glance at a mirror that had a reflection of the kitchen, Zephyr could tell that the entire kitchen was overfilled with dirty dishes: plates, bowls, and plenty of mugs that were once filled with coffee and tea. It reminded Zephyr of the one time he had worked as a barista at a coffee shop for a week before he was fired.
“You’ve been working late?” he said as his vision lingered on the mirror before turning back to her, and from then he noticed the heavy eyebags that she had. Something that he knew could only result in days if not weeks of sleepless nights burning the candles at both ends.
“A little bit,” Ms. Coffin answered with a sad smile before yawning again and closing the door behind Zephyr. “I’ve just been spending the last week organizing papers, shuffling numbers, and the usual that a small business owner would be expected to do.”
“Anyway,” she continued , rubbing her eyes in an attempt to dispel her fatigue. “Mind if I ask where you're from? I’ve been helping a lot of people lately and I tend to forget little details like that.’
“‘Equestria,” Zephyr said. “I’m from Equestria.” 
“Equestria?” Ms. Coffin said somewhat surprised. “That’s new. I don’t think I've been able to hear anyone coming back from there in a while since the war kicked into full gear. Are you sure my group helped you in the past in getting here?”
“No not really,” Zephyr confessed as he made his way to the sofa and put his suitcase down before sitting down. “I managed to get my way out of there on my own. And I heard about your group from one of the people that you helped in the past who is sailing on a ship right now. They said that you might be able to help me for a bit while I stay here for a few days.” 
“Oh,” Ms. Coffin said as she took a seat on the opposite end of the sofa. “Well what can I help you with?”
Zephyr thought about it for a bit. What could she help her with? Money? He didn’t need any. Work? Same thing as before, you worked for money, and he had plenty enough on him right now from his work as a hair cutter. It didn’t pay much, but if you didn’t eat a lot to begin with, you didn’t pay rent,  and if you stopped caring about the way you looked then you could save tons of cash easily. Stuffed inside his suitcase, his wallet, and in a pocket in the inside of his jacket was more than enough cash that he could live comfortably wherever he wanted for at least half a year. 
So then what? What did he need help with to be honest? Well, directions could help and maybe someone that would be willing to ferry him across. That was a good start at least. If not, then information could always help, such as who or what the woman’s group was all about in-depth. He knew it wouldn't do anything for him, but it could pass the time for a while, that was something at least. 
“Well,” Zephyr said after he thought about it for a minute or two before nodding to himself. “Honestly not much, just some directions to a few places that are around this place or a tourist guide or something. That and if you would be willing to answer a few questions.”
“Well go ahead,” she said, taking another moment to yawn before reaching across the table and grabbing the flask and taking a sip. “It’ll at least distract me from my work for a bit.”
“Alright so first questions first, mind explaining what your doing?” Zephyr started off as he waved a finger at the table in front of them. “I’ve heard of refugee organizations, but from what I've heard, what you people are doing is something entirely different. What’s going on with that?   
“Ah right that,” she said, scratching at the back of her neck as if she had a crick in it. “Probably should have expected that question to be honest with what you’ve told me so far.”
“So,” she said drawling on the word for a few seconds as she took a moment to collect the information that she would be saying. “You’ve heard of smugglers right?”
“I have,” Zephyr’ agreed with a nod.
“So in a way that’s basically kind of what we’re doing,” she said with a shrug. “We take people who are in places that are facing war, famine, racial or societal persecution, societal disruption, and bring them here. If your wondering why? Well after The Scaled Monarch took rule she set up a policy of open immigration with little to no questions asked. Anyone that can make their way here and prove that they aren’t a total bastard is welcome here.”
“The only problem with that is the countries in which those people are coming from stopping them from doing so,” she continued. “Because as it turns out if your trying to leave a fascist dystopia without getting caught so you and your family aren’t executed because you look the wrong way, that requires a lot of money. Especially if you want it to go without a hitch and to keep that going for a while.” 
“I see,” Zephyr said with a nod. “And any idea how your fundraising this?”
“Contributions mostly,” Ms. Coffin said. “Sometimes it’s from someone who pissed off the wrong people and they are willing to pay out the nose so they can stay alive.  But otherwise it's just me, the group I'm with, and the people who I've helped slowly pull in funds from where we can. A little bit here, a little bit there, and before you know it in a week or two you can make some magic happen.”
“Just like that?” Zephyr asked with a raised eyebrow. 
“Just like that,” she said with a smile. 
“Mhmh,” Zephyr hummed as he acknowledged the response before he tried his request. “So how did you start all of this?” 
Ms. Coffin took Zephyr’s response with a sly grin. One that had been asked the question many times before and was just as willing to answer it then as she was now. 
“I’ll ask you this instead, how do most things start when the key objective is to be kind to someone,” she asked him.
Zephyr thought about it for a bit. How do most things start like that? Reflecting on the situation of his sister, how she became a bearer, and in turn the position that she was in of being a lead researcher Zephyr went with that.
“I guess circumstances and you being the only one around to take the request?” he answered with an uneasy look. 
“Bingo,” she said with a snap of her fingers.  “I had a few friends who did some dirty deeds at the ports, word spread around that I knew them, and one night I got a letter from a dear friend of mine in the east asking if they could get out of the country they were in.” 
“So I did,” she continued without a care for the weight her words said, that the act of smuggling someone from one country to another was now as easy as breathing air. “I contacted my friends, they said they were willing to do it for some cash, and I was happy to pay for it. Two weeks later my friend arrived safe and sound in a crate, but they asked if they could do the same with their brother. I said I didn’t have the money, and that it was too risky. They hit me with a sob story and they said their brother was willing to pay. From there one thing led to another from there and here I am conducting a smuggling operation,” she finished with huff. “Didn’t see myself ending up that’s for sure. ”
“Yeah,” Zephyr said with a nod as he recalled his conversation with Greyfeather. “Nobody gets to choose where they are huh. It just happens doesn't it.” 
“It just happens, " she agreed with a nod. “If we could decide on where we are now I would be the queen of a castle, rich beyond my wildest dreams, with an army of servants waiting for my command, and the wars in this world dealt with already.” 
With an almost unanimous sigh the two deflated at the idea of no longer being shackled by the world to do what they want. With Ms. Coffin has a wistful smile on her face, but Zephyr’s smile quickly morphs into a thoughtful frown.
What would he do if he could do whatever he wanted? Would he do art? Run around the world traveling? Be famous, be powerful, be a bearer, a hero, a gardener, a writer, or what? Sure it would be nice to experience those things, but only for a day or two. He knew would get bored in time and then what? What would he do then? Would he be content just doing it forever and ever? 
He didn’t know. He didn’t know what he would be doing if he could only do one thing and stick to it. Sure he could go from place to place and from thing to thing, but that didn’t sound great either. All the while hair cutting and dressing was fun, but the idea of doing it for a career, doing it for money, and wrapping the one thing he appreciated doing around the need for cash didn’t seem great. Didn’t artists do that all the time and burn out? 
Zephyr sighed as he ruminated on it as he tried to think of something to distract him. There had to be something here, anything really to get a conversation going. But what? She already answered a part of the question of what she did, and was alarmingly fast. Maybe the details of her group? Hmm that didn’t feel right. It felt intrusive and it felt like it would get him into trouble. All the while asking about her day didn’t feel right either. He could already guess the answer from what she told him earlier. Working inside, doing repetitive work, drinking coffee, trying to stay awake, and probably going to sleep later to pass out only to do the entire thing again.
Maybe the idea if it was worth it? That could work. Zephyr knew that his sister loathed her work from time to time during her days as a bearer, so maybe that could liven up the conversation a little bit. With a nod to himself Zephyr turned over to Ms. Coffin while she daydreamed to talk again.
“Is it worth it?” he asked her. 
“Hmm?” she said slowly collecting herself as she turned her head over to Zephyr.
“Is it worth it?” he repeated again earnestly. “Like is the work that you do worth the trouble?’

There was a clear pause from Ms. Coffin as she thought about it. Her face furrowing into a thoughtful expression mixed with anxiety before she spoke.

“I guess?” she answered hesitantly as she yawned again.  “If i’m being honest to myself, in a way not really? I mean it can make you feel good at the end of the day of what your doing, and you're doing really good work. But,” she stopped for another moment to sigh. “I don’t know, I feel selfish for saying what I’m going to say next, but,” she drawled on, chewing on her lip for a moment before she continued. “It doesn't fill your wallet, it doesn't make you a lot of friends apart from those who you help, this kind of work is the one that never ends so there’s never really a chance for a break, your doing this with the knowledge that the guards you bribe to look the other way are getting filthy rich, and all the while you know you can’t save everyone you read,” she finished her. 
“What do you mean by 'read?” Zephyr asked her as he leaned in to hear better.  
“Well, I mean I can’t save everyone I read,” she clarified, holding out a hand to the letters that were on the table. “Every week I get dozens of letters from different people all across the world. Some are mothers desperate for a new life, others are orphaned children looking for a family to have, many are students or normal people wanting to run away before they are hanged or exiled to who knows where for simply being different, and there are a few that are just in bad situations that need to get out. In the end everyone needs someone to help them out before it’s too late”
“But sadly I can't, I can't save all of them,” she said as her face turned into one of despondency and resignation before giving a shrug. “I honestly can’t. I can send the orders and the cash to save a few, maybe a good chunk if we have someone willing to pay like I said earlier, but not all of them, never all of them. Even if we did have the cash I can’t strain the system more than I can. Because if I do then I won’t be able to save anymore as the system will collapse on itself.” 
She reached down and plucked one of the letters on the table and held it out to Zephyr. 
“See this one?” She said taking a minute to point out a sketch that was near the bottom before handing it off to him.  
Zephyr confirmed that he could see the sketch with a nod. On the bottom of the letter was a depiction of two men wearing heavy gear and outfits with hardened yet kind faces. Miners by Zephyr’s guess as he had seen that look before from his clientele. He couldn't read the letter due to the letter being written in a different language than Equestrian’, but making out the frantic writing on it, whatever situation that they were in was one that was dire. 
“I had to reject this one simply because I could save a political artist’s family that was going to be executed by the state for the association their deceased relative had with, non-governmental ideal,” she said with a roll of her eyes. “All they did was just criticize the government in the funny’s and it sent them straight to jail, tried in a mock jury, and executed by a firing squad in a few days.”
“Couldn't even be pleasant about it after,’ she bitterly added as she pointed at an adjacent picture that showed simply too much detail on their ensuing fate. “They somehow survived and were left to rot until they died of gangrene.  
“I…see,” Zephyr said with some hesitance, his face paleing as he quietly and quickly put the letter and the picture it had back on the table. “And that makes the work unsatisfying?”
“Oh you wouldn't believe it,” she scoffed with a tired and broken grin. “Can’t even soften the blow to myself and the others that we're doing more than half. We’re way below that, and I know it’ll only get worse as time goes on.” 
“Honestly,” she said, lounging back and having a thoughtful look as she reached over to the desk and grabbed a clipboard on it. “I’m just keeping myself going on pure inertia. And I think what’s keeping us in the game is not only the handouts that we receive, but the fact that we’re tolerated by the government and The Scaled Princess.”
“Tolerated?” Zephyr said somewhat surprised by the fact that the ruler of The Isles knew about the operation. “What do you mean by that?”
“It’s exactly what it means,” she said looking at the clipboard some more and taking a pencil that was slotted into it into her other hand.  “They tolerate what we are doing, but they aren’t going to recognize us officially or even lend us a hand. The moment we get ourselves into trouble that’s it for us. From there we’re reprimanded, jailed, our private property confiscated, and who knows what.”

From there another heavy pause entered the room with the last words of what Ms. Coffin said. The only sounds that came from the two being the scratch and rub of Ms. Coffin working on the clipboard that she held in her hands. 

Scratch. The letter from a respected teacher that worked for a small school was denied. A month later they were forcefully castrated and publicly humiliated due to how they identified themselves. Ms. Coffin continued her work.

Scratch. A veteran’s letter that was written in the hopes to find some peace from the world was denied. Shortly after being denied, she was found guilty of treason due to the impotency and cowardice they displayed in battle. She was executed by firing squad. Ms. Coffin continued her work.

Rub.  The letter coming from a doctor was accepted. They would arrive half a month later, and would help found a clinic. Ms. Coffin, unknowing of the consequences, hoped that she made the right decision and continued her work. 

Zephyr, mostly ignorant of what was happening next to him idly drummed his fingers on his thigh as he thought of something to say next while Ms. Coffin worked at the clipboard. He didn’t want to ask about the act of smuggling him to the next country. Maybe at first, but not anymore, not now, and not with what she just said. He had an idea of what would happen if he got himself into trouble. Most likely either being jailed In The Isles for the duration of the war if he was lucky or being thrown back home to die. He knew the consequences for coming here and it was one he accepted. But to give that fate to someone else, was something he wasn’t prepared for. At least not now, not right now.
Should he make his leave now? Maybe? It was pretty easy to do so. Just get up, grab his suitcase, and walk out the right front door. 
But it didn’t feel right, if he did it now it would be ruin that maybe would have ruined her day, and maybe his as well of the idea of someone risking their neck for nobody’s, having to admit, and being able to do nothing about it. There had to be something at least he could say to at least liven up the conversation, get things going, and from there to leave.
Zephyr looked around. What was there to talk about? The flag? That didn’t feel like a good option. He didn’t need more information that the relationship between Ms.Coffin's group with her government was a shaky one, and he didn’t want to talk about politics right now.
Her work? He just asked that a moment ago, no need to repeat what had already been said. 
What about the cabinet then? That was something, something interesting. It was filled with knicknacks, knickknacks that most likely had a story attached to them, stories of which could help ease the tension and weight in the room. That could work.
“So the next question I have to ask is one that isn't about your work,” Zephyr said, adjusting his position as he pointed to the cabinet. “I noticed that recently, would you mind telling me what’s that about?” 
“Hm?” Ms. Coffin said as she looked up from her work to look at what Zephyr pointed out. Once she did her face softened and brightened  up at the sight of the cabinet.  “Oh that, well that’s a cabinet of curiosities.”
“A what of what?” Zephyr blurted out in confusion at the term.
“A cabinet of curiosities,” Ms. Coffin repeated again pointing at it. “It’s just a cabinet that holds a bunch of little trinkets, doodads, and who knows what that the owner can tell stories about or just likes to show off or have for themselves in a dedicated place. It’s a bit of a trend in The Isles for those of us who don’t really want to start a hoard, but still want to keep that little itch of having a place of our own.” 
“Really?” Zephyr said. “Starting a hoard is too much of a hassle?”
“Sometimes,” she answered him,” but to be honest, storing all of my cash in a bank sounds better than a cave somewhere.” 
She took a moment to give him a smile while raising an eyebrow, “or does that not sound right to you?”
“No it does,” he said with a smile and a wave. “It honestly does. Pretty sure I would trust the bank to hold my stuff rather than a hole in the ground or my own memory.”
Taking a moment to laugh he composed himself before pointing to some of its contents. One of which he noticed was a seashell. 
“Well if they're important to you, would you mind telling me about them?” he asked her. “Would be a shame to not know what they are before I leave.”
“Sure,” she said before pointing toward a picture that held the depiction of a heavy dragon distantly standing behind a body of uniformed staff. One whose sheer size from their age caused the smaller pictures to seem like dwarves.
“That’s my uncle,” she started off, “a number of years back he decided to head to the east so that he can become a researcher.”
“Did it pan out?” Zephyr asked her.
“No, no it didn’t,” she said shaking her head, “he could barely read and write and he wanted to become a teacher?” She scoffed for a moment. “Not a chance for someone like him.”
“But,” she said holding up a finger, “he did manage to get himself some work helping some actual researchers with their projects.” 
“Like what?” he asked her. “What kind of work did he end up doing?”
“Pack animal stuff,” she answered again. “He was big, strong, and could carry an entire team and the stuff they had on his back. Once he had shown that he didn’t need to eat for months at a time and could stay awake he was invaluable to nearly every research group around.”
“I see,” he said, taking it in mind. “Sounds demeaning to be honest.”
“Maybe for others but not for him,” she said. “He enjoyed the work a lot to be honest. Because for him it was new, exciting, and he got to meet people he’d never seen before.” 
She looked at the cabinet towards a layer that had a number of seashells, letters, and small fossils before cracking a smile.
“He would send what little stuff that he was allowed to have back here,” she explained to him. “It wasn’t special or anything, but I guess at the time it meant more to me than anything else in the world.”
“Really?” Zephyr said, looking at them as another question crawled to his mind. “What work did he do?” 
 “Stuff like mandated government studies and expeditions into locales too hostile or wild to bring normal vehicles or teams for,” she answered him. “ He didn’t learn anything, nor did he ever get to name whatever he helped find, and he wasn’t paid a lot, but he helped to shed a bit of light on the world around us through his work. And for that I'm grateful for being related to him,” she said before sighing. “Especially later on when he was accused of being a coward and a rat by his family.”
“A rat?” Zephyr said quizzically. “Why would they call him a rat?”
“Because he was associating himself with gryphons, diamond dogs, pegasus's, and the many variants of humanity that exist within our world without acting like a dragon,” she answered him. “Because instead of killing them, taking what they had for their own, or whatever we’re expected to do these days, he instead worked with them. Something that was considered heresy to many people back then.
“And you would not believe the trouble that he got himself into,” she continued with a hollow laugh. “Got his hoard repossessed by the past dragonlord, disowned by his family, and cast out a number of years ago. I haven’t seen him since then.”
“And that’s why you keep his stuff?” he asked her as he looked at the cabinet and observed the photo along with the seashells and knickknacks inside. “Because of what happened to him?” 
“Partially,” she said with a shake of her head. “But what has me keeping them around is  because of what he told me the day he left.” 
“I don’t remember much of that to be honest,” she continued, “but I remember the general intent. In which he told me that we shouldn't be ashamed of helping people or associating with others without murdering them in the process. That we have the chance of being who we are to help people, to really help them out.”
“And I guess,” she said looking at them before sighing, “it keeps me going along with the inertia. What I may not be doing a lot, and I'm doing that much of a good job at it either, but I'm doing what I can to help it along, she said with a small humorless laugh. “Hopefully it’ll mean something at the end.: 
 “Well, hopefully it will mean something at the end of it all,” Zephyr said as he stood up and stretched before he looked at a nearby clock. It was well into the morning with the sun only an hour or two away. 
“I’m gonna be heading out soon,” he announced, gesturing with his thumb to the door. “Thanks for the story and the explanation. I’ll wish you the best of luck with it, but, uhh,” he erred for a second before gesturing around at the table, “before I go, is there anything, do you have anything that you think can help me find my way around this place?” 
Ms. Coffin thought about it for a moment before nodding to herself and getting up and moving towards the coffee table. Reaching over to a small stack of assorted documents stacked underneath it she  pulled out a series of small and thin paper cover books before walking over to Zephyr.
“Here,” she said, holding out the books to him. “During the early days when I was doing this stuff a few friends of mine got together to quickly publish a set of travel guides so that we can hand them out to the people we help. It didn’t work out though due to the expenses of writing it, translating it, printing it, and all of that, so all we have are these.” 
“The Equestrian one is the one with a crimson book mark,” she said idly, having the travel guide poke out of her grasp with a slide of her thumb. “Consider it yours as thanks for listening to what I had to say.” 
“Thanks for the book and your time”  he said as grabbed the book, put the book away into one of his pockets, opened the door, and waved goodbye to Ms, Coffin who did so in return.  The thought of asking her if she could help him smuggle himself out of The Isles was considered for a moment, but it was quickly discarded. Ms. Coffin had her hands full with her own troubles and he didn't want to add onto them, at least not right now. 
Eh, I’ll find a way out of here, Zephyr thought to himself as he opened the door and walked through it and into The Isles streets as the morning sun began to rise. If I manage to get here in the first place, I’ll find a way out in time.