The "Tourist"

by Monochrome-1

Chapter Seven: A Midnight Chat

What to do, what to do, Zephyr thought to himself as he stood outside of the chancery. It it was nighttime, the guards that were stationed outside had been swapped for another set, and with his thoughts behind him after a few minutes of relaxation, Zephyr Breeze had been afflicted with the ever returning hound that he ran from and that which had him in it’s grasp now, boredom.

Idly and without much to do he watched a set of cabs pass through the outskirts of the chancery. They were a lot like the ones that he had seen back home, made from wood, often stained, and even featuring a set of gilding along with furnishings as a set of accommodations for its passengers. But from there the similarities ended as the gilding was often made from what he suspected to be an alloy of silver given its shine and the size was set to fit even dragons, at least those that weren’t elder. With one of them almost tripling his height and taking up a good section of the road. All the while the wagons were even hand-pulled, something that was a rarity back home as many were replaced by cows or oxen.

I wonder how long it’ll be before they are replaced by cars, Zephyr wondered to himself as he watched another cab pass by. Will they be as big as trucks? Tanks? Eh, who knows, a part of me does want to get into one just to see what it’s like. Dunno where I'll go though, maybe the hotel? How far is that anyway?

“Hey guard!” Zephyr said, turning back towards the guard who was half asleep at the time. “Do you know how long it takes to get to The Traveller?”

“The Traveller?” the guard asked Zephyr in Equestrian with an eyebrow. “It’ll take you a good hour or two on foot, maybe thirty if you get a wagon.”

“Do you mind if you can help me get one?” he asked the guard before making a telephone sign and recalling a rumor that he heard once in the past. “I’ve heard in the past that you people have a line to a cab company, and as i’m pretty sure you know by now I don’t speak the language here.”

“And why should I do that?” the guard replied back with a dubious expression on his face. “I’m sure you can easily find a cab for yourself if you can pay the fare.”

In response Zephyr merely pointed to his chest with a smile as his badges glinted in the night in a gesture to indicate that he was someone important. It was an obvious lie , but if it worked, everything would be fine, if it worked that is.

“I would really appreciate it if you could,” he said with a smile and hoping that his fib would work. “I along with my affiliates of course.”

“Of course… sir,” the guard said with a sigh as they saw the badges that he had, noticed the briefcase that he had in his hands, made a series of guesses as they couldn't make out the details, and motioned to the other to begin, “we’ll got on it right away.

“Thank you,” Zephyr said with a smile.

It didn't take that long for the guards to call a company and to get a wagon to Zephyr, with the added bonus of it even being paid. Led begrudgingly by the guards Zephyr had just entered it and had begun to shut the door when he heard a yell and the rush of feet from within the Chancery.

Bloody hell, Zephyr thought to himself as he watched whoever was in the distance come closer, and all the while internally debating on whether or not he could slam the door shut and yell at the driver to run. In the end he simply resigned himself to watch as the person came closer.

When the person came the first thing that Zephyr noticed was the sheer size of what they carried, a large stack of boxes and folders that was as nearly as tall as them and obscuring them from view. A feat of which was somewhat easy as the man was what Zephyr presumed to be a dwarf’s height for the average dragon, standing at only four feet and six inches tall.

When the person came closer to the wagon they merely piled into it without a word. Quickly shoving the heavy stack of stuff that they carried into one of the wagon’s seats, flashing a badge to the guard to ensure their identity, and slamming the door shut.

“Uhhh,” Zephyr said for a bit as the individual in the wagon took a moment to adjust a set of glasses that they wore before turning towards them.

When they spoke, it was with a garble of language to Zephyr, one that had a number of clicks along with a flowing cadence, and that which was only met with a confused expression from him. In response, the individual sighed and swapped from one language to another before they eventually landed on a rough dialect of Equestrian.

“Do you understand this?” the individual said to Zephyr with a look of semi-exasperation.

“Yes,” Zephyr said with a nod. “Yes, I understand what you're saying, mind telling me why you suddenly barged into the wagon that I'm in.”

“W-well I'm going to explain that,” the individual said with a bit of a shy and nervous look before pointing towards the crates and the folders that they had. “I-i need to deliver these to a set of officials who are outside of the chancery as soon as I can and I was wondering if I can take your ride for a moment.”

“And why would I want to do that?” Zephyr said, giving the individual a stare and raising an eyebrow. “I have places to be you know, people to see, and whatnot,” he answered while trying to maintain his facade of being a public official.

“B-But, I,” the individual stammered out before taking a breath before pointing to the crates with a desperate look, “look, these are really important, and I need to deliver them as soon as I can. I’m sure your important, and I know that you have places to be, but would it be okay if you just have this ride?”

Zephyr only gave a hum and a signal for the individual to wait as he thought about it. On one hand he could certainly give the individual which he assumed to be an official or a courier of some kind the wagon and he would be fine. But on the other hand if he did that would mean more time at the chancery, time that the guards could use to find out who he was, and if they did it would be game over. With him being dragged back to Equestria, imprisoned within The Isles, or worse.

And I can’t let that happen can I, he thought to himself as a shiver ran up his spine. Worse still, if I just skedaddle that might raise suspicion and an inquiry, and who knows, maybe those documents are important. Better to just play it moderate this time.

“Sure, sure,” Zephyr said with a sigh as he made himself comfortable in his seat. “But, do you mind if I stick along for the ride? We can save a bit of time if we both stay in the same wagon.”

“I-I suppose,” the official said a bit nervously as they took a moment to adjust the nearby stack that they were near. “Where will you be going?”

“A hotel called The Traveller,” Zephyr said, naming the hotel with a shrug. He didn’t plan to stick around, but naming it would help in a lie and it was far away enough that he could enjoy the ride. “And you?”

The official only gave a nervous nod and a quick shuffle towards confirming that they were headed in the same direction prompting Zephyr to smile.

“Great, then that’ll save us both time. I’ll get the wagon rolling” Zephyr said with a smile before he stuck out his head to the driver to proceed with a thumb.

And with that the wagon started moving. Which was a surprisingly brisk pace compared to the wagon’s that Zephyr had been in back home, with the driver more than content to match the speed of a car on a slow cruise.

Feeling content Zephyr merely looked out the window as he watched The various buildings of The Isles pass by. From general stores, to boutiques, warehouses, and more, with the chancery in the upper districts of The Mountain, the wagon’s path took it through a commercial district. One that he noticed was recently built as even now workers were working on the odd building. With them either building the foundations, excavating the lower floors by hand, and in extremely rare cases getting the occasional machine to help. Machines that Zephyr noted were of the same quality that the train was. That being cobbled together from random parts, looking out of place, and often crewed by a nervous driver while their co-workers who were dragons eagerly watched.

It wasn’t until ten minutes after Zephyr’s idle watching that he was interrupted by a shy voice from within the wagon saying, “are you a spy?”

“And why would you think that?” Zephyr turned curiously towards the official. “

“It’s just your a bit suspicious that’s all,” the official explained with a bit of a nervous stutter. “You come in, you ride this place with me, and you plan to be heading in the same place that I am. Sounds a bit suspicious to me.”

“Just being nice and pure coincidence,” Zephyr replied with a shrug. “Happens all the time.

“But uhm,” the official said, faltering but still standing on the accusation that they had. “You could be one though, I've never seen you around in the chancery before, especially a pegasus.”

“Could be my first day,” Zephyr replied again with a shrug before he gave the official an unamused look. “Are you the one in charge of hiring officials?”

“No,” they relented for a moment before responding with, “but my friend is and they would have told me if they were hiring someone like you,” they pointed out. “You don’t exactly look like a worker.”

“Oh do I now?” Zephyr said with a chuckle as he remembered Heiness’s and The Professor’s condition when he met them. “If I recall most of the officials working in the chancery, those that are foreign look like they’ve gone through the meat grinder,” he remarked before pointing at himself.

“If it helps, if I'm not an office worker then am I a spy?” Zephyr replied, pointing to what he knew to be his emaciated face. “As far as I know, spies are charming, handsome, they are often clean shaven, and wear nice suits. They usually don’t look like…well,” he pointed to his ragged clothes for emphasis, “this.”

There was a small pause and an audible wince from the official as they looked at Zephyr’s outfit. All the while Zephyr thanked his lack of self-care from the fall of his home city, attributing to him a look that provided him an effective disguise.

Need a disguise that’ll fool strangers and government officials? Just become traumatized and don’t take care of yourself. Eventually you’ll look like a hobo and with that you can go anywhere you want, Zephyr chuckled to himself as he took a moment to adjust his suitcase. All without spending a dime.

“I guess they don’t,” the official eventually said with a frown but dropping the matter of him being a spy before shifting into something else. “What were you doing there anyway?”

“Oh just visiting around,” Zephyr answered with a shrug. “Looking around the place, talking to people, and doing what I can to help.”

“Like a journalist?” the official asked with a raised eyebrow. It was one of suspicion, but it was one in which Zephyr noticed and provided an in if he could latch onto it.

“You can go with that,” Zephyr agreed . “Just doing what I can to expand what I know. Would you mind helping me with that?”

“Help you with what?” the official said warily as they inched protectively towards their cargo and held out an interposing arm in front of it. “I’m not telling you what I'm doing or what these boxes are for if your wondering.”

“Fine by me,” Zephyr said with a smile. “Wouldn't want to know what you’ve got in there anyway, whatever your lugging around sounds important, and knowing stuff like that can get me in trouble. Better to stay out of it while I can. I'm wondering if you can answer what’s going on at ground level.”

“The ground level?” the official repeated, somewhat confused. “What do you mean?”

“I mean just what’s going on in general,” Zephyr started to clarify. “I know you guys are buying machines and tools from the gryphons, you have students from Yale coming in to help, but I don’t know what’s going on with you people. Like how are you guy’s adapting to modernization, how's the ruler in charge, and is there anything going on.”

“Oh,” the official said with some relief at being asked a relatively noninvasive question. “Well I can answer that, where would you like to begin?”

“I guess how are you all adapting to this?” Zephyr said as he pointed in the direction of the chancery. “My guess is that those people I mentioned aren’t the only one’s here, and with what I heard from The Isles having an open policy for anyone wanting to be a citizen more people will be coming.” He took a moment to yawn before he continued, “how's that been?”

“It’s been….tiring, to say the least,” the official said before sighing. “Think of it like being the host of a small house to a large party. People are running around, stealing small things, eating your food, getting drunk, making fun of you, and more. All the while your having to run around taking care of everyone’s needs. Someone wants something one moment, another the next, and you're having to go out and get it. It’s expensive, noisy, and it's just a lot of fuss in the end for not much at all.”

“Except you want something out of them this time?” Zephyr said remembering the reasons why the dragons invited the people he had met before to The Isles.

“For the gifts that they bring, yes,” the official said with a nod. “The gifts that they bring are things that you’ve never seen before so it’s worth keeping them around and letting them ruin the place if you can keep what they bring. Even if it isn’t much and you know you're being thieved out of it, in the desperate situation that we are in, those gifts can mean the difference between life and death.”

“I…see,” Zephyr said with some hesitation as he took the information in. It was a curious thing to know that not only were the dragons willing to accept the bad deals they were given by Griffonstone and Yale, but they were even willing to tolerate worse. The reason for why was not out of friendship, but instead out of simple desperation. A far cry from the meanings of friendship and harmony he remembered back home.

“So why are you doing this anyway?” he asked the official, wanting to hear the words come out of their mouth. “All of this stuff has to do something right?”

“It does,” the official answered. “It gives us a bit of a leg up in the world on where to go. With their gifts and help we get factories, we get trains, we get blueprints, and we get access to modern wonder’s that we’ve never seen before until now. It gives us a chance for what’s next.”

“And what would that be?” Zephyr asked, remembering what he remembered from Heiness. “Modernization? For what? Because you want to?”

“For survival of what’s going to come next,” the official said plainly as if they were describing the reason water was wet. “The Isles is rich with natural resources: gems, gold, oil, and even steel. Someone out there in the world is going to want to come for us and when they do, they’ll overwhelm us with ease. By modernizing we can ensure that before they do we’ll actually stand a chance. Factories make guns, trains move supplies, and having a modern industry helps us to withstand a shock or two.”

“It’s simple to be honest,” the official finished with a shrug. “We want to ensure The Isles remains ours, and we are willing to suffer a bit for it. Even to the point of spending a good chunk of what we have now so we can keep what’s left later. Because otherwise we won’t have anything at all.”

“I guess it makes sense,” Zephyr said somewhat abashed as he heard the distant noise of a train departing into the night. He had one of his questions answered now, and in good order, but something felt off to him, why?

With a hand he signaled the official to wait a bit as he thought about it. Why did it feel off? Did it feel too quick, too sudden? Yes but no, it all felt too familiar to Zephyr. With the government radically changing itself and the populace having little idea of what is going on or even how to affect it.

Not that they could anyway. What was done was going to be done, and during such a time elections and even news of what was going on was stamped down hard. Newspapers and radio stations that criticized the government or were shut down in favor of propaganda outlets, public meetings were canceled or were swapped for rally’s, and all the while posters and billboards proudly proclaimed and chanted for the people to do their part. To sacrifice what little they could to help the effort of what was to come, and was to be. All without a single chance of changing it.

The idea of it brought a shiver down his spine when he recalled the days of Equestria when the war started. Not in the means of modernizing itself, the nation was modern except for its military, but radically changing itself to suit the modern day. The government quickly enacted conscription, nightly watches, a state police, rationing, and more to help itself as the war progressed on. And while those things were needed Zephyr supposed, the effect that they had on the people itself was something that Zephyr suspected officials like the one in front of him weren’t aware of.

How many people joined the draft, not because they wanted to, but because they were forced to. How many people were cheated out of the things that they could get when rationing came? How many corrupt people went into positions of power and surveillance because they had the right contacts? And how much was sacrificed for what was ahead? All so whoever was in charge could keep what they wanted?

Zephyr didn’t know, but from the itch on his spine, his hair, and along his arms it brought him unpleasant memories. Memories of a time that he didn’t want to remember, but he knew that he should ask right now, just so that he can know if things were repeating here.

“But how is everyone taking it?” Zephyr asked the official, breaking the silence that he had brewed from his thoughts. “The modernization, the diplomacy, the hosting, and my guess in the future the drafts and the laws to come. All of that's gotta have some effect on people right?”

“I mean from what I heard you dragons haven’t even touched modern stuff for centuries, and now here you are playing with it all of a sudden?” he continued as he gestured out the window as a truck rolled by. “Won’t that affect some people?”

“Well….yes, yes it will, ” the dragon said with some hesitation before they sighed as they patted the boxes that they carried for a moment. “Some of them aren’t taking it well to say the least.

“In what way?” Zephyr asked. “Like staging and protests and stuff?”

“Nothing like that, we dragon’s do not work like that,” the official said with a shake of their head and a sad smile. “It’s just that most of them are simply confused, that's all.”

“Confused?” Zephyr said, just confused. “What do you mean by that?”
“They don’t know what’s going on,” the official said with a shrug. “For most of the people here the most advanced thing they have ever seen was perhaps the odd ship that sailed into port or the few hospitals that we have here, but now,” they hesitated for a moment before continuing, “now things are different.”

“We have trains now, cars, factories, weapons, embassy’s, foreign contacts, immigrants, diplomatic relations with the rest of the world and more, “the official rattled off before continuing even more. “Such things bring change, and people, especially dragons, are unfamiliar with change. Many people simply are confused by what’s going on, why the trades that they pursue if they are not raiding do not provide them the same respect as they used to, why are so many people showing up all of a sudden, why is there so much noise, and most importantly why is The Dragon lord taking so much power all of a sudden,” they finished stressing the last part.

“And my guess is that last one is a problem?” Zephyr said as the faint memory of The Twin Monarch’s suddenly seizing power when the war started came into his head.

“Very,” the official confirmed with a nod. “It threatens to break the trust that the people here have built over countless millennia of The Dragon Lord. And that scares people, especially the clans.”

“The clans?” Zephyr said with some confusion.

“The ones who have given The Dragonlord the right to rule,” the official answered . “The Dragonlord is one who has been given the power and in turn the right to represent us dragons across the world, to make decisions in a time of emergency, to maintain order, and to provide a public figurehead that other people may contact if they wish to.”

“It would be like a baton with a chain that I hold,” the official tried to explain, leaning towards an analogy to help with his description. “As long as you have that baton you may rule in whichever way you wish, but you are only able to do so with my permission, and at any time I may be able to take it back by yanking on it.”

“I see,” Zephyr said with a nod as he mulled the information over. “And it’s a problem because the clan’s see the chain they have disappearing or no longer becoming important? Like The Dragonlord suddenly breaking free and ruling in whichever way she wishes?”

“Exactly,” the official said with a dim smile. “It is the ultimate fear of the clans, I believe. They fear the power that they have over The Isles and us dragons no longer becoming important. If that fear is left to fester and to gain power I worry that they may rally together to try to expel the foreigners, to shut down the rule of The Dragonlord, and to let us live our lives in a way so that they can retain that power.”

“But you can’t let that happen can you,” Zephyr said. “Like you said, you don’t have time. If you stop getting help then you risk getting your asses handed to you by whoever wants to gun for The Isles first. But if you don’t, then you risk civil war.”

The official gave a nod. “The chance is small as many people hold faith in The Dragonlord, and in turn the Torch bloodline, but the slight possibility of rebellion is there. A fact that is not helped by The Scaled Princesses new ideals that she wishes to put into practice.”

“What ideals?” Zephyr said not knowing much about the subject. “Mind telling me more.”

“Of course,” the official said as the wagon bumped for a moment as it continued on its way. “The Scaled Princess, the current dragonlord, wishes to experiment with harmony. That being the way of benevolent rule, a fair hand, and the practices that are practiced within Equestria.”

“But wait, why is that a bad thing? " Zephyr interrupted somewhat befuddled. “Isn’t practicing harmony a good thing for a lot of people? Why would it cause more trouble? Isn’t more rights a good thing?”

With that question the official only gave a sigh, a sigh that Zephyr had noticed was the same that The Professor gave to him. He had asked something showing how oblivious and naive he was to the outside world again.

“I see where you are from, pony,” the official said with a nod to themselves. “An outsider from outside of Equestria would not ask that question.”

“Because you see harmony is change, radical change,” they started to explain again,” Something of which many people are unfamiliar with and fear most of all. Yes, the practice of harmony in one’s governments gives more rights, more benefits, and many things that many people may want to wish for from the world, but it requires a lot of effort, and in turn a heavier hand than what the people may be comfortable with. New bureau’s of government have to be made, new laws drafted, more officials who could be corrupt being elected or promoted, and more. All of which still brings strain upon one’s populace. A government may wish to become harmonic, but they cannot do so if it would strain their populace to the point of breaking or secession”

“Because of that,” the official continued, “many governments today pursue a moderate policy. It may be one that is perhaps not idealistic, but in turn it is one that can be said to be somewhat moral and pragmatic.”

“I guess,” Zephyr said, feeling defeated. The idea of simply turning towards a less harmonic stance wasn’t one that he was happy with, but he supposed is one that made sense in the right circumstances. If the world was different and fair, then he would be back home still trying to figure out who he was. That or perhaps lounging around sleeping his days away.

There was a visible pause as the wagon slowly made its way around the corner, and as it did so Zephyr could see in the distance the distant markings of The Traveller. With the windows being lit at this time of night, it stood out amongst the surrounding buildings. Providing an illusion of sanctuary and rest for anyone that saw it.

Last questions I guess, he thought to himself as he turned to the official, and who after discussing with Zephyr with quite some time comfortably sat ready to answer his questions.

But Zephyr couldn't think of anything, still feeling morose he simply idly watched as the wagon slowly made its way to the hotel, stopping in front of it.

“I am sorry if it seems there is no easy solution or problem that we have sir,” the official started as they began idly collecting their things. “But that is the crux of the situation that we are in. We are in one that is filled with problems, obstacles, and we do not have an easy solution for any of them. What will come next will require the right decisions, the right circumstances, and perhaps a bit of luck.” Eventually finishing what they said to say, they motioned to Zephyr to open the door for him. And after doing so they swiftly made their way out carefully balancing the materials that they had in their arms once more.

“Honestly, at times like these I wish we had accepted the offer of statehood from your country," the official said with a chuckle, “if we let them manage all of this, it would make things a lot easier on my end, that’s for sure.”

That remark reinvigorated Zephyr. The offer of statehood to the dragons? To bring them into Equestria not as an independent nation, but instead as a state? He’d never heard of that before!? When did this happen? Why? And for what reason? Wanting to know, Zephyr quickly climbed his way with his suitcase in hand to ask them some more on what they had said.

But by the time he managed to get out, the official was gone. The only thing that he could see of their trace was them distantly fading away into the hotel’s lobby.

Ahhh just my luck, Zephyr lamented as he quickly waved farewell to the wagon that he was on as it made its way back to wherever it came, the moment I hear something interesting and unique the person who provides that information disappears.

He sighed to himself as he took a moment to collect his suitcase and looked inside the hotel. It was still busy, but a bit lax with the hour being late in the day. Employee’s milled around half asleep, any guards were entirely absent, and visitors quickly checked into rooms or rented them without a care about the price and only the assurance of safety and peace. Nothing else was happening within.

Well there's only one way in if I want to learn more, Zephyr thought to himself as he noted the official disappearing around a corner. This time with them only stopping to pause to flash a badge at some official that came close and who upon seeing it quickly turned away. Hopefully the badge I got from Heiness and the clerk works here, because if not I'm going to get in a lot of trouble.

Move left, move right, flash a badge to the nearest worker when they approach you, say something in Equestrian that means you're busy, and keep walking. Getting inside of the hotel and making his way past the entrance was simple, nobody really bothered him as they assumed that he was part of the officials entourage, but it was nerve wracking to say the least once he actually got past the entrance. Because from there things started to get weird.

Because once he got well past the entrance the corridors within The Traveller seemed to stretch on and on throughout the building becoming almost labyrinthian. Zephyr would find himself turning left, left, left, and doing it so many times that he felt like he was going in circles as he followed the tracks of The Official. But still the numbers on the rooms changed, the stains that were on the carpet did as well, and even the light fixtures as well. One moment it would be a normal lamp, the next torch sconces, and finally small crystalline gem’s on the wall.

Still doesn't change the fact that I feel lost though, Zephyr bitterly thought to himself as he took a moment to rest before he took out the compass that he received from Discord. Feels like I've been at this for hours, how long has it been anyway?

Alas, the compass didn’t give Zephyr an answer. It had a sundial, but one that only worked when it was in the sun. When held in his hands it sat there limp, useless, and feeble, entirely unable to do the purpose that it was made for.

Zephyr only shook his head in dismay as he put it away before he turned his attention back to following the official, but as he did he noticed them stop in front of a room, and an exchange began to take place. One in which The Official knocked on the door of the room in which they stopped in front of, handed off the items that they had with a look of gratitude to whoever was inside, and from the moment that the door closed they sprinted off. The look on their face being akin to a man who had just seen Discord for the first in their lives, pure terror mixed with the overwhelming need to flee.

As always that set Zephyr to be curious, and wanting to know more he momentarily abandoned the idea of following The Official and made his way over towards the door before going inside.

And when Zephyr entered the room, he noticed that it was more of an impromptu common room than anything else. A large wooden conference table sat in the middle of the room and that was surrounded by chairs, couches, and utterly filled with The Officials cargo. The boxes, the folders, and the various items that they carried spilled across the table without a care for cleanliness.

All the while similar amenities that could be found throughout the common room that were in the lobby of the hotel: a heater, coffee maker, fan, a large poster of the map of the world put on a wall, a door to a nearby restroom, and more. It was somewhat unremarkable, but its inhabitants certainly weren’t.

Because inside the building was a man, with furred wings as dark as night, cat eyes, a smile with a pair of sharp fangs, and dressed in simple priestly robes adorned with silver jewelry sitting at a sofa. That man was a Thestral, a subspecies of ponykind or humanity that was lesser known throughout the world, but that could be seen in certain places. People who were often the target of prejudice, and of which Zephyr had no ill-intent or focus for. Because his eyes focused on something more interesting. For in the room sitting across the Thestral and surrounded by papers was a bug man with antennas on his head, a split jaw, and exoskeleton for skin, a changeling.

When Zephyr saw the changeling he was overcome with a strange mix of befuddlement and wonder, like a kid seeing a rhino for the first time. Because until now Zephyr had never seen a changeling before. At least in the sense of it not being in a biology book from the few dissections that were made on the species following the first invasion of Canterlot or in propaganda posters. Everyone had by this point, even him, but still he’d never seen one before, and the moment he did it dispelled the many myths and inaccuracies people had on changelings.

For with the war Equestrian and in turn its inhabitants had demonized the changeling. Painting the species as a feral and mindless beast that was in the form of a man and that only served as a puppet for its overlord, and who eagerly threw themselves to the fire of war without hesitation or thought. All of which was eagerly sponsored and promoted by artists, biologists, and government sponsored parties in any way that they could.

But the changeling that sat in front of Zephyr that was smoking a pipe and laughing was different. Yes the changeling was thin, inhumanely thin and skeletal, and it obviously showed its insectoid-like heritage, but it was not to the point of it being a sign of its inherent evil or the like. Instead it simply seemed to be that it was. Such as how the praying mantis may be thin, the beetle heavy and large, and the ant tiny yet strong. Nothing seemed to be off about it.

No muscles, no organs, no hair, and not a speck of anything that could be found on the surface of a man was on the surface of the changeling. Only segmented chitin made up the skin that could be seen on the changeling. With each little plate that served as their exo-skeleton-like skin interlocking and moving with one another in perfect harmony, a fine example of mother nature and evolution. A far cry from the heavy and garish plate that was seen on the posters and television everywhere.

However the one thing that struck Zephyr the most, and perhaps that dispelled any lingering thoughts he had of the Equestria’s portrayal of changelings was their eyes. They were human, shockingly human. Soft gray eyes with pupils very much like his own looked across the table to the Thestral. They blinked, they moved left, they moved right, and as they did Zephyr could feel something in him shatter. He didn’t know what it was, but he knew a part of him had changed, just for the life of him he couldn't figure out what it was exactly. Was it the propaganda he heard? Was it judging other species in the world? Or maybe it was just him realizing the changeling eyes were quite human. Human enough that they could be for average person’s even if they were different.

However before he could ruminate any further he was interrupted by a voice that came from within the room. It spoke a language that he didn’t know of so he only made a confused expression as he tilted his head to look towards the source.

The source of which was from the priest, and who was fiddling with a knife that he expertly between in his hands. The knife expertly moved from finger to finger like a coin with the priest not even sparing a passing glance at it.

“Uhm, sorry I don’t speak your language,” Zephyr said, shaking his head to clear his thoughts as he awkwardly stood in the doorway of the room before he laughed a bit. “I don’t exactly speak dragonish or changeling, what were you saying?”

“I was asking if you were okay,” replied the priest in Equestrian. The tone of his voice being ragged and charred compared to the smooth and often sagely tone that Zephyr had heard from priests back in Equestria. “You don’t look good.”

“What do you mean?” Zephyr asked with a raised eyebrow. “I feel fine.”

“You look like shit, and like the time when I was back in the legions running through the jungle trying to chase blacktails.” the priest said with a flat tone and expression before it softened. “Good memories, but ones that still itch at me that’s for sure.

The changeling barked something with a scoff from their workplace that had the priest empathetically nod.

“Mhmh,” the priest hummed, “whether it’s in the jungle or in the north, some things just don’t change.”

“But anyway,” the priest said, refocusing his attention to Zephyr and pointing to the suitcase that he had. “What are you here for? You lost?”

“Not really,” Zephyr said with a bit of a shy look before he pointed to the door that he came from. “I was just wondering what was going on here. I was in the lobby a few minutes ago when I saw someone carrying a bunch of boxes and I got curious. Followed them and I ended up here.”

“Well there's not much in there if you're wondering. Just papers, charts, chocolate, whiskey, and cigars” the priest listed off before eventually opening a box that was filled with cigars and holding one out to Zephyr. “Want one? It’s premium stuff.”

“Sure,” Zephyr said with a half-baked nod as he took the cigar and with the help of a light from the priest began smoking. The cigar itself Zephyr could tell was indeed premium or at the very least quality. The smell it had was unlike any other, with it being rich and dark, and entirely free of ash, tar, and unneeded chemical supplements that were found in ordinary cigarettes.

Still, a single puff of it sent Zephyr hacking and coughing as he quickly popped the cigar from his mouth and braced himself against the sofa. And all the while the priest laughed.

“Never smoked?” the priest said as he held out a hand for the cigar.

“Not really,” Zephyr admitted as he handed it over. “Spent years in classrooms and diners that were filled with smoke and I just can’t handle it anymore.”

“Mhmh, a shame then” the priest hummed as he took the cigar into his mouth before taking a puff. “Good on you for giving it a try though.”

“Thanks,” Zephyr said as the tips of his mouth curled up. “I aim to please.”

The priest simply nodded as he took a few more puffs, his eyes slowly becoming glazed with drugged contentment. Soon after they turned their focus back onto Zephyr, wanting to know more.

“Well you know what you know now, does that satisfy your curiosity?” the priest asked as he took a drag before turning to Zephyr with an interrogative expression. “Or is there anything else I can help you with?”

“Only if you have the time for it,” Zephyr said with a loose laugh, “I’m just running around The Isles wondering what’s going on, asking people questions, and seeing what I can get myself into,” he finished with a shrug. “Nothing special.”

“So you can report it back home?” the priest said with a raised eyebrow.

“So I can learn about it for myself,” Zephyr said with a smile. “Homes…not exactly a good place to return to at the moment.”

“Is that so?” the priest said, his eyes filled with curiosity, “if i may be so inclined to ask, but why? Is it gone and you're looking for a new place to settle or are you running from it.”

“The latter,” Zephyr answered hesitantly. “Things were getting too hot, I wanted to get out, and here I am. I don’t plan on staying long however. Maybe a day or two before moving on.”

“Interesting,” the priest said, “any idea how you plan to get out?”

“I uhh, well i’ll figure it out,” Zephyr said faltering for a bit before ending it with a shrug. “I managed to get here when my country was in lockdown so I'm sure I’ll find a way to get out of here in time.”

And Zephyr honestly wasn’t sure how he was going to get out. Was he going to smuggle himself into another cargo ship? Hire someone to fly him from The Isles into the south or east continent? He knew he couldn't just fly there, too much work,. and he didn’t have the talent or the skill for it. Only certain people could and they trained, things like that for months. Something that he obviously hadn’t done before. He flew for fun, not for exercise after all.

Plus his wings were still broken from the guards, and while he couldn't feel the pain that he had in them before when they initially broke, he knew that something was wrong with them. Wing’s for sure didn’t feel heavy and like they were made out of stone, moving them around didn’t feel like he was nearly pulling a muscle, and they didn’t look the way that they did now. WIth them looking like they were played with by a kid with a penchant for breaking toys.

Maybe he could try to find someone that would be willing to help? Ms. Coffin was still out of the question, she was just too busy and filled with too important matters to help someone like him, but maybe someone else could? Maybe, maybe.

Something to do later, Zephyr thought to himself as he began to end his thoughts, someone’s bound to help eventually if I start asking enough, and especially if I offer some cash.

“Well, best of luck to you with that,” the priest said with a nod and a puff of smoke, “not sure if you're stupid, if your desperate, or your brave, but it’ll make for an interesting story at the very least at the end of this.” There was a pause before they added, “if you make it out of here alive of course.”

“And to help with that I'm going to fulfill your little wish, the priest continued, stretching out his arms with a smile. “What can this old man answer for someone like you ah,” they paused for a moment before quipping, “tourist?”

That remark sent Zephyr laughing a bit. First being seen as a refugee or a hobo, next a nobody, next a journalist or an official, and finally a tourist? I wonder what they’re gonna call me next, Zephyr wondered to himself as he started talking.

“Helping me understand what’s going on would help,” Zephyr said with a smile from the man’s quip. “If you have the time of course.”

“And that I do, but first introductions” the priest said, taking a moment to stretch before holding out a hand. “Father Silver, and yours?”

“Zephyr, just Zephyr” Zephyr said, taking out the man’s gloved hand and shaking it. “Mind giving me a good place to start before I start hitting you with twenty questions?”

“That I can,” Father Silver said with a nod as he pointed to one of the documents that was on the table before reaching over to grab it. Shuffling through the papers for a moment they settled on which and they began to talk, but just before they quickly held up the documents that were on the table in the general direction of the changeling before saying something.

The changeling took another hit from the pipe that they smoked before they let loose a small cloud of pink-tinted smoke and ended it with a nod.

“This Zephyr is options, and information,” Father Silver said as he returned back to the documents and pored through them. “Information in the form of a gift.”

“A gift?” Zephyr said somewhat with some disbelief as he pointed a finger towards it. “Your sure there's not a jack in the box or some strings attached with it?”

“No sir, nothing like that,” the priest said as they took another puff and their face split into a smile, “we’re just here to tell them something that we’re both sure they would be interested in.”

“And what would that be?” Zephyr asked with a raised eyebrow. “Blueprints? Weapons? An alliance of some sorts.”

“No, nothing like that,” the priest said as they shuffled through the documents before taking out a small folder, and within moments produced a set of images that they laid down on the table. The picture of which was The Badlands.

“Tell me, what do you know about this place?” the priest said as he tapped a finger against it, their face becoming like stone as they did so. “And give me as much info as you can, the more the better.”

“Well I know that it’s home to a bunch of dragons that have been there since sun knows how long. And I know the place also has one of the largest skeletons in existence, ” Zephyr rattled off as he tried to recall the lessons that he was in back in school.

“But that’s all I've got, other than it being in Equestria there's not much else I know about it, ” he ended with a sheepish shrug towards Father Silver. “Sorry.”

“At least you admitted it.” Father Silver said with a nod before he turned his attention towards the images. “Now let me tell you what you’ve missed.

“Because I'm sure you know the relations between Equestrian’s and dragons are cold internationally, but they are downright hostile in that area,” Father Silver began. “The clans in the area raid the surrounding places for loot, they hurt people, and they make off with cash, fuel, cars, and whatever they can find. Equestria and in turn the local populace wants the dragons to stop, but the dragons refuse because they are dragons. Simple right?”

“Right,” Zephyr said with a nod. He was well aware of dragons still raiding trucks, cars, and people from time to time. People didn’t make movies, books, and fantasy stories out of them after all.

“Good, and moving on,” Father Silver said as he started to shuffle through the documents. “As i’ve mentioned Equestria has made demands with the threat of military action in the past to coerce the dragons to stop, but they haven’t done anything yet.”

“Why not?” Zephyr asked.

“Because of the hand of The Twin Monarchs and politics,” Father Silver said. “I guess in their eyes they aren’t willing to start a war with a minority. Why? Because ordering a bunch of troops to drive them off your land doesn't exactly make you the upholder of harmony anymore in your eyes, does it? ”

“No, no it doesn't,” Zephyr said with a shake of his head. “Makes you more of a dictator than anything else.”

“Mmhmh,” Father Silver hummed as he finally took out the document he was looking for and laid it on the table, “but now things are different because something very important has just been discovered in that area” he finished by tapping the document with a smile. “Something very important to a lot of people.”

Craning his head over to look, Zephyr slid the document over to himself as he looked through it. He couldn't understand the language that was on it as it was in the language of the Isles, but he could understand the meaning of it. It was a survey report by someone looking for something, and by the looks of their handwriting whatever the prospector was looking for they found it, a lot of it.

“Is what I think it is,” Zephyr said as he looked at the report in disbelief, “how did they get to it? Aren't the badlands restricted?”

“It is,” said Father Silver with a nod, “but they ignored it, sent a crew under the cover of night, got the results, and got out as fast as they could after. Dragon’s may be vigilant, but they eventually sleep like everyone else, and when you feel like you're on the top of the world, keeping watch isn’t exactly something you do.”

“I guess,” Zephyr said somewhat unsure as he looked at the report as it now carried an ominous aura on it. “What did they find?”

“What didn’t they find?” Father Silver replied with a dark chuckle. “The place is a motherlode for industrial resources: crystal, steel, oil, and with all of them in ample supply. Everything any nation young or old could ever want.”

“Especially one in a time of crisis, “Zephyr said deflating as he began to connect the dots. The badlands was by itself, its relations to Equestria somewhat cold, its parent nation being hundreds of miles away, and populated by dragons. Dragons of which did the things they always did: raiding, looting, hoarding, whatever they wanted, and refusing any chance of diplomacy on them being dragons. Something had to break, and this might have been it.

The only question was, what now? Zephyr turned to the priest and asked him the question, and when he did Father Silver smiled a smile full of teeth. One that knew all too well of the situation at hand.

“What do you think is going to happen?” Father Silver asked Zephyr his smile, now a cheshire grin. “By my guess Equestria is going to say they’ve had enough, roll up with some tanks, and make their demands loud and clear. If the dragon’s acquiesce to their demands then they get what they want and everything is fine, but if they don’t they’ll take it by force.”

“But would Equestria really do that?” Zephyr asked somewhat disbelievingly. “I mean as you said before, wouldn't it make them look bad on the world stage?”

“With the situation as it is right now? Who would even care?” Father Silver asked Zephyr plainly. “They are dragons after all, they’ve hurt everybody in the past, and I assure you everyone would want to see them put down a peg or two for the arrogance they have.”

“And that isn’t even mentioning the situation as it is right now for Equestria,” Father Silver continued, “ desperate times make for desperate measures. And hurting thousands so you can potentially save millions with it is good math in everyone’s eyes, and especially if those thousands are seen as criminals in the eyes of the world. I mean, wouldn't you?” he asked Zephyr. “Would you kill a criminal so you can potentially save a family?”

“I mean,” Zephyr tried to say before he stopped and instead merely covered his eyes with his thumb and index before giving a sigh. He didn’t know. He was certain before with the weapon, but in the circumstances of that question he was unsure now. Would he? Should he? He didn’t like the idea of hurting people, but maybe he could make an exception?

He didn’t know. He just didn’t know. The thought of it all made him feel queasy and ill. There had to be some sort of third option in that event, one in which he didn’t need to do either one and didn’t have to choose.

Father Silver merely hummed in acknowledgement of Zephyr's hesitation and internal conflict. Eventually going back to the documents, he grabbed a series of them now, all of which seemed to be letters.

“Well regardless of your answer tourist, something is starting to happen that’s for sure,” Father Silver said to Zephyr he took a minute to look at one of the letters in his hands.. “It could be nothing, and everything that I say is just a lie, but it could be very something real, something very real, and if it isn’t stopped in one way or another, then a lot of people are going to get hurt.”

“And even if it can’t be stopped,” Father Silver said as he tossed the documents onto the table, each revealing coded correspondents, “I would want to know who my friends really are.” He stopped to look at Zephyr with an earnest look, his fat cigar idly for a moment, “I mean wouldn't you?”

Zephyr only gave a numb nod to Father Silver, whose priest smiled and gathered the documents and put them back in their appropriate folders.

“So that’s what we’re here for,” he explained as he finished putting them away and took another drag. “At least, what the changelings are here for.”

“The changelings?” Zephyr said, rousing for a moment and blinking his eyes in confusion as he turned to Father Silver. “How did they manage to learn about this?”

“How else do you think they did?” Father Silver said with a chuckle. “A few disguises here, a bit of treachery there, and before you know it, you have what you have here right now, but that isn’t important,” he said, patting zephyr on the shoulder to distract him. “What is important is what they are willing to offer them.”

“And what would that be?” Zephyr mumbled out.

“The information of course,” Father Silver replied as he wrapped one of his arms around Zephyr's neck before holding out his arm like he was a car salesman, “but most importantly, friendship.”

“Friendship?” Zephyr said, confused. “What do you mean?”

“What else do you think it could be,” Father Silver said with a chuckle. “The chance to make a friend with someone who cares, the chance to make a friend with someone who is willing to help, to listen, and if need be avenge what will be wrongfully done to them. The chance for there to be peace between the dragons and the changelings,” he finished with an earnest smile before finishing with, “and perhaps something more.”

“I uhm,” Zephyr faltered as he tried to process it. He was conflicted with that information to say the least and didn’t know how to react to it. On one hand peace was good, peace was nice, people didn’t die during peace, people weren’t being forcefully recruited into the army, rationing wasn’t enforced, and so much more. It was something that desired more than anything right now, to be in a nation at peace, and perhaps it could be something that many dragons desired as well, hopefully.

But on the other hand it would leave Equestria in the dark and leave it entirely alone against the changeling threat. After all, the changelings were at war with Equestria, and from what he now knew the relations between both dragons and Equestrian’s was volatile, very volatile. Would them being friends with the changelings be enough for it to explode into war? One in which the threat to the country and to harmony was on both sides? What would happen then? Could Equestria survive a war in which they were surrounded?

He didn’t know, Zephyr just didn’t know what to do with the information or what to make of it. Thinking about it sent a stone straight into his gut, it itched his hair, and it filled his head with anxietic static to the point he was nearly left speechless. The only thing he could think to say or even do was just ask a simple, “why?”

“Why?” Father Silver scoffed in a joking manner, “why not? As far as I'm aware the changelings don’t hate the dragons, they only hate Equestria for what they have done to them.”

“Oi,” Father Silver said, turning towards the changeling to get their attention, “Mind waking up for a minute.”

The changeling did so taking a moment to stretch from their work and to raise an eyebrow in anticipation for what the thestral priest would say next.

“Just to confirm for the tourist here,” Father Silver said, patting Zephyr on the back, “do the changelings hate the dragons?”

The changeling shook their head in response.

“Good,” he said with a nod. “Do you know why?”

The changeling answered in a language that Zephyr didn’t know and to which the Thestral intently listened. When they finished Father Silver simply nodded and gestured for them to get back to their work which they did with gusto,

“Just in case you didn’t know what the changeling said,“ Father Silver started to explain to Zephyr. “The dragon’s don’t hate the changelings or are interested in going to war against them because you can’t harvest love from a dragon.”

“You can’t?” Zephyr asked him, “why not?”

“Some quirk in their biology or magic I guess,” he answered with a shrug. “But that isn’t the only thing, because the more important part is that the dragon’s have a history with them.”

‘They do?” Zephyr asked again. “How?”

“Past deals, a lack of actual conflict between the two that isn’t one or two uppity elders or whelps running around having fun, having a line of communication that has been maintained, but most importantly, respect and in turn recognition to their current ruler’s lineage,” Father Silver said, patting Zephyr while he had a wistful smile. “After all, they helped her distant ancestors in the past by sending mercenaries to help them establish their rule. When their current ruler's mother died they were the only ones that sent a letter of sympathy to her. When she was crowned formally when she was of age they were the only ones that gave them gifts from the changelings' ancient past to celebrate, and so much more.”

“But,” Zephyr tried to say before he was shushed by the Thestral priest.

“I know what you're going to say,” Father Silver quickly interrupted Zephyr, pressing a finger to Zephyr’s mouth. “How could a changeling be friends with a dragon? Well, friendships come in many strange shapes or sizes in our modern day. And should one really hate the idea of friendship and harmony blossoming in this unique way?”

“Should they?” he pressed Zephyr,” or should they hate it because it’s…unnatural,” he finished with air quotes.

“No, I-i-I guess not,” Zephyr struggled to say as his mind still reeled in shock. “One shouldn't hate friendship and harmony between the changelings and the dragons. After all, hating it would go against the ideas of it.”

“Good,” Father Silver said with a smile as he unhooked Zephyr from his arm. “Do you have any other questions I can answer?

“I uhm,” Zephyr faltered for a minute as he tried to blink away the confusion before taking a moment to breathe. It was just too much, the information was just too much, it’s potential consequences as well, and he didn’t know what to do with it. The priest and the changeling could say such things or keep them in mind without much thought, with them paying it little more mind than saying a fact about the weather, but him? No, it merely just sent him to his knees mentally. This was…something, something big, very big, and he didn’t want any part of it.

Reeling, shaking a bit, and his head flooding with mental static, Zephyr looked for something, anything, to hold onto, to ask, to listen, and to draw his attention away from contemplating what could come next for the world, for Equestria, and potentially the war back home. He found it in the man’s unique outfit and what he wore.

“Uhm, sir,” Zephyr stuttered out as he pointed a shaking finger at the man’s necklace. “What is that”?”

The necklace that Father Silver wore was a strange thing that he’d never seen before with a set of beads decorating along the chain, and that which ended into a small pendant. And engraved on it was a silhouette against the moon made entirely from polished moonstone, and whose depiction reminded Zephyr of The Monarch of The Moon, but in a way that didn’t seem like it. He didn’t really know how to describe it, but the silhouette simply looked wrong. Not malicious or even bad, just wrong from what he knew of the depictions of The Monarch of The Moon.

“This?” Father Silver asked as he took out the pendent and looked at it, his face becoming soft. “It’s a sign of my faith, my rank, the people who I live with, and who I belong to.” There was a thoughtful pause before he finished with, “in a way it is everything.”

“Everything huh,” Zephyr worded out like he was chewing the words as he spoke them while he tried to calm down. It was a strange thing for man to place so much on such a little thing. Why? Why was that thing so important to him? Wanting to know he voiced his question to Father Silver who had for the first time in his eyes seemed worn and old. The boisterous, loud, and convincing part of him that he wore had faded away leaving only a tired old man in front of him. One who wasn’t old in years, but instead in experience.

“Well,” Father Silver said with some hesitation as he nervously scratched the back of his neck. Taking a moment to remove the cigar from his mouth he placed it on the table as he looked towards the map, “I suppose to begin, what do you know of The Twin Monarchs?”

“Not that much,” Zephyr honestly answered with a shrug. “I know they rule over us, I know that they raise the sun and moon, that they are immortal and powerful, but not much more than that.” He decided to leave out part of The Librarian’s incident from his answer, it didn’t exactly feel polite to say that he knew that they could go insane, and turn into beasts.

“I see,” Father Silver answered with a smile. “Then what do you know about Nightmare Moon? Do you know where she came from? What she did, and what she promised to do?”

“Her?” Zephyr said dubiously as he scratched the back of his neck, “again not much. Just that she was some sort of evil side to the Monarch of The Moon I suppose. One that planned to keep the night ongoing forever. If you ask me, that doesn't exactly sound like a good plan. I mean, don’t you need the sun to see, make plants, and stuff?”

“I suppose so,” Father Silver said with a chuckle. “It is true that plants would certainly have a harder time growing if the sun is away.”

“But,” he said, raising a finger, “ that problem can be resolved quite easily and that wasn’t the only thing she wanted to do.”

“What was that?” Zephyr asked as the last dregs of his anxiety had fully faded away, now replaced only by interest and curiosity in the subject at hand.

“She promised equality and a golden age,” Father Silver said, “one that would be given to us by a firm and tempered hand. Not being afraid to do what must be done nor never to forget the tenets of humanity or kindness.”

He sighed before he softly said,” she promised us these things and she was murdered for it.”

“Murdered?” Zephyr said with some disbelief, that last part didn’t feel right, it didn’t feel right at all. “Are you sure you said that right? I don’t think she was murdered. Wasn’t she sealed away?”

“Yes I did,” Father Silver confirmed his resolution to the answer with a nod, “whether she was murdered or sealed away, the consequences for it are the same I believe. She was wiped away from history, her memory becoming nothing more than a ghost. How many people remember her for what she could have been, what she promised? Of the good that she could have done for us, for you, for me, the world?”

He looked at Zephyr with a scowl, his face having hardened into stone, “or how many people remember her for what she is now? Nothing more than a scary story to tell children?”

“Not that many I guess,” Zephyr hesitantly agreed with a shrug. “So that’s it? You worship her for that? The promise of what she could have done?”

“Not exactly,” Father Silver replied hesitantly, “there are many aspects to the faith, and whose details are simply too varied to go into now. It would take me hours to properly explain it all, but,” he said musing for a moment, “what I can say is that what she promised us was real, very real. And for many of us that is what drives us to our faith in her, for the promises that she made us and of how the world reacted to it. ”

“Really?” Zephyr said unwittingly, “it’s that real for you?”

The priest simply nodded in response, and when he did Zephyr knew something about him. That to him it was as real as his own heart beating in his chest, definitive, firm, and unyielding. He would rather die than ever abandon his faith and creed.

A silent moment between the two ensued. With Zephyr contemplating what he had heard, the realization of the political situation of The Isles having faded away with the knowledge of whatever that the priest in front of him worshiped. All the while questions ran through his mind: where did the faith come from, why did the faith happen, what were its exact details, was there something about Nightmare Moon that Zephyr or the world didn’t know about, and where could he learn more if not here?

Like always Zephyr wanted to know and he voiced a question to the priest hoping for a response, and when he did the priest cracked an eyebrow in response as a look flashed across his face; one of pleasant surprise mixed with uncertainty and doubt.

“Are you that curious to know more?” Father Silver asked Zephyr the softness in his eyes fading away into a sharp edge. “Why would you want to?”

“I don’t really know,” Zephyr confessed with a shrug. “It just sounds like something to do, something to learn, and I guess perhaps to have a story to tell back home if I ever make it back,” he finished with a hollow laugh. “Not sure when that’ll happen, but if it does, it would be nice.”

“I suppose so,” Father Silver agreed with some hesitation, “but it is hard to learn more as the place in which my faith resides is hidden from the world.” He stopped for a moment to fix Zephyr, a glare that ran through him, “are you curious enough to learn more, even if doing so can cost you dearly?”

“ I guess?” Zephyr answered with some hesitation and more than a bit of obliviousness as he nudged his suitcase. “If you mean cash I think I have enough to get me a round trip through the world and anywhere I want. Pretty sure I can even charter a plane or a boat if it costs me enough to get there.”

The man only stared still looking at Zephyr, now as if he were a jeweler looking for a flaw in a gem. Zephyr only nervously sweated in response.

“I mean I don’t know,” he continued, now starting to babble,” it just is what it is. If you don't want me to know, that’s fine. I’m sure I can live without it or maybe find some college out there that kno-”

“No,there's no need for that,” the priest interrupted Zephyr with a raised hand. If you truly wish to know then I will tell you.” He then began to get up as he whispered to himself, “it should be relatively harmless anyway.”

Harmless? Zephyr thought to himself with some alarm as he watched Father Silver walk to the map that was on the board. He looked at it for a time before he eventually placed a finger on the western side of the continent. “

“The home of my faith and my birthplace is a town named Moonspeaker Hollow in a nation called Chiroptera,” Father Silver said. “It is a small place that is hidden from the world, and if you wish to reach it you will have some difficulty to say the least. No official plane or boat knows of the place, nor will they ever dare to go there directly. ”

The finger trailed down towards what Zephyr could guess to be the northern coast of Maregyptia. “Because of that you will have to seek an alternative. If you ever find yourself within the coast of north Maregyptia look around and you may find a number of fishermen who are very much like me,” he said pointing towards himself. “Tell them you are a distant cousin, and that you wish to pay homage to the moon. They may act confused at first, perhaps even deny any knowledge of what you say, but act calm, persist, and they will respond, especially if you show them this.”

And taking a moment to calm himself as if he were to do something that he knew he might regret, he took off his necklace, a few of his rings, cleaned them for a moment, and tenderly held them out to Zephyr.

“Here,” he said, shaking his hand a bit for emphasis. “I do not have any spares so you will have to take mine. Keep it, it is yours.”

“Thank you?” Zephyr answered hesitantly as he grabbed the necklace and the rings before he inspected it for a moment. Both were silver, meticulously handcrafted, and in turn had the same depiction that Zephyr now had an answer for, Nightmare moon.

He put it on, with the rings on his pinky and ring, and the necklace around his neck. Father Silver smiled.

“Hopefully they will be of some help to you on your…world wide tour,” he said, his figures still tense but slowly relaxing. “Sadly, I believe that this will be the end of our discussions for now. I have work that I need to do, and I'm sure that you have places to visit, people to talk to, and sights to see.”

“I guess so,” Zephyr said, noticing and taking his cue to stand up, grab his suitcase, and walk towards the door. “Thank you again for the information.”

“It is the least that I can do,” Father Silver answered as he escorted Zephyr out, “a missionary should always be willing to help those who are in need, especially if they wish to know of the faith.”

Zephyr merely hummed in response as he was led out of the room and to the door, but before he did he asked the missionary a question that nearly escaped him. What was Chiropterra or him doing here anyway?

“Oh, that '' Father Silver said, laughing a bit as if it was an afterthought as he began to close the door. “We are here to merely hear out the dragon’s opinion on the view of us Thestrals and of our lady Nightmare Moon. If things go well and with their permission we may establish a religious outpost so that I and others may spread the faith. All the while providing the knowledge of our expertise to them.”

“But what if things do-”” Zephyr tried to say before the door closed on him and shut out his ability to learn anymore on the subject.

Hehm, guess that’s that, he thought to himself as he stared out the door before he looked at his newfound jewelry. It reminded him of something, but what? Wanting an answer he took a moment to search through his things.

And his answer came in the form of the idol that he had picked before from outside the cave. The figure that was on it was remarkably similar to Nightmare Moon, shockingly similar, and with it a realization entered his mind.

If both Celestia and Luna, The Twin Monarch’s of Equestria, could turn, what would happen if they actually did? Nightmare Moon apparently had a cult following far off part of the world. One that was apparently a nation, was deeply fanatical, had secluded itself from the rest of the world, and was willing to wait centuries for her. If Celestia turned, would she want the same thing? What would happen to Equestria then? Would she start a new cult based on her corrupted ideals whatever they may be that was just as fanatical as the one he now knew? What would happen if they both turned at the same time?

That last thought sent a deep shiver down Zephyr’s spine. Whatever the result is, it wouldn't be pretty. And if he could hazard a guess The Isles would be wrapped up in it too, whether they wanted or not. The chance was small, but it still existed, and he wasn’t going to take a chance.

Wordlessly he left the hotel and made his way into the streets. The faster he got out of here, the better. Hopefully to somewhere safe, wherever that was…if it even existed.

Author's Note:

This chapter was interesting to write to me as during it I was able to talk and to partially answer a main conflict that I would say would occur for the dragons in EaW. What do you do to survive the coming years of global conflict?
Do you seek patronage with the changelings who treat you with more respect than any other nation due to centuries of political maneuvering from Torch and past Dragonlords? Their ruler may be evil and a bit delusional, but she is a proud person who is more than willing to uphold and reignite old friendships and treaties. It's an easy decision, but one that can bring worrisome results as Ember slowly realizes the full extent of what decades of hate have done to the changeling queen.
Perhaps The Isles can do so instead with Equestria the closest neighbor to them. It's an obvious decision with obvious benefits such as supporting harmony, having a close ally, the possibility of becoming a protectorate by Equestria, and more. However there will be problems after with the issue of the badlands being one of them, their violent and tense past with the Equestrians, and the dragons potentially being forever being viewed as primitive savages, and who have in the eyes of Equestrian's have burdened them with the task of civilizing them. Allying with Equestria won't simply be a lossless benefit to my eyes.
Or do you instead strike it out alone? Becoming entirely neutral and staying out of the conflict. You may be weaker alone, but you will have your independence and nobody will bother you then...at least until a certain Gryphon does.
Regardless of the decisions I do want to state that allying with one partner or another won't deny one's ideology. Ember and the dragons can still be harmonic even if they are aligned with the changelings or to become fascist if they are aligned with the Equestrians. Tough times make for tough decisions after all and the world's view on the dragons will remain more or less the same in the end. They will sadly forever be viewed as a proud but power hungry primitive people and left out of the "room where it happens" when the time comes.
Hopefully this idea was interesting to think about and sorry for the text block. I'll try to keep it short from here on out.