The "Tourist"

by Monochrome-1

Chapter Four: Old Regrets and Answers.

The sound of the train’s whistle refocused Zephyr back into reality with a gasp. Where was he? What time was it? What was he doing? And why did his arms, legs and his eyes feel so stiff? It had only been about a minute or two since he settled down to wait but the train had already begun to slow down as it made what he presumed to be the train’s first stop. What had happened to him since he had sat down?

Taking a moment to recollect himself and avoiding the startled stares from the people around him in the train’s cabin as they began to make their way out, Zephyr searched his person and suitcase for answers.

“Right okay, travel guide, passport, cash, compass, and a scribbled note on where to go from here,” Zephyr muttered to himself as he went through his things. “And oh hey, here’s the pocket mirror I brought from home, I wonder what I look like now.”

As it turns out, not that well. Dead and tired eyes with a gaunt face to match looked back to Zephyr as he looked at the mirror itself. His hair had grown long and unkempt with the only thing that kept it together was the loose ponytail that he now had, and the stubble on his face had grown into an unkempt beard. Both of which when combined gave him the impression of a homeless and dirty vagrant.

Yeah I guess that’s why Ms. Coffin was so nice to me along with the others, he thought to himself as he ran his hands through his face before sighing. The past worry that he had towards his appearance had faded away long ago due to the circumstances that he had been through. They probably thought I was some sort of hobo or refugee down on their luck when they saw me. I wonder if the rest of me matches the descriptions.

Scooting a bit in his seat and closer to the window for the sake of privacy Zephyr reached underneath his shirt with one of his arms to feel his torso, and when he did he noted how easily he could feel his ribs. With each and every one poking out from his flesh and feeling like they were stretching it out. One, two, three, four, five, feels like I'm running my hands across a xylophone.

He repeated the same process for his collarbones and shoulders and noted how thin they were with the lack of muscle they had. To anyone that looked at Zephyr since he had arrived they would notice that while his clothes were clean and wellkept, they now loosely hung on his frame in the same manner that a child would dress a scarecrow

Well, it is what it is I guess, he thought to himself as he closed the pocket mirror and put it away in his suitcase. I can probably fix this uhhh, he gestured a bit to his face for a moment before sighing and getting up to follow the crowd, well….eventually. Honestly, I should probably get off seeing as it’s my stop.

And looking around when he got off he was greeted by an array of houses aligned together near the train stop made from wood and stone. Some of which he noted were made for the size of people like and made out of simple wood. Their walls and lawns are decorated with fountains, sculptures, and gardens. Most of whom he noted were reminiscent of the bone sculptures. In that they often depicted triumphant dragons battling their enemies, greetings objects, and often standing triumphant. Those that weren’t had the strange effect that he saw before. With them

Hmph, he noted to himself as he looked at a fountain of a dragon nestled in a hoard of treasure and from the center of which spouted a geyser of water, guess the tradition of painting yourself in a good light isn’t just limited to bone carvings.

“But I’m not here to sight see for now, “he said to himself as he got out the compass, noted the directions, and began to follow it from the village to its outskirts and beyond there into the forests. “Let’s see if Stonetalon was lying to me or not. Hopefully he was, because if he did I’m not sis can save me this time.”

It was strangely relaxing going through the forest as Zephyr walked through it. His leather soled boots crunching fallen leaves, twigs, sticks, and anything underneath his feet. The weather itself at the moment was mild with a faint overcast of clouds blocking the sun and a light cool coastal breeze to go along with it.

Nothing like home in the past few months, Zephyr thought to himself as he made his way over a heavy branch while holding his compass in one hand along with his suitcase in the other. Nothing like it at all with the acidic clouds we had when factories starting overtime for the war effort and the drafts began.

With that thought Zephyr couldn't put out a scoff and a sigh. The glorious and peaceful past that Equestria had seemed so far away that it felt almost like a childish dream. Why? Because it simply felt so far away by now. Only a fool could imagine a world in which everyone lived in peace and harmony when they could only dream of.

I wonder how Fluttershy is doing nowadays, Zephyr thought to himself as he skirted around a puddle. Probably still doing that research work she told me she was doing when she handed her house over to me to stay in.

He paused for a moment as a memory flashed through his head. The fatalistic shine in her eyes, the hollow tone in her voice, and the morbid fascination that she had now for science. She was different now, and something had done to her, but what it was exactly Zephyr didn’t know.

The only thing he had for a clue was the laboratory job that she had picked up during the war. The details of which he barely knew anything about. Only that her job was important, it ate her time, and it often left her exhausted beyond belief. Exhausted enough for her to start drinking for relief, heavily. Heavily enough that during the few times that she visited him there was a good chance that she was plastered. Oftentimes rambling about quota's, target’s, and a question that he did not have an answer for and still didn’t today.

Well, I hope she’s okay in that lab of hers, Zephyr concluded his thoughts as he eventually saw the tree come into his line of sight. Hopefully when everything’s over she’ll be okay.

Coming across the tree he noticed that it was large, tall, and bone white, its stark paleness making it entirely unique from its brethren. Surrounding it and on its base of similarly colored stones that eventually formed into a trail that led deeper within the forest. One that was thankfully shaded thanks to the thick branches and tree’s overhead.

“Hmph, well there's the trail I guess,” Zephyr said to himself as he took note of it. “I have the path, the time, and the direction, the only thing left to do is follow it. Hopefully it won’t take too long.”

And strangely it didn’t. Zephyr took one step, then two, four, eight, sixteen, and so on and so forth until eventually time flowed like water and he suddenly found himself standing in front of the cave All the while feeling like he had just fallen asleep only to be rudely awoken mid-dream.

“Gagh,” he mumbled to himself as he looked around confused, and just noticed that he was in front of the cave that StoneTalon had spoken of. “Why am I here now? Didn't I just start walking moments ago?

Trying to make some sense of the newfound feeling and guided out of instinct he tried to recall the past, but they felt…loose on the matter. He could remember faint events happening as he tried to think about it: him stepping on branches, walking over boulders, looking at the shaded canopy provided by the tree’s, and dragging his suitcase along but not much else.

Overall it felt like he was talking to Discord or being around them back home. Him barely remembering the day’s, doing things, having things done to him, recovering from them and not knowing why he was here or how to do them in the first place. Day’s, weeks, and he swore months could pass by through the time that he was there only interrupted by his self-loathing, demeanor at the time, and the occasional interruption from his sister.

“Hmph, probably Discord’s doing I guess,” he grumbled to himself as he shook his head awake before looking around at the cave, “honestly wouldn't put it past him with the things that he’s done to me.

Well at the very least it doesn't seem to be troublesome so far, he thought to himself as he looked around the cave’s entrance, hopefully it doesn't get worse than th- huh, well StoneTalon wasn’t lying I guess about the sculptures.

Looking around the entrance of the cave itself, one fit for a giant, Zephyr could see various totems and statues made from bone and stone littered around the base of the entrance. A few of the totems and statues were around Zephyr’s height being at around five feet tall, most were ten feet, and others were larger being at around fifteen feet tall or more. And that which featured garish depictions and caricatures of creatures being slaughtered wholesale in vivid and colored detail. For example looking at one of the items near the entrance Zephyr could see a slab that was carved onto it was the violent death of an armored contingent of knights. With them screaming and wailing as a blast of dragonfire ran through their ranks melting their armor and flesh like wax.

“Hmph, a bit too morbid for my tastes, but I’ll give them points for getting the look of the flesh right, “ Zephyr muttered to himself as he looked at it before paying his attention towards the mouth of the cave. “Thankfully there's more here than just sculptures of people dying.”

And there was, because looking within Zephyr could notice that the cave itself was almost made entirely of crystal. With multicolored spikes and spars of the material jutting from the floor, the walls, and the ceiling while they all gave a soft multicolored glow. The light coming off of them was enough so that he could ahed for a few but but nothing more than that. .

Well at the very least I’ll be able to see my way through here, he thought to himself as he stood in front of the cave. . Find my way to the librarian, meet them, and then what?”
His mind came up blank. He made his way here on a train, stopped at a train, made his way through a forest to a tree, followed a trail, and for what? To check out a book? It wasn’t like he was going to be able to return it. To read? Maybe? But that didn’t feel right either. There was bound to be other libraries or librarians within The isles, ones that in turn were most likely

He gave a shrug. I’ll figure it out when I meet them, Zephyr thought to himself as he made his way into the cave. Out of curiosity he touched one of the spar’s as he made his way through, and as he felt its warmth he could feel parts of him fade away.

Great not again, Zephyr thought to himself as he rubbed his eyes in an attempt to try to clear the static that was slowly dissipating now that he refocused himself sometime later. This is probably going to be a recurring thing isn’t it, he finished his thoughts with a sigh before he looked around the cavern to see where he was.

The place itself was carved from smoothed stone and lit with the same light that he could see earlier when he entered. It softly glowing and revealing to him a hoard fit for an elder dragon within: cut or raw gems the size of his head or grapefruits, coins and ingots made from precious metals, sealed jars filled with what zephyr could guess to be spices or perfumes, flawless or incomplete statues of ancient historical figures whose names Zephyr could not recall, and countless trinkets and baubles from around the world.

The cavern itself, from what little Zephyr could see that wasn’t covered by treasure, was a beauty to behold and whose scale could only be described as monstrous. Its floor and walls polished to shine that reflected the various colors from the treasure around it in a prismatic and unique display of colors, and its wall’s reached so high that looking up to see it made Zephyr dizzy.

But none of it did anything to obscure the figure that sat nestled within the center of it who was reading a scroll. An emphasis on was, as they now currently looked at Zephyr with the same curiosity a man might have for seeing a brave mouse walk around their home in broad daylight.

Their face and body was androgynous, with no marks or features lending them to be described to one gender or to the other. But on that face a thin scar wove its way across the center of their face nearly splitting them in half and from it sprang ruin. Tremor lines and crack lines sprung from it and ran across their skin and underneath their scales and flesh as if they were dried earth and clay. Squinting for focus Zephyr could still see the faint hints of what he could suspect to be currents of molten rock still running underneath them.

Moving onto their clothing, they were clad in a simple pleated linen dress that ran to their feet that was dyed in a heavy dark gray. On their back they wore a cloak made from silk whose shoulders were embroidered with bronze scales. They also wore jewelry made from precious metals from head to toe, from a simple set of earrings made from electrum, rings made from gold, to engraved armbands and horn caps made from silver. All of which Zephyr could see held similar depictions that he saw on the entrance of the cave. And apart from that no flaw, no mark, and no blemish could be seen upon either their clothing nor the jewelry that they wore. Nothing except for the faint smell of fresh ink, dust, leather, and wood.

A moment passed between the two with Zephyr looking at the librarian, or at least what he hoped to be them, and the librarian looking at him in return. Nothing happened, nothing ensued. Only a staring contest between a possibly millennial old being whose home was filled with treasure and a man that had little to none.

“Uhm hello,” Zephyr said with a bit of hesitation as he waved a hand towards the distant figure hoping that they could see and hear them. “My name is uhh Zephyr, and I heard that you were a librarian of sorts and I was wondering if I could look through your collection or something!”

No response, instead merely the rise of an eyebrow from the dragon's face.

Geeze this reminds me of when I was in the artisan’s shop, Zephyr thought to himself as a few lines of sweat ran down his face, hopefully I don’t get plucked this time.

“Well uhh, I’m gonna come in if that’s okay with you,” he offered up as he slowly walked inside the cavern with his left arm held up in a gesture of peace. “I’m not gonna steal anything if you're wondering, I'm not a thief, I'm just some random guy looking for someone to talk to, to maybe answer some questions, and hopefully read a book or two from.”

Seeing no opposition or response from the dragon Zephyr went in, carefully picking and hiking his way through the hoard as he made his way closer. All the while they simply watched them as they held their scroll in hand, only casting an occasional glance or two while Zephyr continued

Getting there was slow, it was a bit painful as he slipped more than a few times on an errant crown or scepter, but he reached it eventually. Making his through to a flat clearing of treasure where a number of scrolls, tablets, and stone carvings whose size fit the giant were around the place.

“Hmhmh, well uh scratch that last part,” Zephyr said when he finally reached the giant and pointed to one of the few items in the clearing that were sized for him, an ancient clay tablet that was written in a language that he suspected was older than modern Equestria. “I’m not actually sure I can do that last one unless you want to read what it says to me.”

“Not entirely at the moment," the elder dragon said with an amused smile in Equestrian as it gestured to the tablet that Zephyr pointed to. “I still have quite a lot of reading to catch up on ever since I woke up twenty years ago, so I wouldn't want to waste the time that i have now reading,” they stopped for a moment and shifted their head slightly to look at it, “a tablet that describes how to make willow bark tea for you. I’m sure you know how to do that already.”

“I uhh…I guess so,” Zephyr replied with a slight grin and a nod thankful for the dragon’s response “Is there anything that you can do for me right now?”

“Well, I believe I can take a moment or two to answer a question if you have them,” they answered, rolling up the scroll that they held and putting it away to their side. “It’s been a while since I've had a visitor, so free to ask this old dragon whatever is on your mind.”

“Great!” Zephyr said with a smile that quickly dissipated as he realized he didn’t really know what to ask the dragon. Why did he even come here in the first place anyway? Because he was bored? Plus what could he even ask them anyway? He still didn’t know what to ask as he didn’t exactly have the time to dwell on it. So what could he ask them? Where to go next? That question is better for a shopkeeper, not what he presumed to be a dragon that was over a few thousand years old. So what? Maybe the hoard? That was a good start, there were a lot of books, scrolls, and tablets like that in this place anyway. You weren’t called a librarian for nothing.

“Well I guess my first question is, how did you get all of this stuff in the first place?” Zephyr asked as he pointed to the gargantuan pile of scrolls next to the dragon.

“Traded for it,” the dragon answered as they scooped up a handful of treasure from around their hoard before letting it spill from their hands. “There are a number of us who consider books and such to be items that are not worthy to be compared to gold and silver, and because of that they are willing to trade for it in return for more ordinary treasure.”

“I see,” Zephyr said as he took a moment to sit down and looked at a nearby pile of gold that was worth more than he would ever make in his life. Now curious as the old dragon tradition wormed into his head and with it bringing curiosity. “Why do you guys collect treasure anyway?”

“Many reasons,” they said, scratching their chin in deep thought for a few moments. ”But I suppose a few to be noted is that it is non-perishable, it is clean, and it is sturdy. What treasure I collect here I am sure will be in the same state that they will be in a hundred years from now. Metal is imperishable after all and if I collected grain I would only attract rats and vermin.” If I collect grain then while they may not rot due to the influence that I have on this place, I am sure that they will attract all kinds of vermin to my hoard.”

“Mhmh I guess, “Zephyr accepted the answer begrudgingly. “But that doesn't really explain it, you know?” he continued pointing around him. “ I mean I sorta get the idea of it is that you collect it so that you want to be rich and powerful, but there has to be something more to it than just…this you know?”

“I mean look around us!” he said, grabbing a jeweled crown that once belonged to a gryphonian king and waving it in front of a dragon, “there's enough treasure here that I don’t even know what you can do with it apart from having the world’s most expensive bed! So is there something behind this hoarding and all?” Zephyr began to finish as he dropped the crown, “or is it just me hallucinating that?”

The dragon only wearily sighed when they heard that, their entire body deflating as they took a look around them in contempt. Zephyr meanwhile stayed silent as he waited for a reply.

“Yes, that is a good question,” they mumbled to themselves before looking down at Zephyr. “It is one that I can partially provide an answer to, but it is a long one, would you be willing to hear it?”

“Go ahead,” Zephyr said as he made himself comfortable. “I’m not exactly going anywhere for a while.”

“Very well,” the dragon said as they looked around themselves for a moment before grabbing a scroll and unfurling a part of it to Zephyr. It showed a simple picture of a young dragon standing on top of a small pile of treasure proudly.

“To begin, I suppose let us start with a brief answer to the main thing,” they said, clicking their claws together. “Many of us hoard and aspire to gain treasure for the same reasons that you mortals may wish to do so. Because it benefits us, because it is shiny, it gains us prestige, and of course we can buy things with it. The industry and the wealth that we have here is dismal compared to say the south, the west, or the east who are all rich in comparison. Risking our lives and in turn the lives of others so we may become wealthy without much effort is natural for us .Especially if one wishes to stay independent, see the world, and wishes to make use of the natural talents that one has,” they finished momentarily puffin a thick cloud of ashy air and flexing a hand filled with muscle.

“Right, I get that,” Zephyr acknowledged with a nod recalling his lessons on why mercenaries or bandits became what they are. “But that doesn't answer the question of why so much wealth?”

“Raiding is expensive, it is costly, and it is risky,” they replied. “We dragons are long lived creatures and thus we have a lot to lose if we were to die. Wishing to gain a lot of wealth to ensure that one is rich and powerful throughout it is a natural goal.”

They paused for a second sensing Zephyr’s slight frustration at the answer which didn’t feel like it answered a lot.

“I am sorry but I have no more answer to that question of why so much wealth,” they tried to explain with a look of insularity. “We gather wealth for the same reasons you gather wealth, because we desire power and enough will never be enough.”

There was another pause between the two, with Zephyr’s face scrunching in frustration, and the dragon looking somewhat bashful and embarrassed for a giant. It was clear something was being hidden and not wished to be talked about.

Sensing it and having little self preservation, Zephyr raised an eyebrow, and made a motion to press the dragon when they spoke, breaking the silence. His eyes squinting together in the hopes that he would manage to scrape together some bit of power that his sister had with the stare. Something of which he suspected she developed to get him to do his laundry.

Nothing happened for a bit, only a staring contest ensued as a human stared at a dragon that could tear him in a few seconds, and the same dragon looking at them back with an eyebrow raised in curiosity. But slowly, ever so slowly, whether it was out of curiosity for the little human or through sheer coincidence the dragon eventually broke.

“But, that is who we are as a people and as a culture, I am going to assume that you wish to know of those who truly embody the stories that you hear about, yes?” they asked, letting out what seemed like a pained breath. “The ones who grow mad and build treasure hoards that can fund nations?”

Zephyr nodded.

“Then the answer shifts from one of culture or personal desire and into one of mentality,” they said with a sigh before looking through their scroll for a moment.

“Something of which I will denote is the disease of the mind,” they started again, unfurling the scroll and showcasing the silhouette of a young dragon looking star struck at the hoard of another. “Because it is associated with the fact that we as living beings, all of us including you and, have a consciousness and we are cursed with having emotions, memory, free will, and in turn with it the possibility of being affected by those things.”

“We dragons are I would say more affected by emotion, our actions, and in turn by our minds than perhaps you people are,” they explained gesturing towards the scroll again. “For us the emotions we feel, the desires we have, and the way we act can very much affect us as who we are as people. For example take the artisans, they are people that simply wish to improve the craft that they are within, and thus they are able to do so with alacrity and a single minded passion towards such a thing. Tirelessly practicing, learning, making, and in turn being able to do so for years at a time without even a thought towards much else.”

“Sounds like something you have to be careful about,” Zephyr said with a wince at the thought of him having a passion for hairdressing and that simply trapping him within it for years at a time.

“Yes yes, very much so,” the dragon agreed. “We dragons are creatures prone to obsession and in turn the highs and lows of emotions and thought. When we feel sorrowful and filled with grief we are able to produce tears that are like oil, and influence the others around us to do so in kind. When we become angry we are able to move mountains and produce hellish gouts of breath that can melt nearly any substance, and when we feel joyful the world can seem to sing to us in delight.”

“The ways in which we act, think, and feel in our day to day lives affects us not only on a physical level but a spiritual one as well,” he summarized with a smile. “I think and act therefore I am if you wish to quote an old scholar.”

“I guess,” Zephyr said with a shrug and noting it for later. “But that still doesn't go int-”

“Yes I am getting to that, if I did not explain what I just did then you would not understand what I will say next” they said tersely and with a flare of annoyance as they shifted the scroll they had in their hands for a moment.

“As we are creatures that are affected by emotions, there is one type that influences everyone in the world, especially us dragons,” they said as they showcased the dragon now looking at the hoard they had previously with contempt. “Sin.”

“Sin?” Zephyr asked, confused at the term. “What do you mean by sin?”

“Sin,” the dragon said as if the word was enough to describe it itself. “Emotions that can be interpreted to corrupt a creature all by themselves: gluttony, envy, lust, sorrow, wrath, pride, sloth, and all of the others that I am sure that you are well aware of.”

The dragon shifted the scroll again this time for the dragon on the scroll running while carrying a sack of treasure. This time their body had changed to become larger, stronger, and strangely as Zephyr looked at it almost more feral and savage.

“The want to grow one's hoard I suppose can be the easiest way for it to manifest,” they continued pointing at the illustration. “Due to the culture that we are within we can easily find ourselves overwhelmed by sin such as being envious of what others have, sorrowful at what we do not, and thus acting on it in rash ways. This is fine to a degree, and it is simply mortal nature to feel sin much less be influenced by it, but it can easily overwhelm a person if they are not careful or simply by ones events that they are not in control of.”

They moved the scroll for a moment, now showcasing an empty hoard where the dragon now looked horrified at. The treasure sack they had carried on their back now seemingly worthless.

“If I had to pick two things in particular I would say trauma and obsession is what turns us into the creatures that you know of stranger,” they lamented as they pointed towards the illustration on the scroll. “For those two are the easiest I would say of things that can allow sin to whisper in our ears and unlock the keys to our hearts, and in doing so turning us into nothing more than mindless beasts plagued and defined by sin.”

The dragon moved the scroll but this time instead of stopping they merely moved it and thereby showing a primitive animatic film to Zephyr. With the dragon in the illustration still looking at the treasure that they had now with envy and in turn with their eyes filled with the fires of gluttony and sorrow. They were sad at what had transpired to them and to their hoard, yes, devastated, of course, but they would not be destroyed here, they would remake their hoard to the state it once was and from there surpass it to beyond their wildest dreams.

From there a sequence of events played out. With the dragon now simply filling the hoard that they had with the treasure that they had looted, leaving for a moment, coming back with more, and adding it to the hoard again and again. With each time that the dragon returned to leave and to add to their hoard they became larger, stronger, and thereby more feral. All the while they became riddled with scars, stained with blood, and clearly degenerating from their two legged form into a hunch backed creature. Something of which Zephyr easily recognized to be the dragon’s that were in the stories that he had heard about. Monster’s that were obsessed with gathering wealth and power.

“This,” the dragon said with a sad smile as they unfurled the last of the scroll now showcasing an archetypal dragon balefully looking at the viewer surrounded by mountains of gold, “is our curse. It is the curse of the mind and it is what makes us into the monsters in the stories that you read. I will state for clarification that we are not limited to the simple act of growing our hoards and turning into protective beasts guarding it for centuries, but as I have said it is what we pride ourselves most on, and it is a common thing that I suppose that can occur to us.”

“But why does this happen?” Zephyr mumbled out half knowing the question already. “Why do you let this happen to yourselves?”

“We do not always have a choice, Zephyr,” the dragon explained with a sigh. “We cannot control what the world has done to us or how we react, but in turn I can say that for those of us who either choose or wish for such a thing to happen to themselves the answer is simple.”

“What is it?” Zephyr said.

“Because he who makes a beast of himself gets rid of the pain of being a man,“ the dragon answered as they put away the scroll. “In times of desperation one may wish to see themselves to turn into a beast so they may forget being a man, and thus cursed with the affliction of having a mind.”

“I guess,” Zephyr said with a sigh as he rubbed his eyes all too aware of what the man said.

Another moment of science between the two passed as the weight of the answer pressed in on the room. With Zephyr still contemplating what the dragon said and the dragon merely waiting for the next question.

“Is there any way to stop it?” Zephyr asked eventually and with clear hesitation.

“Stop what?” the dragon asked with a feigned confusion.

“Stop what you just said,” Zephyr answered waving a hand in general. “Everything, the corruption, the sin, the being overwhelmed by it all, just,“ he paused with a sigh he didn’t know what to say next,” just, everything.”

The dragon didn’t reply but only hummed to itself in thought.

“I know that you people are the ones who feel it the most,” Zephyr continued. “But we feel it as well, maybe not in the same way that you dragons do, but I promise you that we do, so I'm wondering if you have an answer for it. Is there a way to stop it or are we cursed to be like,” he started to gesture to himself in contempt and self-loathing, but after a pause he gestured to the scroll instead, “that, the moment we feel it.”

There was no answer from the dragon.

“Is there an answer?” Zephyr asked again in desperation. Already he could feel the countless mistakes that he had made in the past claw at his mind, the years that he had wasted that were swallowed up by sin and fear bubble within his gut, and the regret that he felt for it all demanded an answer. An answer that either he did not know or that he forgot.

“Please tell me if you can,” he whispered more to himself rather than the dragon. “Because I don’t know it.”

Another set of silence, with the dragon merely humming to himself and Zephyr impatiently waiting for an answer. He was just about to leave as his patience was about to break before the dragon spoke again.

“Yes there is an answer,” the dragon said with a nod but with a furrowed expression on its face. “But I promise you it is not one that you are going to like.”

“What do you mean?” Zephyr asked somewhat confused by the answer.

“Because I can see what you want,” the dragon answered, looking at him. “You want a magic arrow to what plagues your heart, but you will not find such an answer from me.

“I can give you an answer that will work, but not one that will be easy,” they said, pursing their lips for a moment before they continued. “Are you okay with that Mr. Zephyr?”

Was he? Zephyr didn’t know. Having a magic bullet would fix the problems that he knew he had would be great, but it wasn’t one that he was going to get, at least not now.

But maybe hearing the dragon out would still be worth it. An answer that wasn’t a magic bullet was still an answer after all, but could he even work on it? He knew he had this discussion before with his sister, his past councilor when he was in college, and his parents more time than he can count and nothing happened in the end. Nothing happened at all except for him falling for same bad things that he had inside of himself. Whether it was the fear that he had for the world around him and the possibility of failure along with its consequences, the self-loathing that he had for himself in the things that he knew he couldn't do yet or his lack of skill, the envy that he had for his sister in how she was so important to the world while he knew he wasn’t, the misplaced pride and vanity he shielded himself with so he wouldn't feel anything anymore, and the sloth.

Oh the sloth, that was a problem that he knew he had, or at least what everyone around him told him. He was too lazy to put himself anywhere in the world, too lazy to work hard to get what he wanted, too lazy to do this, to do that, to fix himself, and to be someone more than who he was. He wanted to be good, to be something that his family would be proud of…but…he just couldn't, not right now, and maybe never.

Maybe…maybe it would be better to not to fix it after all. At least not now, he was okay right now. He kept his worser impulses in check and the fear kept him from charging headfirst into a war and getting himself killed. Maybe if he just let it be it would keep him going, it would keep him safe.

Or maybe…it wouldn't. Didn’t this happen before? What with his fear of this and that striving from a single incident? What even was that anyway? He didn’t remember anymore, but he could certainly feel its effects still clawing away at him now. It prevented him from staying more than a few weeks in classes because he was terrified of failing. It prevented him from talking to anyone that wasn’t in the weird way that he did it for fear of being refused and it made talking to his family become a near impossibility because of what he knew he had done to him when he could remember.

If…if…if he was a dragon would he have turned by now into a monster like the ones in the book? Would he still be him? Would the fear or his worser impulses eaten away at him by now? Or would he have stayed just being him? Would it be worth it? He didn’t know. That question just confused him and made him feel bad inside.

Zephyr didn’t respond to the dragon’s question, he only looked down at the ground, his face a stark picture of sorrow, regret, and hesitation. The dragon merely looked on with sympathy before it spoke.

“Why did you ask me this question?” the dragon asked Zephyr. “I understand the first in which you desired the answer for me and my kin’s predicament, but not the second, why did you ask me this?”

“Because I've done a lot of bad things and that I have a problem inside of me,” Zephyr responded hoarsely. “I was hoping that I dunno, that I could fix it?” he continued. “Fix this cycle that I’m in where I keep running away, keep taking advantage of people, and keep being who I am now?”

He fished through his pocket before he eventually pulled out a compass as he looked at it.

“Because not that long ago I was in a situation where I had to make a choice,” Zephyr said, looking at the compass and watching it spin and spin. “Where I had to choose between a terrible decision that would get me killed in a few weeks and another one that did the same thing because of the world that I lived in and the consequences of my choices.”

He flicked it absentmindedly watching it spin once before he sighed. “I chose neither, I chose to run away again, and I asked a friend, or well not really a friend, just someone whose face I knew for help, and they did. They did help in their own way a lot and I'm thankful for that, but a part of me knows that the reason why they helped me wasn't out of the kindness of their own heart, but pity. Pity for the pathetic shell of a man that stood in front of them begging for help,” he finished with a sniffle. “Pity for someone like me who has trouble taking care of themselves and needs their family to fix their problems again.”

“I see,” the dragon said with a nod. “And you sought to fix the dilemma that you are in with the answer that I can give you?”

“Maybe?” Zephyr said with a chuckle before throwing a hand around him. “ I don’t know. It would be better than being here at least. Talking to a dragon who's older than the city I was born in, being far away from home with no way to ever return to it, having a family who secretly hates me for the way that I am, and being unable to do anything about it.”

“But,” he said, his face darkening again as he looked down. “I’m not sure if I'm strong enough to fix myself, or if the world is right for someone like me to even do such a thing in the first place. I mean the world is at war, suffering is everywhere, and children back home are being plucked from their homes to be thrown headfirst into the fires of war. I don’t think a world like that will accept a person like me wanting to do the things I want to do.”

“Maybe, maybe the world is not right yet to act or if you are strong enough to do such things yet,” the dragon said with a nod. “I do not know, but you’ve made it this far haven’t you?”

“Hmmh?” Zephyr said looking up.

“I mean, you’ve kept your wits about you, you know your faults, and you wish to amend them,” the dragon started. “You may not be strong enough now, or as you said the world may not be ready for a man or a woman to act in the desires of their own heart. With them now only seeking to punish whoever falls out of line with an iron hand, but that doesn't mean they won’t allow them to act one day.”

“And when that day comes,” the dragon continued, “perhaps you’ll be ready. You’ll either be strong enough to move through the world and to carve your own path while amending the mistakes of your past, or the world will allow you to act on your own desires.”

“But,” the dragon stressed, holding up a finger. “That requires knowledge of the answer.” The finger turned into an open palm. “And are you willing to hear it?”

Zephyr thought about it before eventually he sighed. “What do I have to lose,” he said despondently with a half hearted smile. “It’s just words right now anyway. It’s not like I'll be using them anytime soon.”

“Very well,” the dragon accepted Zephyr’s answer with a smile. “To overcome the sins and the trauma of the past, to not be corrupted by them, one must face them.”

“That’s it?” Zephyr said in disbelief interrupting the dragon. “You just have to face them? I’ve done that more times than I can count, I mean, I know I'm not a good person, and that hasn’t done anything for me so far.”

“Let me continue,” the dragon said patiently waiting for Zephyr to stop, which they did after a moment. “One must not only face the sins that one has to avoid being corrupted by them, but to acknowledge them as well. It is to admit the selfish desires that one has, the mistakes that led them there, why they did it, and what could be done to avoid it. “

“But that’s not enough in the path of facing one’s sins to overcome them,” the dragon continued. “It’s not enough. Many men and women in this world know the sins that they have made, what they have done, and what could be done to overcome them, but they do not improve, why?”

Zephyr made a motion to ask, but before he could the dragon answered themselves.

“Because one must also have the desire and in turn the strength to act if they ever wish to overcome their sins,” the dragon answered. “The man harrowed by trauma and who takes to the bottle to avoid the past must have the strength to open their heart to it, to take that pain within themselves, and to still stand at the end of it if they ever wish to be rid of it.”

“Because if not,” the dragon continued,” they will die a hollow husk at the end of their miserable and terrible life wishing for the simple act of having never lived. To avoid this fate one must be willing to face the sins that one has within them, to acknowledge the mistakes that one has made, what can be done to overcome them, to accept the consequences that come with it, and to have the strength along with the desire to act.”

“That,” the dragon said looking at Zephyr with a solemn look,” is how one avoids corruption, that is how one can avoid being turned into a monster, and that is the answer you seek. It is an answer that will hurt you, it is an answer that can take years to fully implement or to gather the courage to take the first step, it is an answer whose path you will have to learn on your own, but it is an answer I promise you will work.”

“Because he who makes a beast of himself forgets the pain of being a man, but he who embraces it becomes divine,” they finished with a smile. “It is a rare act, but it is one that if performed is worthwhile.”

Zephyr only gave a wordless nod to the dragon along with an exhale before he began to stand up and brush himself off.

“Well thank you for the answer,” he said after he finished and grabbed his suitcase. “I’m not sure if I’ll be ready to do it yet like you said earlier, but maybe one day I will.”

Zephyr fished through his pockets before he grabbed his compass and looked at it before sighing. “And when that day comes hopefully it’ll all be alright.”

The dragon smiled in return, “well then I wish you the best of luck with that stranger.”

They gestured now towards the exit, “I would advise to leave now while you still can. I believe I have nothing more to offer you and I am sure that by now you have no interest in reading my books.

Zephyr agreed with a nod and began to make the motions to leave: patting himself down just to check in case he forgot anything, making sure his hat was on his head, and his suitcase was in his hand. But before he could even start taking more than a few steps the dragon spoke again.

“If it helps you, we are not the only ones that are capable of falling to corruption,” the dragon offered to Zephyr. “They,” it said for emphasis, “are very much capable of it as well.”

“Who?” Zephyr asked, turning around curiously.

“The Twin Monarch’s along with the many self proclaimed deities on this world course,” they answered with a smile. “They are very much capable of falling to trauma and sin as well.”

“Like Nightmare Moon?” Zephyr guessed, cocking his head to the side.

“Not just her,” the dragon half-confirmed with a terse frown upon their face. “The other as well. She makes a good effort of hiding it, but let me assure you, that she is just as susceptible as the other if not more. And if pressure is applied along with heat she will bend and break just like the other.”

“After all,” they said with a smile pointing to the scars that they had. “Who else but her could give me these scars? A wizard? A hero? A magical artifact of yore?” they jokingly asked before giggling. “No,” they answered with a shake of their head. “Nobody else but her could have given me these. So do not worry Mr. Zephyr, you are not alone.”

Zephyr only gave a dull nod as he walked away the dragon as they began laughing. It wasn’t until he left the cave entirely that his thoughts came back.

The monarch of the sun could turn? Zephyr thought to himself bewildered. If so, could she turn during the war along with her sister?

He looked around for a moment to settle himself on reality when he found something in the corner of his eyes. Moving towards it he found a small bone idol of a ferocious winged figure wreathed in blazing fire and armored in a heavy plate. One whose eyes were filled with nothing but wrath and contempt.

Wordlessly and without much thought Zephyr pocketed it before he walked away from the cave and back to the train station, his mind wandering away on what to do next.

Author's Note:

Fun fact: Did you know this chapter went through more or less three to four total rewrites and took more than three months to write? It was a doozy to write to say the least.
Otherwise yeah, lot of lore in this one. I like to imagine the dragons are usually okay with dealing with such a thing by themselves as a united people? You either need someone that understands you enough to pull you out of it when such a thing begins to occur or you need someone with a big enough club or sword to knock you out right then and there. With either instance easily being solved by living with your peers who would be more than happy to do either.
Another thing that was talked lightly about in the last chapter is the idea of their 'curse' spreading to non-dragons through mere chance and long-term exposure. Something of which i'm sure has caused the idea of 'dragon greed', draconic cults, and more then a few 'mad artists' to appear in the world. Hopefully it's an interesting one.