Fo:E Xenophobia

Chapter Five: Tall Tales
"Trust is only a weapon to those who wield lies."

Deceit.

I spent the following morning with the ponies of the caravan. I would have been deceiving myself if I told myself I understood why Flynt had helped me. I got the distinct impression I was not rightly welcome. The ponies scowled at my appearance and the ones who did not look at me with disdain were outwardly frightened at my presence. Fillies and colts stared at me as if I were some kind of rare spectacle. I was even more out of place than I had been back in Xenolith. At least the condescending looks I got there were deserved while the only thing I had done to these ponies was have the audacity to wear a different style of coat.

I had just helped save those two children as well. In truth I had not done much aside from drawing the fire of the raider ponies although I had no reason to believe any of these ponies knew this. Surrounded by such deep seeded animosity I could not explain why Flynt saved me back there, never mind insisting to take me here to recover. My leg was mostly healed and my body was as rested as it was going to get. I planned on relieving myself of these uncouth creatures as early as possible. I had enough of silently being ostracized so I set out for the perimeter of the camp.

With my back to one of the exterior wagons I sat on my haunches. I consumed one of my apple rations and washed it down with the remaining water from my first bottle. A check of my auto map indicated I was now about a half day trot from Hornet's tag and I planned to get there today barring anymore encounters with the savage beasts of the wasteland. I was confident in the protection of my invisibility cloak. My only real threat was my own carelessness.

A tall shadow stretched before me from the side of the wagon. I just wanted to be left alone.

"So what's yer deal stripeback?" I heard Flynt say as he sat down on the adjacent corner of the wagon. He lit an odd white stick and flipped it into his mouth. He offered a package of them to me from around the corner. Not knowing anything of this particular custom I decided against it.

"No thank you," I declined waving him off.

Flynt inhaled on the white stick causing the embers at the tip to burn brightly. He exhaled a puff of smoke from his nostrils which for a moment reminded me of the late Zora and her smoker saddle. I had only known her for a few of days and now she was dead. I had not had any time to mourn her or any of the other losses. Zurma's detachment deserved better. I needed to get back to Xenolith as soon as possible to let the tribe know what happened to us and set the record right.

"Ya know I got to thinkin' last night," Flynt said interrupting my train of thought. "Why in the hell would a stripeback like you, or anypony for that matter, be crossin' The Bitterness alone and trottin' himself inta the heart of a notorious raider den?"

I face hoofed. I had not really had an answer for him. The only reason I ended up there was because I had been an idiot. I was not in the mood for a conversation so I remained unspoken. I hoped the silver maned pony would just give up and go away.

"Oh I get it," Flynt continued not getting the hint I wanted him to leave, "You must be the strong silent type. Well listen stranger I spoke to Cruise told 'er what happened with those raiders. She said yer welcome to come along with us to Vanhoover." Flynt paused taking the stick to his mouth again. "Told 'er I doubted you'd join us but she felt indebted to ya for yer bringin 'er sons back an' she's wantin' to hire ya for the rest of the trip."

"Hire me?" I quizzically responded.

"Yeah. I know protecting caravans ain't really the line of work yer kind do but we lost a couple of the other escorts when the raiders attacked and she can use another gun."

My kind? What did he take me for anyway? While I was appreciative for Flynt's help there was no way I was going to travel anywhere with the likes of ponies. Aside from Flynt and this Cruise individual it was not like any of these ponies wanted me around anyway.

"Flynt I do not wish to sound ungrateful but this is where we must part ways." I said hoping to end this discourse once and for all.

He chuckled to himself breathing out another cloud of smoke, "Well you know work is work stripeback. Once we get to Vanhoover there'll be folks lookin' for yer kind of services." Flynt coughed and let out a hoarse grumble. "But I guess it is what it is. Well before you go," he said as he tossed a pouch to me that landed on the ground next to my hind hooves. It gave a light jangle as it hit the dirt beside me.

"Yer share on the bounty for Viper Fang an' the raiders. Minus your medical expenses of course."

Curious I picked up the bag and looked within to find it held many worn bottle caps resting inside. At first I could not fathom why Flynt would offer me a bag of refuse or what made him think I would want it. Unless of course this was some manner of crude pony humor.

"He got caps?" I remembered. Those were the medical pony's words from the night before. I began piecing the puzzle together in my head. Were these some form currency to them? He was paying me for helping him kill the ponies at the raider camp. How vulgar a practice this was; pony logic was indeed bizarre. Killing for justice was one thing but killing for money was just outright twisted. I found myself at a loss and had no idea how to react. Whatever semblance of a culture these ponies had it was beyond my ability to rationalize.

In the end, despite my unease for this crude pony custom, I tucked the pouch into my saddlebag. I did not like the idea but if these truly could be used in exchange for goods they may very well be useful later on.

"Why were you after those ponies?" I asked feeling a tingle of curiosity.

"Heh, you mean the raiders? Same reason as you stripeback. Cruise hired me an' some other freelancers to guard her caravan from Tenpony Tower to Feathermont. It's one of the longest trade routes in the wasteland after all. Practically from one side to the other. Yesterday Viper Fang and 'er raiders attacked killin' some of the traders an' guards. Then those bastards went an' kidnapped Cruise Missile's colts. Naturally me an the couple of the others went after 'em. Of course it didn't hurt Viper Fang had quite a bounty on 'er as I'm sure you know. Takin' that damn harpy out made for quite a payday for us." Flynt blew out a cloud of smoke that wafted away in the wind.

The ponies of the caravan continued to break down their camp in preparation of the last leg of their journey to Vanhoover. As they dismantled the tarps and ropes of their tents the more pieces of my puzzle were falling into place. Flynt actually thought I had snuck into that place intentionally to kill Viper Fang. Well in a way I sort of had but was out of an idiotic and blind anger not to collect some reward. Therefore if Flynt thought I was trying to kill Viper Fang for the money he must think I was...

"It's just as well I guess," Flynt said, "I ain't too keen about workin' with an assassin."

The light dawned on me just as he said it. Flynt thought I was some kind of hired killer. I thought about it from his prospective and maybe it was not that hard to believe. A had a battle scar, silenced weapon, stealth cloak, and seemingly was hunting down a wanted mare. I felt like I was being made out to be like someone out of a suspense novel.

The gears turned in my head. This Flynt fellow was a warrior in his own right and I needed muscle like him if I was going to survive this wasteland. Yesterday's events were proof enough I could not rely on myself even with my cloak. I was not keen on the idea of traveling with a pony but judging how I was some kind of rarity to them finding the help of one of my own kinsfolk was remarkably unlikely.

If I could use him to get to Hornet I would be home free. If I could bear to be in the company of these ruffians for a little while longer I was sure I could make it happen. Ponies were not very intelligent after all. Manipulating one of them would be easy. A plan was coming together in my mind and I wasted no time putting it into action.

"You are right Flynt," I said dispassionately, "Escorting caravans would not be a job I would normally take. However we did save the lives of those colts and they remain our responsibility until they are safe. That is the way of my people." It was hard for even me to believe what I was spouting. I sounded more like one of the tribe elders than the pitiful sot I was.

He did not respond at first and I feared he may be suspicious of my sudden change of heart.

"Well I'll be damned," Flynt then chortled under his breath as he replied, "Never thought I'd meet a stripeback with such a sense of honor."

"Zythus," I said, "My name is Zythus."

And I was in.

*** *** ***

Good morning class. Today we will be continuing our lesson on the basics of potion brewing. It pleases me to see most of you have completed your assignment. You will find those who chose not to will not be joining us for this or any further lessons. As you know you were each to visit the Stable orchard's garden and gather a sample of the basic alchemy reagents we grow there. Looking around I see many interesting choices you all have made. I shall go around the room and tell you about some of them.

Look upon the green herb Xara has chosen. The Kijani as our ancestors called it is one of the three basic magical plants we use in classical alchemy. In the following weeks we will be seeing this essential ingredient in many of the healing and restoration brews we will be learning. Know this plant well class for it will be the one you will be using most often at this level of study.

Now I see young Quenki chose the Nyekundu plant. Be warned students. This red herb carries with it a malicious intent. This reagent; while we will see some practice with it is used in many harmful potions, poisons, and powders. Handle this plant with extreme caution my students or a swift expulsion from my classroom may be the least of your fears.

Ahh and at last I see someone has brought in the Buluu plant. It is easy to see why a curious student like Xyliel was drawn to it. This is perhaps the most peculiar of the three classical alchemy herbs. It is this blue plant that possesses the power to alter the properties of the matter and magics it is brewed with. The Buluu is a cornerstone of more advanced alchemy studies and those of you who make it that far will have earned the privilege to work with it.

Each of these plants were native to the old zebra homeland. Many the years before the war one of the first zebra to visit Equestria brought with her these enchanted herbs. At first she took these treasures from our native land and sowed them in the forest around her home. As she traveled she planted more. Traders would then take them to all corners of pony lands and soon they would proliferate all across the once fertile Equestrian soil.

Now I am afraid our little tribe holds the last living legacy of these sacred plants. Take heart my students just as the spirits of our ancestors guide us they may one day see these plants flourish again...

Now then excellent work on your assignments my students. Now please turn to page seven in your texts.

The alchemy lessons were providing sufficient distraction from my feigned guard duties. An assassin, I thought, how brilliant. It was the perfect guise to travel with these savages with no fear of them. All I had to do was look firm and keep to myself and no one would think to cross me. No one would guess this sinister killer was nothing more than a father and simple mead brewer. I was a lamb draped in a dragon hide walking amongst the wolves.

There was still a concern. Should the need arise for my presumed services to be rendered my plan would be ruined. Worst case scenario I could escape and try to reach Hornet on my own which was the original plan anyway.

"You would just desert them then?" the light toned voice said.

Ancestors be damned not this again.

"Leave me alone," I grumbled to myself. I was having just about enough of these voices. Hearing them was crazy enough but carrying on with them like they were real people was nothing short of madness. For some reason I continued the internal dialogue despite this realization. It was not like I had anyone else to talk to. "Besides they are only ponies. Why should I care what happens to them?"

The light voice took on a more serious tone, "You are hopelessly selfish Zythus."

"They are ponies," I stressed. "Their ancestors murdered our people in droves. They are a cruel, violent and hateful race. Their welfare is not of my concern."

"And what of Zurma then? Were you not ready to abandon her at the first sight of trouble? Had you not planned to turn tail and save yourself?"

My thoughts stuck in my throat; so to speak. I shrank burying myself in denial.

"That... that was different." I lied.

There was no response.

*** *** ***

The caravan progressed through midday with little incident. A few curious rad-roaches met their end under Flynt's sturdy hooves but thankfully we had not encountered any additional raiders. In the distance we saw the broken remains of a two hundred year old ruin. Its forlorn skyline scattered across the horizon. Cruise Missile informed everyone we had reached the outskirts of what was once Vanhoover. We would be taking a short break before making the final push to a place called Feathermont. She issued a warning to the ponies plus myself that our position was not far from a bandit settlement to the south and to remain on guard.

Cruise was a tan earth pony with a strong rugged frame. She was one of only a few ponies that were tall enough to almost look me in the eye. Her red and orange hued mane complimented her fiery personally. Her cutie-mark was covered by her armored barding not that I was particularly interested in what it was anyway. She addressed the members of her caravan with authority along with uncommon dignity a trait I did not believe these beings were capable of possessing. Her accent differed from that of any of the ponies I had overheard and seemed exotic even to them. Her words were fleeting to my ears though. I was not interested enough to focus or care for what was being said. I groaned looking overhead. The sky was threatening another downpour.

I stepped away from the circle of wagons to see if my PipBuck yielded any new data. I could not believe my luck. Our path through the region known to these ponies as 'The Bitterness' put me remarkably close to the tag father had left on my map. Regrettably judging by the direction we were headed Feathermont was going to put me further away from my objective.

I weighed my options. I was just a few hours trot from the tag. I could leave them now and look for Hornet on my own but I had not already forgotten how well doing things on my own had worked out. My destination was within my reach but my resolve faltered. I was too weak to go it alone. I needed a protector, a guardian. Once we got to Feathermont I knew I could coerce Flynt into joining me. I needed to exercise patience. My own recklessness had already almost gotten me killed twice in one day. I needed to maintain my ruse for a while longer.

"You see something out there stripeback?" I heard Flynt gruff from behind me.

I wanted to not be bothered by Flynt's words as it was obvious they were intended to goad me, but I could not help but feel offended. I had the decency to offer him my name. By the ancestors he could at least have the decency use it. I suppose I should not have been surprised. I had already come to see the reality of how barbaric pony mannerisms were. I wish I could have thought up some clever retort for him but I could not seem to think of anything appropriately patronizing to say about his cutie-mark. It was a just a black stone, jagged and somewhat lustrous. Tiny sparks were pictured at his cutie-mark's base. Was his talent supposed to be rocks? What a preposterous idea.

"Ahem," I cleared my throat attempting to insinuate my distaste for Flynt's remark. Somehow I felt such subtly would be lost on him however. "Nothing out here." I responded. "Just some stray rad-roaches and broken houses."

Flynt let out a grunt as he trotted up to me, "I've been seein' some shadows movin' around out there," Flynt said. "I think somepony's been tailin' us."

Curiously I consulted the E.F.S. of my PipBuck. There were some red blips skittering about but a visual inspection did not find any immediate concerns. E.F.S. was great for identifying threats but sadly could not distinguish whether it was something simple as the rad-roaches we had been spotting or something far more dangerous.

"I will let you know if I see anything out of the ordinary." I replied. Ordinary of course was a term whose definition had expanded exponentially for me in the last two days.

I scanned the horizon and spotted an odd shadow within the remains of a crippled structure's retaining wall. I took a few steps toward it wondering if the shadow was just my imagination.

"Weren't thinkin' of runnin' off now were ya?" Flynt quipped as I stepped away.

A twinge shot down my back. That was a bit on the nose. Maybe this old stallion was a little more perceptive than he let on.

"Of course not. How absurd." I stated covering my guilt with a flaunted offence. I pointed my nose to the air and huffed for added effect.

My feelings of superiority towards these ponies was emboldening me further.

"And another thing. If you wish to address me you can call me by my name. It is not too much to ask."

Flynt bristled not fond of my demand, "Whatever you say stripeback, but you'd best watch yer tone. Folks ain't gonna take to kindly to it no matter who you are. There are those out here that'll cut out yer tongue for talkin' all high and mighty like that Zyphus."

"My name is Zythus." I said with agitation in my voice. I shot a bluffed scowl at him.

There was an uncomfortable silence between us as we locked into a stare. I was a face to face with a pony that could shoot me dead if he was so inclined and I was provoking him. I watched with a faintness in my heart as Flynt's expression became a smirk. His smirk then became a low chuckle which soon erupted into a full blown laughter. I strained to conceal my bewilderment at his reaction.

"Oh brother you have some stones." Flynt said between bouts of coarse laughing. "I tell ya I had my doubts about you son but yer the real deal."

Flynt clopped back up to me and slung his foreleg over my shoulder. The smell was nothing compared to that of the raider ponies but it was apparent to me Flynt was in need of a bath for sure. I held my breath as I did not wish to diminish the bond we were forming. Whatever I did this savage was warming up to me. When we get to Feathermont...

"When we get to Feathermont I'm buyin' you a drink Zythus."

My ears perked and eyes widened. If it was not already getting to Feathermont quickly became my top priority.

*** *** ***

The city interior was bleak and empty and coupled with the near freezing rain chills ran through my bones. The foundations of towers that in another time touched the sky were all that remained of them. The once finely paved roads were now warped and bowed like waves in the ocean. Water pooled in the cracks and ravines of the mangled streets. Tattered posters clung to the walls of crippled structures from the days of the war. Many depicted zebra as red eyed monstrous shadows. Others were of pony soldiers reveling around the fallen bodies of my people. It was beyond blasphemy.

Over two-hundred years ago this place was hit by balefire. My ancestors struck here and many other locales across Equestria during the final climax of the war. It was a choice they had not made lightly. The war had taken its toll on my people who were relentlessly fighting against the pony aggressors. Even still none of my forefathers would have dreamed of using weapons like the balefire megaspell to thwart our enemies. They were kept as a precaution. Ponies had megaspells too and we needed them to mutually assure the ponies would not use theirs against us. We were losing the arms race though. Ponies freed themselves of any moral obligations and were developing more and more sinister technologies. They were on the cusp of having weapons and armor we could not match and were going to use them not just to win the war but to commit nothing short of the genocide of the zebra people. Facing our own annihilation my ancestors hooves were forced. Despite knowing the grave costs my ancestors needed to preemptively strike down the ponies before they could perfect the instruments of our demise. Looking around the crumbled remains of this pony metropolis I could not help but blame ponies for bringing this devastation upon themselves.

The 'shadow' Flynt spoke of followed us through the ruins of Vanhoover. I saw it once or twice myself but it kept its distance hovering just out of range of my E.F.S. It never allowed me enough time to discern its nature. There were too many fallen buildings and piles of debris for it to hide in to get a good look. The caravan was on high alert as we traversed Vanhoover's ghostly remains.

I got the feeling Flynt and Cruise expected an ambush around every corner. I could see fear in the eyes of the merchant ponies. They huddled together in the center of the wagons while Flynt, myself and the other escort ponies flanked them. I felt exposed; vulnerable. If there was trouble now I would have no time to hide and no time to pull my cloak and escape. I knew these ponies were afraid of me and afraid of what may be lurking in the shadows. Their only hope was that I posed more of a threat than anything that may be looking to prey upon us. I prayed my disguise would be enough to deceive our would be attackers as well. I gritted my teeth to help keep myself from cracking under the pressure.

After about an hour of plodding through the ruins of Vanhoover a collective sigh of relief echoed throughout the ponies and their wagons. A massive brick and mortar building stood mysteriously intact among the shattered remnants of the once towering skyscrapers that previously surrounded it. Beyond the majestic walls of this strangely persevered structure a vast ocean burned red against the setting sun. There was no land left to cross. We had reached our final destination.

Feathermont was a tall structure in its own right but it was also quite long and spread out. It stood many stories and took up what may have one day been an entire city block. Statues of ponies with spread wings stood up on their hindlegs on the corners of many of the tower's mezzanines. What were they called again? I racked my brain thinking back to my school days when I learned about this. Pegasus ponies; now I remember. Come to think of it of the more than twenty or so ponies in Cruise's Caravan I had only seen earth ponies like Flynt and Cruise and just as many unicorns. There were however none of these curious flying ponies. Maybe it was not so odd. After all what need would flying ponies have to travel in earthbound caravans?

Something else caught my attention about Feathermont as well. Another creature I did not recognize had statues lining the many verandas and balconies. Their features were nothing like that of zebras or ponies. Whatever they were they rested on their haunches with broad outstretched wings. It was hard to tell from this distance but the facial structure of these statues was almost... avian.

Cruise's caravan reached the city gates where we were greeted by a trio of heavily armed guard ponies in armored barding. Their helmets were similar to the gear the security zebras of Stable Forty-Seven wore. Many of the caravan members began unpacking their wares while they awaited entrance inside.

I was really second guessing my plan under the shadow of the grand pony citadel. I had been uneasy traveling with just the couple dozen ponies in the trade caravan. Feathermont was massive. Just how many ponies were going to be inside?

"Hundreds." the voice in my head grumbled.

"Maybe even thousands!" the other voice chimed.

My heart was deflating. I began to hyperventilate at the thought of being surrounded by these nightmarish creatures. Had I really thought this through? What did I really expect Feathermont to be? Part of me still had not let go of the fact that ponies still roamed these lands. A part of me could not accept their existence. Fleeing was no longer an option because I was in too deep.

One of the Feathermont guardsponies gestured his hoof at me with a cross expression on his face. Cruise turned to face me as well then reaffixed her gaze to the guardpony she was addressing. Cruise's heated negotiations with these two were stirring up my fears again. As much as I was terrified at the thought of being walled inside a huge building full of ponies the idea of being left alone out here was far less desirable. That is of course if that was the worst they were going to do to me. I averted my eyes from Cruise and the guard ponies not wishing to implicate myself any further. Somewhere buried in my own naivety I had seen my plan executing wonderfully without a hitch. Deceiving these ponies into helping me would be as easy as telling your foals Nightmare Moon would gobble them up if they stayed up past their bedtimes. Reality pummeled me like the cold rain above.

The tan husky mare turned to me wearing a look of remorse as she trotted back to the wagons. If that look meant to ponies what it meant to zebra than she had not received good news. I girded myself for the bombshell she no doubt was preparing to drop on me.

*** *** ***

A slave!?

If any of the loathing I had for ponies had managed to recede since I chose to travel here with them it instantly flooded back into my soul consuming me with more anger than it had before.

"I understand if you refuse Zythus," Cruise said to me. "You've done a great thing for us but these pendejos won't budge. You know that zebra are not exactly welcome in many parts unless they belong to somepony."

She had taken me behind one of the wagons out of sight of the guards to break the news.

My resentment smoldered under my stern facade. In small part due to the fact Cruise was suggesting I pretend to be her property in order to gain entrance to Feathermont, but in large part because ponies found such an atrocity acceptable. A zebra being the subservient possession of a pony? It was an outrage.

I was ready to tell Cruise and every other one of ponies here to go fuck themselves. The thought of being 'owned' by anyone, especially a pony, was an insult too great to bear. Even if it was not real the very fact this practice was condoned made me wretch.

I considered my alternatives. I had come this far and I was not about to let my plan go even if it meant having to propagate the repulsive idea that ponies were enslaving zebra. That must mean there are other zebra in the wasteland too. I would have to let the High Priestess know once I made it back to Xenolith. Surely she would not stand for such degeneracy to continue.

I eyed the metal collar Cruise presented to me. I was angry. I wanted to explode. I even half expected one of those nagging voices in my head to make some kind of comment but I heard nothing. Other words echoed in my mind however. "We all do what is best for the tribe," I had to get back, I had to find Hornet, and I had to put aside my emotions if I was to do so. I said nothing to Cruise. I simply took the collar and latched it to my neck.

"Lo siento Zythus." Cruise said. I conveyed harsh a glare to her only to see some semblance of sincerity in her eyes. If she was lying to me it was convincing.

We spent the next few minutes fine tuning the details of our ruse. Using the tools that had been smuggled out of Whitetail along with me I removed my PipBuck on Cruise's behest. They were not a common sight in the wasteland she explained. If any of Feathermont's denizens, not to mention the gate keepers, took notice of it my pretense of being an enslaved zebra would likely come into question.

"Don't worry son, it ain't armed. Well not anymore that is." Flynt said in his raspy tone as he trotted towards myself and Cruise. "Just keep your profile low. No need to be drawin' any unnecessary attention. You ought to be used to that."

Not armed? Flynt was referencing something ubiquitous enough for the wayfaring zebra assassin to know but the real me was completely oblivious. I kept quiet as to not let on that I did not understand.

"Once we get in Zythus I will have some choice words to say to Hefe Scrimshaw. With all my company does for this city he owes us a favor or two. I will set this right somehow."

I listened to Cruise's words not without some incredulity. I felt the knife of betrayal twisting its way into my back. I could not help but wonder and dread what Cruise's true intentions were.

*** *** ***

I was thinking of Xanthe as I was escorted through the packed halls of Feathermont. As a colt I remember being invited to a party in celebration of Xanthe receiving her glyph. She was one of the first in our class. Other than her I had not gotten to know any of the zebra my age. As a matter of fact Xanthe did not know me very well at the time either. I imagine her parents just thought to invite all of her classmates for one big celebration.

The party guests all clamored for Xanthe's attention enamored by her beautiful glyph. I admired her too. I wanted her to notice me but I was shunned and pushed to the wayside by my classmates. There were so many others she would never acknowledge me. Forget those zebras. I did not want them as friends anyway.

The corridors that made up Feathermont's streets filled me with the same contempt for the ponies that walked its halls. This was their place. I was not welcome and to many I was barely noted. Some of the ponies at least had the impudence to be bothered by my presence. They sheepishly kept their distance from me like a bear who had wandered into town. They shied away hoping I would prey upon someone else instead of themselves.

To most however I was simply an accessory to Cruise. The ponies of Feathermont seemed to regard me as no more than they would someone's bridle or saddlebag. I obediently followed Cruise by her side. I remained silent and made eye contact with no one.

*** *** ***

I considered my next move while recovering in one of Feathermont's many suites. I was a prisoner of the ponies now. At least that was how I felt. My new confinement was a far cry from that of Stable Forty-Seven's detention cell and to a greater extent the correctional ward in Xenolith. Plush pillows adorned the bed and sofa. There was a full bath which seemed like a ultimate luxury here in the wasteland. I explored the suite's private kitchenette and I helped myself to the some contents of the refrigerator. I partook of the sweet fruit and admired an old tapestry that hung from the wall depicting Equestria long before the war. It had been torn, stained, and faded over time but I appreciated its beauty for what it once was. It was nice.

There was a smaller room in the suite too with an even smaller bed. There was a rainbow motif painted around the walls with faces of smiling ponies all about. The chest inside held a teddy bear, some dolls and many other toys. This was the room for Cruise's two foals. Being in here I could not help but think of my sons. I wished I could have given them all these great things. Tears formed in my eyes just thinking about them. I had to step away and focus my attention elsewhere.

Cruise Missile had this room on reserve for her while in Feathermont. The room was held for her apparently because her services were so highly regarded. Cruise left me locked up in here while she sought an audience with Scrimshaw the pony in charge of this place. He or she was someone I could only imagine was Feathermont's equivalent of a High Priestess or maybe an Overmare.

I had not seen Flynt since we got here and as the hours ticked away I realized he already may have moved on. It did not seem like mercenaries were ones to sit on their flanks for too long in any one place. I began nervously pacing the room. My situation was getting worse by the minute. In my mind I saw myself finishing my escort mission then Flynt would be so grateful for my assistance I could ask him anything and he would be happy to oblige. The more I allowed myself to think about it the more foalish I felt. Now I was neck deep in ponies boorish as they were hateful. By the time Cruise had returned I was on the verge of a mental breakdown.

"Hola Zythus! How are you holding up?" Cruise asked after she entered the suite.

I was going stir crazy. My life was in shambles. I was losing my mind and ready to snap.

"I am fine," I answered wryly and forcing myself to remain composed.

"That's good," She said. "I spoke to Hefe Scrimshaw about your situation but he wants to talk to you in person."

A tingle shot from my head to my tail hearing those words. That could not be good.

"Why would he want to see me?" I asked.

"He didn't say. On the bright side though the meeting isn't until tomorrow and he said you were free to stay with me tonight rather than in the pens."

"The pens?"

"Si. I guess this is your first time in Feathermont. Slaves aren't allowed in the city after dark. They all get sent to the pens below the tower. Believe me you don't wanna be there."

I took her word for it. Meeting with this Scrimshaw fellow did not seem to bode well for me. I did not have another choice though. I would just have to wait and hope for the best. I needed some information from Cruise so I tried to change the subject.

"Cruise do you know if Flynt is still in Feathermont?"

"Yes I believe so. Why do you ask?"

"He um.." I stammered not knowing what reason to give, "He owes me a drink."

"Well I can help you with that," she said. "But first lets get that awful collar off you." Cruise stepped close and unlocked the collar wrapping her forehooves around me. She was a little too close for my comfort as the collar fell to the floor with a thud. I was just relieved to have the heavy weight off my neck.

"Thank you." I responded feeling a bit uncomfortable. I took a half step back releasing myself from Cruise's hooves.

"Sorry Zythus I felt awful having to make you wear that. I hope you understand there was no other way," she paused to think to herself. "I need to step out for again to check on Tomahawk and Sidewinder at the medical center. Please continue to make yourself at home here in my suite. I will try not to be long. There are clean towels in the bath too if you would like. When I come back the drinks will be on me," she said smiling sweetly at me.

A bath did sound nice. I had neglected to take a real one since before I was first incarcerated at the Stable. It was only by the grace of the rain I was as clean as I managed to be albeit my coat had grown rank from the dampness. Given the state of my hygiene it was very possible her invitation to use the bath was more of a strong recommendation.

"Thank you Cruise." I said again.

I hard a hard time reconciling the fact she was being sincere. All my life I was taught to believe ponies were the embodiment of evil in the world and so far the majority of them only reinforced this belief. I could not help but think maybe Cruise was a little different. It was a thought I buried in an attempt to not let her kind demeanor cloud my judgment.

*** *** ***

Hot water coursed over my body and trickled down my mane and tail. A fine mist filled the bath basking me in a welcoming warmth. I admit I was a tad reluctant to use her facilities but I chose to seize the opportunity regardless as I was not sure when another chance would present itself.

The fragrance of spring flowers pervaded the bath from the soaps Cruise was fortunate enough to keep. I was enrobed in a soft lather that washed away the filth that matted my coat and mane. The dirt and grime of my travels fell past my hooves and into the drain below.

Despite consciously telling myself not to I constantly was fondling my half ear while in the shower. I was obsessing over it not being there. With a little help from the healing potion from yesterday my ear had started to scar over replacing the burnt flesh and hardened blood.

Stepping out of the pleasantness of Cruise's bath I found a towel and proceeded to dry my coat. There was wide mirror that had covered in fog that overlooked the sink. I wiped away the condensation and saw my face through the streaks on the glass. It was a different picture than I had seen a week before.

Most noticeably of course was my ear which I had lost to the brain-bot pony but there were more subtle changes as well. My mohawk mane stood clean and tall. The bags under my eyes had faded if only slightly. I saw a stronger more resilient self than I had seen prior. For I moment thought the disasters that had befallen me might actually be making me a better zebra. Wishful thinking maybe.

My ears perked hearing the door to the suite close in the next room. The sound was followed by the light clopping of several hooves. Whomever had entered they were not alone.

I slung the towel around me and peeked out the door to the living room to inspect what was going on. Cruise had returned and along with her were her two colts who rampaged through the room at dizzying speeds. I felt a wash of relief knowing they were doing well in the aftermath of their torment. Seeing there was nothing to worry about I back stepped back into the bath to finish grooming.

*** *** ***

"Uncle Zythus! Uncle Zythus!" Tomahawk and Sidewinder cheered as I stepped into the room.

They each halted their hyperactive romp under the tables and over the sofa and rushed me. Each one latched onto one of my forelegs. My head reeled back as I was caught very much off guard their embrace.

"Zythus you're here you're here," one of the colts expressed with a youthful enthusiasm.

"Zythus the doctors says we're gonna be okay," the other continued.

"Zythus, come play with us! Play with us."

"Zythus can we be invisdible again? Pleeeease?"

"Yeah! Yeah! That was super fun! Pleeease?"

I was overwhelmed by the little colts. I looked around the room for Cruise but she was not in sight. As I labored to walk around the room while each of Cruise's colts kept themselves locked onto me unrelenting. Moments later she stepped out from the kitchen wearing a yellow dress and white apron. Seeing her now she looked like a happy little homemaker rather than the valiant leader I had seen her to be.

"Boys!" Cruise scolded in a motherly tone. "I think 'uncle' Zythus is very tired and is trying to relax for now. Now go to your room and play until dinner is ready."

"But mom," the older Tomahawk whined, "that room's for babies."

"Yeah momma," the younger Sidewinder agreed. "Why can't it be like our place in Tenpony.

"Now boys, the last time we were here Sidewinder was still just a little foal," Cruise said. "If you two let go of Zythus and behave yourselves momma will take you both to market tomorrow. We can find you some new toys for big colts like yourselves."

"Fine," they agreed in dejected unison and finally and unhinged themselves from my legs. They slowly plodded toward their room before breaking into a sprint. Thankfully they resumed their roughhousing in their own room.

Cruise sighed, "Sorry about that Zythus," she said. "You are a hero to them. I tried to tell them they needed to behave themselves around you."

"It is alright," I responded. "I am not a hero though."

Cruise gave me a consoling nod. "I know you were not there to save my sons Zythus," Cruise said. "But what you did there led to them being rescued. It means the world to them and, "she paused," to me."

There was an awkward silence between us after she spoke. "Ay Celestia mio!" she exclaimed as she turned back to the kitchen. "Dinner will be ready soon Zythus. Please have a seat and let me know if I can get anything for you."

*** *** ***

Cruise's cooking was wonderful. At the very least it was something other than apples and honey and that alone made it stand out. I was not sure what that was wrapped inside the crispy outside but the inside was spicy with a hint of cherries. Cruise proclaimed it was an old family recipe.

Then there was the wine. To me it was a gift from the ancestors. She said she had been saving these particular bottles for a special occasion. She told me she had acquired them from a merchant in a place called Tenpony Tower, a locale I had heard come up several times at this point. The bottle had a purple label emblemized with a strawberry and grapes.

The dry fruitiness of the wine was nothing like the sweet meads from home but its effects were comparable. I felt a thirst buried deep inside of me finally sated. I could feel my hooves tremble as I fought to maintain some sense of dignity and not swallow every drop before me. I could feel my worries melt away and my problems seemed like distant memories. I wanted to retrieve my PipBuck and begin tinkering with it like before but I could not do that to Cruise though. Even though she was a pony she was treating me kindly and I owed her that much respect.

After dinner Cruise sent her colts to bed. This order was met with much contention from the youths but they eventually were forced to comply at the promise of shopping the next day. Cruise shut the door to the boys’ room and returned to the coffee table where we ate. She cast off her apron and slung herself into the armchair across from the sofa where I sat. There were just the two of us now and a half a bottle of wine.

As we continued to partake from the bottle I felt my apprehensiveness evaporate and began to converse with Cruise quite fluidly. I strung together lie after lie about my adventures wandering the wasteland as a contracted hit-zebra. I never stuttered or missed a beat as the red liquid continued to flow. Cruise while not always approving of my false exploits was definitely entertained by them. She exchanged stories of her captaining the trade routes from Vanhoover to Manehatten. I could not fathom how she managed to be a fearless caravan leader and a mother at the same time.

Eventually the last bit of wine was gone and I was feeling better than I had in weeks. We talked and laughed the night away. It was more enjoyable a time than I thought one could have with a pony. Cruise set her glass down after polishing off the remainder of its contents and looked over to me softly.

"You know Zythus, I never truly got to thank you for saving my sons’ lives," Cruise said lowering her eyelids slightly.

"I told you Cruise I did not really do anything. Flynt he..."

"He probably wouldn't have given it a second thought if there weren't caps involved. I can tell you helped them because you wanted to do what was right."

Cruise slid out of her chair and stepped close to me. Her eyes were giving away her intentions not that she seemed she was trying to hide them.

"I... I've been very lonely Zythus. Sometimes I feel there are no good bucks left in Equestria. But you, even knowing what you are, I know you have a good heart."

She wrapped her forelegs around my neck and pinned me to the sofa where I sat. Her chest was hot and flushed as it pressed against mine. Our muzzles became close enough I could taste the wine lingering on her breath. She looked pensively into my eyes and my body tightened. I had no physical attraction to this pony mare but I feared my body's natural responses were reacting to her approach.

"Cruise... I umm. I do not... I have," I stammered trying not to look her in the eyes. Any semblance I had of a cool inebriated composure was now lost.

"Cállate," she whispered as her lips touched mine as I was helpless to resist in my state. The world around me faded to black.

*** *** ***

Zythus you are a complete idiot.

I could hear the raindrops falling in the distance as I came to. The sound rattled my brain and I could feel the ache clawing away in my head. It was not rain however it was the sound of the water flowing from Cruise's bath in the next room. By the ancestors! Cruise! What happened last night? I sat up to find myself no longer on the sofa but in a bed. Cruise's bed! Oh spirits please tell me I did not... No. Xanthe would never forgive me if I... With a pony of all people.

What did I let myself do? I... I cannot remember. There was too much pain for me to think clearly. I could hear Cruise singing happily to herself in the bath one room over. I panicked while my heart raced. What am I going to do? What was I going to say to Cruise? How was I ever going to face Xanthe again?

There was a shriek that pierced my ears from Cruise turning off the water in the shower. After a week of sobriety my first hangover felt worse than any I had remembered. I cupped my hooves over my ears from the sound.

Moments later Cruise emerged into the room where I sat frozen in her bed. Her blazing wet mane drooped around her forelocks and down her back. She was wrapped up in a pink towel that covered her waist and flank.

"Beunos dias guapo!" she said both smiling and winking at me.

I did not know what she was saying to me as she sauntered to the bedside. She pulled a second towel from her dresser drawer and began drying her mane.

She hummed cheerfully to herself as I sat across from her. I had to ask her what happened but how could I? No good could come of this I was sure.

"Cruise... I..." I began to say without really knowing where I was going.

"Zythus," she answered cutting me off, "You don't need to say anything. It is not like last night had to mean anything to you okay?"

"But... but I..."

"It is okay really," she said interrupting again. "I know you were not planning to stay in Vanhoover forever. It was just a one time thing. Nopony else needs to know about this. Comprende?"

My heart sank into my stomach. Had I really copulated with this pony mare? Did she take advantage of me in my uninhibited state?

"Now," she began taking up a tone more reminiscent of Cruise the caravan leader than Cruise the housemare, "I need to take my boys back to the medical center for a follow up. Once I drop them off I will return for you and take you to Hefe Scrimshaw."

I could not get a word in with her. She finished drying her mane and withdrew her barding from the dresser. She stepped back into the bath to get dressed before I could find the words to speak to her.

There was a clamor of hoofsteps when Tomahawk and Sidewinder were awoken by their mother. I heard Cruise collect them and lead them out the door that she closed behind her. Again I was left alone, now in a pool of my own shame.

My body was as clean as it had been in weeks but I felt disgusting. Cruise was respectable enough as far as ponies go but to think that I could have... I could not finish that thought. I had only left her for a week and I had already betrayed my Xanthe. It was too far too much guilt to bear.

I gathered my belongings and nervously paced the suite waiting for Cruise to return. I needed to put my possible infidelities aside and focus on my meeting with Scrimshaw. One way or another I needed deal with this pony, find Flynt, and get the hell out of Feathermont.

*** *** ***

Cruise returned as promised which was a good thing. My pacing had gotten so vigorous I was worried I would wear a groove into the floor.

"Listos?" Cruise questioned me entering her suite.

"I am sorry I do not..."

"Aye ai ai. Lo siento Zythus. I meant to say are you ready?"

"Ah yes but umm..." I tried again to figure out what happened the night prior. "Before we go I... I need to ask. Did we... you know..." I found myself hoofing the floor anxiously awaiting the answer.

"Oh my..." Cruise said as if I had offended her. "I know I'm getting older. I have two colts for Celestia's sake. I did not think I had become that forgettable at my age. Do you really not remember Zythus?

She looked up at me with an uncharacteristic pout.

"Well that is... what I mean to say... I am sure for a pony you are very umm... attractive but I well..." Her eyes bore into me like kitchen knives. I needed to shut up lest I make this situation any worse.

Cruise huffed and I saw my words were not helping me here. I needed to quit before I made the situation worse. There was no closure to be had now.

"I think we should just get this meeting over with Zythus," Cruise said clearly upset now.

She retrieved the collar and tightly locked it onto my neck nearly choking me this time. I whipped the ragged brown slave cloak over my shoulders. Cruise tugged at the collar forcing me out the door.

Again I was escorted through the dour halls of Feathermont. I tried to ignore the looks I was getting from the ponies. Not that I really had the time to pay attention the way Cruise stormed through the building.

We trotted up several levels of stairs on our way to the penthouse floor. I was robbed of breath from what felt like an endless flights of stairs but Cruise nary even flinched despite the high impact climb. Cruise was a real workhorse and I was just soft clay painted to look like a zebra.

At the apex of the majestic structure was the office of Scrimshaw the pony who for all I was told was the sole chief executive of the goings on in Feathermont. Massive doors engraved by hoof centuries ago stood before Cruise and I. Traces of gold painted trim lined each one. It was definitely the kind of door you would expect the boss of someplace to be behind.

"Hefe Scrimshaw wishes to see you alone Zythus," Cruise said in her serious tone. "This is as far as I go."

This was not a part of the plan. I was nervous enough facing this pony as is. At the very least I counted on Cruise to back me up. For her to provide some sort of support. This is not good; not good at all.

"Cruise, did he say why he wishes to speak to me like this? Why would he care about the wellbeing of one zebra like myself?"

"I do not think he does, or would for that matter." Whatever angry energy Cruise had must have been burnt up on the way up here. She was all business now. "All I can say is when Scrimshaw wants somethin' you do not say no to him in his town."

I nodded at Cruise taking her advice to heart. I took in a deep breath and put my hoof to the door.

"I'll be waiting for you out here." Cruise said. She looked into my eyes as I stepped through the door. Her eyes offered a sincere forgiveness for my earlier offence.

Buena suerte

*** *** ***

The heavy wooden door closed with a deep thud. The sound of the latch catching seemed to echo in the silence. Or maybe I was so concerned about trying to be quiet that my mind amplified the sound in my head. My headache still had not worn off from this morning. It was a harsh reminder that I had not left my poor judgment in Xenolith.

The room was just as large as I had imagined it if not larger. Shelves upon shelves of books lined three of the interior walls. The fourth wall was just several panes of glass overlooking the ocean beyond Feathermont. The floors on either side of the office were lined with free standing bookshelves that looked like soldiers standing at attention. At the center of the room light gleamed down from an open rotunda. Beneath the opening were several wood tables with glass housing over each one’s contents. As I approached the three obscured silhouettes at the other end by the glass wall I found ivory engravings of all sorts on the tables in the center. Bone, tusk, and tooth were all intricately inscribed depicting various scenes, people, and other things. Each one was a masterpiece in its own right. It was a sight unlike any I had seen.

"Stop right there," a male voice ordered me from behind the desk at the far end of the room.

I was quick to oblige. My heart was pulsing at a rate akin to a rad-bee's wings. I felt the sweat seeping from every pore.

Be on your guard.

Assert yourself.

I allowed myself breathe.

"Check him," the same voice demanded to his subordinates.

One of the dark figures approached me and soon came into view under light that shone from the rotunda.

I was at a loss complete loss for what I saw. Then I remembered the peculiar statues that adorned Feathermont's many balconies. He had the body and hind legs of a lion and the head, wings, and talons of an eagle. These were two creatures I had known only from story books but the amalgamation of them both stood in the light before me. It was the first time I had ever seen a real griffin.

He cautiously looked me over, examining me, and gauging me. He lifted his saber tipped talon and pulled the hood from my cloak exposing me. He instantly took a step away and drew a sinister looking rifle of some kind.

"Hey boss. He's wearin' one o' them bomb collars."

Bomb collar? What the hell?

...it ain't armed.

That is what Flynt meant. I had assumed this shackle was simply to a means to track and corral the slave who wore it. This device was however designed to kill the wearer should it fail to comply with its owners wishes. I knew, well at least at this point hoped, this one was fake. I perished the thought that Cruise would have had her way with me just to send me to my death as an unknowing suicide bomber. Actually given what I knew about ponies that seemed alarmingly too possible.

"Relax Gottschalk." the voice who I could now assume was Scrimshaw called out. "Cruise may not like me very much but if she was bold enough to attempt a coup I doubt it would be this obvious." There was a short pause I used to ingest this small bit of new information. "I believe she was being honest. At least as honest as she believes she's being. Just that same remove his collar Gottschalk. He and I are stallions of action, such pretence is above us."

"Yes sir," the griffin answered.

Gottschalk promptly sheathed the frightening weapon. Once back at my side he lifted this right talon to my face where I could see it was a prosthetic appendage. It was built to look like the talon that was likely once there but instead this cybernetic implant was inlaid with many tools the griffin could summon at will. It also still had three razor sharp claws. Commanding a delicateness this beast of an individual would not have seemed to possess he went to work on the collar.

"It is not armed," I assured him hoping I had masked the quiver in my voice. I prayed I was not lying.

The griffin made short work removing and dismantling the collar. True to Cruise and Flynt's word it had previously been defused. I drew a breath of relief knowing the one ounce of trust I had allowed myself in these ponies had not been misplaced.

Gottschalk continued to pat me down until he was convinced I posed no threat to his superior. I was then allowed to approach the large ornate desk at the end of the room.

"Ah there you are. Zythus is it?" an ocean blue colored pony with a slicked back onyx mane addressed me. "Welcome to Feathermont. It's about damn time you got here."

*** *** ***

"He gave you a what?" Cruise said taken aback.

"A writ of passage," I answered. "This badge says I am allowed to stay in Feathermont. The paperwork certifies that it is valid for one week from tomorrow." I held the document in my mouth along with a pair of pre-war books Scrimshaw allowed me to borrow from his personal collection. He was a far more reasonable pony than I had first expected.

"I know what it is Zythus but Hefe Scrimshaw is not a generous pony. Why would he grant it to you?"

I shot a deathly look back at Cruise true to my perceived idiom. "He wishes for me to do a job for him."

I could tell from her expression Cruise did not like where this was heading.

I recounted the events that had transpired on our way back down to the mezzanine levels of Feathermont.

In his office Scrimshaw explained to me how he had been trying to contact a clandestine group of assassins that were known to inhabit this region. Yesterday when Cruise spoke to Scrimshaw she explained the incident that had transpired during her trek through The Bitterness. She explained to him and how I had helped rescue her sons and came to the aid of their caravan. She petitioned Scrimshaw on my behalf that I should be allowed to stay in Feathermont in her custody until I had time to recoup and acquire supplies.

All the while Scrimshaw believed this chance encounter was actually a well conceived plot by me to infiltrate his city and offer my services to him. Something told me he had to have been very desperate to get his assassin to believe a zebra like me was capable of such an undertaking. He had given me leverage without me even having to even say a word.

"Bandits are very bad for business," Scrimshaw had told me. Feathermont was isolated from many of the more populated areas of the wasteland. His town heavily relied on the trade routes that ran in and out of here on a regular basis. Everything from the travelling merchants who stopped by, to the mass caravans like the one run by Cruise relied on the trade routes. A recent rise in hostile forces presented a serious threat to his city’s survival.

I had done him a great service by eliminating Viper Fang he said. He even offered me a stack of caps on top of the bounty Cruise had already paid Flynt and me. There was another greater problem he went on to say. It was a token of his appreciation and a sign of good faith for the job to come.

Just like Cruise said before there was a bandit town south east of here by the name of Tall Tale. Unlike raiders the bandits were intelligent, calculating, and most of all well organized. Despite being a pony of great wealth mercenary armies were few and far between in these parts. Also his concern for attacking Tall Tale outright would be a PR nightmare considering how many ponies regarded these outlaws as folk heroes and defenders of the common pony in and around Vanhoover. No, Scrimshaw believed the best way to handle these bandits was to cut off the head of the serpent and to my surprise the head of that serpent was Hornet, the Bandit King.

Footnote: Level Up. New Perk: Bookworm -- You pay much closer attention to the smaller details when reading. You gain 50% more skill points when reading books.