Author's Notes:

Just a little heads up before hand. I want to apologize for the "Ramble-ness" of this chapter. But I just couldn't help it, I just head so much BS in my mind. Though I will promise that the plot will continue to go forward in the next chapter.

This one here just establishes something that will be focused on for the next one. Now I am not sure when Alexander can finally start in dealing with the Gazelles and continue his search for the crown, but I guess that we could all kind of agree that the changeling are a much bigger problem right now. Fix that one first before dealing with the other.

Hope you guys still enjoy it...I mean you all probably do given that the main character is all about rambling anyway.

“Your Highness, Your Highness!” I heard someone call in a muffled tone, accompanied by some good old fashioned door knocking that just makes you to want to rip the door right off its hinges.

I groggily began to stir in my king sized bed as the fabrics of “Awake-ness” are once again blanketing over my own sheets of mental fantasies and delusions, or simply called dreams for people that don’t like mouthfuls.

I tiredly opened my eyes, feeling the grime parting from my eye lids. Once halfway open, I looked over at the bronze made clock next to me for some better orientation as to what century this is. The rather stylish clockwork was reading 30 minutes before 12, which, in my opinion, was WAY too early for me to even get up, thanks to yesterday’s debacle.

I somehow managed to misplace two baby bottles that were specifically made for little old Penelope, which meant that we either had to find them before dinner or just go ask the guy who made them for a second batch.

Knowing how life likes to operate around me it’s not too hard to imagine which option was eventually taken in the end.

Anyway, after a long back and forth to find those gosh darned glass cylinders, a new set of bottles were quickly made and brought to me, which finally allowed me to bring Penelope back inside, as her grumbling stomach was producing flames with every rumble.

She really is a living walking flame inferno, which is why I even decided to keep her in the first place.

I always wanted to have flamethrower as a kid… for no maniacal reasons, of course.

Either way, I digress. It seems that despite my own body’s protest, duty still calls, as I forced myself out of my cocoon. I sat upright on the edge of my bounce castle and smacked my lips before scratching myself first on the back and then on my ass, in that order.

We all have our morning rituals to uphold, after all. A very important exercise to perform every day, followed only by breakfast in terms of importance.

I would have loved to continue scratching my sitting muscle some more as it had a very specifically nasty itch this morning, but the constant knocking persisted despite that.

I groaned. “Yes, yes, I am up. Don’t smash your head through the door… that’s usually my cousin’s job. He likes rollerskates, but sucks at them.” I called out much to the satisfaction of whoever was abusing the poor woodwork.

Because it stopped, which, in turn, allowed me to focus on the still sleeping dragon in front of me. Penelope was adorably chewing on her blanket, wrapped up in a nice ball.

The concept of soccer immediately entered my mind when I saw her like this, but quickly banished it as it came.
I doubt kicking scales is as smooth as kicking a rubber ball, plus, I still have some more morning rituals to perform before I can even start with such activities, also, changing my Pajamas for another pair of Pajamas would be required as well.

“Got to lay an egg.” I told myself before dashing off to the bathroom.

My personal toilet still needs upgrading, which is thankfully planned for today while I am off too fuck about for the day.

Because, like every other day, I might actually come across something, or someone, to do the work for me, which, in turn, allows me to fuck about in the first place.

I like my coffee stirred, not shaken. What this has to do with going to the toilet, I have no idea, but, I guess, it’s because that coffee is generally brown. The same color as shit, when you think about it.
……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

Mystic Gem was not a happy doe as she continued to pace around the room, which had been their place of stay ever since they were let out from their cell by that crazy and nonsensical monarch.

But none of that really offered any level of relevance to her, as she had completely different problems to worry about.

“We searched EVERYTHING, the entire damn Vault, and yet all we have managed to find were a bunch of old Gazelle art pieces, ancient weapons, and some old horn duster, but not the very item that we have been sent here for in the first place… minus getting that crazy King back to our father for… whatever reasons.” Mystic announced as she continued to pace around the room as if she had a bee stuck up her ass.

Or something similar, who knows.

Little Steppes, on the other end, just kept to herself on her side of the bed, mentally reflecting on the things they have found so far in that underground Vault. So far, as her sister stated, it were mostly just hoarded items that really didn’t offer any significance to either them or the rest of the tribe as a whole. Those small crafted gold statues and accessories depicting their race in many artistic forms were just that, accessories or decoration you would see in Chieftain’s halls or ancestor caves. Though, one particular item did catch the young doe’s attention, which she also brought with her by the Captain's permission.

It was an old scroll, written in old and traditional Gazelle hieroglyphs. A type of stylized writing that has been lost to her kind for almost a millennia, with only the lore keepers or grand elders still keeping its traditions alive.

If this particular map has any significant secrets described on it, or some other form of long forgotten knowledge, then her tribe’s Lorekeeper might be able to decipher it. If not, then such a find would still be highly appreciated, since a lot of these old scrolls have found themselves lost from the ages.

Most of which have been taken or destroyed by the Zebras in the past, when they still dominated the lands, her race’s included. This was also one of the reasons as to why they were sent here in the first place, to get the new King, stop a potential reunification of the Zebra tribes, and to prevent such an act of genocide on someone else’s knowledge and culture to ever happen again.

From what her tribe’s Lorekeeper had taught her, her species used to be more than just simple nomads and tribes wandering around the great Savannahs of the south east.

They actually possessed cities their own, along the east most coasts of the continent. Cities that no longer stand, thanks to the ever present decay of time.

She just continued to reflect on those pools of past knowledge herself, while her sister, on the other hand, just continued to grumble to herself for having wasted all of that time and effort in a cold and dusty looking Vault, only to come up empty hooved.

Well, almost empty hooved. She at least has this scroll that still needs to be brought back home.

Little Steppes eventually sighed. “Why don’t you just lay down and doze off how you normally do ever since we got moved to a much nicer environment compared to the cell. Beating yourself up about this now won’t make the Idol magically appear out of thin air.” She suggested, much to Mystic’s already annoyed demeanor.

Mystic just snorted. “And then what? Do I need to remind you that we CAN’T really return without either the King or the Idol tied behind us? The level of disappointment and shame that will follow afterwards would be almost beyond repairable. Even if you personally don’t care about viewpoints, you know very well that our tribe is highly traditional.” Mystic retorted, which Little Steppes only has to agree on.

Returning back to the tribe completely empty hooved would certainly raise up a lot of problems for these two. Especially given how proud of a stag their father is.

But, they had an ace, an ace that she was holding onto.

“Maybe, but we still would have something almost as equally of importance as getting the King or the Idol.” She announced before presenting the scroll. “This ancient scroll, written in our forefathers language is just as valuable. A relic from a times where things weren’t as black and white as they are now.” She explained.

Alas, her older sister seemed unconvinced by Little Steppes’s statement that this simple piece of paper could still be used as a ticket back home, because, despite their failure, they were still given their freedom back, and the permission to leave the city whenever they wanted, which would have been great, if the whole “Idol still missing” debacle still wasn’t a thing.

Again, returning with none of the two requested items that her father and the rest of the elders demanded from them would still be disappointing at best, and downright shameful at worst. Especially in regards to the Idol.

No, she will not go back without at least having the Idol strapped on their back, and that is final. That piece of tissue can uphold the very secret of immortality itself, and it would still be not as important as the Idol itself, an item that was almost at the very center of Gazelle culture when it was still in their possession, not to mention the honor and acceptance of their father.

Its situations like these when traditions can really be the bane of everyone’s existence. This whole situation just reeks on all corners, and given how smell sensitive Gazelle noses are, it ESPECIALLY reeks top grade.

In fact… it was literally reeking inside the room, when Mystic actually took the time to give this suddenly appearing stench a curious sniff.

She immediately gagged. “By the GODS, what in our father's name is this horrible smell? Smells like an army of Rhinos suddenly decided to defecate all at once on top of a long rotten carcass of a dead Giraffe that has been steaming too long in the hot Savannah sun. What could possible produce something so spicy?!” She complained behind her hooves in a vain attempt to keep the stench away from her nostrils.

Curse their sensitive noses. The stench can still be easily recognized behind her hooves as well.

Little Steppes was confused at her sister's sudden gag and outburst, before her own inbuilt radar managed to detect the attacker as well. Same with her sister, the results were almost imminent.

“What the… where the heck is this stench suddenly coming from? How did it even got in here in the first place?” She gagged as well, before her eyes quickly spotted and opened window in the far left corner of their room.

It must have been opened by one of the Palace servants when they were most likely cleaning this place, while they were out and off in an underground chamber.

She immediately pointed at the open window. “The window. Quick, close the window before more of this spicy reek can get into this room. I am sure that the smell must be coming from outside.” Little Steppes instructed.

Mystic Gem didn’t needed to be told twice, as she immediately rushed for the window to close it. And, true to her sister’s words, the stench really did came from the window. The stench almost becoming unbearable the closer she got to it.

She swiftly punch slammed the window close and even took the time to close the curtains in front of it. Mystic sighed, the smell was obviously still inside the room, but now, with the shutters closed and its source basically cut off, it meant that it had finally some time to naturally dissipate on its own. In fact, the entire air inside the room immediately felt a tad bit lighter the moment Mystic slam-dunked the window.

Crisis averted, for now. But one question still remained within the sisters’ mind.

“Where and how in the ancestor's name did this stench come from?” Mystic wondered out loud, which her sister could only agree on.

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

I sighed with a huge and satisfied grin on my face as I exited the bathroom.

“Ahh, already feeling 5 kg. lighter. Note to self: Don’t eat baked beans and cheese for dinner. Such consumption of dairy and bean based products at the same time can lead to some horrible gas production inside your intestines.” I told to myself as I rubbed my hands together with glee.

Also, yes, I have used “Kilograms” instead of pounds to guess my current weight loss. Why? Because the metric system rules, and the outdated and horribly optimized Imperial system that the land of the Mormons and scientology still uses SUCKS!!!

Oh, it suck so hard. Why their thick headed and arrogant government is not actively changing their jarring measurement system, I have no idea. These guys might possess the most powerful and most advanced military in the world, but their tiny population of over 300 million is just laughable in comparison with the rest of the world’s 7.3 billion. Over 7 billion of them use much more convenient and simple to understand metric system. So, go take your armies and nukes with you to the corner, cry your little baby and thick headed eyes out, while we go smash that Imperial system you love so much to tiny little pieces.

Don’t force me to come over there once my epic empire building days are done. Your nukes are NOTHING compared to the power of magical rainbows and skittles, mudahfukers. I have it all in spades over here, even Donald Trump’s cheap blond toupee he bought from a cheap one dollar store isn’t going to shield you from my metric system inquisition.

My hair might not be blond, but at least it’s REAL, in comparison to his. Plus, brown looks great, too. ALSO, early “mornings” are a great time for my erratic and unrelated thought process to do what it does best. Be bloody erratic and unrelated. Something I would have LOVED to continue, if it wasn’t for the knocking to once again return to the forefront of my psyche, which, of course, sucks, as it automatically forces me to remind me of my ever important responsibilities of being the freaking King.

I grumbled to myself, before looking back at the door from where I stood. It’s actually a pretty darn good thing that I remembered myself to open up the bathroom window to let my aftermath wash out. Such nasty surprises might have come in handy for scaring off my duties.

Either way, I simply resigned myself to MORE work, and made my way over to the door to begin the day. I unlocked it, opened it, rose a curious eyebrow at the sight, before finally remembering what all of this was about.

Besides a guard, there were also a pretty happy looking mare and the bug horse thing next to her, who, in all sense and purposes, looked off to the side a bit awkwardly.

All if it became clear though, as the mare next to him gave him a loving smile, which he was forced to return, with a blush, of course. I grinned, while stroking my chin, knowing that my “experiment” was a total success.

Enemy spy made talk-able through sex. Suck on that load of sausages, you CIA noobs.

Plus, I might have also gained myself a new underling as well, judging by the momentary spark they both shared. YES, more cogs for my GRAND machine. An Empire needs a whole bunch of people to build, after all.

I already knew what the obvious subject was, but I still decided to openly question it anyway, just because this guy in front of me was still “NEW”.

“Well…?” I questioned with extended arms.

The guard bowed before replying. “Your Highness. The servant that you have instructed to “pacify” the intruder for questioning has accomplished her task and brought the assailant back to you for questioning.” He announced, all of his explanation being painfully obvious.

“Thank you, Captain Obvious. I can see both the bug and the mare myself, standing right behind you. Great job.” I responded, leaning a bit towards him.

The guard beamed up at that. “Oh, well… thank you, Your Highness!” He smiled, which just made me frown.

“I was being sarcastic.” I replied.

“Oh...” was his response before he looked down at his hooves.

I just shook my head, then went back inside to grab a cookie from the cookie plate that was brought in a day prior, and placed it onto his hoof as I returned. He looked at the cookie first in complete confusion, before looking back up at me with a questioning look on his armored muzzle.

I placed my hands against my thighs as I responded. “Well, it’s a cookie. Take it, it’s yours. Also, you can go ahead and take the rest of the day off, if you want. If anyone from the upper food chain ever asks, just tell them that the King gave you a cookie. They’ll understand.” I casually explained with a raised finger in the end.

He just tilted his head in further confusion, before just nodding and trotting off down the hallway with the cookie still firmly balanced on his hoof.

I just let him be as he was, while finally switching my attention back to the still waiting wannabe couple in front of me.

I clapped my hands to get things started, as I usually do. “So… about the bug horse…” I began, before the mare suddenly interrupted me.

“A-actually, Your Highness, his kind are called changelings, not a bug horses.” She informed, which was a rather useful info, I guess.

“And…” I leaned forward, giving her the “go on” gesture.

She did not disappoint. “Also, they are capable of both flight and magic at the same time, with their horns basically acting similar to a unicorn ones. In fact, their magic is actually mostly specialized in changing their appearance into almost anything that is similar to their size or overall autonomy. Like, being able to morph into a Zebra, including the change of size and shape of… certain body parts.” She explained, her cheeks turning a bit red when she mentioned the last part.

Her companion didn’t fare well, either… which went completely over my head, as I was more surprised about the fact that a simple servant like her was capable of speaking and understanding so many biological phrases about autonomy and whatnot.

Hmm… I think, the whole monarchy thing is slowly getting into my head at this point. Already starting to think like a pepped up aristocrat, which is fine, because I will most likely forget about it, anyway. Like everything else that is not deemed really important for my overall grand plan.

But, I am just thinking myself back into a corner here, and besides that, it really doesn’t take a genius to determine what she meant about “Certain body parts”. Or, maybe, I am just a dirty minded individual? Who knows? But, then again, who secretly isn’t in this modern age?

The Internet, people, the freaking Internet.

Either way, back up onto the roof and out of the gutters. “Very good job there, young…”

“Oh… uhm… Dahla, Your Highness.”

I puckered my lips a bit in satisfaction. “Well, anyway, good job there, Dahla. You're surely did the crown a great service in making this… changeling, was it?” I questioned, which Dahla nodded to confirm. ”Well, yes, as I said, you did a great service in making this changeling here talk and “extracting” a lot of necessary information out of him. I am sure that you wish to tell me all of your unique experiences yourself, but I wish to talk to this changeling in person. You can just confirm if what he is telling me is true or not.” I casually explained.

She, again, just nodded, while her companion just kept quiet beside her. He seemed rather awkward, but at least not as hostile as he was when I first met him. Which is good, less boners and more serious talk here.

Need to find out who this guy is working for, and if I can convince his boss to work for me instead. The grant machine needs more cogs, after all. The more cogs, the smoother the overall machine will run. On the flip side, it would also mean that said machine would be needing a lot more oil to run smoothly and a lot more maintenance to run correctly. But, whatever, let this be future Alexander’s problem, and not mine. For now, give me all the cogs you could muster.

Anyway, I was momentarily thinking about going over to the throne room to continue with this subject there, until I realized that the walk over there was somewhat long and tedious, and that I also just remembered how BIG this place really is.

After for, like… honestly I didn’t paid attention HOW long I have stayed here. But, besides that, I must have… maybe only explored 40% of the Castle in total, which obviously means that there was still a whole lot of rooms and halls I haven’t been to yet, which, again, just punctuates how BIG this compound really is. And I have been doing A LOT of walking around in here already, mostly aimlessly, mind you, if I don’t have an escort to escort me through this escort-able Palace.

But I am just getting distracted again… as usual. Just go ahead and ask the questions right here in my room, and do not worry about pulling my lazy ass over to the oversized heavy bronze couch which is also elevated on another short set of stairs that I don’t wish to climb right now, for more personal reasons rather than practical ones. Plus, court is now being handled by the High Council instead of me, so, really, only the most important decisions and news are ever being brought directly to me.

…No, I had absolutely NOTHING to do with implementing this kind of system just for me to be lazy some more. Nope, never transforming this into a constitutional monarchy.

ANYWAY, BACK TO BUSINESS!

I moved away from my door and made a hand gesture for these two to get in. Of course, both of them seemed hesitant at first, just like everyone else I tried to tell or invite into something. Which, in turn, always forces me to be more “verbal” about it to get my ideas across better.

You know what they say, a King’s word is Law if there really isn’t anyone else to uphold power or law.

“Well, just get in. Or do you two prefer we discuss his, or, rather, YOUR…”I pointed at the changeling. ”…race’s secrets and whatnot right here?. It’s either that, or step into my office, which is also my bedroom, by the way, but you get the idea.” I pointed out with a rolling hand gesture.

This, of course, finally did the trick, as the two love doves walked past me into my humble abode. I suspiciously looked left and right from the hall, just for the heck of it, before retreating back myself and closing the door behind me.

Both Dahla and the Change-a-ling were looking around the room in shameless curiosity. The changeling in particular seemed to be the most interested in his new surroundings, even more so when he eventually spotted the still sleeping drake in her crib.

He seemed a bit uneasy at first, but all of that quickly changed when his girlfriend decided to step closer to Penelope.

The aftermath was quite obvious, because nothing happened as the mare simply stared down at Penelo with a smile on her face. Really, what the heck do people expect?

I made my way over to a desk with a chair and turned that thing around to face the couple. I sat myself onto the artistic butt-supporter and began to clap my hands… quietly, to get their attention.

Time to start this, just so that I can take Penelope out in the garden to annoy some Palace guards later on.

What can I say, I get easily bored sometimes, especially with no Internet or cousins to entertain me. Or, heck, even an egoistic neighbor to flare up my mood.

I decided to open up this discussion myself, because why the fuck not. Especially when, from the looks of it, neither her, nor boner raising gay face seemed to be in any interest to starts this verbal back and forth anytime soon.

So, let the crazy one start first, because that automatically makes the most sense, especially for me. “So, tell me, Mister Changeling. What is it with you and your race’s presence within the city? Are you all in some undercover conspiracy of overtaking the city? Are you, perhaps, just gathering information for another faction that I don’t know of but still hates me and the Zebras for whatever reason? Or are you all just a bunch of dumb tourists that first saw this place in someone else’s vacation card and then thought to yourself “Man, I want to go there too, it looks very hot and… sandy over there”, or something like that?” I rapidly questioned, before leaning back, reminding myself to breathe.

I did just that, taking in some well needed air to prevent myself from experiencing oxygen deprivation within my noggin. Not that it would really do any damage in the first place, but it’s better to be safe than sorry.

“Well, which of these three options it is? I bet it is option number three, just for the sake of simplicity, of course.” I quickly added, leaning forward a bit.

The Changeling in question gave his other half a curious look, which, in turn, got him a rather kind and encouraging smile from the mare, which, in turn, AGAIN caused the ‘ling to sigh, before looking back at me.

Those blue and pupilless eyes are just so refreshingly different, I have to say.

“Well, I was actually a spy working undercover for our glorious Queen, and also hunting down deserters that have abandoned their Hive and are now, more or less, dwelling with you, upper worlders. My job was simply to either take them back to the Hive, or quietly “dispose” of them, if they ever caused too much trouble or risked our operations up here.” The ‘ling explained, which, at the end, caused his wings to buzz a bit awkwardly on his back.

Why? I don’t know, probably because of the fact that he is somehow being so chill about getting all of that information out of him, despite the fact that he normally shouldn’t.

I mean, I certainly don’t care what the heck he feels. As long as he tells me everything what I wanted to know. It’s all homie in the hood, yo. So very good and shit.

Getting my black gangster vibe going here, for no real reason whatsoever.

ANYWAY… this, obviously, isn’t all I wanted to know from him. There are obviously issues about this Queen of his, the possible location of this underground dwarven kingdom that they have going, and also as to why there are ‘lings defecting from whatever government they have going on down there in the first place.

Couldn’t possibly be as bad as the DDR or…,God forbid, North KKK Korea, but hey, beggars can’t be bloody choosers, after all. Beggars rather steal, and secretly act as both the eyes and ears of both the Thieves Guild and the Gray Fox himself. But I am just thinking of a different franchise here, and, in fact, a whole different universe entirely.

Back to topic.

I scratched chin in thought, while said arm that was doing the scratching is resting on top of another hand in a rather “Sherlock Holmes” detective style. All I would need is the hat, a monocle, and a pipe, then the overall theme would be complete. Plus, I would have something new and exciting to wear for the next German style Carnaval next year.

If they even have something similar to a Carnival here, if not then I should seriously introduce this concept to these black and white Zebras just so that I can have an excuse to request such a costume and wear it during the festivity. But again, going off topic.

I focused back at the changeling, keeping my detective thinking pose. “All very interesting. But do tell me, why are there so many ‘lings leaving your underground dwelling to live with the outside worldlers in the first place? There obviously must be a reason as to why such mass defections are taking place. Also, how many of your kind do actually live up here amongst the populace?” I continued to question.

He, again, seemed a bit hesitant and thoughtful, just like the first time. I can tell that he is having a serious mental debate as to why he was openly telling me all of this, and if he should keep spilling the beans or not.

Not a very easy decision to make, I have to say.
Again, if he does choose to tell me me everything, then he would pretty much be bound to my service. His interaction with me alone could easily be stamped as treason for whatever Queen he is working for. In fact, he could pretty much just start telling me everything, as returning now to wherever he crawled out would be rather pointless at this point.

I could easily house him, let him keep fucking his newly acquired girlfriend, and have myself a nice living encyclopedia about his nation and his race overall.

Knowledge is power, after all.

He, again, turned his gaze over to his companion for answers, which he got in the form of another lovely and encouraging looking smile and even a small nuzzle this time, for added bonus. He, as a response, just blushed yellowish around his cheeks and gave her a somewhat dopey smile in return.

Man, she is good, I really should start incorporating these mare servants as interrogators, as their attitude and overall sex appeal seems to do wonders for them. Not to mention getting them something in return, if you know what I mean.

Anyway, with all of that done, he finally looked back up at me, with his blush firmly gone and a look of finalized determination in his eyes. His blue, pupilless, eyes mind you. Baby blue, in fact.

He coughed lightly before starting. “Well, for starters, the reason as to why so many changelings and simple drones are abandoning the Hive in the first place is because of the every growing madness of our Queen and the harsh rationing she is putting onto the population. You see, the Queen is basically the heart of the Hive, and in the distant past — even the mind, thanks to the natural hive mind link every changeling shares with one another. So, if the Queen herself is going mad, then the entire Hive will suffer from her mental state in the form of fear, confusion, and paranoia. This mostly affects the normal changelings and certainly the drones, as the Noble changelings possess a much greater level of mental independence compared to the rest.” He openly laid out, which was certainly interesting to hear.

So, these guys actually operate in a Hive like environment then. Basically, similar to bees or other group oriented insects. Quite fitting and somewhat predictable, given their outward appearance. I like it to be honest, certainly something new and fresh.

Bug horses basically operating in a bug like society. Certainly haven’t seen or heard of such a concept before, or if I did, I most likely have forgotten about it.

But again, more info is required to fully draw a much better picture for myself, not just for security reason, but also if I could personally capitalize on this or not.

More cogs, give me more cogs. Also, options, having an army capable of flight and shooting lasers from their crooked head accessory would certainly give me more options and a greater range of versatility when marching off to war. Building an air force, now there is something to plan for.

A Biological air force, to be precise. Sounds somewhat kinky when you think about it, but whatever.

This also finally leads me to the final question of the day. How many changelings really do live up here on the surface, and most importantly, in between the local populace. If he could give me a number of even help me route out these straddles, then I could maybe offer them all a much better life under my flag and get myself some more of these flying bugs on my side. If all of that doesn’t work, then I could always go back to my previous plan in sending in some mare servants to “interrogate” them and convince them otherwise.

If it worked once, it can work again. Just lift that tail and wiggle those flanks, and any male with sufficiently sized testicles will become instant butter within their hooves, while at the same time becoming butter within my hands as well.

Man, I am certainly going to have a lot of butter in the future. My personal cook won’t be running out of butter anytime soon, I can tell you that.

Either way, back to topic. “Quick!” I announced while swiftly pointing a finger at the now startled bug. “How many of your deserters do exist on the surface and how many of them actually reside here within the city? Hurry up and tell me!” I rapid fire at the poor guy as he flinched back a bit with wide eyes.

He took a moment to think before finally regaining his composure. He gave me a sad look as he replied. “Well, sorry but… one of my missions was to root out these deserters. I have no idea how many there are or where they are, besides the one I removed, that is. Though, I have been equipped with a spell that can help me detect and dispel disguise on any changeling that is nearby and expose them. I can certainly catch them that way, if you allow me to.” He explained and offered.

This, of course, was a rather intriguing proposal. Though, at the same time I shouldn’t really trust his offers, as I am still feeling a tad bit unsure where his allegiance truly stand. He might have told me everything I wanted to know, but that still doesn’t mean that he wouldn’t use his proposal to eventually stab me in the back. Go find his ‘lings, continue his previous job, but just hunt them down and then fuck off back to his Queen, leaving me stranded here like a fucking idiot.

No, I shall not be stranded on a lonely island with just one coconut tree being my only source of shade and nutrition. I will have to make sure that this ship is truly seaworthy before allowing myself to leave port.

Need to apply some super glue one those cracks, first. Also, attach an oversized anchor on it’s stern, just to be sure.

I rubbed my chin in thought as I gave the ling a cautious look. “What’s the catch?” I simply started, trying to probe his thoughts with a rather simple and straightforward question.

It was his turn to give me the raised brows, even though he doesn’t have any, or at least none that I can see.

He seemed confused, but also curious at the same time. “There is no catch, I have received more love in a single day than I have ever received in my entire life. I am so energetic and full of life that I have no desire to give all of this up for a cause that might very well be doomed to fail regardless from what I know of. The Queen has gone mad, and there is that. Up here, I am free and no longer have to worry about my next meal of love or positive emotions. This is practically heaven for me.” He openly explained, which lead to me being both confused and curious.

I did the “Timeout” gesture with my hands. “Wait a minute. Did you just implied that you, and, to a greater extent, your entire race are feeding on love and emotions? Is that what you meant?” I asked.

The changeling nodded. “Well, yes. I know it must sound strange, and, maybe, even somewhat disturbing to you surface dwellers, but we changelings do feed off the love from others, and other positive emotions, to some extent. “ He confirmed.

This pretty much explains everything, then. “Like the boner that I accidentally gave him. I was literally feeding this guy with my affection and the emotional substitute of Viagra. A strange concept, indeed, but at least one that now makes sense… kinda. Well, making sense in a magical world filled with talking animals kind of sense. A cartoon, first and foremost.” I thought to myself as a new curious idea entered my mind.

“So, does overfeeding causes boner within the males and the serious case of the heats to the females? In that case, remind me to never show any affections to these ‘lings, unless I want to keep my dignity intact… or at least what’s left of it, that is. Don’t need a harem of bugs chasing after me, after all. Too much distractions and constant running, and I hate running.” I mentally noted, before focusing back at the two in front of me.

The ‘ling in question was once again looking over to his “interrogator”, which caused him to blush again when she just continued to be all affectionate towards him.

This confirmed his loyalty in my eyes. It’s pretty much the same with either the East Germans of the DDR, or also with the North K-pop peoples, as well. Once these individuals had tasted the sweet, sweet nectar of something that would have been impossible to obtain from wherever they are from, then turning back now would sound like a really stupid thing to do. Especially when these places would immediately turn hostile to them after their successful escape.

So, really, I might just have found myself a new possible source of new potential citizens and soldiers, just for the price of letting him fuck one of my servants, and unintentionally even creating a new couple.

Spy work and interrogations, whoever said that both of these things are hard is a fucking wanker. Look, I am a complete amateur, and I still managed to succeed faster than most professionals could… well, minus the physical and mental tortures. I, at least, did it peacefully. Like a bloody hippie.

Flower power and all that stuff. Love, tolerance, and some weird fucking rainbow. I blame the existence of the carebears for those phrases.

Either way, the overall path seemed to be clear now. While Bakuss is off to his “forced vacation”, Aku is tending to the overall council and Susi is… actually, I have no idea what the heck is she doing, but whatever. The point is, everybody is marginally busy with their own expected responsibilities. Same with this fellow ‘ling here, who is going to be finding more of his ‘lings to intoxicate them later with boner inducing love and future girlfriends to put said boners into.

Not me, as I still have some dignity to hold onto, and I don’t have a pussy. It’s a good thing that the Palace if full of female servants, which means I will have no issues to choose the next unlucky, or, in this case, lucky individual to throw under the wagon.

Because I have my own priorities and responsibilities to take care of. Like, being a somewhat decent father figure and giving the local Palace guards something else to do besides just standing still all day and pissing themselves into oblivion.

Man, I feel like playing Oblivion now, but, yet again, no Internet or access to a good PC. I will most likely never get used to this, but, hey, variety is the spice of life, after all, and considering the loop I have been thrown in with this whole dimensional travel into a magical cartoon land type and shit, I must be reaping the really good stuff right now. The kind of spice you can only get by some shady ass character from an isolated back alley.

So I really can’t complain here.

Overall, this pretty much concluded today’s “before breakfast meeting”, and right on time, too, as I could hear a certain red and orange scaled infant slowly waking up from her normally long slumber. How do I know that, some might wonder? Well, simple, a poof of flames ejected from the crib.

This prompted me to get up from my chair and walk over to Penelope’s crib to pick her up. She immediately began to babble in her baby talk when I removed her from the fabricated cocoon and held her up on my left arm.

I turned around to address the two. “Well, then, I certainly had a lovely chat with the two… well, mostly with mister changeling over here, whose name I still don’t know…” I exclaimed, which caused him to open his mouth ready to say something, before I cut him off just as fast. “…which is fine, as it’s not really important as of now. Just go out there and properly list yourself with both the guard and the civilian related part of the Council. One of the guards or representatives are still going to inform me of your name regardless if I have personally ask them for it or not.” I raised my free finger in a dramatic pose with my eyes going wide. “EFFICIENCY!! Can be both a blessing and a curse at the same time. Stop telling me shit that I didn’t ask for, it’s confusing and more distracting than it usually should be.” I announced loudly to no one in particular.

Both the ‘ling and the mare were just giving me both some really strange and confused looks, while Penelope just went back to trying to munch a hole through my shirt. Which is semi fine, as this isn’t the original shirt anymore that I wore when I got warped into this world. It’s just one of the many countless clones that I ordered from the local tailor with both the same color and the same slogan printed on the front.

But, alas, I still thwarted Penelo’s efforts, because I didn’t want her to make a habit out of it. Well, at least not with my stuff.

I walked past the two still confused quadrupeds and made for the door. I still haven’t had my breakfast, which needed to be addressed as I was slowly feeling its effects. Same with Penelope, as she started to burp tiny flames out of her mouth.

I opened my overly fancy door and was ALMOST surprised to see (almost being the key word here) Bakuss of all people standing in front of my door mid knock.

Silly old Bakuss, such a terrible workaholic, this one. Again, not really surprising to still see him roaming through the Palace despite the fact that I gave this poor fool a vacation the previous day that he couldn’t refuse, mostly because I am his boss and I kind of made him take it.

The young but still rather dedicated stallion has been quiet, in and out about himself ever since the battle. So I came up with the jazz to give him some needed off time to better reflect on his experiences and actions he needed to make, while I was busy being high on too much caffeine. Literally.

Who could have thought that caffeine can get someone high, or at least send a person through a trip of time and space to visit the intergalactic chocolate factory?

Not sure if such an overly self-conscious trip is healthy? But then again, who cares, my mind already got long warped, thanks to all of those fever dreams that I get on almost weekly basis. A world filled with complete nonsense and unadulterated madness.

Oh, yeah, there is still a Bakuss to deal with.

The stud was about to speak as a quick excuse quickly entered my mind. I grinned before pointing over my shoulders at the still standing couple.

“Good that you are here and not off to your extended break… like how I told you to!” I exclaimed with clinched teeth at the end, which… did nothing to him. He was again about to say something, when I YET again beaten him to it, just like how I pretty much beat everything in this game, as you cannot outtalk a hyperactive guy with a few screws loose in his head.

I re-engaged my grin. “Anyway, besides your blatant disregard to your own mental health, and believe me, I am VERY WELL VERSED in that field, you just showed up just in time to give this little ol’ changeling a bit of a guideline tour of the Barracks and overall rules and regulations of your regiment. Because he will be used as our personal bloodhound to sniff out and expose more of his kind, and to, hopefully, get more hounds of the blood from them in the future. Now, quick, time's a wasting, and I have a personal breakfast table to catch if I don’t want to completely fall out of my figure. Isn’t that right, Penelo?” I explained before looking down at my partner in crime to get any input out of her.

All she did was mumble gibberish, before going back to munching the upper corners of my sleeves.

The girl will never learn, but neither do I, so, I guess, she is taking quotes from her old man, which is nice. Personally so, but probably not in the great scheme of things.