The most fascinating thing about the Zebra’s, in my opinion, is their language; it’s an utterly foreign sounding thing, the most important speakers of it strictly adhering to the ‘Old Poetry’, as they call it.

What I’m saying is, is that there are actually two variants of this language. The commoners variant, being called ‘Hideous Speech’ in their own languages, appears to be what Vulgar Latin was to Classical Latin; the split was natural, as the commerce brought on by international trade would have required a standardised equivalent, to be easily understood by layfolk.

‘High Poetry’, however, consists of rhymes, limericks, and couplets strung together to form an oddly melodic pattern of speech. And they don’t stick to the simple A-A-B-B couplets Zecora often did, either; the meaning and intent often changes based on rhyme scheme, the tone of the speaker, their stripe patterns, or even the seasons, occasionally! The language is a uniquely beautiful and utterly fucked up mess; when I had just been born, left to imagine the possibilities in silence, this is what I’d been hoping for!

… Does that mean an argument between two zebras could be considered a rap battle?

Heh… anyways… All this to say, that Sinan would be my key past this near-impenetrable language barrier for the duration of the trip. I didn’t understand a word of their language off the top of my head, and even if I was allowed to learn High Poetry, I wouldn’t embarrass myself by trying; apparently it’s a cultural, religious thing or something, that makes the Zebra Royalty believe that only those with zebra blood can learn their speech.

What that means, is that any zebra speech in my journal, I’ll just have Sinan regale me with the details and write it in like ‘this’. Example: the word Uikha-Shi’Ha, means ‘Big Dick’ in High-Poetric… Yes, I know. I’m very mature.

—

“Remember, Anastasia.” I muttered to her, waiting for Sinan to allow us into the throne room. “We’re not beneath them, but we’re not better than them, either.” I said, patting her on the back.

The large stone temple we were in had been refitted and redecorated countless times over the brooding millenia; The ancient splendour of this Abyssinian coastal stronghold could only be seen in the silhouette of a black-stone tower from the shoreline, the surrounding base totally obscured by later buildings and the wild growth of the jungle.

“I know, Mamma…” She muttered, “What’s taking so long?” She whined as I used my hands to turn her my way.

“You heard Uncle Si- it’s some tradition or other.” I said, licking two fingers and using them to straighten some loose feathers in her pompadour. I examined the rest of her face… and scoffed in annoyance. “Anastasia, I told you to wipe your beak good when you’re done eating.” It was her turn to groan as I licked a thumb, using it to wipe the excess jam stuck to her beak.

“I did!” She defended, and I patted her on the back.

“Then do it better, next time.” I couldn’t help but smirk as I glanced back towards the tall oak door in anticipation… which slowly creaked open before us, revealing Sinan. He gestured for us to follow along inside.

The throne room was a sight to behold: Round and wide at the bottom and tapering slightly towards the top, it appeared to be made of natural stones, cobbled together with almost scientific precision and welded together with bitumen. Evidence of ancient floors and a long-crumbled staircase were obscured by wooden support structures; a much more recent modification, sparked by a panic caused by one or two of the unbelievably ancient stones falling out of place.

During the modifications, a dome was added to the top; called ‘Heaven’s Flower,’ it was shaped like a closed rose-petal made of silver. Another modification, much more ancient, involved turning the very bottom set of stairs into a throne: shaped like a right-triangle curved around the back edge of the tower, a bowl-like shape was cut out of the middle, with adjacent steps used as armrests. It was bedecked in flowers, soft furs and blankets, and god knows what other bullshit they found precious.

What was the tower originally used for, you may ask? Fuck if I know. The ancient zebras that called this place home never bothered to ask, and their continued habitation and lack of zebra interest has hindered archaeology in this area. But despite my curiosity, I had shit to do.

Aside from a few guards, King Wa-Ki’Shahn sat on his throne with an unreadable expression. Nearly every protruding limb was adorned with precious jewellery, and his crown… reminded me of a rose-gold bowling pin, to be honest. His robes were aquamarine, the short-sleeved cuffs and collar decorated by thin gold plates, intricately designed. Overtop that he wore a bright red shawl, bedecked by tassels of golden thread along the edges, sashed across his chest.

I approached him with a kind smile, holding out a hand. He cocked an eyebrow, looking me up and down like he was expecting something.

“You can either come down here and shake my hand, or the ponies are gonna learn about your little dope-smuggling operation.” I said plainly, the smile never leaving my face. “I have eyes everywhere. Nothing escapes my oversight.” Ever since I made the manufacture and sale of hard drugs less profitable, less practical, and more dangerous, the invisible hand of the free market decided to jack off someone else; so whatever they can grow in the jungle, they’ll just smuggle into Equestria.

Not to mention, guaranteeing the Changeling’s independence has granted me a permanent set of eyes on the Equestrian mainland; while I don’t use them for anything direct, it’s hardly a big ask to have them keep their eyes peeled for anything suspicious. Once I heard reports of small boats making their way towards Equestria during the cover of night, I sent my own guys to investigate… So when Sinan nodded and translated for me, the king's pupils shrunk to pinpricks!

‘I have never even heard of such a thing!’ He was outraged, and pointed to Sinan- ‘Why have you brought a slanderer before me!?’ But Sinan just responded with a smirk.

‘Then you wouldn’t mind it if certain unregistered fishing boats stopped showing up to Hay Harbor in the dead of night?’ He suggested with a smug grin, ‘Someone could mistake them for pirates, after all!’

The King looked down at the three of us, gritting his teeth. Begrudgingly, he hopped off the throne and shook my hand; if he didn’t, I’d be revealing the identity of a notorious smuggler to soften things up with Equestria.

“Was that so hard?” I asked rhetorically. “I’m not here to rob you. I merely wish to do business.” I then looked at Sinan and nodded.

‘We’ve noticed that your kingdom has a dire lack of firearms. We’d be willing to help rectify this issue, in exchange for favours of our own.’ And that got his immediate, undivided interest. ‘Specially made, based on pony Firespear Technology, but better. We’d smuggle them into the country for you; we only ask that you allow us to set up our own interests within your territories.’

“What they’re talking about, Anastasia-” I whispered, getting her attention. “Is that the Zebras will be given a set number of guns for their own security.”

So as Sinan and the king spoke, I explained the situation; after the Zebras get their guns, maybe a couple thousand or so, they won’t have the manufacturing capability to replace or repair them effectively. We’ll deal with repairs for long-term use, and even include documents on maintaining and using the guns.

In exchange, we’ll basically be able to build our own port and have total autonomy within the zone. We’re even gonna have an embassy!

…What I only explained to her later on in private however… was the hidden downsides to their deal. While the guns would be extremely well-made to help prevent normal wear, black powder guns still require constant cleaning. In a sort, their guns are like a spear-bullpup; IE, it can be held and operated like a spear, except the entire length of the haft was essentially a rifled gun barrel. The trigger was towards the centre, a long transfer bar activating the covered rear flintlock mechanism.

They’d have to buy powder off us to use their guns. They’d have to buy whale-oil off us to clean their guns… and in the humid jungle, whale oil is a must to prevent your gun from disintegrating. Then by the time they realise that extreme rust damage can’t be fixed without essentially replacing the entire thing… and that we won’t warranty out damage caused by neglect… they’re still fucked!

The king wants to keep his drug-routes? Well, he can bitch all he wants; by then, I’ll have plenty of my own loyal men protecting Griffonian interests, with far more and far superior firepower. The jungle is full of many dangerous beasts, so arming my Griffons with peashooters will not do!

Ohh, another thing I just thought of; what if we cut our powder with stuff, and adulterated the oil somehow to bring up our margin?

‘To ship the guns to you, we’ll first need to set up fake factories; this is to cover the fact that we’re sending them to you. As far as Equestria is aware, your guns are zebra-made and manufactured, based on stolen patents.’ Sinan explained, going over the contract with the king. ‘And needless to say, these arms are not to be used against ponies or griffons.’ He explained, and the king seemed on board.

Another thing we never explained: for insurance reasons, we would set up our bases first before sending over the guns. You know- point a gun at them, then let them arm themselves. That way, we’ll always have the first shot.

Finally, the King nodded. A name was scribbled onto the contract, and the easy part of the trip was completed! After we send a telegram back to the mainland, the first construction ships will set out to build our port; we would be essentially deforesting a decent sized area to the south of here, where the trees thin out.

Environmental impact? The fuck’s that?

---

“Tell me, Silvie…” Dee mused aloud, resting on the couch with her oldest friend. The silver mare idly sipped her tea, cocking an eyebrow. “When’s the last time we’ve sat down to gossip like this?” She asked with a giggle, and her friend mirrored the gesture.

“Too long.” The two shared a nod as Dee’s assistant entered the room. She handed the tea off wordlessly before moving to the dining room table to continue her work; she was currently editing the rough drafts of her master’s speeches, pretending to not be listening in. “So… where do I start?” She asked rhetorically, rolling her eyes with a giggle.

Sinking into the arm of her couch, she started- “Applejack. Ever since Granny Smith passed, she’s been doing… voice training!” Dee tilted her head with an odd smirk, “You know, to get rid of that hick accent.”

“She’s a Biz-i-ness mare, now!” Dee mocked playfully, the two sharing a giggle, “She’s calling herself a CEO too, right? Standard Fruit or whatever it is.” Silver Spoon rolled her eyes with a chuckle,

“She and pretty much all her friends are typical new-money.” She explained, and snorted- “Eh, good for her, though. I could hardly imagine a mare like her being content with being a poor dirt-farmer the rest of her life.”

Dee nodded, sipping her tea. “I felt the same way about managing my father’s company.” She mused, chuckling- “Did I ever tell you about the time I left Leona in charge for an evening?”

“Spill it!” Silver Spoon half-yelled, her curiosity piqued.

“She threatened to stab someone in the first half hour. Then there was this old fuck that came in on the regular to talk your ear off- she got stuck with him for like… two hours?” She explained, the two friends sharing a laugh- “Then, at the end of the night? She got stabbed!” She concluded the story like it was a punchline,

“Noooo way!” Silver exclaimed with a snort, “You know, I’ve noticed that service at the Bargain’s in Griffonia is way better- that have something to do with you?” She asked slyly, and Dee smirked.

“Here’s the thing- retail work is hard and humbling. It gave me a perspective on the world that was critical to our formation of the Syndicate.” She explained, taking another sip. “If someone’s being a dick to you, then you’re absolutely in the right to tell them to fuck off… whether you’re on the clock or not.” Silver Spoon nodded in understanding.

“I’m surprised there’s not a major conflict of interest… you know, with your daddy.” Silvie said, the soft slurp of tea beginning to grate on the spy’s nerves, despite being in the next room.

“Oh, don’t get me started!” She exclaimed with a laugh, “You should hear Leona going off on one with him at the dinner table!”

With a giggle, Silver said- “Oh, that Filthy Rich… he always was a bit-pinchin’ miser outside his own home!” Her Ponyville accent briefly broke through; but with another shared round of laughter to further annoy the spy,

“Yep, that’s my daddy, alright!” Dee exclaimed. As the two old friends continued catching up, Syl could only think about how much those two reminded her of teenagers gossiping in the lunchroom. Their conversations seemingly went on for hours… but eventually, Syl heard something potentially worth noting down.

“Speaking of Sweetie Belle… she’s actually in town!” Dee half-whispered… and Silver gasped! “There’s this card game we run on the side, called the Executive Game. It’s an invite-only poker club that plays high-stakes games in private.”

“Bella Donna… Er, Sweetie Belle’s gonna be there, huh?” Syl thought to herself silently, correcting her private use of Sweetie’s stage name, “Interesting. A pony celebrity in a private griffon card game? Potential spy, maybe.”

“Heh, even my doctor’s gonna be there!” Dee exclaimed… and Syl quietly hoped she’d get a date and location.

---

That business finally taken care of, we had a couple more days until we’d start our journey through the desert; due to the lack of available fuel and the sheer remoteness of everything there, we’d have to travel with a trade caravan. Until then, though?

I was taking in the wonderfully unique city, Anastasia riding on my back while Sinan strolled beside us; Surrounding the main temple were the stone frames of various ancient buildings. Most of these frames only rose a few feet off the ground, made of the same material and presumably using the same methods as the main castle. Building atop these frames, presumably after the rubble of war was cleared, the zebras used their ancient methods of baked clay bricks, glued together with sand-based mortar; So much like the zebras themselves, these buildings had black stripes contrasted with whitewashed bricks, all protected with a roof of thick, dark purple jungle leaves.

Of course, this was just within the skeleton of the ancient city centre- outside the long-crumbled walls of the city held much more varied architecture, many buildings being uniquely designed to their own means and sensibilities. Just like any feudal society, you had the poor that lived in tiny houses, often being simple mud-huts with leaf roofing. The merchants lived in decent sized family homes, usually made out of baked bricks and other sturdy materials… then you had the aristocracy, living in big houses with all the amenities this nation could afford. But what was really unique was the layout; it was totally unplanned and unsupervised, so clutches of dirt-houses huddled outside the gates of some zebra noble’s mansion, both sharing the same dirt road.

A few houses even had cars parked outside- older ones, with the large spoked wheels made for handling ruts left by wagons. The zebras aren’t bad trading partners, all things considered; even when we cut back on rubber imports due to the invention of synthetic rubbers, many of their merchants are more than happy to trade… Usually.

That’s why we were walking down the main avenue, thankful for the shade provided by the many coloured tarps criss-crossing the buildings on either side. Strapped to various bolts near the roofs of the various buildings, there were just enough gaps to let the light in. The gentle breeze of the ocean seemingly funnelled and circulated cool air down the main strip, displacing the humid jungle air that otherwise would’ve been stale and stagnant.

So, between that and the fact that many of these buildings wouldn’t make for good storefronts, the cobbled stone streets were lined with vendors on both sides hawking their goods! There were a few large stands that seemed to be permanent fixtures, with their varied yet common goods allowing me to assume they were the equivalent to a convenience store; other than that it was a free-for-all, with merchants sitting at wheeled carts or just sitting on a tarp, oftentimes with limited variety due to their own specialisation.

They sold exotic fruits and vegetables, along with odd spices and spice-mixtures. There were fine rugs and furniture being sold out of large tents in what would otherwise have been an empty lot, and luxury good stands containing things like jewellery and handmade pottery and such were protected by very beefy looking zebras- their cold gazes and stiff posture practically screaming fuck around and find out. And most interesting of all were the stands that sold no goods at all; they were where you went if you needed raw materials like lumber or metals such as copper delivered to a jobsight, all done with a legal system of purchase orders and contracts to ensure no-one gets fucked. You can even put in rush orders, where the salesman passes the PO off to some lackey to literally run to get the delivery set up, ASAP.

If you’re ever in the market for copper though, keep an eye out if it’s sourced from some guy named Ea-Nasir. He adulterates his copper, is kind of a dick, and overall a major friggin’ shyster… or so they say.

Aside from the various stands hawking imported anything-and-whatever from Griffonia and abroad, including… Ugh… changeling honey… Well, last but not least consisted of the thing that currently caught my attention- the food vendors.

To find one, you can either open your eyes and look, or you can follow the wonderful smell of charcoal or boiling oil to find all sorts of delicacies! Vegetables were often grilled and smothered in something that reminded me of barbeque sauce, served in a clay bowl with a two-pronged fork- you just drop the bowl off after, when you’re done eating at one of the many rugs which sprawled around these grilling stations. They also sold grilled veggies on a stick among other things; And as a result of increasing popularity among the zebra’s, baskets of fries could be bought and topped with sauces, cheeses, mixed with salads, or even served on sandwiches!

But anyways, this is where we soon found ourselves: sitting on a rug in the shade, ready to eat lunch. Most zebra’s were smart enough to carry pillows around, Sinan included… I didn’t think to because I’m a stupid tourist, apparently. A nearby band played a beautiful, almost epic sounding string melody as I munched happily on a large bowl of mixed barbequed veggies. Sinan chipped away at one of three veggie-kebabs, while Anastasia sat between us, eyeing her lunch curiously.

“Is it any good?” She asked, poking at a piece of grilled onion. I chewed my latest bite quickly to answer-

“I’m eating it, aren’t I?” I remarked, ruffling her feathers. “Just do one piece at a time. Trust me.” After a few more moments of apprehension, she speared what looked to be a large carrot sliced long-ways. “And don’t forget to dip it in the sauce a little- otherwise it just pools in the bottom of the bowl.”

“O-Okay, Mamma.” She took one bite, and her eyes lit up! “Dish ish good!” She yelled, barely even taking the time to chew before she spoke.

“Chew before you speak, honey.” I intoned, returning to my lunch… only to see a slice of a pepper floating away in a blue aura. A faint crunch was heard, and I rolled my eyes.

“Steal the food right outta my mouth, why don’t ya?” I joked, patting the rug to invite Emmie to join us. “I was wondering when you’d show!”

“Hey, Uncle Em!” Anastasia yelled, getting our attention. “Did you get yourself some of this stuff yet?” Her fork gestured towards the bowl, and Emmie chuckled.

“Ah, not right now. It’d spoil my dinner!” He said, ruffling her feathers. He turned to look at me and asked-

“You and Sinan still got that thing tonight?” With matching smirks, Sinan and I just glanced at each other.

“You sure you don’t mind?” I asked, and he shrugged.

“I was just gonna spend the rest of the day shopping with you three and hit the library later on.” He then looked down at Annie- “Anastasia, would you be alright with me keeping an eye on you later?” He asked politely, and Annie cocked an eyebrow.

“Anastasia, I’m gonna need you to stay with Uncle Em for a bit tonight.” I said, wrapping my wing around her back. “Sinan and I have a boring meeting to attend, you wouldn’t like it.”

She shifted slightly, seemingly unsure. “But… but I don’t wanna go to the library, I wanna be with you!” She beamed, and I flashed an apologetic look towards Em.

“And you will be with me! I’ll try not to be out that late.” I said, “Besides- we have the rest of the afternoon together! We’re gonna go shopping and explore the city a little after lunch; all of us, as a family.” I slapped Sinan’s shoulder, followed by Emmie’s. “And hey! Maybe your Uncle Em will tell you another story?” I suggested.

“... Okay, Mamma!” I ruffled her feathers, returning to my lunch.

“Now let’s eat, I’m starving!” I said, digging into the veggies again. Who knew eating healthy was this easy?

---

The library building was as old as the rest of the Abyssian architecture, and aside from the main temple, was the only building left intact by the sacking and burning of the original city. The only thing that was retrofitted was the ceiling itself, having rotted out long ago. It was quiet there- as this time of the day, most spent their free time in the market.

“Uncle Em?” Anastasia piped up, breaking the customary silence of the library. “When can we go home?” He pulled his pocket watch out of his vest, eyeing the ancient tome before him curiously. He then shrugged, throwing in a cheap bookmark and slamming it shut.

“I guess I can just borrow this book, then.” Anastasia’s smile upturned immediately, and she wasted no time getting off the uncomfortable stone bench.

“Are we still gonna stay on the ship?” She asked curiously, matching his pace as the two made their way towards the front desk.

“For now, until we depart for the desert.” He set the book on the counter, getting the attention of the librarian. “Hey there! I need to borrow this book, please.”

Coins clinked inside his purse as he dug through it… only to hear something utterly unacceptable to him.

“We do not allow the borrowing of books here.” His accent was thick, but at least he didn’t speak in couplets. Emmie just looked at the zebra behind the desk with a curious, yet thoroughly unamused look.

With a mostly flat voice, underlined by a sort of arrogant sassiness, he spoke- “Let’s say… I’m some big, strong griffon standing here. You still gonna tell me no?” He leaned against the counter coolly, causing the clerk to flinch.

“Your… the answer is no!” he declared, refusing to get shaken down! “You can not intimidate me. If you do not leave, I will tell the guard that the blue stone-skull has been a nuis-EGH!”

Just like that, all his bravado turned to crippling fear; in the middle of the sentence, his throat felt like it was being squeezed shut- the likely source standing in front of him.

“I am borrowing this book for the night. It will be returned tomorrow.” He spoke plainly, and the zebra nodded his head rapidly. Emmie’s horn stopped glowing and the zebra clutched his neck, gasping for air; he looked up in utter terror, the unicorn across from him looking down with a grin. “You’re lucky the kid was here.”

Anastasia stood there with her jaw dropped- and a pat on the back snapped her out of it. Wordlessly, the two made their way out of the library.

Oh crap, did I scare her? Emmie thought nervously to himself, the two walking in utter silence to their destination. She just kept looking straight forward as the library disappeared from view behind them. Fuck, I hope-

“THAT WAS AWESOME!” Anastasia practically exploded in excitement, making Emmie startle. “Sorry, I had to wait until we were far enough.” The sheepish grin on her face and the routine behaviour of staying quiet told Emmie that this wasn’t an uncommon occurrence.

He just giggled, patting Annie on the head.

“Will my sis learn how to do that?” She asked mirthfully, and Emmie smirked.

“If her mother allows it, maybe.” By now, the sun was falling- but Emmie knew it’d be a while yet before Leona got back to the ship.

---

For Celestia, there are only a few pleasures in life which are unobtainable to her. But aside from that, she had it all- money, respect, power… whatever she wanted was only for the asking. She had access to the best medical care, with advancements in medicine able to cure or treat all sorts of ailments. The best chef’s in Equestria, with the freshest ingredients money could buy, often covered her breakfast table in elaborately fancy dishes…

But despite this, Celestia found her appetite to be lacking these past several years; as a result, the elaborate dishes were portioned out much smaller than they used to be. These days she was quite thin… closer to emaciated, actually.

She sat on a cushion, a gentle breeze wafting across the balcony of Celestia’s mountain villa. Her mane hung non-etherically down the sides of her head and neck as she bathed in the rays of the midday sun… the same one she lost the power to control so long ago.

Finally, she breathed out a sigh of boredom; it was time for the noon meds. As she slowly rose off the cushion, pain shot up her back ankle where it got sprained recently; but she powered through, seeing it as another symptom of incidental ageing to be treated with medication. All her joints hurt anyway- it was just a degree of how bad. And while her sister would normally help her… she slept in this morning, and Celestia didn’t want to wake her.

As she made her way to her bedroom dresser, she could already feel the anxiety washing away like sand in a rainstorm, her mood uplifting for the first time this morning. As she felt her heart palpitate slightly, she couldn’t help but wonder: Does nothing in this body work right anymore?

But that didn’t matter anymore. A reusable syringe made of brass had been thoroughly cleaned since its last use; several vials were scattered around the dresser’s top, and Celestia trembled lightly as she searched for a filled one.

“There!” The small glass bottle, labelled as Ketalar, had only been on the market for a few years- about six, at most. Despite the medical community decrying its addictive properties, Celestia still preferred it to opioids. It was far less dangerous, she thought.

She popped the wooden cork of the bottle and used the syringe to measure out a dose; an extra strong one, as her back had been bothering her that morning. The now-empty bottle was added to the pile as Celestia made her way to Her Throne.

… Which was essentially a giant beanbag chair she liked to read and listen to the radio at. She got comfy and turned the radio on, switching to her favourite classical music station, playing the epic symphonies that reminded her of her glory days.

Holding the syringe in her magic, she took a deep breath. It floated behind her, and she stared straight forward, using her magic to turn the radio up. A sharp pain in her rear indicated that she’d found her mark; she wasted no time in working the plunger, immediately feeling unusually woozy and causing her to unceremoniously yank it out of her asscheek and toss it to the side.

At first her thoughts screamed at her that the dose was too high; but when the syringe landed in the wall like a dart, she let out a faint, breathy laughter. Her breaths were deep and slow, the pain in her body seemingly melting away as the Ketamine took effect. She felt numb, so so numb…

Comfortably numb. Her vision blurred, and if she tried to talk, she’d be incomprehensible. It was an odd yet beautiful feeling to feel her very senses start to go numb; as if her very soul had shrunk, and was given free reign to move about her body as she pleased. Only half-connected to that undying shell of hers, she was floating on the pillows as a being of clouds, feeling like a gentle breeze would blow her away.

She was there for seconds… hours… days… weeks… years, maybe? If her vision wasn’t blurring as a side effect, a glance at the clock would reveal that it’d only been ten minutes. In her fog-dense mind, she couldn’t help but relish the idea of experiencing this feeling all day, every day… After all, the only thing her brain could focus on was the pleasure.

“Hey, fuckhead!” She heard Leona’s voice from within her bedroom, causing her neck to jerk as she surveyed the room… but no-one was there. Maybe she was half-asleep, and thought she heard something?

Then, a soft piano piece started playing. The Clair de Lune was a favourite of her sisters, and as such, that love rubbed off on her a little. She turned it up, a grin on her face as she thought of her sister… not in any particular context, mind you. In her fucked-up brain, her sister was equated to joy- plain and simple.

“BREAKING NEWS!” Once again, she was startled by a sudden voice- but this one was definitely real. It interrupted her music, making her feel angry… until he continued. “Terror in Canterlot today as a group of radicalists calling themselves the Brass Shoes claim responsibility for the murder of Duke Blueblood!”

She felt dizzy and nauseous. … Blueblood? My… My ponies! She thought to herself, panicking as she picked up and glared at the radio.

“They claim that in the name of change and revolution, many more must follow him.” The voice trailed off demonically, Celestia dropping and shattering it in utter terror as all sorts of black thoughts ran through her mind. In her delirium, she forgot the fact that her sister was asleep… or the fact that she was here in the first place.

She shook fiercely, sweating ice-cold bullets from her spot on her chair as her anxiety spiked tremendously. The world around her seemed to melt and fuse into itself, and her blurred eyesight was full of strange visions that made it seem like invisible people were hiding in her shadowless room.

Her sister was missing. She was out of the drug that alone made life seem tolerable. Assassins were out to get her, many in her very room. Nothing was sacred or right anymore; the original Pax Equestria had been shattered by some kid abusing an ancient artefact to incite race riots. It threatened to shatter once again, only this time more completely.

Worst of all: Celestia was deep in a k-hole, feeling like her brain was dissolving like tissue paper in water as she struggled to even move. She could only numbly paw at the ground trying to get up- but her body refused to budge. Running out of options and terrified beyond belief, Celestia’s addled brain could only think to do one thing.

LUUUUUNAAAAAA!

---

Stumbling home with Sinan, I couldn’t help but applaud my first experience with a Zebra hookah bar; not only was there plenty of booze and fried cheeses, our hookah was packed 50/50 with tobacco and weed.

I haven’t been here more than a day, and I feel like I’ve already achieved a sort of enlightenment as to the finer details of Zebra society… In so many words, these fuckers know how to party!

We were sitting on cushions in a rounded booth, smoking and drinking- when a couple zebras walked in and sat down, striking up an interesting conversation about the relationship between dick size and pleasure. Apparently it was a cultural thing… you know, hanging out with strangers you just met at a bar.

Sinan explained that the Hookah was a social activity, and the more people the merrier. Couldn’t argue with him.

Finally having made it to the bedroom, I spent a few moments lightly slapping the wall to find the switch, the lights revealing an excited looking Anastasia!

“Mamma!” She yelled, tackling me in a hug that almost knocked me on my ass; a glance at the wall told me it was one in the morning… a glance inward told me I was fucked up. I hugged her back with a wide grin. “How’d the meeting go?” She asked innocently as I made my way towards the bed.

“M’Good.” I said, flopping onto the bed, tossing my bandolier and hat wherever. I leaned over and kissed her forehead, my eyelids almost hurting the longer I kept them open.

“Do you wanna hear what Uncle Em did to borrow a book?” She enthused… and I just couldn’t be bothered, sleep taking me whether I wanted it to or not.

“T’morr.” I mumbled, my clothes negating the need for a blanket.

A faint sniffle got my attention. “Tissue’s intha bathroom.”

It was only later that I learned the sniffling wasn’t because of a cold.

Hey all! For anyone wondering... in the past, I've mentioned something about a Zebra archipelago. Well, this has been retconned entirely in favor of the andes-like geography creating a cultural schism. Sorry for the confusion!

That said... At some point towards the end, I plan on doing a second passthrough: I'm gonna be improving the earlier chapters, as well as cleaning up any inconsistencies throughout... maybe even add a couple extra scenes? :p

I have a discord server for this fic out now!! It'd be real cool if u joined :333

Also... ketamine is for horses, Celestia!
... oh, wait...
On an unrelated note, I've never actually done ketamine before. Dont plan to, either. Celestia needs it more than I do :p

Anyways... Thanks so much for reading! Likes and comments are greatly appreciated! :3