Gregor set down a small device that would speak to the ship, and through that, get to his superior. "I come with new words."
His face appeared, a bust figure that floated there, showing in light. "Have you returned from your visit?"
"I have not. I was overwhelmed, but felt it urgent to report immediately." Gregor bowed towards the image, his fingers pressed together from one hand to the other. "They have shown trust in one hand, and ability in the other."
"In what way is this? Speak plainly, for their judgment rests in what you say." His superior was frowning slightly as he floated there.
"She has proven in word and demonstration that her people plan for the future, and are ready to bleed for it. They are far above any animal species," he started, remembering the grand vision of the city from above and the sacrifices that were made to create it. "They have erected a vast monument to their light, to cast its brilliance across the majority of their nation, for all to see and be warmed by."
"They are not far unlike the Shantor in appearance, are they not? Do they not share--"
"They are nothing like the Shantor," cut in Gregor before holding up a hand. "I apologize for speaking out of turn, Father."
"How strongly you speak... Enlighten me."
"They have long since overcome the limitation of their hooves. They build cities, not herd. They construct monuments of grand beauty, not primitive monuments. For better or worse, they understand the dark temptation of magic, but they rise from it, their souls collectively pure." He extended his fingers as he counted off each distinct difference, spreading his hands. "They know of our threat and of the universe, and their eyes are turned to it with curiosity and acceptance, not fear."
"You speak of their souls, but what do you know of that?" His leader leaned towards him as far as the image would allow. "You know precious little of soul theurgies."
"I would need to be blind," defended Gregor. "They have shown me their vision of hell, a real place of cold stone, where their most wicked are imprisoned, punished in separation from the warmth of the light. I have felt his forked tongue, wagging with lies and manipulation."
"You speak with clear conviction. Tell me then, what is your decision?" He was watching Gregor intently. "What would you proclaim of their souls?"
"I dare not assume I have that rank. In my untrained eyes, their souls shine with His brilliance. Their way is not ours, but it is not a bad way."
"I see." He blinked out, the room becoming darker without the image, leaving Gregor facing an inactive device, without answers.
Aboard the ship, the elder priest scowled as he turned, waving a hand towards another device, soon a new head appearing. "He stands aside the aliens, as his sort are quick to do. He sees not even a speck of darkness in them and singe their praises. Amaltheans be damned for their impure thoughts."
"It is as we saw it. He would defend the right of a common dog to hear and howl the words of God." replied the other floating head, a concerned look on his face. "But it is not just his words that speak idle lies, seduced by furry demons with kind faces. Our agents hear that one of them grows heavy with the blasphemous production of the sin of bestiality made physical."
The first faintly cringed with disgust.
"It was Hawkwood's own agent that has slept with these animals," added the other. "This only deteriorates. The universe cannot suffer this. We were bade by the Pancreator to hold dominion over all."
"Are we to declare their souls unfit then?"
The other hiked a brow. "Unfit? That is to assume they have any to start. Unclean and sinful, they need to be purged with the hottest flame we can manage. Already I have sent word for reinforcements. We will clean this world of filth."
"As you wish it." He bowed towards the image, remaining bowed until the image faded. "Pancreator watch over us."
Laud was poked in the chest with a wooden sword. It was held in the mouth of one of his wives, Bon Bon. "I challenge you," she firmly stated, eyes locked on him.
"I am not of the habit of accepting challenges without a basis." He brushed her sword aside, but she swatted him on the chest almost instantly.
"You are guilty of making me criminally bored while waiting on your spawn to finish ruining my figure." She prodded at him, stepping forward. "Do you not defend yourself, or are the rumors of Hawkwood bravery just so much hot air?"
He suddenly grabbed her sword, knuckles taut in his firm grip. "Do not make jests of my house. I know you are suffering, and for that I put it--"
She yanked the sword clear of his hand, dancing back. "Enough talk. Draw or admit you're a coward."
"Wife... I will not cross blades with you, not right now." He held up his hands. "You can pummel me if that makes you feel better, just leave my house out of it."
She huffed loudly, spitting the wooden blade to the ground. "What's the fun in that? Entertain me, damn you."
He offered a hand, and she took it, approaching and resting her cheek against it. "I am sorry," he spoke gently, starting to stroke over her form. "This is something I can know little of, being a man."
"That's a 'you' problem," she grunted before backing up a step. "The thing I hate most is that you all treat me as if I were about to fall apart at any moment."
"We care for you. I won't deny that, or feel guilty for it."
"I care about you, moron. I still could give you a poke and thrash you in a spar if you'd let me!" She stomped a hoof. "I can't run my shop. I can't do anything but... be."
"Have you tried that?" he ventured, brow raised.
"Then I have to think about what's coming, and that's hardly comfortable right now..." She glanced away and back, looking to the wooden sword on the ground briefly. "I'd rather cause some bruises right now."
"But not without a fight," he ventured gently.
"If I wanted to bash a stone, I'd already be doing that." Bon Bon rolled her eyes softly before stepping back into his reach. "If you won't allow that, get to rubbing. I want the itches banished and the sore spots shown love."
"This is a request I will oblige." He began to gently stroke and scratch at his filling wife, willing to work for her comfort.
Gregor emerged from his room, prayers still warm on his lips. It was a new day. "Good morning," he bade Spike.
Spike looked up from his chair, just finishing breakfast. "Hey! You want to head back or check out the city?"
Part of him wanted to see the splendid city of the ponies, but the way he had been dismissed... "We should head back, I feel... (We are returning)." He directed the last bit towards his guard who rose, ready to move. "Thank you, for serving as our guide."
"Not a problem at all." He hopped down from his chair and started walking. "You get good sleep? You look a little... off."
"I'm fine," he lied with an equally false smile. "Just some lingering thoughts bothering me." That much was truth. "Thoughts I feel may be banished when we have returned. It is nothing, certainly nothing involving you, Good Squire."
"Well, alright." Spike shrugged lightly. "If you need anything, just ask. It's my job to make sure everything's good for your trip."
Gregor could not think of a way Spike could meaningfully assist. "Thank you for offering. I will be sure to inform Laud of your commendable service."
Spike beamed proudly, leading the way back through the city to the train. He'd see his wards back to Ponyville without a single problem. He had done well, as far as he could see. He'd even held his own in a spar against a real noble. What a day... "You should come back sometime, when you're not busy. You know, enjoy the sights."
"I would like that." Gregor nodded as he boarded the train that would take him back towards his ship and his faithful. "But not today, unfortunately."
They arrived in Ponyville later. Without being told, Pinkie was there to greet them. "Welcome back, Spike!" She was waving a sign in her hooves that showed a doodle of a dragon with a knight's helmet and two humans equally crudely depicted and was eagerly bouncing it as she cheered their arrival.
"Did you tell her we were coming?" asked Gregor with a soft smile, stepping free of the train.
"She's just like that. She has a hunch for things." Spike shrugged softly. "Good thing she's on the good guy side. Hey, Pinkie!" He waved a little, half his attention on making sure his human wards got off the train properly, not that they seemed to have much trouble doing it.
"Spiiike!" She threw the sign aside and jumped at him, wrapping him up in an eager hug before she threw out a hoof towards Gregor. "And you're the important human Spike was showing around Canterlot, right? Nice to meet you! I'm Pinkamena Diane Pie, but Pinkie will do just fine."
"And I am Father Gregor." He offered a hand towards her, and she grasped it quickly, pressing but one hoof against it and somehow getting a firm dry grip as she shook it in the firm fashion of any human.
"We haven't really had a chance to talk. You busy?"
He glanced to Spike and his guard and off to the star ship landing pad. "I... should get back."
"Oh, that's too bad." She released him and sank to her haunches. "Lemme know when you have a moment." She held up two hooves close to each other. "Shouldn't take long, promise! I know you're an important one." She threw a hoof towards his guard. "Hello to you too! Don't be shy!"
The guard stood there impassively, not reacting to the offered hand. Gregor raised a hand with a gentle smile. "He does not understand Ponish, and doesn't speak often while charged with his duties."
Spike suddenly saluted. "He's a soldier, with responsibilities. Kinda like me, with less awesome titles involved."
"Ohhhh," gushed Pinkie, bobbing her head with comprehension. "Like the Royal Guard, got it. Sorry." She gestured towards the landing pad. "Welcome back to Ponyville! Heading to your ship?"
"I am. Thank you." With the kind smile he had long cultivated, he nodded to her and began his trek back to his ship, his guard trailing behind.
Spike did not follow them. "I'm heading back to the castle." He hiked a thumb towards the great crystal structure that held his family. "Gotta tell Laud how things went."He suddenly giggled, balling his fists with a big grin. "He's gonna be sooo proud!"
"Ooo?" Pinkie leaned forward. "Did you do something super amazing? Do tell!" She began to bounce alongside him, looking eager to hear the story.
"Well, I ran into an old friend. Remember Blueblood?"
Pinkie stuck out her tongue. "Bet Rarity won't ever forget him. What about him?"
"Did you know he likes to sword fight?" His grin took on a wry smirk. "And some squire showed him just how rusty he was at it?"
Pinkie burst into gay laughter, throwing an arm over Spike's shoulders. "Oh wow! You have to tell Rarity about that! She'll go right over the moon I bet!"
Spike froze a moment. He hadn't even considered that angle. But... "Huh... maybe..." Could he win the lady Rarity's heart with a tale of subduing her former antagonist? Wouldn't that be nice...