Children of the Deep

by rainbowhyphen

Rating: everyone
Tags: Adventure, Zecora, Twilight Sparkle, Original Character, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic
Length: 2397

When Twilight chases a mysterious tablet to the bottom of the sea, what slumbers in the depths may rise again.

A mysterious artifact has surfaced on Equestria's coast: a relic from a realm long passed into legend and myth. Newly-crowned Princess Twilight Sparkle is tasked with leading the expedition to research its place of origin, but the lost city of Fathom may not be as quiet as they expected.

(Cover art by Zedrin)

Published 2013-05-01 18:00:02 UTC
Last updated 2013-05-01 18:00:02 UTC

Chapter 1

Twilight schooled her face into the serene, becoming facade of princessdom she had already grown to detest. Self-imposed though her rules were—Celestia had surely never mentioned anything about decorum—there were rules, darn it. There were books about this sort of thing! Tons of them! That had to make it something worth doing.

A princess does not giggle gleefully, she mentally reprimanded herself. Even so, a hint of the forbidden expression bubbled out beneath as calm a face as she could muster under the circumstances—those being, of course, the very circumstances which always threatened to shatter her composure.

Science.

The lavender alicorn allowed herself an excited grin as she examined the object caught in her telekinetic thrall: a sheet of pristine ice, etched with mysterious runes and emanating a subtle cerulean glow that blended smoothly with Twilight’s magenta aura. Its every tiny facet sparkled in the orange light from the lamp hanging above the table, which rocked gently to and fro - the only evidence that the windowless room was, in fact, part of a ship.

“I’ve never seen anything like it,” Twilight managed at length. “Where did you say you found it, professor...”

“Delver,” answered the aging earth pony educator, his dusty brown coat and chestnut hair shot through with strands of gray. He wrote the ritual raiment of his profession: a tweed jacket, complete with elbow patches. If he was making any effort to control his own glee, he was doing an abysmal job of it. A broad grin split his features, and Twilight knew better by now than to assume it was a show for her sake.

“Delver,” Twilight echoed, lifting her gaze from the tablet long enough to offer a smile.

Professor Delver cleared his throat. “Yes, well, I certainly wish the story weren’t quite so mundane, but it seems a team of ice breakers working off the northwestern coast found it while clearing up the winter frost.” He reached out a hoof to run it over the artifact’s glassy surface, shivering slightly at its chill. “Nopony in the area could make heads or tails of ice that wouldn’t melt, so they sent it to the Academy, which is how it ended up in my hooves.”

Twilight nodded absently, closing her eyes and reaching out with her magic. She felt the enchantment flowing over the ice like a web of fine filaments billowing in an ethereal wind. It pulsed in response to her probing.

Since becoming an alicorn, Twilight had acquired a taste for earth pony and pegasus magic, and both had been welcome new facets of her relationship with the world. Pegasus magic was intrinsic and mystical in a way unicorn magic simply wasn’t. It was felt more than seen, empathized with more than understood. Where a spell cast by a unicorn would thrum and resonate in the presence of her thaumic birthright, the weft and warp of a cloudweaver’s craft would tense as though preparing to fight her for dominance.

And if pegasus magic was ethereal and tenacious, earth magic was primal and thunderously deep. Twilight had shuddered involuntarily the first time she felt the unbelievable power of the Everfree coursing through her hooves. It had felt like the whole world was rising up with the express intent of growing overtop her.

This, though. This was something new. Something entirely other. The cantrip that kept the ice tablet from melting was not of the earth, nor of the sky, nor of that ethereal thing that was the domain of unicorn magic. It wasn’t the quixotic power Discord commanded, nor the love over which Cadence held dominion, nor the warmth of Celestia’s sun or the cool shadow of Luna’s moon.

Twilight hummed to herself as she mentally pored over every source of power she had ever known. It certainly wasn’t like the Elements of Harmony, or the Alicorn Amulet, and it was even further from the acrid taste of Sombra’s dark power. It responded to her, but in an unfamiliar way: like a scared animal backing into a corner. It seemed to find her as alien as she found it.

Sighing, she forced her eyes open and scanned the script one more time. The language was as unrecognizable as the magic.

“I’ve got nothing,” she admitted. “It’s very obviously enchanted, but this magic is unlike anything I’ve ever encountered.”

Professor Delver visibly deflated. “I was worried you might say that.”

“But,” Twilight continued, reigniting her excited grin, “I brought somepony who just might.”

—

“I still don’t think you had to kick him in the head.” Rosetta Stone cocked an eyebrow as she tilted her map sideways and shared her gaze between the unhelpful parchment and a street sign, blowing her mane out of her face as she did so. “I think we’re supposed to be on Stallion Circle.”

“Stallion Court,” Tradewinds corrected absentmindedly, scanning the narrow alleys they passed - the gaps in the toothy grin of buildings that lined each side of the street, “and I did not kick him in the head! I was just getting his attention!”

“By kicking him in the head,” Rosetta muttered, pausing to stare at a road sign in an alphabet she was only vaguely acquainted with. “I think this is Stallion Way.”

“Aha! It’s Stallion Boulevard!” Tradewinds gesticulated excitedly as they arrived at a fork connecting three different roads. She examined each in turn, then buried her face in her hooves. All three were named Stallion.

“See, this is why creative writing should be a requirement for civil engineering,” Rosetta mused, smirking despite her annoyance.

Tradewinds waved a hoof dismissively. “Oh, this is nothing. You think Stalliongrad’s confusing? You should visit Manehattan—”

“I’ve been,” Rosetta interrupted.

“—most of the streets are numbered!” Tradewinds continued unabated, adopting a look of genuine horror. “Numbered!”

“At least it’s logical,” Rosetta said, steering them onto what she hoped was the right path.

It was early yet, and there weren’t many ponies willing to brave the morning chill. For some reason, Rosetta had expected Stalliongrad to be cold, but it was in fact temperate, and most of the city’s residents were no doubt still enjoying the relaxing tempo of the holidays, even though winter had officially been wrapped up for almost a week.

A few vendors dotted the streets, preparing for the inevitable flood of customers as the day warmed up. Asparagus had just made its way into season, and a few ponies were selling greenhouse-grown crops ranging from strawberries to roses. Rosetta smiled apologetically as a passing flower merchant offered her a bouquet of the latter.

“Нет спасибо,” she replied, taking care to pronounce her no-thank-you as politely and naturally as she could.

The pair walked in silence for a spell as the avenue widened to admit a greater variety of stalls setting up for the daily business.

“Yeah, sure, logical,” Tradewinds picked the conversation back up, rolling her eyes, “until somepony tells you to meet them at ‘fourteenth and third’ and that’s two different places—”

“Are we still on that? I’m pretty sure it’s Street, then Avenue.”

“And you’re left wondering whether you’re being stood up or you’re just in the wrong place, and—”

Their procession halted abruptly as Rosetta recognized the word “harbor” on a sign and skidded to a stop, sending Tradewinds crashing into her from behind.

“Oh look! We’re here! Thank Cel—wait, stood up? Was this the mathematician or the poet?”

Tradewinds didn’t answer the question, instead opting to stare blankly, her eyes and mouth competing in some kind of awestruck openness tournament. Rosetta Stone followed her friend’s gaze to the harbor.

And then up, and up, and up.

The majestic HMS Scarlet rose high into the morning sky. The low sun behind the pair exaggerated their shadows in the direction of the pier, and those cast by Scarlet’s towering masts stretched far out to sea, clawing at the very horizon as though to catch the moon as it fell from the sky.

The ruby red lacquered wood of the pride of the royal expedition fleet glimmered in the early light, and painted the sea around it as though the red stain were washing off into the water that cradled and gently rocked the towering vessel like the impetuous mother sailors knew it to be.

Rosetta Stone and Tradewinds exchanged an excited grin and galloped toward their next adventure.

—

Twilight fidgeted anxiously in the corner beside Professor Delver as Zecora scrutinized the tablet of enchanted ice. Her method of scrutiny, Twilight noted, seemed to involve green tea and lots of intense staring. And not much else. It took all of her willpower not to tap her hooves impatiently.

“What’s she doing?” whispered Delver, never taking his eyes from the zebra shaman seated placidly on a cushion before the examination table.

“Beats me,“ Twilight admitted. “Zecora has an insight into this kind of thing that is utterly beyond me. That’s why I knew it would be wise to bring her along.”

Zecora’s face contorted at the quiet speech, and Twilight smiled apologetically before allowing silence to reign again.

The tension in the room thickened once more as Zecora hummed softly to herself and sipped her tea, stopping occasionally to close her eyes and apparently meditate.

After a few tortured moments, Delver spoke again. “Do you think she’ll—”

“Find the answer? Well, you’ll never know,” Zecora interrupted, standing up and splitting her glare between the two, “if you keep disrupting my focus so!”

Delver gulped and made to apologize, but Twilight forestalled him with a hoof on his shoulder.

“Sorry Zecora, we’ll leave you to it,” she offered, turning and motioning for Delver to follow her out.

“Wait, Twilight,” Zecora cut in, frowning, “forgive my being curt. I did not mean my words to hurt.”

Twilight smiled. “No harm done. I know you’re here for me.” She turned once more toward the door, but paused on her way out with a mirthful grin. “Because my eyes are blind to what you see.”

—

A kingfisher cried overhead, one of the many birds come to skim the harbor’s surface for the fish that hadn’t yet embarked on their annual voyage to spawning grounds elsewhere. Twilight followed their flight with her gaze to the rocky shore, where another boat full of supplies was unmooring, shoving off for the Scarlet in its deeper station.

“What’s with the rhymes?” asked Professor Delver, joining Twilight at the railing to watch the sun rise over the silhouetted Stalliongrad skyline.

Twilight twisted her neck, sore as it was from bending over research materials all night. She wholeheartedly looked forward to joining Rarity and Fluttershy at the spa upon her triumphant return to Ponyville.

“I’m not sure,” she answered, mulling the question over. “Part of zebra culture maybe? Or something to do with her talents as a mystic?”

Delver looked dumbfounded. “You’ve never asked her?”

“Oddly enough, I never thought much of it.” Twilight squinted into the sun, imagining she could see Celestia guiding it in its path, and smiling at the thought. “It’s hardly the weirdest thing about any of my friends.”

Delver raised an eyebrow. “Compulsive rhyming isn’t weird?”

Twilight laughed a little, contemplating her friends. Where to start? The apple farmer who once caused a stampede of bunnies? The pegasus with a fear of flying but no fear of bears? The paradoxically enthusiastic and unbelievably lazy speed demon? The fashion designer who perceived any potential for mess as a formal declaration of war? The... whatever Pinkie Pie was?

Twilight giggled at the absurdity of it all.

“Honestly, I think she lives in the Everfree because Ponyville is too weird for her.”

Delver opened his mouth, though he had nothing useful to say with it. As luck would have it, another voice filled the void.

“Oh my goodness! It’s her! It’s her!”

Twilight’s ears twitched at the all-too-familiar tone with which she had of late been addressed. She donned as best she could the still ill-fitting mask of royalty as she turned to welcome the newest member of the Official Princess Twilight Sparkle Fan Club, only to drop it when she recognized the ponies approaching them.

Twilight brightened. “Hey! Wait, don’t tell me. It was... Windy, right?” she asked, extending a hoof in greeting, which the pale blue pegasus mare eagerly shook, her curly white mane bouncing as she did so.

“Tradewinds, your majesty. Er, highness. Um. Eminence?” Tradewinds adopted a pondering expression.

Twilight giggled. “I’d prefer just ‘Twilight,’ if you don’t mind.”

“Sure thing!” Tradewinds beamed. “And you can call me Windy; all my friends do.”

“Windy it is,” Twilight chuckled, turning to the other pony—a unicorn mare with a dusty red mane and a coat the color of sandstone, infinitely more composed than her companion. “And Rosetta Stone. I remember you.”

“Rosie is fine,” Rosetta said, smiling politely. “Nice to see you again. Royalty suits you.”

Twilight raised an eyebrow. “You think? I’m not sure I like the added attention, but it’s a great honor, of course.”

“Oh, definitely,” Tradewinds answered. “Hey, what ever became of King Amethyst’s horn, anyway?”

“Not sure,” Twilight said, frowning in thought. “Celestia only said something about it being in the care of ‘top mares.’”

Before Rosetta could voice thoughts to complement her bewildered expression, the door to the research room on the main deck flew open with a concussive crack, ejecting a rather disconcerted zebra in the process.

Twilight gasped and took off for Zecora where she lay against the railing. The others swarmed around them.

“Oh my gosh, Z, are you alright?” Twilight’s ears drew back against her head in worry as she looked over her fallen friend. “Let me go get the nurse.”

“I am fine, Twilight my dear,” she answered, her expression darkening, “but I have news which you must hear.”

Zecora struggled to her hooves, her eyes squeezed shut in concentration. All other eyes were on her as she began to speak.

In winter’s twilight take the north wind’s breath

And sail upon the surface of the sky.

Leave home behind and set out for the west,

And never stop to wonder why.

In twice a dawning seek Orion’s haunt

And strike your sail for sunlight’s sleep.

Beneath the waves, you’ll find the truth you want.

Zecora swallowed audibly as she drew upon the end of the poem.

In darkness dwell the children of the deep.