Corsairs

Lesson Zero: In Glaring Light

Terror often graced the dreams of ponies. Fear took thousands of intangible forms.

Tonight stood out.

The dusk guard’s patrol had taken an unexpected turn. She found her steps in the dreams of an unknown host.

So many times had she walked the lands of darkness. So frequently had she trod on ethereal ground, yet she did not recognize this land’s architect.

It mattered not. All ponies deserved to be freed from their fears.

A familiar heaviness welled around her. Her body was weary, gravity anchored her here. She sank gradually as she stood in place.

She ripped her hooves from the dirt, then noticed four iridescent holes where they had just been, like the film of a bubble. The colors swirled together to leave a set of flat, white hoofprints.

Furrowing her brow, she tipped her head up. Two dozen black stars starkly contrasted with a milky sky.

Details were missing everywhere. This wasn’t a conjuration of fantasy, nor was it a memory.

“Prophecy?” She shuddered at the thought. “We thought they were rid of that curse.”

She faded away from her corporeal self. She struggled to pull her spirit through the unnatural pain of leaving her natural form to delve into the unconscious of the dreamer. Her body exhaled, fixed eyes on the sky, then disintegrated gradually starting with the tip of her nose all the way down to her shoes.

Her mind passed through the imagined space infinitely quicker than her body ever could have.

A null force pressed against her temple. She released her projection to find herself hovering over Canterlot Mountain.

The dying peak loomed over the sea. Cracking rock held onto the jagged cliff face as crashing brine tried to drag it down. More colorful spots appeared where the waves receded, then warped into that unsettling white.

Something more distinct finally showed itself on the horizon, an ominous mass drawn in by a sluggish tide.

“Interesting...”

She glided down to investigate.

The small raft bobbed gently. She drew in her wings to touch down and heard the clang of hollow metal beneath her. A strange noise droned persistently from inside. It was faint, but audible.

‘PAWN A-5 θ’ was engraved with precision on the hull. The welding was tight, the seams almost invisible, at least from above. The side welds were sloppy, definitely not meant to last, maybe not even for a return trip.

She rubbed her forehead, puzzling a moment before casting her gaze east.

A non-menacing fleet lingered off in the distance. They were probably more of these platforms she was standing on.

It seemed like a good idea to check.

In such large numbers they looked like bits of driftwood creeping in. Large, metal, serialized driftwood.

The sides were crudely labeled with that same word: ‘PAWN’, followed by a slew of assorted symbols, some of which were completely unrecognizable.

“Pawn...” She shook her head, staring off into unfinished edges of the world.

What about the first one? She caught sight of it gently colliding with the mountainside.

There it rested.

She shifted focus back to the group to take count. On first impression she estimated forty.

“So many, but–”

Her ears perked.

A remote sound.

A deafening roar derailed her train of thought.

PAWN A-5 θ’s hull ruptured, sending splintered, jagged metal scrap and ripples of force in all directions. clouds of fire poured forth, engulfing the entirety of the temporal world. Violet light poured through the cracks of pseudo existence, tearing her from the plane of the dream.

“Luna!”

“Sister...”