The sun rose on the city early that morning, any blood spilled the previous night having long since been washed away. Of course, none in the governor’s mansion knew that any blood had been spilled, so whatever had happened in the city last night never entered their thoughts. Breakfast was a leisurely affair, as Prince Blueblood ate quickly and left the six mares to their own devices, with Geoffrey standing by to oversee their conversations and provide any assistance.

“Have any of you seen Spike?” Fluttershy asked as she quietly sipped her tea. The others looked at her, their own conversations about how to deal with Chrysalis being put on hold for the time being. The queen was not in her palace in her own country, if changelings even had palaces, and even if she was, there was no telling just how long a journey there would take, or even how dangerous it would be.

“Haven’t seen him since yesterday, ‘Shy,” Applejack said as she took a none-too-dainty bite out of a nice juicy apple. Pinkie Pie shook her head, her mouth too full of creamy tarts to say anything.

“Me neither,” Rainbow Dash said, moving an errant strand of her mane out of her face. "He's awfully secretive for just having been reunited with his friends."

“Maybe he decided to sleep in?” Twilight added. “I mean, he did just start getting better, and I doubt he was afforded much sleep in his time with those pirates.”

“Darling, why don’t you ask one of the servants where he is?” Rarity said, setting down her tea. “They should know, I would think.”

“Yes, but, I... I... I’m too nervous,” Fluttershy said, her voice dropping to an octave above a whisper. Fluttershy always liked the ponies that waited on her back in her own home: they were quiet, loved animals as much as she did, and many were friendly with everypony they met. The servants here, though; they were all business whenever she was around them, and she never heard them have polite conversations. All they ever seemed to do besides work and frown was gossip, and much of it was things she didn’t like hearing about.

“My dear, then why don’t you go look for him?” Rarity asked again, curious as to why Fluttershy wanted to know where Spike was. Come to think of it, she too was wondering where he was; you’d think he’d be anxious to share a breakfast with his friends after being gone for so many years. It had certainly seemed that way the day before, when he went on and on about his adventures after listening to their own happenings during his disappearance.

“I... I would, but this place... I don’t like going anywhere... alone,” Fluttershy said as softly as before, wincing slightly at the word “alone”. Oh, they must thing of her as some silly little scaredy-pony! She, an heiress and a mare in her own right, afraid to walk by herself in the very place she was currently residing; oh, the embarrassment ate her up on the inside.

“Fluttershy, if you wanted to go looking for him but were too scared to go by yourself, all you had to do was ask one of us to go with you,” Twilight said as she glanced up from the report she had received that morning. Oh, just some little thing about how her brother had established a new alchemist library in the Crystal Empire.

“I’ll go,” Rarity said, albeit a tad too quickly. “I mean, surely he is not preoccupied with anything of great importance, right?” Oh, her impatience and own anxiousness were getting the better of her!

“O-of course, Rarity,” Fluttershy said softly, rising to her hooves and smoothing out a few wrinkles in her gown.

“Misses Rarity and Fluttershy, I do believe I know where Spike is,” Geoffrey said, stepping forward as Rarity too rose to her hooves. “The last I saw him, which was early this morning mind you, he was heading down to the armory, though that was some time ago. I do not know if he is still there, but it couldn’t hurt to look. Would you care for me to accompany the both of you?”

“Why, Geoffrey, that would be positively gentlecoltly of you,” Rarity said, a genuine smile gracing her features. “How in the world did you become such a polite, and I must say rather dapper, gentlecolt?”

“Years upon years of servitude, good miss,” the butler said, opening the door for them to pass through. He in turn looked at the four other mares. “Will you ladies require anything else whilst I am indisposed?”

“No, Geoffrey, though thank you for asking. We can take care of ourselves for the time being,” Twilight said, wishing the rest of the mansion’s staff acted with even half the grace and dignity of Geoffrey. He was the epitome of the world’s most efficient servant, and even in that Twilight held him in a higher esteem than she did many of the stallions that were born into royalty.

Wandering through the halls right behind Geoffrey, the pair of mares continuously peered around, looking into every open room they passed by on their way. Seeing nothing of interest, they stopped when the butler brought them down to a set of large doors.

“I believe he is in here,” the stallion replied, opening the doors for them both. The torches inside were burning brightly, since there were no windows or similar means through which sunlight could enter. “Should you require anything else, I shall be waiting outside these doors for you.”

“Thank you, Geoffrey,” Fluttershy said as the pair of mares walked into the room. Peering around, they could not see Spike, nor anypony else. It was empty, all right, save for the few tables and chairs stacked off in a corner.

“I see a few doors,” Rarity said, walking around as Fluttershy remained fixed in the center of the room. “Shall we check behind them?”

“S-sure, Rarity,” Fluttershy said, walking past the fellow heiress and grasping one door’s handle. Opening it, she found herself staring death in the face. Or at least, pointy death arranged neatly on shelves and racks: swords and muskets lay in neat little rows in the small room. But, there was no Spike in there, so she gently closed the door and moved onto another one.

Rarity, on the other side of the room, opened another door to find what appeared to be a bathhouse. A large basin, fed by pipes trailing down from the ceiling, and the spacious area it covered likely meant this was reserved for the mayor, or in this case, Prince Blueblood. Rarity has always wondered if there had been another bathing station in this mansion, as the showers for the guests seemed a bit too... simple, for such a place. This was surely the place Blueblood would bring any “lady friends”, if he had any, actually.

“He’s not in here Fluttershy,” Rarity said, closing the door and looking back at her friend. “Fluttershy?”

The yellow pegasus was standing stock-still, looking into a room far off in the corner. Walking up behind her, Rarity knew something was off. Fluttershy’s wings were standing on end, almost as if she were in fright, and yet... she wasn’t trembling like she normally did. Walking up beside the pegasus, Rarity poked her gently in the shoulder. No response: whatever was in that room had grabbed her attention so intensely, the yellow mare had seemingly forgotten about the outside world. Sidling up next to Fluttershy, Rarity peered in through the door, and felt her eyes nearly bug out of her skull.

They had found Spike, all right, facing away from them and all by himself. He was in what appeared to be akin to a training room, complete with assorted dumbbells, benches and various other instruments of physical enhancement. At that moment he was performing pull-ups on a large overhead beam, with grooves indicating this was precisely the reason such a beam was even in the room. However, the fact that he was effortlessly pulling himself up again and again was not the reason the two mares found themselves staring in awe, nor was it the fact his tail was simultaneously lifting a dumbbell that had to weigh a good hundred pounds. It wasn’t the fact that the rather brightly-lit room carried with it a fragrance of sweat, earth and a slight musk, either.

Spike was wearing only a set of short pants, reaching down to about his knees. Normally Rarity would have wondered where he got such an unusual set of clothes, as such things were rarely seen outside of a country home, but at the moment, all thoughts of clothes and fashion-related items faded away from her mind. No, she now knew why Fluttershy had stopped and seemed to be off in a world of her own.

Spike had never been a large specimen before he had left them to fill that job on a schooner, but all these years later, Rarity now knew they had all been wrong. He had filled in, along with gaining the height he had, and it clearly showed. The years, even though they had been filled with hard and often slave-like labor, had been kind to him indeed. A broad and yet compact back, with knotted muscles flexing beneath his scales with every pull up; his long, muscular tail bulged every time it lifted up the dumbbell. Biceps and triceps, defined in ways Rarity had not thought possible, glinted in the light of the torches of the room, and she could see him clenching the muscles in his lower back every time he let himself down.

After a few minutes, Spike’s tail set the dumbbell down on a bench, and then let himself drop to the ground. Landing without so much as a bounce, he grabbed a towel and began wiping his face off, turning around as he did so.

Fluttershy had always known a superior biological specimen when she saw one; it was, after all, part of her cutie mark in caring for animals. Some male elk might be bigger and have larger antlers, or a male eagle might have a larger wingspan than most, or even a female sturgeon might lay countless more eggs than those of her same age. In her mind’s eye, Spike was no exception to this rule; he exemplified it.

A trim waistline, with abdominal muscles that looked like stacked bricks; pectoral muscles that looked as though they could crush stone between them. He exuded testosterone and manliness, something the majority of noble-born stallions lacked. Spike was technically a commoner by birth, even though he had grown up by Twilight’s side and had been raised in and around the court of Canterlot for nearly his entire life.

“Oh, hello,” Spike said as he moved the towel from his face to the back of his neck, his arm bulging as he scrubbed himself. “I didn’t hear you knock.”

The two mares just stood in silence, unsure of what to say: they hadn't knocked at all.

“Did I miss breakfast?” Spike asked again, walking past the two slack-jawed mares and out into the main room.

“Well, no, we... we were just wondering where you had been,” Rarity said, since all Fluttershy was able to do was emit a small squeak.

“I must have forgotten to tell Geoffrey I would be down here for a while,” the dragon said as he grabbed a small pile of clothes the two hadn’t noticed. “I will be with you all shortly; right now, I need to wash up.”

“Yes, yes, of course,” Rarity said, coming to her senses and snapping out of the apparent trance she had been in. “Come Fluttershy, we should be getting back to the others.”

The yellow mare said nothing as she followed the unicorn mare, glancing back at Spike every now and then as they left him alone. Closing the door and thanking Geoffrey for showing them the way, the two departed, setting course for the dining room once more.

Geoffrey, upon seeing them disappear behind a corner, opened the door and found himself looking at Spike, who had just reached the door to open it. “Pardon me sir, I had not expected them to come looking for you this late in the day,” the butler said as Spike walked through the open door. “I had thought they would seek you out at a much earlier to me.”

“That is fine, Geoffrey, and thank you for showing them the way,” the dragon said as the pair walked off. “Although, it is probably a good thing that they didn’t come looking for me right away; I had been using that wonderful bath system a few hours ago. Imagine the looks on their faces if they had found me in there!”

The two chuckled at that; indeed, it would have been rather amusing to see the mares’ reactions to him being completely naked. “Sir, if I may ask, when do you plan on arriving at your meeting with Prince Blueblood?” Geoffrey asked as they passed a pair of maids. One of the maids, upon seeing Spike in his shorts, nearly fainted away with a smile on her face, the other barely managing to catch her before she fell.

“Soon after I finish breakfast, though I doubt I will be there for long,” Spike said as they reached his room. “If he sends you a letter urging me to be there, please notify me as soon as possible. Other than that, if you need me, I will be with my friends.”

Later...

Breakfast, it turned out, had been a rather busy affair. Spike, upon arrival, had immediately been swamped with questions on the history of the pirates he had “served” under by Twilight, much to the chagrin of everypony else who had to endure her prattling. Pinkie Pie and Applejack had been interested in what kinds of food pirates ate, and Rainbow Dash had pestered him for a good ten minutes on how they sailed their ships through storms and such. Rarity and Fluttershy, on the other hand, had been rather quiet, which Spike believed had something to do with them walking in on him during his workout routine.

Even so, it was ten minutes until noon that Spike arrived in what Geoffrey had referred to as “Prince Bluebloods brooding room”, as that was “all he seemed to do in there”. Spike’s eyes were immediately drawn to the large map table in the center of the room, so much so that he almost forgot Blueblood was even there.

“Greetings, Spike,” the stallion said as he walked away from a set of documents and towards the map table. “I trust you had a pleasant night’s sleep?”

“You could say that,” Spike said, absentmindedly scratching his chin as he walked up to the table. “This map... would it happen to show the Isles of the Changelings?”

“No, for I am afraid we know little if anything about what their country truly looks like at the moment,” the prince said. “What, with all that volcanic activity going on out there, new islands are being created every year around the old ones. Even if we could map it out, the maps would likely be rendered obsolete within three years or less, depending on how much terraforming the changelings are able to perform.”

“Indeed,” the dragon said as his eyes swept over the city of Port Royal. “Tell me, what exactly is this proposition you spoke of the other night?”

“Ah, well, perhaps it is best if we cut to the chase,” Blueblood said, waving his hand over the map. Instantly, little dots appeared all along the coastlines: red, black, and green. “These red dots symbolize where there have been pirate attacks, or at least attempted acts of piracy, by those wishing to make a name for themself. As you can see, they are few and far between, since most pirate attacks by these nobodies usually end in them being sunk by our defense fleet. These green dots, on the other hand, represent where the Sea Wraith has attacked ships.”

“There are quite a few more of them than I thought there would be,” Spike said. “I was usually below decks whenever they went to battle with another ship.”

“Quite,” the prince said, pointing at the third color. “These black dots, as numerous as they are, represent attacks by the Phantom. Have you, by chance, ever heard of this ship, or encountered it in your travels?”

“I... do not believe so,” Spike replied, his eyes perusing the sheer number of green and black dots. “Judging from the number of places they have struck, I would surmise they are a force to be reckoned with, and as such the captain aboard the Sea Wraith sought to avoid any potential conflict with them.”

“A sound theory, though there have been alleged sightings of the two ships sailing together every now and then,” Blueblood said as he waved his hand again. Immediately, three new things showed up on the map: large golden circles around the coastal towns, forts and cities, bright blue dots concentrated near the centers of these circles, and long magenta ribbons trailing off into the edges of the map. “All of these together represent the zones of control for the ships within our defensive navies. These gold circles are the judicial boundaries of each city and town, along with their zone of influence. As you can see, the larger the city, the greater its’ influence over the surrounding areas. The farther these zones reach out into the ocean, the farther our fleets have jurisdiction out to sea.”

“What of smaller towns and forts within a large city’s zone?” Spike asked.

“They count as part of that larger city’s zone, but they themselves have smaller zones that can help expand a city’s region of control,” the prince said. “These blue dots represent our merchant and similar trading fleets. As you can see, they follow these magenta lines to and from our coastal cities. These lines are our most common trade routes with other countries.”

“They seem to coincide with the fewest pirate attacks,” Spike said, looking closely at the map.

“You would be half correct in this. For some reason, these pirates are only attacking our fleets, and not the fleets of other countries,” Blueblood said as he lazily traced an outline along the coast. “We have every reason to believe whomever is doing this wants Equestria to suffer by itself, as involving any other nation might make piracy become decidedly more dangerous.”

“Any idea as to just who that might be?” the dragon asked as the prince waved his hand again, causing all of the dots, lines and circles to disappear.

“We believe it to be Queen Chrysalis, though we have no solid evidence supporting this,” Blueblood said. “She could likely be trying to get back at our country after suffering that devastating defeat in Canterlot all those years ago. I personally wouldn’t put it past her to do such a thing.”

“So, if she is doing this, and yet we have no real proof, what are we to do?” Spike asked. “Surely we could try reaching out to her with a diplomatic team?”

“We will, and very soon, too. You see, your friends, the Elements of Harmony, were sent here by Celestia to try and settle a treaty with Chrysalis. Whether it is one of peace or at least a cease-fire, I do not know: we never technically went to war with the changelings, even after they attempted to invade. I personally believe that diplomacy will be a waste of time, but seeing as how we need to use every option we can get our hands on, I am supplying your friends with the means to contact Chrysalis.”

“Is that this proposal you spoke of before?” the dragon asked as he glanced at the large grandfather clock. Something about it seemed... off to him, as though it was more than just a clock.

“Yes, though it involves you as well, Spike,” the prince said as he magically summoned a piece of parchment from his desk. Looking down at it, he continued. “You will help the ship’s captain lead a small fleet to the last few locations of where Chrysalis was believed to have been seen. Once you make contact, you are to assist the Elements of Harmony in establishing diplomatic ties with the queen, and if need be, ensure all proceedings go smoothly.”

“Is that a letter from Princess Celestia?” Spike asked.

“Yes, though it was I who added in the parts of you assisting them in their mission,” the prince said, rolling the parchment back up. “So tell me, have you any reservations?”

“Well, I’m not exactly sure I’d want to be near pirates again anytime soon,” the dragon said slowly, thoughtfully stroking his chin. “Tell me, how many ships will be in this little diplomatic convoy?”

“Three ships, all of them new and fresh off the naval docks,” Blueblood said.

“Well, that’s good to hear, but I’m still not sure,” Spike said.

“You will be handsomely paid for this endeavor, should you chose to accept it,” Blueblood added, feeling as though he had him right where he wanted him.

“How much?”

“Approximately fifteen thousand bits in advance, with twenty thousand more to be paid upon arrival back in Port Royal.” It was a large sum, and a rather expensive one to pay for at that, but Blueblood was desperate. He needed Spike’s knowledge of the area to find Chrysalis, but he couldn’t let the dragon know just how desperate he was.

“Wow, that is... quite a sum,” Spike said, glancing back at the grandfather clock. Seriously, why did it give him a sense of unease? “I accept your proposal, though I do have one last question.”

“Ask away, my good dragon,” the stallion said, secretly glad he didn’t have to try and raise the sum of bits he was willing to part with just to convince Spike to go along with this. He had to pay for this little expedition out of pocket himself, and though he had more money than he’d likely ever spend, it still hurt his pride that he’d need to resort to paying for things himself like this.

“When do we leave?”

Well, Prince Blueblood had been expecting that question to arrive, but for some reason, he had not expected the meeting to go as smoothly as it had. Here he’d have thought it’d take hours just to write out the terms and convince the dragon to do this job. So, upon hearing the question, Blueblood remained silent for a few moments, still struggling to catch up to what he had not assumed would be dealt with on such short notice. “Tomorrow, if the weather permits,” he said.

“Works for me, though I must ask another question,” Spike said. “Do my friends know of this expedition?”

“Well, yes, though they do not know it could be tomorrow,” the prince said as he walked away from the table. “If you could be the one to break the news to them, I would be very grateful. I could tell them myself, but I have many other more important things to do, like allocate funds from the local treasury to pay room and board for our troops.”

“Indeed,” Spike said, giving a slight bow. “I will tell them, and we will be at the docks first thing in the morning; after breakfast, of course.” With that, he turned and strode out of the room, gently closing the door behind him.

As soon as the dragon was gone, Blueblood turned and looked back at the grandfather clock. “Geralt is starting to become a bit sloppy in his work,” he thought to himself. The spy he employed had only delivered the news to him this morning as to the whereabouts of the Phantom, and had left mere minutes before Spike had arrived. Had the dragon detected the spy’s scent, or had he just been suspicious of the clock’s slightly off-kilter hour hand? It was the secret lever that opened it from the outside, after all: Blueblood would have to get a few servants to replace it eventually.

Meanwhile...

The ship that sailed on the high seas was the least likely to experience an act of piracy, as the oceans were vast and often hard to navigate in unfavorable weather. That is why the majority of attacks occurred near the coastlines: the conduct of the Phantom was no different. Trike hard, strike fast, and make a clean getaway before any passing ship witnessed what had occurred.

Queen Chrysalis, technically a Grand Admiral in rank but choosing to forgo such a formal title, sat in her cabin quarters, pouring over a few charts she had recently received from her native isles. The rocking of the ship as it lay nestled amongst a labyrinth of sandbars and rocks made her feel at ease, even though the clouds on the horizon promised a chance of rain.

“Excellent: the dry-docks on the south islands are complete,” she muttered, pouring through the absolute stack of papers on her desk. “With those in place, we can finally begin building and repairing ships without having to worry about those blasted barnacles eating away our hull during construction.” Picking up another piece of paper, she scanned it carefully, as every bit of information she received was crucial to running her country. In a volatile landscape like the Isles of the Changelings, one could never be too careful or complacent.

“The births for last month are 20 percent greater than this same time last year,” the queen said, nodding and smiling at the news. “Good, good; that means the “prisoners” are keeping up with their duties.” Nopony outside of the Changeling Kingdom knew just what the changelings did with their prisoners, but the rumor mill sure made them out to be horrific monsters.

“If only they knew,” Chrysalis said, smiling as she poured over the last reports on the success of creating farmland on some of the northern islands. Volcanic soil was incredibly rich, but to farm it as intensively as they did required a lot of work.

A small keening noise came from the bed nearest the far wall, causing Chrysalis to look up. Sighing and magically extinguishing many of her lamps, she set the piles of paper into a large bin and closed it. “I believe that is enough work for tonight,” she said to herself, finally hanging up her captain’s coat and hat. Slowly taking off the boots she wore over her hooves, she gently walked over to her bed and looked down at the small contraption near it.

Changelings were renowned, at least amongst themselves, for their creativity and ability to adapt. It came with where they lived, as only the adaptable and creative could survive and even thrive on the volcanic islands they all called home. As such, they had learned long ago that the easiest solution to a problem was to look at said problem in an entirely different light. So, in a fit of brilliance, Chrysalis had taken the curved top of a treasure chest, smoothed out the inside, and made a small carriage for it after flipping it over. The suspension system of small cables helped keep the contraption stable, even amidst turbulent waters. After all, what it carried within it was more precious to her than anything else in the world.

“Hello, my sweet little grub,” she cooed, picking the small object out of the makeshift crib. Less than a year old, her little companion was the product of a night long ago, on some deserted island, with her and a slave turned friend. It had been magical, wonderful even, and the end result had been an altogether surprise for both parties. She knew the foal’s father knew of her existence, and had paid her visit several times, but had not seen her since the birth. He would want to see his little daughter eventually, and very soon, that day would come. It would be a day tinged with sadness and guilt, but hopefully the overall happiness would overshadow such ill feelings.

“He will love you, my little dragonfly,” she said, gently rocking the small foal wrapped in swaddling clothes. Such a term amongst changelings was one of utmost affection. The small foal looked up at Chrysalis, her bright green eyes, just like her mother’s, glinting in the light. She smiled, her toothless grin bringing a warm feeling to her mother’s heart.

Little Cordulia was an indeed unexpected bundle of pure, unadulterated joy. Chrysalis had never thought she’d enter motherhood this soon, and yet, even with all the cravings, mood swings and general unpleasantness she had visited upon others during the pregnancy, she was utterly in love with her little filly. Hopefully, in time, once Cordulia’s father saw her for the little beauty she was, he too would grow to love her as much as her mother did.

He would love her for everything she was, regardless of what she eventually became. Her cute little snout, her adorable little green mane, the tiny ridges along her back: everything about her made her mother smile. Sure, some might see changelings as horrid creatures, and a filly such as this might draw scorn for her parentage, but Chrysalis didn’t care. So what if Cordulia’s wings were a bit more rigid and bat-looking than a normal changeling’s? They still carried with them the swiftness and insectoid nature of her kind, and any changeling that said or thought so otherwise would be on the receiving end of a very angry queen.

The same would go to any pony who threatened her, regardless of who they were or their intentions. Chrysalis had learned much from her defeat in Canterlot, and was unwilling to risk as much to achieve success.

Nothing was worth the life of her daughter, even if Chrysalis herself were in danger. Banishing such dark thoughts from her mind, she cradled the yawning foal next to her and gently drifted off to sleep, the gentle rocking of the waves a comforting embrace for the pair.

Author's Note

Dun dun DUUUUUNNNNN! What madness is this? A new update? Bring out the rum!