The flat grey sea stretched out eastward as far as the eye could see. Dark grey clouds covered the sky, creating a dreary disposition. Nothing marked the horizon for miles; the only sign of life among the expanse of water was the tiny, two-pony dinghy that floated almost aimlessly through the frigid sea. The two fishers were slumped over in their boat, downtrodden at the lack of fish to be caught.
The two mares lived in the tiny village of Mistbay; a land once feared for its abundant fog. The older mare, Glimmer, looked almost identical to her sister, Glitter, save for a darker shade of pink in her mane. Their coats, both the same shade of sky-blue, were covered in bright yellow rain slickers. Fishing rods rest on the bottom of the dinghy, abandoned after hours of waiting without so much as a single nibble.
Glimmer sighed sorrowfully, “That’s three days in a row…” she pouted, “Still no fish.”
Glitter responded with a gentle pat on the shoulder, consoling her older sister, “It’s not all bad, sis.” She responded, with slightly more enthusiasm, “It’s just the weather is all. Once the clouds pull back, they’ll be biting again!” she reassured, though she herself didn’t quite believe the remark.
Still, Glimmer huffed, “Sure… I just hope we can make ends meet until then.”
Glitter, who was usually very comforting for her overworked sister, didn’t respond. Something had caught her eye in the water; a faint shimmer of silver under the tranquil waves. Prodding at her sister with a hoof, she exclaimed,
“Did you see that? I think it’s a fish! Tuna, maybe?” she asked, hoping to pique her sister’s interests, and resume fishing.
Glimmer sprung across the dinghy, leaning over the edge to peer at the shimmering. Sure enough, there was something under the water; something big.
“Get the nets! I think there’s a whole school down there!” Glimmer commanded, her confidence restored.
Obediently, Glitter procured a large net from the storage chest at the prow of their dinghy, and threw it overboard with practiced grace. It landed perfectly, and began to sink into the gray waters. She rubbed her hooves in anticipation,
“Gee, sis, what our luck, huh?”
“Quiet,” Glimmer shushed, “you might scare ‘em!”
The two mares leaned over the edge of the dinghy together, their faces mere inches from the water. They watched the net slowly float downwards, until it impacted the shimmering. The net wrapped around the object and snagged onto something. No matter how hard the two mares pulled, the net wouldn’t budge. Finally, they let it rest, fearing it might break if they pulled too hard.
“Geez, what did you do?” Glimmer bellowed, her rage increasing.
Glitter shrugged sheepishly, “Nothing! I threw it just like you taught me. I dunno what we could’ve snagged on…”
Glimmer was about to snap back at her sister, scolding her for her inexperience, but was interrupted. A slow, churning noise from aside the boat began to fill the air. The water bubbled, as if pockets of air were being released underneath the waves. Their dinghy began to rock as water displacement took effect; something was rising out of the water.
Before either pony had time to brace themselves, an object exploded out of the water, shooting skyward. Water fell back to earth in a shower of freezing droplets. A second object, identical to the first, shot out of the water a split second later, reaching high into the sky. Being maritime ponies, they were instantly identified; masts.
Before any theories could be conjured up, the mast’s owner surfaced. It hit the surface of the sea with such force that it nearly flew straight out of the water, and landed back down with a massive splash, creating towering waves in every direction. The dinghy was no match for the torrential water, and was capsized as if it were nothing but a piece of driftwood.
The mares scrambled to get out of the cold ocean, and grasped onto their upside-downed boat. That’s when they got a good look at the newcomer. It was an old ship, but massive nonetheless. Triple decks towered above them and, judging by the cannon ports, it housed more than a hundred cannons. Tattered sails hung down from the masts. From stem to stern, it must have measured two-hundred feet or more. But what shocked the mares most was the crew.
They stared down at the mares with soulless eyes. The skeletal and rotting remains of ponies was all that was left of them. Some had bits of flesh and sinew clinging to the otherwise white bone, and some were in the beginning stages of decomposition, but most were purely skeletal. They brandished cutlasses, scimitars, khopeshes, and axes, each glowing with a sickly purple light. Their empty eye sockets shone with a bright red glow.
The sisters were petrified at the sight. A literal ghost ship. Glimmer attempted to swim away; they were only a mile offshore, and it wouldn’t take her long. But Glitter couldn’t move. The boat had transfixed her, and began to draw her in. Her eyes had begun to glaze over as she stared at the magnificent rotting ship.
There was no time for words. The second Glimmer looked back to find her sister, it was too late. A figure had appeared on the deck, covered in dull red cloaks and coats. It reached down, and shot a harpoon-like weapon at the dusky water, striking Glitter in the torso. With uncanny, almost supernatural strength, the figure yanked the mare aboard deck. She flew through the air, uninjured, but not fully conscious, and landed roughly on the deck, out of sight of her sister.
Glimmer swam faster towards Mistbay. It wasn’t until she was a few hundred yards from shore that she realized the ship had completely disappeared.
*****
“So can anyone tell me what caused the turning point in the War of Three Seas?”
Not a single hoof rose in the crowded lecture hall. The professor, annoyed with the constant lack of attention, sighed softly, though inaudibly. Rolling his eyes, he continued,
“The ship HMS Concord was commissioned by Princess Celestia to be positioned outside of Horseshoe Bay. Now, despite being outnumbered three to one by zebra carracks, the Concord, along with the little remnants of the Equestrian navy, fought back. Using a secret weapon, still not entirely known to this day, the Concord broke the carrack line and destroyed their blockade.”
The professor looked back over his students, most of whom were disinterested or asleep.
“This, of course, led to-“
The clanging bell was harsh, but welcome against his ears. As a student, he relished the dismissal bell. His feelings towards it hadn’t diminished as a teacher. He ignored the students as they quickly shuffled out of the lecture hall onto the campus grounds. Slinking away to the corner of the hall, the professor sunk into his desk.
His workspace was cluttered, consisting of reports, assignments, and textbooks. But one item in particular drew his attention more than anything else. A dull, worn old parchment, faded beyond belief rest in the middle of his desk. It was a map, seemingly innocent enough, showing the south-east coast of Equestria, from Horseshoe Bay to the southern tip of the Hayseed Swamps.
Charts and coordinates had been scrawled across the ancient map. The seemingly disorganized lines and markings created a map of their own, almost indecipherable to those without keen knowledge in the nautical field. Fortunately, the professor knew enough to figure everything out. Two months was all it took to decipher the secrets of the map, with everything leading to one single point.
The fabled lost wreck of the HMS Concord.
The professor was so drawn into his map that he didn’t hear the lecture hall’s door creak open. From the doorway, his guest watched him silently. Finally, after nearly five minutes of watching, the figure spoke up,
“Still looking at that map, Jack?”
The professor’s heart leapt into his throat, and he sprung up from his desk, knocking over a small stack of books. Catching his breath, he looked up at his guest,
“Daring Do…” he started, “I see you’re still sneaking up on ponies.”
Daring Do stood at the top of the small staircase leading to the lecture hall’s exit. Her gold-orange coat was dulled by the dim lights, and her grayscale mane appeared more gray than usual. Her freshly ironed shirt ruffled slightly as she descended the staircase,
“Well, you know me. How’s the new job, professor?” she asked sarcastically. In all her time knowing Jack, she had never thought of him as a professor; especially in a field as obscure as ancient Equestrian seafaring. Jack was an archaeologist, not a sailor.
“I hate it,” he responded, “I don’t see why you constantly insist this is the best university in Equestria… The students here don’t even care!” Jack exclaimed, waving a blue hoof in the air to emphasize his point.
“Maybe it’s because you’re teaching a worthless subject? I bet most of your students are here for an easy credit.” Daring answered, beginning to investigate the knick knacks and prizes that lined one wall of the lecture hall. She recognized most of them, considering she had acquired them herself.
“Well, they’re gonna be in for some sore luck. I gave my replacement explicit orders to make their final as difficult as possible!” Jack explained, almost sinisterly, as he began to throw things into his saddlebags.
Daring was caught off-guard for a moment, “Replacement?” she asked, raising an eyebrow at her friend.
Jack nodded, “Yeah.” He answered simply and nonchalantly, “I think I’m ready for a vacation.”
Daring Do rolled her eyes. She’d heard his stories before; all his ramblings about the Concord and its lost wreck.
“If you want the university to fund you, you’re going to need a lot more than a dusty map. I didn’t get you that map to fuel your crazy ideas.”
Jack scoffed, throwing his saddlebags across his back, “I don’t need their funding; I’ve got an idea! It might just be the best I’ve ever had!” Jack left the building, out into the sunny streets of Canterlot.
Daring Do brought a hoof to her face, “Dear Celestia…”
*****
Canterlot University, the largest school in Equestria, housed over a hundred-thousand students. Every subject imaginable took part in the educational experience of the university. Students from all over the world came to Canterlot University to establish the beginning of their careers. It was the thing of dreams for many students.
Except for one.
Sunny Borealis, former navigator and crewmember of the airship Onyx Wind, just wasn’t cut out for college. Ever since her ‘retirement’ from flying, she had tried to find something to occupy her time. Thinking an education was the way to go, she had applied to an aeronautics class and an Equestrian military history class. Neither of which turned out to be interesting at all.
As she walked slowly across the campus, admiring the divine architecture, she looked through the other students. They ranged from nervous ponies, swamped with papers and textbooks, to indifferent stallions, who were either too tired or too fed up to care about school anymore. There were drama queens, jocks; everything she never wanted to deal with.
The unicorn had never been to a school before; she was raised and taught the fundamentals of life on the Onyx Wind. Dealing with other ponies wasn’t her strong point, and as such, friends were scarce. Still, it didn’t bother Sunny. She always had one friend she could count on.
After having saved her life (on more than one occasion) Sunny had taken to sticking very close to Daring Do. Ever since she met her, almost a year ago, she had been involved in her life and her adventures, despite the protest of Jack. In a way, she was part mother and part sister. But above all else, she was a friend, and that’s how Sunny kept it.
From across the campus, Sunny spotted Jack, busily trotting across the courtyard. Though she had a class to be in ten minutes ago, she galloped over to her longtime friend, a grin spreading across her face.
“Jack!” she called out, flailing her hoof in the air to get his attention. The professor’s attention, however, was focused elsewhere, probably worlds away. He unknowingly ignored the filly and continued on his way, making a beeline for his tiny apartment on the edge of the school’s grounds.
Rolling her eyes, the unicorn rushed over, catching up to her pal and trotting alongside him. His longer legs made for a faster pace than Sunny, forcing her to go into a light canter.
“Hey, Jack. What’s up?” she asked, hiding the fact that she was tiring at her pace.
“Hmm?” the stallion sounded, shaking his head slightly almost as if he were snapping out of sleep, “Oh, Sunny?”
“That’s me!” she piped, “You alright? You look pretty worn out.”
Jack nodded his head, and with a quick look over his shoulder, he asked, “Can you keep a secret from someone?”
Sunny raised an eyebrow, “Daring?”
Again, Jack nodded, with a hint of secrecy in his eyes, “Promise not to tell?”
“Promise.” She answered slyly, with no concrete intent to keep her word.
“Good. I’m going after the wreck! Probably tonight.” Jack answered calmly, as if it were nothing more than a stroll in the park, or walking around the corner.
Sunny stopped in her tracks, befuddled. “You sure you’re alright? That’s a big step, Jack…” she remarked worriedly. Her thoughts flashed back to Jack’s other ‘adventures’. The usually timid pony never had the greatest luck dealing with situations that didn’t involve a pen and paper. When it came to more physical work, like fighting bandits and clambering over traps, Jack usually failed.
“It’ll be fine!” Jack said, with only the slightest underlying tone of doubt. He finished his sentence as he got to his apartment, and fiddled with the door handle. Sunny knew the place all too well; she had practically grown up between Jack’s and Daring’s apartments, and had memorized them inside and out.
Jack’s door swung open, revealing the tiny two-room living quarters. One wall was completely covered in a towering bookcase, even blocking the room’s one window. It was overflowing with books, scrolls, parchments, and everything in between. The books that wouldn’t fit were stacked neatly in piles off to the sides of the room, some more worn than others. A majority of the books were stacked around the low lying cot nestled in the furthest corner of the room.
Jack rushed inside, flinging his saddlebags onto his cot. As they impacted the surface, their contents were thrown about haphazardly, landing wherever they pleased. Books, quills, and a map overflowed from the bags, catching Sunny’s eye. Quietly entering the room, she investigated the parchment. Her eyes rolled over its surface, drinking in every detail.
“Cripes, Jack, where’d you get this map?” Sunny gawked, amazed at the level of detail. Being a navigator, her levels of cartography were off the chart, as it were.
Jack snatched the map away swiftly, but gingerly, “Daring Do got it for me, from some burial tomb, I don’t know where.”
“And that’s the…?”
“Map to the Concord, yes. I did some of the tracing myself. I think I’ve got it pinned down close enough.” He stated, admiring his work with a cheap grin.
Something stirred inside Sunny. A feeling she hadn’t felt in a while; adventure. As she stared at the map over Jack’s shoulder, she couldn’t help but to imagine herself on those waters, searching tirelessly for a lost shipwreck, with treasure and glory abound. She was so lost in her thoughts that she hadn’t realized Jack had moved away, and had begun throwing essentials into his bag.
“You know…” Sunny started demurely, “Maps can be tricky.”
Jack’s pace of packing slowed down, but only to indicate a mild interest in what Sunny was saying.
“And… you might need something like, I dunno… a-“
“Navigator?” Jack finished for Sunny, looking at her from over his shoulder.
“Please?” Sunny pleaded, “I can’t take it here anymore. I wanna go back to the way things used to be, on the airship. You know?”
Slowly, Jack nodded, “Fine. Just don’t let Daring know!”
*****
Daring Do took to the skies that evening as the sun was beginning to set. After Jack raced out on her, she had spent the remainder of her day flying between professors and curators, relishing what time she had to spend in Canterlot between adventures.
It was a taxing process though, and left her exhausted at the end of the day. Her mind always related the situations to her own adventures, whether it was running away from native warriors, or dodging collapsing walls and hidden trapdoors. Except that now she dodged over-appreciative patrons, and running from the occasional overly attached fan. Being a treasure hunter attracted a lot of attention.
But at the end of the day, it was all said and done. She could retire to her apartment, conveniently located just above Jack’s. There, hidden away from prying eyes, she could spend her time with her own interests; planning new adventures, and reliving the experiences of her old ones.
In a way, it was more rejuvenating than sleep. Just calling the memories of her adventures back produced long forgotten adrenaline within the mare, refueling her and leaving her longing for another exciting escapade.
By the time she got to her apartment the sun was nearly down. Deciding it wasn’t too late, Daring flew down to the first floor apartment, hoping Jack was open for more discussion. It wasn’t that she was against the idea of searching for the lost ship; she just preferred a bit more planning and less running off on a whim.
She knocked on his door, but no sounds could be heard from within. There were no lights from the other side of the windows. Groaning, Daring Do opened the door and stepped inside.
It was cleaned spotless, with everything stacked up neatly and professionally; the opposite of Daring’s apartment. Having known Jack for a long time, Daring knew exactly what this meant, and her blood began to boil slightly.
“Of all the stupid decisions…” she grumbled to herself, kicking the side of Jack’s cot.
She’d find him, and give him what for. First, she had to know where exactly he’d set off to. She flew outside and to the second story, entering her apartment through the ever-open window. Her eyes immediately landed upon the makeshift bed, built solely from a pile of blankets in the corner. It was empty.
“Of course…” she sighed. There was nothing she could do; if both Jack and Sunny were gone, she was practically forced to take matters into her own hooves.
“First things first.” She said to herself, moving to her workspace. In the middle, practically taking up any available space to work was the sole item she wouldn’t leave without. Her identity as a treasure hunter; her iconic pith helmet.
“Time for an adventure…” she muttered, taking to the skies once more, setting her courses south-east, towards the location of the fabled wreck of the HMS Concord.
Author's Note
Hey there, it's I, ThePartyCannon, less-than-amateur writer of things that are bad.
Basically, I just want some critique involving the spewing of words, possibly vile, in my direction regarding the quality of my work and how it could be improved. This is a sequel of a story that I consider horribly written, with so many plot holes that I make Christopher Nolan look good. But here's to hoping I don't make the same mistakes on this one, though I myself don't consider that a possibility. If you like bad writing and horse puns, I have the original story, which would probably make a few things (really, only characters) clearer in this story.
So yeah, boats.
That is all. Stay classy San Diego.
By midday, Mistbay was at the peak of activity, with ponies meandering the docks, or investigating the marketplace. Though the town boasted less than two-hundred ponies, it could still produce a crowd. Albeit, a dreary, depressed looking crowd, but a crowd nonetheless. Their dismal nature was reflected in the weather; cold, wet, and covered in dark grey clouds.
It had been a week since the last pony was taken by the ghost ship, and they knew it would return. It had done so every seven days for the past month. Originally, it started with one or two ponies off the coast; always taken out of the sea. But as of late, the ship had become more daring, and even sailed within view of the port town. Its morbid crew would walk the streets at night, plucking ponies from their bedrooms and homes.
Some residents had moved out, abandoned everything they owned and left the town. Whereas other ponies, either brave or stupid, stayed in town, fortifying their homes with wooden planks and muskets. They would wait, and see if their efforts were for vain by nightfall.
*****
Baltimare’s streets were lit brightly as dusk fell over the sky. After an entire day of riding in a cramped caravan, Sunny and Jack disembarked onto the streets to find a place to stay. The cobblestone paths were slick with rain, reflecting the light emanating from nearby houses and lampposts. The duo of ponies splashed through puddles as they made their way towards an inn on the edge of town.
“So you’ll go after the boat tomorrow?” Sunny asked, yawning as her sentence tapered off.
“It’s a ship.” Jack corrected sleepily, “And yes, after a good night’s rest.”
Jack forged ahead of Sunny, arriving at a ramshackle tavern. Pushing their way inside, the duo found themselves confronted with a warm interior, bustling with happy ponies. A hearty fire was cracking in the brick fireplace, and a stout barkeep was laughing as he filled another pint. Jack smiled as he approached the rotund stallion.
“Eh?” the stallion sounded, “Hello there! Need help? A drink?” he asked, raising a freshly poured pint, which smelled incredibly strongly of sweet ale.
“Not tonight I’m afraid. I’m looking for a room for two. Just for tonight.” Jack answered.
The barkeep smiled, and tossed Jack a little golden key from under the bar, “The room’s upstairs, first door on the right.”
With a thank-you nod, Jack turned around and made his way to the stairs. He politely pushed through the drunken, laughing crowd that had formed between him and the stairs, while the lithe Sunny used her agility to slink around the ponies. Right as Jack reached the stairs, a voice behind him caught his attention.
He turned his head to look for the source, and found it, huddled in a corner, surrounding by a few stallions. She was drunk, that much was evident, but appeared coherent enough to tell a few stallions a tale of a ship. Grinning, Jack said to Sunny,
“You go upstairs and wait; I’ll be a minute.”
Not bothering to check if Sunny had complied with his orders or not, Jack made his way to the corner of the room, sitting himself at the round table. The drunken mare looked at him, and grinned wickedly.
“You there, blue one!” she slurred, “Ever hear of ghosht shipsh?”
Jack shook his head, “Never!” he lied, “Why? You have a story?”
A collective groan sounded between the stallions at the table.
“Don’t believe her, man. She’s been here for days telling that story; it’s all the booze.” One of the stallions explained, before getting up from the table and leaving, taking his group with him. Jack and the mare were all alone as she retold her story.
“It were me and my sister that day, fishing.” She started, gulping down the last of her drink as she finished. “Fishes weren’t biting, sho we were finkin’ about headin’ back!”
Jack listened contentedly. He loved a good story and, fake or not, it fit in with his whole adventure.
“When, out of the briny blue, it appeared! Roshe outta the water like a breachin’ whale!” she flung her hooves out to either side, imitating a ship rising out of the water, while also inadvertently knocking over a few empty tankards.
“Out of the water?” Jack asked, clarifying his mental image of the ship.
“’Tis true!” she shouted, slamming both her hooves on the table for emphasis.
“And how big was she?”
The mare scratched her chin as she lifted a tankard, and peered to its bottom, wondering just where that delicious ale went. Finally, she noticed Jack had asked a question, and quickly made an impromptu answer, “Ah, she was three decks she was! And… long too! Longer’n I’ve sheen!”
Jack was intrigued, “Do you see too many ships were you’re from?”
“Oh yup. Mist… Bay! Mistbay. We’ve got ships!” she answered, beginning to sway back and forth.
Jack mentally drew up the map in his head. Mistbay wasn’t too far from where the Concord supposedly sank; maybe it was a good place to start his journey. Taking a mental note, he rose from his seat, wished the drunkard a fair day, and rushed upstairs to his rented room.
Inside, Sunny had made herself at home, discarding the bed of its blankets, and constructing a ‘nest’ in the corner of the room. As Jack burst into the room, Sunny looked up with tired eyes.
“Sunny!” Jack exclaimed, sliding over to the mare, “Get up! We’ve gotta go.”
Sunny groaned and rolled her eyes, “Right now, Jack? Come on, you spent a dozen bits on this place! Let’s rest for at least a few hours!” she pleaded, pulling the coarse blankets over her head.
Jack promptly threw the blankets off the unicorn, “No can do, Sunny. I’ve got a lead, and we gotta leave now!” he happily called.
With a sigh of much malcontent, Sunny rose from her nest, and trotted lazily to the door.
“I’m gonna kill you for this one day…” she grumbled.
“I’ll hold you to it.” Answered Jack, closing the door behind them. The two went back outside, and began the southward trek towards Mistbay.
*****
Daring Do had been flying all throughout the night, and into the next day to try and catch up with her friends. Unfortunately, a caravan was much faster than a pegasus, meaning she had lost a massive amount to ground that she had to recover. Her second downfall was her lack of sleep. Her sense of direction was off, throwing her much further south than she would have liked.
As night covered the land for the second time, Daring Do’s wings were crying out for rest. They burned and stung all over from over-exertion, and it had taken a toll on Daring. Feeling faint, she picked a spot on the horizon; a tiny glow by the sea. It was difficult to identify through the thick cloud cover, but it would have to do; there was nowhere else she could go. She banked around and prepared to land in the town.
After what was perhaps the clumsiest landing the mare had ever committed, Daring flung herself onto the muddy ground of the town center. Her wings immediately numbed, and she was hit by a wall of heat as her body began to settle down. Taking care not to hurt herself further, Daring got up and looked around the town, wiping mud off her olive shirt.
It was empty, save for a few lighted lanterns here and there. Doors and windows were covered, and there was hardly a sign of life anywhere to be found. The air was eerily still, and dead silent. Not even the soft lapping of waves on the nearby beach could be heard.
Daring Do watched as a fog rolled in from the sea, slowly blanketing the hushed community. It drifted aimlessly and lazily, swarming around buildings and obstructions as it moved through the town. Within seconds, the town was swamped in the thick cloud, reducing vision to only a few mere feet. Stumbling through the fog, the pegasus attempted to find a place to hide.
It wasn’t easy, but she soon found a place; a fair sized building with a signpost out front, boasting an iron stein with a frothy liquid overflowing from its top.
“A pub…” Daring sighed, knocking on the door.
The oaken door was sealed tight, but as she placed her ear against the door, she could hear the faintest shuffling of hooves. Expecting the door to open, welcoming her into the warm embrace of a friendly pub, she backed away, allowing the owner enough room to look her over. Instead, as the door flung itself open, the owner used the available space to point every possible weapon he owned at the mare.
Knives, forks, fishing spears, harpoons, and even a cutlass all shoved their way out of the door, stopping within inches of the mare. Directly in front of her face, shaking slightly out of fear was the long barrel of a freshly loaded musket. The wielder, an older pony, graying with age and wearing spectacles, squinted at the mare. His lackeys, four ponies who flanked him on either side, did the same, mirroring their elder.
“Say…” the head pony proclaimed, lowering his musket slightly, but still keeping it centered on Daring Do’s chest, “You ain’t a pirate!”
Daring slowly nodded, “You’re right.” She replied, steadily growing more uneasy as the weapons lingered in front of her.
The old pony let out a hoot, and chuckled wildly as he withdrew his gun and motioned inside, “Come in! Come in! So long as you ain’t a pirate, your fair business here!”
Without thinking twice about it, the old pony hobbled away, musket slung across his back. He took his place behind the long bar, stretching the length of the building. Daring Do followed, sliding past the wall of ponies and into the sanctity of the pub.
It was made entirely of wood, most of it faded or rotting. Half a dozen tables were strewn across the room, knocked over and pushed against the windows and doors. Across the floor, a small group of ponies had gathered, many were mares and fillies. Only four were stallions. A simple staircase rose from the corner of the room, ascending into what Daring could only imagine to be a living quarters. She gazed across the bar at the elderly stallion on the other side, who had just set out a clean glass.
“What can I get ya fer?” he asked kindly, with a southern drawl.
Slowly, Daring replied, “What’s going on here? Where is everypony?”
“Why, it’s nighttime a’course!” he answered, seeming not to acknowledge the eerie fog, or how the town seemed completely abandoned.
“No, I don’t mean it like that. I meant-“
“He won’t do you any good.” Interrupted a mare’s voice from across the room. Daring turned to look at her, and found herself face to face with a dirty, dusty unicorn. Her tan coat had almost turned brown from the amount of dirt, and her clothes were tattered and torn in many places. But despite it all, her azure eyes shone bright and happy.
“Why’s that?” Daring asked.
“Ever since he lost his first daughter to pirates, and the second to drink, he’s not been quite right in the head.” The mare explained in a hushed tone. Her eyes flicked momentarily to the door, which was in the process of being reinforced with a decrepit table.
“Do you mind explaining what’s going on? What’s with the barricades?” Daring asked, motioning her head towards the windows and door, all of which had stacks of miscellaneous items to block them.
“Some people call it a curse. Others say it’s nothing more than regular pirates. But I don’t believe it...” She paused for a moment, “They’re the undead.” She finished, her voice seeming distant and lost.
Daring’s stomach turned over. It was a tall order to believe at first thought, “The undead?” she asked, with a tone of more disbelief than she would have liked.
The mare nodded, “Oh yes. Don’t believe me? Well, you just wait an hour or so, you’ll see!”
Daring walked to one of the windows, and peered through a small crack in the defenses. Outside, however, nothing could be seen beyond the wall of thick fog. The mist swirled outside, almost as if something was moving in it, but nothing could be seen.
“When I came in, the barkeep was worried I was a pirate. Any connection?” Daring asked, breaking down the situation in her head. A deep fog, terrified ponies, barricaded doors? It seemed to add up to the undead, but they didn’t exist! Right?
“Well…” the mare started, “Yes, in a way. You see, the undead are pirates.”
Daring Do rolled her eyes and shook her head, “Well, Miss…?”
“Shores. Swampy Shores. I’m the mayor here.” The mare answered, standing a bit taller than before.
“Miss Shores, I just flew for a day straight into a town I know nothing about. Now, I don’t know what you have on your hooves right now, but I’d be willing to help you out, if it means you can help me.”
Swampy Shores nodded, “There’s plenty of work to go around, miss. What can I help you with?”
“Have you seen two ponies come into town? A stallion and a little mare unicorn. The stallion has a blue coat and black mane, with a surveyor’s tool cutie mark, and the mare is short, with a white coat and a gray mane. She’s got a…” Daring struggled for a moment, pushing past the wall of exhaustion to recall an image of Sunny, “…a ship’s wheel, you know, for steering? That’s her cutie mark. Have you seen them?”
The mayor scratched her chin, “Can’t say I have. It’s a small town, so I would’ve seen ‘em come in.”
Daring’s ears flopped down in disappointment. Seeing this, the mayor perked up, “But if they were heading this way, they would’ve stopped in Baltimare for the night.”
“That being true, they’d be in town tomorrow? Assuming they were heading this way.” Daring asked.
Swampy Shores nodded, “Yes ma’am. Assuming we’re all still in one piece, tomorrow morning, I’ll help you look for your kin.”
Daring nodded, “Thanks Mayor. Now, about that work?”
*****
Jack and Sunny’s caravan soared through the night at incredible speed. The trees and swampland on either side of the road rushed past them in a blur. With the wind whipping at their manes, Jack and Sunny stayed awake the entire trip, watching the road ahead keenly. It wasn’t until the fog showed up that they began to worry.
The stallions pulling the caravan seemed worried too. They had slowed down as they approached the fog, until they came to a complete stop, less than twenty yards in. They snorted, and grumbled,
“This is as far as we go. The town isn’t far.”
Jack, though his initial thought was to argue, politely left the wagon, and deposited his bits into a sack in the front.
“Thank you, gents! Come now, Sunny.” He called behind him, summoning the little mare. The two set off, side by side, into the fog.
Despite knowing nothing of the area, Jack felt confident! He had never seen Mistbay in person, but heard about it on several occasions. A quiet, small town. No news ever came out of it.
“So you think this town can help?” Sunny asked, plodding along through the slightly muddy road.
Jack shrugged, “It’s not a bad place to look. I’m sure the locals here know the waters better than anyone!”
Sunny snorted, “You think they’re gonna help out finding a shipwreck that might not even exist? Besides, I’m the only navigator you need!”
Jack grumbled something under his breath. The fog was beginning to mess with the ponies, amplifying far off noises, and dampening closer ones. It tricked their sight, revealing certain objects much sooner than others. It was a thick, purely white fog, the likes of which neither pony had encountered before. A chill ran up Sunny’s spine.
“You hear that?” the unicorn asked, slowing her pace.
Jack cocked his head, raising one ear higher than the other, “I don’t hear anything.”
A second chill.
“There it is again!” Sunny nearly shouted, bounding away from the side of the road. The noise was coming from inside the swamps.
“Relax! It’s probably just some night critters out making noise.”
But the third noise was loud and clear, sending a massive chill straight to the bones of the ponies. It was a low, unearthly groan; guttural and wet. It stretched on for nearly five seconds before ending in a rough snarl. Jack’s teeth clenched shut, and Sunny began shivering.
“W-where’d it come from?” Sunny asked, stammering uncontrollably.
Jack couldn’t answer. It sounded like it came from all around them. The fog manipulated the groans and placed them everywhere at once. Jack sped up to a canter, followed extremely closely by Sunny.
Another groan, longer and closer than the first, assaulted their ears. Now the fog had begun to swirl, growing momentarily darker as shapes moved past the wall of mist. Sunny let out a short screech as one of the shapes began to materialize, before being obscured by the fog once more.
As they continued, the groans increased in frequency and volume. More and more were added to the mix, until the air was filled with wet, snarling growls, never ceasing. Jack and Sunny had sprung into a full gallop down the road, hoping for some salvation at the end. What they found instead, was a nightmare.
The first one they saw was nestled in the road, curled up in a ball like a lost pup. Blood covered its coat in sticky black patches, and it sported several open wounds across its back. Clean white bone shone through some of the larger wounds, highlighted by the bright red of muscle and tendons. It turned its head towards the ponies, cracking its neck in a sickly ensemble of bones as it went. Its face was horrifying.
It had decayed greatly. What little wisps of mane it had left were dangling in its face. Boils and cysts covered its thin, gaunt face. Hollow eyes sockets glowed a bright red, shining deep and luminescent in the mist. Large chunks of flesh and skin were missing where its cheeks should have been, allowing for a gratuitous view of its teeth, many of which were rotting and falling out.
Sunny screamed loud and long, filling the groaning air with her shrieks. The two remained at a gallop, vaulting over the ghastly monster in the road, and continuing onwards. As they jumped, the monster threw its hooves out, attempting to wrap them around the duo’s legs. After the first, the sightings became more frequent.
They shambled through the fog, standing in the road and off to the side. As the ponies passed, they threw themselves at the living, trying to tackle them to the ground, or clutch them in their decayed hooves. At first they were easy to dodge, with only one or two blocking the road at a time. But as they went on, their numbers grew more and more. Soon there were four in the road. Then eight. Then a dozen. They were everywhere, limping out of the swamps with their horrible moaning and snarling.
There was nowhere to go but forward; backtracking would mean having to run through them all again. Tears streamed down Sunny’s face in a cascade of agony, and Jack felt like he was soon to follow. It was chaos. At one point, Jack had run too close to one of the monsters, and allowed it a grasp onto his hooves. Its boney hooves scratched at Jack’s hide, leaving a trail of blood and slime across his coat. He fell to the ground, splattering in the mud. The monsters moved in, attempting to surround Jack, but he managed to get onto his hooves at the last second.
Finally, a light shone up ahead. A warm, yellow light of a fire, instead of the blood red light shining from the undead’s eye sockets. Sunny and Jack rushed straight to it.
It was a mistake.
The light shone from the second story of a building. Underneath the window, scratching at the wooden walls with grisly determination, nearly a dozen monsters, all decaying and rotten, stood. Their attention slowly shifted to the two tired ponies, who stood gasping for breath mere feet away.
They turned as a group towards the duo, and their shambling hooves scraped along the grass in a soft squelching sound. Jack and Sunny attempted to turn around and outrun them like they previously had, only to find another decaying wall of unfortunate ponies. They had them trapped between two groups. Jack’s heart raced.
Their fates were sealed as the wall of death quickly enveloped them, cutting off any possible route of escape. Tears formed as he thought of how awfully he had failed, and how blindly he had rushed to his own death, taking Sunny with him. He wasted them both. As the undead made their final approach, closing in from every angle with shrieking moans, a single thought ran through Jack’s mind;
Daring Do, I’m sorry…
