Octavia had to wake up.
She knew she did. She could feel something happening. She felt wet. Finally, she forced herself to open her eyes, and was surprised when she was fifteen feet below the surface of the ocean. She could feel the salt stinging her eyes.
She started to panic, flailing in the water, not knowing what direction was up. Then, she forced herself to calm down. She stopped moving, and could feel herself sinking. She used this to orient herself, and started to desperately swim up. That was all that mattered at the moment.
Her lungs were burning. She needed air, fast, and kept desperately swimming up. Finally, as she pushed herself through the water, she couldn’t hold it any more. Instinctively, she gasped for air, and got nothing but water. Still, she forced herself to swim up. She could see the moon past the water now. The water weighed her down, but still she continued. She forced herself to swim up, even when she started to black out.
She felt her hoof touch dry air when suddenly a searing pain went down her side. She looked past a growing dark cloud in the water and saw a gash caused by something that was slithering through the water around her. Salt stung the wound. She managed to poke her head above water and cough water out of her lungs right before something hit her and she finally blacked out.
~~~
Octavia woke up, just barely, to blurry vision and the feeling of rocking. She looked to see who was rocking her, but nopony was. She registered midnight blue sails before passing out again.
~~~
When she woke up next, it was because of seasickness. She immediately vomited on the deck of a large ship. Then, she heard a voice. It was a tough, old sounding male voice, with a Scottish accent.
“Oh, look what you’ve done to me freshly cleaned deck.” A mop appeared in Octavia’s vision, and cleaned up her mess. She could see green hooves just beyond it, the color so worn it could have been grey just as easily as green. She layed there, tired. Her mind was scrambled. She tensed up, and violently vomited again. Some of it got into her wound, making it burn and sting. She teared up, right as something gently cleaned her mess again, and then her wound.
“You’re a right messy mare, for a yuppie. Let me patch you up.” She could feel magic tugging the wound shut. “You must’ve been bitten by a sword viper.” Sword viper? What was that? Where even was she? She had been with Graphite, and then… Then she had woken up in the ocean.
“Wh- Where am I?” She asked the hooves.
“You’re aboard the Dusk Rider.”
“Graphite…” she murmured, and looked up at the old stallion, looking him in the eyes for the first time. He appeared gruff, but there was a softness in his eyes, like he was sympathetic for her.
“And who would that be? I don’t envy any man who was named after a rock.” With that, he lifted her to her hooves, without using his magic. She could barely stand, because of the shock of everything. She was dizzy. He helped her stay on her hooves.
“Can’t put ya below deck with the crew. Yuppie mare like you wouldn’t be able to stand that lot, and somethin’ tells me they would be all over you anyways. No, I’ll have to take you to Captain Maelstrom, assuming he’s awake and not drunk off his flank.” She nodded, more out of the lack of energy to make a decision than anything else. He helped her walk to what could only have been the captain’s lodge, and he complained and was sarcastic the whole time. “Quite the sea legs you have on you, yuppie.”
He lost his grip on her for a second, and she collapsed, coughing.
“Get back up, girl, I can’t lift ya.” He said, as he helped her back up. She once again summoned the energy required to get up, and started to walk again. Finally, they got inside, and the stallion just ran off, causing her to fall into a sitting position.
“Well, what have we here?” she heard a voice ask. He sounded vaguely Canterlotian, but the accent was rougher, less pronounced. “I had thought you were dead.”
“I need to get home…” was her only reply.
“Oh? Well, you’re a long way from it, Manehattanite.” She couldn’t believe it. She had been born in Manehattan. Had he really guessed that quickly based on her accent?
“How far?...” She asked, still momentarily unable to let out long answers.
“About fifty miles from the nearest port. Maybe three days if this weather keeps up.” Octavia moaned. Three days? She wanted to be home now, not in three days! “What is your name, miss?” the pony asked, as he stood up from his desk.
“Octavia.” She replied.
“Hmm…” he circled her, looking her over while she sat there. He lifted one of her hooves, and then put it back down.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“You’re a noblemare, aren’t you? Your eyes, their shade of purple, are an interesting, rare color, that matches the color of your cutie mark. You have a talent in music. Born in Manehattan, I would guess, but something tells me you’ve been to Canterlot more than once or twice. You have an air of responsibility about you, further enforcing that you must be a noblemare. I can see it in your eyes. Almost like the eyes of a captain with a ship. Tell me, where are your wings and horn, dear?”
“I don’t know. I probably would have fared better with them.” Octavia replied, answering his joke with one of her own.
“Oh.” He replied, after a slight chuckle. “Tell me, where do you live now?”
“Ponyville.” The captain sucked in air through his teeth.
“That’ll be difficult.” Octavia sighed. “You see, dear, Ponyville is landlocked. We can bring you to a nearby port, but after that, you would be on your own.” He decided to change the subject. “You know, I thought you were dead when they dragged you up.”
“I thought I would be too.”
“I guess it’s a good thing Brine, my first mate, disobeyed my orders.” Octavia looked up at him. “You see, on the high seas, and this crew in particular, it is a very bad omen to hoist up a dead mare. I told him to dump you overboard again.” She looked down at the floor. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay.” There was a pause before the captain spoke again.
“Get some rest. My crew will want to meet you tomorrow.” He walked out of his cabin, leaving her his bed. At least the captain was a gentleman. She laid down, and fatigue began to get the best of her. She fell asleep.
