In the Teak-and-Cotton’s oddly perfumed tea ‘house’ – Teak-and-Cotton being the name of the barge they were on, supposedly derived from the materials most often used to maintain the barge – Speaker found himself entertained by curious ponies who wanted to know how Speaker had survived at sea.

Speaker also quickly learned that the Denzik, the fleet of well over a hundred huge barges, was populated by merchants, their families and other ponies who supported the merchants via fishery, craftsponyship or transport of goods.

“So… some monster pony in Nexus bucked you all across Creation… and you just happened to land near a lighthouse, and survive for how long?” another merchant said, trying to wrap his head around the impossible story that Speaker had told. The merchant, an old stallion with a short beard that Speaker was certain had been dyed black, had a strange accent – as had everyone on the ship. It took Speaker a while to figure it out, but ultimately he recognized the use of colorful and thin silks from how many young unicorns dressed in Lookshy, for there it had once been popular to emulate southern fashion: The Denzik was from the south of creation, so the strange language that his ‘rescue’ party had been talking had been firetongue…

Since he didn’t know whether he could trust his gracious rescuers not to slice his throat in his sleep to collect his Singing Staff, Speaker chose not to reveal it – instead claiming that he’d used his crafting charms to simply reshape the stone island and the sand on it into the lighthouse. Sure, it wasn’t the truth, but given time he could have done it, plus nobody was going back to check the place out.

The question of the nature of Speaker’s power quickly arose – to which end Speaker found that while the Denzik apparently maintained very close ties with the Realm, chiefly because their annual trade route was basically a big circle around the Blessed Isle, plus they benefited greatly from the protection that the Realm’s fleets, then they weren’t particularly devout… which made him feel safe to reveal the true nature of his powers.

To Speaker’s surprise the Denzik merchants seemed to care very little of what divinity that had granted Speaker his powers – but they were very curios about what he could do. To this end, under the guise of making Speaker earn his stay on the Denzik until he could get home, Speaker found himself on the Denzik’s primary medical barge the next day. What happened next was fairly predictable: Speaker cleared the place out in under an hour, to great applause and loud cheers as otherwise terminal or crippled ponies found themselves healed completely.

By the end of the day Speaker’s reputation as a miraculous healer had been firmly established across the Denzik, but that also began to attract critics.

Staying in a guest room on Denzik Hala’s private barge meant that Speaker didn’t get any unwanted guests – but after a few days he did manage to overhear an eerily familiar sound during a muffled argument: The sputtering of elemental flame, typically produced by fire-aspected unicorns, especially when they were angry…

Stepping out of his cabin and up on deck, Speaker found Denzik Hala and her entourage arguing with a very annoyed unicorn: “I will not accept any more delays – I want a straight answer! If the Denzik is housing anathema I will inform the Fire Fleet, and they will search every barge from stern to mast once the Denzik comes to An-Teng!”

Now, Speaker had discovered a few curious things about how the Denzik merchants operated in the days he had been on board – things that told him that the unicorn’s threats were to be taken seriously, but that Hala wasn’t likely to just give him up either:

It had come via a tour of one of the other merchant’s private barges the day before. It was the old stallion from the tea-barge, showing Speaker his ‘hold out stores’. It was apparently common practice, unlike the guild – something the old merchant took pride in pointing out – to go for the long gambles on the Denzik: “See this fun little thing here Ifendi? I bought this fifteen years ago at a port in the north for barely a hoof-ful of silver. I have no idea what it is, but you said you remember things from the first age… so… if you could tell me what it is, I might be able to compensate you for your troubles”

Looking at the broche-looking device, a perfectly clear large hoof-sized square amethyst crystal fixed in a blue jade and orichalcum setting – the crystal had two holes drilled in it at opposite ends, with leather string strung through them, to make the thing into a necklace… unfortunately Speaker recognized it as a translation crystal, a device that could read anything by being placed over a written text – be it wyrd changeling poetry, demonically coded messages, or just texts written in foreign languages – and it would then display what it was currently held over in perfectly translated, decoded and meaningful Old Realm glyphs.

Speaker quickly pointed out that the holes drilled in the thing made it largely useless – the crystal had to be intact. The old merchant nodded: “Ah yes Ifendi – I figured that the damage to the crystal had something to do with it… but can you do anything about it? I’ve seen you regrow a pony’s lost limb, so perhaps… heal this gem Ifendi?”

Ifendi – an evidently southern word often used on the Denzik about foreign business partners. Speaker had been told that it was a very respectful term by Denzik Hala, although she had also warned Speaker that among the other merchants on the Denzik there were lively discussions on how to best exploit Speaker for financial gain. In this way the Denzik wasn’t that much different from the guild – but, as he had very clearly gotten explained – then the Denzik had far higher morals when it came to doing business, plus they were by no means in the habit of going for the quickest and easiest sale. This translation gem was a perfect example of this: Any guild merchant would have recognized that the thing wasn’t working and ordered it dismantled, for the blue jade and orichalcum in the setting was still worth quite a lot of money. This merchant had recognized that holding on to it might earn him more… and judging from the host of other strange assortment of goods that the merchant had stashed away, waiting for a buyer. It was also a testament to the Denzik’s unofficial disregard to the Realm, for anything with orichalcum in it was considered heretical by the immaculates.

“I can fix it, sure – let me have a look here…” Speaker said, floating up the gem and using his essence to patch the gem seamlessly. What couldn’t be seen was the immense amount of essence used, only Speaker’s caste mark flaring and his entire body briefly glowing.

It was so quick, the merchant not even getting a chance to offer Speaker access to a box full of amethyst crystals to carve a replacement gem from… instead Speaker simply mending the gem with pure essence. The merchant was at a loss for words: “Ifendi, that… my….”

Speaker quickly slapped the gem up against a nearby crate and its tacked on cargo manifest written in that strangely swirly fire-tongue, activating the gem. Old Realm glyphs flashed across the purple surface of the gem as Speaker moved it over the text: “Contains: Four mist-water wood vases, bought for 300 silver dinars during calibration at the end of year seven-hundred and three”

“I think it works now” Speaker proudly declared, floating the gem over to the merchant.

Upon returning to his cabin, Speaker found a small chest full of small silver bars on his bed. He quickly hid it elsewhere. The merchant could no doubt sell the gem as a tool for decoding coded military messages, or guild trade secrets, for a fortune far greater that what Speaker had gotten.

Back on the deck of barge a few days later, the shouting unicorn appeared to be getting on Denzik Hala’s nerves. Speaker didn’t want a fight to break out, especially since he knew how destructive a dragonblooded unicorn could be to a wooden environment from his many years in Lookshy – hence why Lookshy built almost all their buildings in stone.

“My dear Ever-Ember, do keep in mind that doing anything that disrupts the Denzik’s business will reflect very poorly on any future employment opportunities you might have here. Please keep that in mind. I am quite aware that the Immaculate Order enjoys getting intelligence from faithful unicorns around Creation, but I doubt that they’ll pay you your usual fee for magical messaging” Denzik Hala noted, her polite if not forced smile never faltering.

The unicorn hesitated for a moment. Denzik Hala was extremely well spoken for a mortal pony – Cash Charmer would probably have loved to mince words with her, as well as other things – but it was clear the unicorn, in its evidently religious fervor, hadn’t considered how his current plan of action might affect any future employment he might get on the Denzik.

Speaker chose this very moment to strike, stepping up the group: “I am the one you’re calling such nasty names – and I must say, I find it in poor taste to criticize a charitable doctor for merely helping those in need”

The unicorn turned to Speaker with a look of righteous indignation in his slitted eyes. The unicorn was clearly of quite good dragonblooded breeding, for he had many draconic features: Around the edges of his hooves were red scales, plus his black mane smoldered at its tips, giving off ever so slight whiffs of smoke in the breeze. Beyond that the unicorn stallion looked more or less normal, as far as fire-aspected unicorns were concerned: A crimson horn and coat, quite typical, and given that the unicorn supposedly was a sorcerer specializing in messaging services, he wore robes embroidered with elemental fire dragons racing around him. Of course, Speaker also knew from Lookshy that fire aspected unicorns were the ones with the fireiest temper… it was a natural part of their magical lineage.

To this end it didn’t really surprise him that much that the unicorn, instead of saying anything to Speaker, simply attempted to blast Speaker with a gout of elemental flame from the tip of his horn. The jet of fire was precisely aimed, perfectly controlled and didn’t even appear to give off any heat to those not in the line of fire – Speaker was impressed. Speaker was also quite unharmed, as his advanced shield charm, what was it Sunrise had called it, the “Iron Kettle Body” technique, sheathed Speaker in a dim but noticeable golden shell that the fire simply harmlessly licked at.

“Ok, nice to meet you to. Would you care to talk about apparently dogmatic differences?” Speaker inquired while being bathed in flames, having to very much stop himself from smirking at the unicorn again and again tries to burn him to cinders.

Denzik Hala and all the ponies around the two seemed well aware that Speaker and the unicorn’s fight was not one to be interfered with – although it was also quite evident that none of the viewers were particularly pleased with the unicorn’s actions.

Speaker, reasonably safe if not a bit sweaty at this point, sized his opponent up: He had no desire to actually hurt the unicorn – mainly because that unicorn was how he wanted to get a message to Shimmer so Cash could come and pick him up, so hurting the unicorn would only make that even less likely, but also because it was clear that this unicorn was no warrior. In Lookshy all ponies who were graced by the dragons were, as a bare minimum, taught to fight well enough that they could match any mortal champion blow for blow. He had no idea how the realm worked in that respect – of course, he couldn’t even be sure that this unicorn was part of a realm noble house: He could be an outcaste, a ‘lost egg’ as unicorns who exalt outside of noble houses were known, or perhaps exiled because of that temper of his? Either way Speaker didn’t feel threatened: The unicorn had a slim physique, that of a scholar, not a warrior – and from having participated in many drills back home in Lookshy, Speaker had a very good idea of how limited the essence reserves of unicorns were, especially compared to that of Solars.

It took just over a minute of non-stop fire blasts for the unicorn to tire spiritually – his body completely drained of essence, to the point that his smoldering mane even appeared to have gone out: “What kind of anathema are you? Why won’t you burn!?”

“I’m the fire-proof sort. Now please, let’s be civil about this – I mean you no harm, I just want to get home to Nexus – and if you will let me, I would like to buy your services to send a message to my business partners to arrange a pickup” Speaker calmly suggested, again fighting the urge to appear smug and rub it into the idiot unicorn just how much more powerful he was. It was a strong urge, that of any victor in a fight, but also compounded by Speaker’s first age memories of unicorns destroying all he held dear. Oh it would be so easy, to just pull Gift out of elsewhere and lob the damn dragonblooded fool’s head off… but no, Shimmer and the circle was waiting for signs of life.

Speaker’s unabashed politeness and calm demeanor both frightened and relieved the unicorn. The dragonblood knew that he was basically defenseless at this point, so this polite cessation of hostilities was far more desirable – plus it allowed the unicorn to save face ever so slightly.

Denzik Hala, seeing that the fight was over, quickly stepped up and ushered the two ponies under deck into a private meeting room – noting to the unicorn in passing, in high realm: “You will be billed for new deck planking to replace the scorched ones” in a very sharp and disapproving tone.

It turned out that the unicorn was a scholar, not born in the realm – and thus an outcaste, but none the less a fervent believer in the immaculate faith. This made conversation tricky, not but not impossible – as Speaker was quickly able to convince the unicorn that, even if they did disagree on the source of Speaker’s powers, then they afforded many positive and good uses – just like the gifts that the dragons bestowed upon unicorns allowed for both good and bad demonstrations of power.

It wasn’t easy for Speaker to control the conversation and steer clear of hazardous topics – but he was mindful of what Cash had said in trying to identify the likes and dislikes of the ponies he spoke to, which was fairly easy for Speaker at least with regards to the Realm and the Immaculate Faith.

The unicorn stallion, Ever-Ember, while a self-proclaimed scholar – turned out to be a bit of an amateur at the trade, or more like a hobbyist. He earned his pay via magical messaging from the Denzik merchants and buying and reselling artifacts to Realm noble houses, as well as occasionally helping out testing or using artifacts brought on board. After a few bottles of southern fruit liquor, which left the unicorn far more sauced than the hardy Lookshyan veteran, Ever-Ember even confided that one of his occasional tasks was to power the special essence-fueled paddle-wheels that some of the barges were outfitted with, which ensured that the Denzik maintained top speed between ports even if the winds and currents were unfavorable.

Speaker in turn wasn’t immune to the creamy drinks either, although he maintained himself far better, joking about the many strange concierge medicine offers that his circle-mate Cash Charmer had lined up – everything from vain guild merchants who wanted miniscule warts removed, to what had proved to be hypochondriacs with far too much money to throw around who probably just needed a servant to follow them around with a constant supply of clean napkins to wipe their noses: “…and maybe change their diapers if the really wanted to be babied, but I think you go to the Harlotry for that”

“Well, Denzik merchants aren’t that different – though being at sea so much makes everyone a bit more humble: You can’t waste too much storage space on personal luxuries… a shame really, but it’s the price you pay for going beyond the Immaculate’s censorship” Ever-Ember noted.

Neither Speaker nor his drinking buddy noticed, but Denzik Hala as well as some of her servants kept mindful tabs on the two – and to the great relief of the Denzik merchants, then the fact that the two seemed to have buried the hatchet (or fermented it…) pleased them to no end.

It amused Speaker that Ever-Ember seemed aware – even if he wouldn’t admit it directly – that working outside of the jurisdiction of the Immaculates gave him access to ancient manuscripts and artifacts that wouldn’t be available to collectors and scholars on the blessed isle. Ever-Ember in turn apparently made good business by selling copies and transcribed versions of the otherwise heretical documents. If it was something written in eternally shiny orichalcum inks on strange never-aging paper the Immaculates would probably just burn it as anathema scribbles, but if a copy was made on ordinary perishable paper with normal inks then there was no problem.

“Hmm… tell you what, I know the Chief Librarian in the Great Forks House of Learning – He pays well for first age manuscripts. If you ever want to cash in old scrolls that you’ve already transcribed then that’s not a bad place to sell them” Speaker noted, trying to recall the library god’s name… not remembering that the indexing-obsessed library god’s name simply was that very label “Library God”.

The unicorn gave Speaker a stern look, as if trying to gauge whether Speaker was pulling his leg or not: “Any idea how much he’ll pay?”

Speaker couldn’t tell – but told Ever-Ember how much he’d been paid for simply helping to verify some of the library’s oldest texts. The unicorn’s smile reminded Speaker of how Cash would smile from time to time.

Considering the unicorn’s apparent willingness to cash in on his old texts, Speaker got an idea: “Say friend, I understand that you send sorcerous messages around here – right? Well, I have a friend back east I need to contact so he can come and pick me up before we get too close to Realm waters. If you could send him a message I’m sure you could come along for the ride as well, with all the scrolls you’d want to sell in Great Forks”

Ever-Ember eyed Speaker incredulously: “There’s a long way between Nexus and Great Forks you know… longer yet to the Denzik from Nexus”

“And my friend can cover that distance in just under four hours – he could probably be here in… hmmm… I’m guessing three days?” Speaker reasoned, figuring that with a flight speed of around a hundred and fifty miles an hour from Cash on Nah, with Speaker himself having cleared at least seven thousand five five-hundred miles, if he was supposed to be somewhere in the waters between the western archipelago and An-Teng.

The unicorn looked at what he’d been drinking, then at Speaker: “How much of this have you had?”

“Just humor me – tell you what, I have this nice little chest full of silver here - if you send the message to my friends and my pickup isn’t here in a week it’s your – but if he does show up you double what’s in the chest” Speaker said, retrieving the small chest from elsewhere with surprising ease – to the point that it even surprised Speaker a little bit, having expected to have to wait the usual half a minute or so for non-weapons stored elsewhere to appear… in retrospect he figured that, well, he could have thrown the chest and the small silver bars inside. Of course, if that was the case then nearly anything could be used as a weapon… hmmm… that would require experimentation later on.

After having shaken off the shock of Speaker having suddenly made a small wooden chest full of silver appear, Ever-Ember nodded fervently: “Sure, your loss – who do you want the message sent to?”

“A mare by the name of Last Shimmer, she should be somewhere in Nexus if that’s any help” Speaker noted, folding the chest back into elsewhere with the unicorn gawking at him.

Blinking a few times and waving a hoof where the chest had just been, Ever-Ember shook his head ever so slightly: “Nah, just a name will do – the spell seeks out the intended recipient, not just any random pony with the same name. So, what’s the message?”

“Dearest Shimmer. It has been far too long since I’ve heard your voice, so be a dear and send Cash on Nah to the Denzik city-ship to come and pick me up as soon as possible. The Denzik is somewhere between Abalone on Wavecrest and An-Teng, but it shouldn’t be difficult to spot from the air, especially during the day. Perhaps bring Sully to scout for it. Also, I’ve wagered a rather large sum of silver I’ve earned that Cash can be here within a week – I don’t want to lose that bet… love you, Speaker”

A few hours later, in Nexus, amidst the muffled cacophony of a million ponies and the pervasive noise of a thousand industries, a single mare cried out in joy. A yeddim flew off into the sky not much later, much to those who saw it’s confusion and disbelief.

Back on the Denzik, after Speaker had his message sent, the Solar and the unicorn parted ways but agreed to meet in a week – if not sooner – to settle the bet. The return message Speaker got just as he got back to his cabin assured him that he’d win.

Taking it easy the next few days, healing the few remaining sick and injured who came to him, plus earning a bit more silver by taking a look at and repairing a few other strange gadgets and artifacts that the various Denzik merchants came to him with, some overtly and others covertly, Speaker found himself spending his nights quite comfortably in tea barges, or at lavish parties held in his honor – either because of all the money he’d make the host for having fixed something valuable, or because he’d healed someone rich’s son, daughter, uncle, brother or what have you.

On the fourth day after the message had been Speaker began to get a little anxious. He hadn’t heard from the circle since the return message that simply told him that Shimmer, Cash and Sullen Hoof had left to get him – and the weather was taking a big turn for the worse…

In the west the oceanic storms were known among its sailor ponies to produce waves up to fifty yards high – enough to swallow and capsize almost any ship whole. As Speaker saw that the Denzik slowed down, with all the ponies returning to their own barges and battening down all the hatches, hoisting all the sails… it all looked fairly sensible, but there was something else: The ponies around him looked frightened.

Now, Speaker didn’t have the social observational skills of Cash, nor could he read others as effectively and methodically as Sullen Hoof and he didn’t have the many decades of practical experience with ponies that Shimmer had – but it was none the less clear as day that the ponies on the Denzik were afraid of the storm that loomed in the horizon… which really didn’t make sense to Speaker.

It was weird: The over one hundred barges that made up the denzik, each well over fifty yards wide and at least a hundred long, were all heavy and loaded with a multitude of goods as well as repair materials, so each barge seemed well equipped to hold its own against the storm – and together, with the way that the barges were chained and tethered to each other, it seemed even less likely that anything could go wrong since one barge could help another easily.

Then the grand visage of a huge water spout appeared before the Denzik – a continuous explosion of water, like a geyser, so big that despite Speaker being on one of the barges in the middle of the Denzik he could see and… hear it?

A grim face appeared on the geyser, chiefly just two foamy eyes and the occasional ‘falling’ of water that gave the rough image of a mouth. Its voice was like the bubbly screams of a hundred ponies struggling not to drown – yet as a grotesque chorus it was quite easy to understand the words it was saying, especially to Speaker since the thing spoke in Old Realm: “Ponies of the Denzik, the most beautiful and grand mistress and mother of storms, the heavenly and fair Soelot, demands tribute for all who pass through her waters lest they face her wrath”

Great, it was another god extorting ponies – now as a watery toll road. This enfuriated Speaker, especially because he faintly recalled how in the first age the eclipse caste solars brought all the storm mothers – the goddesses in charge of Creation’s oceanic storms – to heel quite effectively, so the fact that at least some of them were acting up like this now meant that they were ignoring past oaths and promises to simply live in peace and do their jobs.

The gigantic storm cloud moved closer to the Denzik while Speaker made his way to the barges at the front. Many ponies on the barges tried to stop Speaker, but they all spoke in one of those gobbledygook languages that he couldn’t understand – plus Speaker would just jump from rope to rope, balancing on otherwise impossibly thin or tiny flagpoles or ledges, much to the amazement of those in view thanks to his perfect balance charm. If only he’d learned that improved jumping technique that he’d seen Sullen Hoof use so often.

At the very front of the Denzik, where the great water-spout had emerged from the otherwise very calm waters, Speaker found Denzik Hala and a number of other exceedingly well dressed ponies – probably the rest of the bigwigs, majority shareholders and whatnot that owned the floating city. They appeared to be arguing who should present the tribute they had made ready, a large mahogany pail full of jade, gems and other valuables.

Seeing Speaker, Denzik Hala gestured for one of her servants to send him away. The young stallion that approached Speaker humbly requested that he leave: “Please good sir, it is not safe – you must return to your quarters”

“Not happening – I’m putting a stop to this shakedown” Speaker said, pushing the servant aside and approaching the ground of Denzik leaders.

Denzik Hala wasn’t particularly pleased. The messenger which had arrived the day before from Soelot’s court, specifying the exact amount of jade and gems that the storm mother wanted per each living pony on Denzik in order to let it pass had risen by quite a lot since last year – and now her illustrious anathema guest wanted to talk: “Yes what is it? I’m a little busy here”
It was easy enough to tell that Denzik Hala was stressed. She was usually so calm and collected, no matter what was going on, so Speaker found her behavior quite odd in this way – none the less he stated his intentions with a stern face: “This shakedown is a farce. I will not stand for it – me and my friends have already disciplined a river god back east for doing something similar to this, so if you and your fellow merchants would step aside... then I will make this storm bitch go away”
There was a moment of calm. A team of hauler-ponies arrived and asked if they should load up the pail into the sacrificial boat – but ultimately Denzik Hala waved them off: “Are you sure you can do this? You are aware what will happen to us if you fail?”

“Oh I’m well aware of that – but the thing is, in ancient times the god of gods, Celestia the Unconquered Sun, gave us Solars the mandate of heaven to rule all of Creation as we saw fit… so if I say stop this god has to, for I have friends in Heaven who can see her demoted to the goddess of a puddle if she doesn’t – plus I can very much hold my own against things of water” Speaker said confidently.

The other majority shareholders in their brightly colored clothing and rather expensive looking jewelry looked weary – Speaker understood their hesitation. Summoning forth Gift, much to the surprise of everyone as they all took a step or two back, Speaker exhaled slowly and took a deep breath: “I am the reincarnation of an ancient divine weapon meant to slay demons by the millions, slay the masters of demons by their thousands, and slay their makers again by the dozen – and I tell you, we did so quite well. A little upstart god is no match for me”

Revving Gift for added effect, the ponies around him still looked hesitant. Speaker had seen such hesitation among many ponies before when he had served under Lookshy’s banners – frightened civilian ponies who had no stomach for battle, who worried more about short term collateral damage rather than the long term gains of fending off raiders that would simply come back for more if not permanently taken care of. This was no different.

Quickly going through the magical kata that was the Thousand Wounds Gear form, Speaker flung Gift into the plume of water – it racing up the column, faintly trailing golden light with it. The elemental voice that had spoken previously shrieked momentarily – then the water geyser exploded and collapsed, quite a lot of water raining down over the Denzik.

In an impressive scramble, servants managed to whip out bamboo and wax paper umbrellas to cover the important looking ponies around Speaker before the water hit. Still, between the massive cascades of water that came down on them all it was Speaker who remained standing afterwards thanks to his elemental immunity and perfect balance charms, while almost everyone else were at least knocked over.

It pleased Speaker to no end to see that the few ponies who had been washed overboard were quickly rescued via wooden flotation devices tied to ropes, allowing for those still on the barges to quickly pull those in the water up.

Suddenly a decidedly ugly voice boomed out from the storm cloud. It was loud and felt a good deal like churning broken glass in Speaker’s ears – and everyone elses on the Denzik as it spoke in Old Realm: “Who dares strike at Soelot the magnificent’s servants? Who wishes for a watery grave?”

The storm cloud bulged and moved at supernatural speeds to cover all of the Denzik in its shadow – which suited Speaker just fine… for he knew quite well that his light would shine all the brighter under the shadow of the corrupt and villainous: “I strike at you Soelot, now show yourself and stop hiding behind clouds!”

A tornado-like swirl of black storm-cloud descended from the main storm cell, stopping about ten yards above and in front of Speaker. Under it the waters churned as at least two or three dozen elementals vied to be nearest to their cruel mistress, while around it elementals of wind in the form of giant translucent birds formed a throne out of their shimmering wings. The goddess herself, Soelot, was… well… ugly. Her body of water vapor condensed into a grey form, similar to a pony, but lumpy and misshapen, with a skin that seemed slick and constantly moist. Instead of a mane she had lone scraggly strands of thick hairs hanging from her head, and not even her eyes were equal in size or color. It was as if this goddess had been made to be has hideous as possible to all sensible eyes. Speaker was certain that the reason for this storm mother’s ugliness was somewhere to be found – but right now it was her behavior which was most reprehensible.

The storm mother’s elemental throne floated nearer Speaker: “You dare strike at my servants? Why shouldn’t I strike you down with lightning right now?”

“Oh I would like to see you try…” Speaker mused, his mind fully alert in case he needed to raise his shield charm.

A split second later thunder cracked the skies, hitting Speaker perfectly – and as the bright light subsided Speaker still stood, even if a bit singed and coughing ever so slightly… shield charm or not: “Right, like I said: I would like to see you try”

The goddess gave Speaker a very careful look. Among those who knew spirits and gods they would describe it as the spirit or god ‘measuring the wind’ – a divine ability quite commonplace among heavenly beings, as it allowed them a heavenly sense of what was around them and in their domain. Soelot did not look happy about what she found, indeed she looked frightened: “No…”

“Oh yes – and we’re all coming back” Speaker said, flaring his anima. The bright golden gear around him, and the six golden wings in three pairs that unfolded from it were clearly visible from almost every barge on the Denzik, or at least from up in the masts of the barges furthest back.

Speaker couldn’t hear the scattered cries of “Anathema!” around on the barge, but Denzik Hala knew that if this didn’t end well she would have to deal with detractors accusing her of colluding with dark forces to ruin the Denzik – of course, if things didn’t end well here there probably wouldn’t be a Denzik…

“Impossible – you were all gone! These seas are mine now!” Soelot shrieked, appearing to climb up behind her throne to hide herself.

Unimpressed with the sudden change of tone from the goddess, Speaker decided to push on as his anima faded: “Well you’re wrong on both counts now. The Denzik is under my protection, and I know a western Lunar who would probably love to hear that a local corrupt god has been brought to heel”

Lightning once again cracked the sky, striking Speaker multiple times. His shield charm held, for the most part, but there was a lot more juice put into these thunderbolts that the previous ones – leaving Speaker a good deal worse for wear and the part of the barge he was standing on slightly charred. Ponies around him were quick to toss buckets of water at Speaker and the planks he stood on to put out any fires as the lightning abated.

Using his anesthetic charm on himself and steeling himself, Speaker ignored what damages the lightning might have done to him – even if his left forehoof felt sluggish on account of it: “You dare attack me? A solar? I can’t even begin to count how many heavenly edicts and laws you’ve broken doing that, not to mention the Maritime Harmony Act that I remember the solar admiralty having all oceanic gods swear to back in the first age. I believe the punishment of that alone is at least three hundred years as a starmetal bedpan”

Soelot, peeking out from behind her ironically transparent throne, smirked – revealing crooked and filthy teeth: “Dead ponies don’t complain!”

Finally looking down at his left forehoof and seeing how much it was bleeding – plus the color of his flesh looked… cooked, Speaker frowned. He could fix that up in no time, but he knew the limits of his healing charms as well: His wound-mending care technique could mend his flesh quite well, but it would flood his system with its powers, leaving him unable to apply it again on himself for a whole day, so he didn’t want to use it yet. It was time to get offensive.

Rearing up and retrieving Gift from elsewhere in a single swift motion, Speaker pointed Gift at Soelot: “Begone storm mother. My mandate of heaven trumps your petty lightning – and I don’t ever want to hear of you exacting tolls and tribute from ships moving through your territory!”

More lightning, but this time Speaker acted quickly, using Gift and the defensive techniques afforded by the Thousand Wounds Gear style – blocking the lightning bolts as they came. To onlookers it seemed as if Speaker moved with impossible clockwork precision, him actually catching the forking lightning not on the flat of the golden disk, but between the bladed teeth that spun around it – holding the lightning in place!

Having caught the lightning, each jagged fork of hot essence leading right up to Soelot’s raised and misshapen hoof, Speaker grabbed hold and heaved…

Author's Note

49 chapters and first now a meaningful encounter with a unicorn... wow

Makes you wonder how long it'll take before the circle ever encounters a pegasus pony