The Count of Misty Sickle
Twas a calm night on the sea and the cool moonlight shone brightly through the open window on board the Clovenhoof. The first mate’s cabin was a small room just across the hall from the captain’s quarters, only able to fit a hammock, a chair and a small desk only big enough for one piece of parchment at a time, not that there were many, most of that just went straight to the captain or if it was more important, say perhaps a payment, it would be placed in a vault that is only allowed to be opened while the ship is in port.
A pony lay in the hammock, sleeping lightly. The waves outside rocking his hammock to and fro giving the stallion fond memories of being a foal which wove into his dreams, he smiles for a moment and then precedes snoring softly. His ears twitch and he opens one eye aware that something in the quiet calm atmosphere has changed. After a few moments there is a soft knocking from outside his door.
Using the rocking of his hammock to his advantage he rolls out of his place of slumber and lands quietly on three legs while he uses one of his forelegs to scratch his head, mindful of the horn lodged in his mangled dark mane. He strode over to the door as elegantly as he could have been just woken up and being on a vessel of the sea. The stallion opened the door to the main hall of the ship to see the backside of one of the younger deckhands pointed at him. The colt had not noticed the stallion open the door behind him and jumped when he heard the gruff voice of the first mate behind him.
“What seems to be the trouble lad?” The stallion asked the still recovering colt that had started nervously shivering, it was easy to tell that the colt had never been addressed directly by anypony of importance, it did not matter that the stallion in question was important to very few.
“I-I don’t know mister Depth, the captain will not answer his door.” The colt squeaked.
The stallion sighed; he knew the captain was getting old probably far too old to still be doing his job. And with old age comes the loss of many things and one of those includes the hearing ability that is usually flawless in foals.
The colt watched as the first mate walked around him and opened the captain’s door without knocking or even the slightest hesitation. “Just call me Dark.” He whispered to the deckhand as he let himself into the room.
It was a relatively plush room compared to the rest of the ship, but really and room would have looked more comfortable if it had even a single cushion in it. It was a bit bigger than the first mates quarter across the hall with room for a larger desk and a few feet of walking space left over, but that was filled with a funny looking contraption extending from where the hammock would be. A bed with long think springs to absorb the impact of the waves outside stood with a very old bearded stallion resting motionlessly atop it.
Dark Depth strode up to him and prodded him gently in the foreleg without uttering a word. Without getting a response he prodded him a little harder, still nothing. A bit of panic that had been ebbing at his mind after the first poke was now not easy to ignore, sure he was old but why now? Becoming a little frantic dark depth did the only thing he could think of at the time to guarantee a response if he was going to get one, he put a magic aura around the captain and flung him against the wall.
The captain’s form went sailing through the air and hit the wall with a thud before falling to the ground still slack. Dark was to shocked to relies that even if the captain hadn’t been dead, being thrown against the wall probably would have done him in anyway. He turned slowly to the colt still standing in the doorway whose jaw was slack and his dinner plate sized eyes where entangled with the gaze of his fallen captain.
Dark slowly made his way over to the colt and set him on his wither as he left the cabin and closed the door behind him. He stopped for a moment as the colt on his back wrapped his forelegs around Dark’s neck and pressed his snout into the fur on his back, he wasn’t very subtle about his mourning.
Dark Depth walked down the hall, up the stairs and out of the door onto the deck. Quite a few ponies turned their heads to look at Dark as he headed out from below deck. They had all heard a thud from below but did not know what it was, but they could tell by the expression on Dark’s face that is was not good news.
A mare approached him, her mane tied back so it wouldn’t get in the way while working with the sails of the ship. “Dark, is something wrong?” She asked the stern looking stallion, worry clear in her voice.
Dark said nothing but lifted the colt off of his back and walked to the front of the Clovenhoof where he put his forehooves on the railing and gazed over the sea. All eyes were now on him, all except for the colt who scooted over to the mare and clung to her leg, his eyes still wet with tears.
“If something is wrong then the captain must be alerted right away! Depth, where is the ol’ cap?” another stallion yelled from across the deck even though the crew was so quiet that he could have probably been heard if he whispered.
Dark Depth sighed again, tears forming in his own eyes. He had been working with the captain for over five years and although he could be a bit senile at times, he was a good man and always put his crew first. Especially when they got to the mainland after a long voyage and he would yell “First round is on me!” but now he was gone, forever.
After a very pregnant pause dark turned around to face his crew and was only able to get a few quiet words out before his throat locked up again. “Your speaking to him.”