Sea

by Barque

Rating: teen
Tags: Random, Alternate Universe, Adventure
Length: 28419

Twilight Sparkle sails the sea.

Twilight Sparkle sails the sea.

This story will be on hiatus and will undergo a major rewrite and return with a completely different schedule.

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2015-12-17 05:40:26 UTC

Twilight

Twilight Sparkle sat in the back of her boat, propped up against the rear wall. Her mane was messy and unkempt, her coat covered in dust, salt, grime, and sand, her tail unclean. Her face was one of equal parts boredom, sadness, and apathy, and she wore nothing but tattered old rags for clothes. Her legs were sprawled out across the boat's deck, lying like logs on the teak. Her eyes looked directly into the sunrise.

She did not call her boat by its name, for to her it had no name. It was simply "her boat." It was a name that bore no special connection, no inherent uniqueness, no specialty, no magical powers, nothing but the fact it was hers. It displayed no feelings, no emotion; and that was exactly what she wanted at this point.  All the same, in her time with it, she'd learned everything important about it, from exactly how much to put out the sail for whatever wind condition to how to use her hoof to measure where she was going, from navigating by the stars to adjusting to the ship's slight tendency to turn when underway, All these little tips and tricks, how to tell before dawn even came what the day would likely be like just by the slapping of the waves against the hull, how to tell precise time using the mast as a sundial, all of them helped her survive in some way or another. They gave her no feelings about her boat; they were just necessities to keep her alive.

Now, she slowly, laboriously, got to her hooves. She walked up to the mast, giving a small tug on the ropes to check its connections, before continuing all the way forward. Her horn quickly lit up with magic, and she slowly lifted the planks covering the under-deck away. She brought out a pair of metal pans, and filled one with seawater. She held both pans in her magic, the sea-water filled one below and the empty one above, and then suddenly lit a magic fire underneath the seawater-filled pan, instantly evaporating all the water in the pan and causing it to float into the one above it. She used a quick ice spell to freeze as much water in the top pot as she could, before dumping all the salt, sand, and ocean detritus she picked up from the seawater overboard. She'd run out of packed freshwater weeks ago - or was it months, now? - and had had to resort to more creative measures in order to keep herself alive. Thankfully, she'd only been without water for about a day before she came up with this technique; now, water was no concern to her as long as she could bring in enough seaweed, kelp, and green algae to keep herself fed. She took a sip of the near-pure water and felt the angelic drops of cold, delicious water roll down the inside of her throat. She drank viciously, holding the pan to her face and letting all the water it contained flow into her mouth and through her body, rejuvenating her and preparing her for another long day at sea.

Flotsam

The crate slowly bobbed up and down in the waves. It was a simple crate, a dark brown box made of wood planks and held together with dull grey iron nails. On its front was inscribed "East Edge Company" in bold, black letters. It was slowly spinning as it drifted on the rising wind.

The sea was specked with things like it. Dozens of boxes of barrels of varying colors and sizes all floated like specks of dust on the sea. There was no rhyme or reason to their placement; the sea had placed them wherever she wanted, and was continuously pushing them. They occasioannly bumped into each other as they floated downstream, before floating apart again.

Twilight sailed her dhow through the swarm of boxes. She curiously looked at the crates; they were the first signs of civilization she'd seen in weeks, if not months. They floated all around her boat, passing around or bumping into it. She leaned over the side and poked one with her hoof as it stuck to the side. It sounded and bobbed a little, but held firm. She poked it again. The result was the same. She raised the dhow's sail, then looked below deck for a second. She came back woth a well-worn coil of rope, which she tied around the crate then used to hoist it onto the deck. It started dripping water, but she was fairly certain its contents were at least in salvagable condition. She went below deck again, this time returning with a rusted strip of metal. She shoved it underneath the crate's lid with her hooves - no easy task - then put her weight on it. The nails keeping the top attatched to the box easily slipped out, and the lid fell onto the deck with a clatter. She looked inside...

... and was greeted with a sight she was quite glad for : a crate full of biscuits. They were very hard, probably stale biscuits, but they were biscuits nonetheless. She took one out and began to munch on it; compared to her diet of seaweed seasoned with algae, the food was ambrosia. She took another, then another, until she was full of dry, bready goodness. She made it a point to try and bring more crates aboard, for if this one was full of such goodness then surely others must have something worth salvaging. In the end, she'd brought no less than five crates aboard before she'd begun to run out of deck space. She'd popped the lid on most of them, but one was still untouched, mainly because she was too tired to open it. The crates she had opened were full of everything from crackers and biscuits to fruits and vegetables, and one had some sort of strange pink material covered in ice. She'd tried it, but almost vomited as soon as it touched her taste buds. There had to be some reason for it to be in a crate, though, so she'd decided to keep it.

She lay, content, on her back, watching the sky with a full stomach and a hopeful gleam to her eyes. Maybe, just maybe, she'd make it after all. It couldn't be that much further west, and she almost certainly had enough food to make it wherever now. Her eyes took in the blue sea above her, dotted with thin, high-flying white clouds. The wind was steadily blowing, but not intensely. The dhow's sail was completely furled and secured to the boom with a knot of rope. The sea was fairly calm, with gentle waves slowly rocking the boat. All in all, life felt good.

Then, on the distant horizon, a flash of lightning.

Squall

The storm came quickly and without mercy. Twilight barely had time to get up and stow most of the boxes below deck before her boat was tossed about by wind and wave. A torrent of rain suddenly started, drenching everything on deck, and a rising gale blew to the west. In the distance, thunder struck the water. She ran to the stern of the boat, quickly gripping the tiller with her hooves and trying to keep the boat steady with the waves.

Spray washed over the deck, drenching her further. The boat rose on the wave, and then the bow poked over the edge. The boat slid down the other side of the wave, hitting the water with a mighty splash. The hull shook and groaned with the impact. Through a cloud of spray, Twilight grit her teeth. She took the small repose offered by the trough to put out the sail as much as she could, running back to the tiller just as the boat began to rise once more. The sail pulled hard in the wind; the boat gained such speed that it leapt into the air for a brief moment as it peaked the wave. It slammed back into the water on the way down with a massive thud and a cloud of spray.

Twilight was thrown to the floor by the impact. She barely got to her hooves when the boat started pitching onto another wave. She fell towards the stern and grabbed the tiller, desperately trying to keep the boat pointed into the wave. The rudder was turned as far as it would go, but the boat was still at quite an angle when it hit the crest of the wave. The dhow leapt this time, flying a good twenty feet forwards before slamming into the front of another wave. Twilight lost her grip on the tiller and was thrown into the water, breathless. She quickly rose to the surface and looked around for a moment, before ducking down under the water to avoid the boat as it rushed past. She tried to grab the boat, and managed a tenuous grip on the rudder.

Try as she might, she couldn't quite hoist herself over the stern of the boat. She was, however, able to grab the stern above the deck, and hang on fairly well to it, if a bit uncomfortably. Her rear hooves were able to move the rudder, albeit with some effort, and she could almost see over the back of the boat. It was like this that she was caught unawares by the massive drop ahead. The water had been rising with some speed for almost a minute; and now, a drop almost a hundred feet lay ahead. Her eyes went wide as she felt the boat fly over the edge - dragging her with it.

At last she was able to quickly hoist herself into the boat as it made its way down, although that wasn't much comfort to her. She gripped the tiller tightly, more for support than being able to control whatever landing would come. She braced herself for the boat to land, closing her eyes tightly and wrapping her body around the rudder. She waited five seconds... ten seconds.... After fifteen seconds, she opened her eyes, looking around  - only to feel a massive jolt and hear a loud crunch. Her head knocked against the deck, and everything went black.

Westward

Ahead of her loomed a great wall of grey clouds, stretching from the sea all the way up the sky. It had an abrupt end; no pieces of dark storm passed beyond the edge of the wall, but she could hear the sounds of thunder and the roaring of massive waves even from this far away. And yet, she stood on the bow of the boat with a determined grin. She'd made it this far; what was this but just a storm? It wouldn't be the first, after all. Her horn lit up, and the sail lowered further.

The boat went into the storm. Twilight was not afraid.

Ship

Twilight Sparkle slowly awoke. Before she even opened her eyes, she felt an intense pain in her foreleg and in her horn. She tightly gripped her horn with a hoof; the pain subsided slightly. She let out a quiet groan, and heard what sounded like a door opening and closing. Her eyes shot open.

There was a sea of planks above her, stretching to the end of her vision on her right and abruptly ending on the left. She turned her head to the left; a small window lay in the middle of a plank wall, showing the wide ocean. Next to the window was a sconce with a candle in it, and on the other side there was a painting of what looked like a massive boat, with three masts covered in sails, passing out of a storm. Her eyes grew slightly wider as her vision went down towards her lower body. She was covered in a blanket in a mahogany bed; something that certainly wasn't there when she'd gone down. She looked to her right, into the rest of the room; the other wall was at least ten, maybe fifteen feet away, and was decorated much the same. There was also a large desk with a quill and inkpot on it.

She slowly took the blanket off and observed the state of her body. She was completely nude save for her own purple coat, which seemed much cleaner than it had before. She looked at her hooves; besides a slightly bloody strip of cloth over her forehoof, she seemed in fairly good condition. She slowly tried to get out of the bed and get a better look around; as soon as her hoof touched the teak deck, it let out a loud creak. She recoiled her hoof reflexively; she tried again, and while it made the same sound again, she deemed it safe enough to put her weight on. She awkwardly got out of the bed to rest on three hooves, with her injured foreleg hanging in the air. She walked a few paces into the middle of the room and took another look around. Sure enough, there was a door in what she assumed to be the front wall. Opposite it, there was a massive set of windows, spanning almost from one side of the room to another. They went almost floor-to-ceiling and offered a view of the ocean, and a massive wake following the vessel. She stumbled towards the desk, making it about three-quarters of the way across the room when the door opened.

"She's in there, Cap'n." she heard a voice say. She turned to look, eyes wide, like a deer caught in headlights.

A tall, lanky stallion walked into the room. He wore an elaborate sea-blue coat with white trim that flowed over itself and covered most of his creme coat, a tricorn hat over his burgundy mane, and a pair of brown leather pants on his rear. He leaned against the doorframe, looking at Twilight with piercing green-blue eyes. He walked into the room after a few seconds, staring at Twilight. He walked in a circle around her, paying careful attention to her flanks. After he'd completed a full circle, he muttered, "Well. Look what we fished." He cleared his throat and looked up. "That mark, on your flank. Where'd you get it?"

Twilight looked behinder her. "Who are you?"

"That comes later. First, the mark. What does it mean? Who'd you pay to tattoo it?"

"Tattoo it? This isn't a tattoo." Twilight looked back at her own side. "I don't even know any tattoo artists."

"That's not authentic." he said, staring at her face. "I can tell."

"What do you mean? I got it when I was a filly."

"Really?" The captain walked over to his chair and pulled it out with a whitish glow. It was only then that she noticed the small horn poking out of his hat. "Sorry if I don't believe the naked mare we found dying in a sinking boat is a genuine Marked," he said sarcastically. "Spit it out. What information are you smuggling?"

"I don't know what you're talking about!" she said, perhaps a bit too forcefully. "All I know is I need to go west."

The captain's eyebrow raised. "West? What for?"

Twilight looked at the ground. "I... I don't know. I only know that whatever it is, it's to the west."

The stallion looked at her intently. "Where are you from, lass?" he said, standing up and slowly walking over towards her.

"Ponyville... in Equestria..." she said, not looking up.

The captain's eyes widened slightly. "You don't say..." He walked over to her. "Tell me, lass. If you really are an Equestrian, what're you doing this far from there? You must've crossed the Great Barrier almost a month ago, going at the speed you were."

"Going west," she said, looking at him. The captain just sighed.

"Well, that's enough questioning for now. I assume I won't be getting much more out of you right now, anyway." He turned around, walked a few paces away, and then turned to face her again. "Let's start again. What's your name?"

"Twilight Sparkle," she said, not looking up. The captain just walked over to her. She cringed slightly, closing her eyes, but opened them a few seconds later.

"This is the part where you shake my hoof and I tell you my name," he said after she didn't move. She tentatively reached out her injured hoof; the captain pressed his to her hoof and shook it, before saying, "Nice to meet you, Ms. Sparkle. I am Captain Somerset of the Eastedge Naval Patrol. Welcome, officially, aboard Her Majesty's Ship, the sixth-rate Frigate Eagle." He did a over-the-top bow. "I hope you enjoy your time aboard."

Twilight just gently released her hoof. She still stared at the captain. "Thanks." she said awkwardly after a few seconds passed.

The captain just nodded, bowing again. "Right. If that will be all, I'll make my way up to the deck. Enjoy your time aboard, and feel free to go anywhere on the ship except the lowest deck. If you decide to go exploring, you're supposed to make your way back to the deck at sunset for evening roll call. And put on some clothes while you're at it."

Twilight just nodded as the stallion turned around and walked out of the door. She waited a few minutes in the room, looking around and leafing through the papers on the desk - mostly lists of terms she'd never seen before with numbers next to them - before realizing just how little there actually was to do in this room and, quickly slipping into a simple white shirt and brown pants slightly too big for her size, walked towards the door to the outside of the ship.

Deck

The ship's deck was busy. Some ponies walked to and fro across the deck while others climbed high into the rigging, turning the yards of the massive sails.  The canvass sails pulled against their mountings and ropes, and on more than one occasion a sailor would have to run up to the yard and fix the sail back into position. Only the topsails, spanker, and jibs were out, pushing the ship through the moderate winds with a steady force. They billowed in the breeze. Lower down, the ropes were covered in ponies crawling up and down to work on the masts. The deck itself was made of planks laid horizontal to the ship's keel. There was no wood in the center of the deck; instead, the space was covered by a two-piece canvass tarp wrapped around the mainmast. The wreckage of her dhow - easily dwarfed by the ship she was now on - lay just behind the mainmast, ahead of the stern deck.

A sailor bumped into her, giving her a stinkeye. She looked at him for a second, before looking down and walking out. Even on the relatively low height of the sixth-rate frigate, she was much higher than she'd ever been at sea before. Looking over the ship's railing gave her a minor case of vertigo as she saw the waters parting around the sides of the hull. The side was painted yellow, with a white stripe near the middle over what looked to be the second deck; a number of doors were inlaid into the hull below, all in a line, painted white. Below that was another bit of yellow, and just before going under the water the hull color switched to black. Twilight just watched the water next to the ship for almost five minutes, before looking back up at the deck. Far ahead, a boom stuck out of the front of the ship, with a number of triangle-shaped sails sticking out of the top. She navigated her way through the crowds towards the front of the railing.

Here, the sea air was much fresher. There were few ponies this far forward; those who were were busy holding onto the ropes along the bowsprit. She put her legs over the railing and sat on her flank for a while, watching the sea and sky ahead. The ship rocked slightly with the gently rolling waves, and the sky to the west was clear and cloudless. She was only disturbed by a shouting from behind. Curious, she turned her head back. The ponies were running across the deck now; a number disappeared into a door that led under the deck. She walked across the deck, through the crowd again, and disappeared below the deck.

The second deck of the ship was a dank, dark dungeon of a place. The air reeked of a smell similar to that of fireball spells, or like firework powder. Her nose wrinkled at the smell. Visually, it wasn't much better. A lone lamp, hanging off the mainmast, provided most of the lighting below deck. The doors on the side of the deck were flung open quickly, though, and then suddenly a significant amount more light flooded into the ship. She saw ponies working together to push strange, metal cylinders on top of wooden blocks with wheels attached to the sides of the ship. She was curious, but decided now was probably not a good time to question. A bell rang out from somewhere above deck. Boxes full of a strange powder and of round iron balls were placed next to the strange metal contraptions. Twilight ran back out onto the deck.

"What's going on?" she asked nopony in particular. She heard a familiar voice behind her.

"Smugglers." Captain Somerset looked through a gilded spyglass towards the horizon. "Looks like we have a fight on our hands. Get into the cabin."

"But-"

"That's an order. Now."

Twilight sighed, and ran back into the ship's stern cabin.

Boarding

...only to be halted by Somerset as he raised his hoof.

"You smugglers." He looked down at the sloop. "We will give you mercy. Surrender your cargo and come aboard and we will not fire. We will bring you back to Sunsport, where you will be tried for the crime of smuggling, but you will survive." He flashed a menacing grin. "The other option is the more fun one. Resist, and we blow your ship halfway to the Black Sea." He drew his sword. "So, what'll it be?"

The smugglers looked at one another. After a second, one of them drew a pistol and began aiming it at Somerset, who just chuckled.

"I love it when they take the fun route."

The cannons on the Eagle all fired, one after another, into the hull of the poor sloop. Its sides and deck were covered in holes, and much of its crew had fallen to the deck or been launched overboard. Only about ten ponies remained.

"Marines!" Somerset called. "Launch hooks!"

Three heavy grappling hooks were brought out from below the deck and thrown onto the sloop, catching against the stern railing.

"Charge!" he shouted, leaping into the air. He landed on the deck of the sloop with an expert roll, drawing his flintlock and firing it at the first pony who caught his eye. The stallion dropped to the deck, gasping. As the marines made their way across the ropes, Somerset holstered his pistol and drew a sabre. Three crewmen charged at him, brandishing cutlasses.

"It'll take more than that to touch me!" Somerset shouted as he parried the first swing. He rolled to the side to avoid another attack, panting heavily. The three smugglers formed up to surround him. With a sly grin, Somerset let them get close before swinging his sabre around in a wide arc. Blood splattered onto the ground as one of the smugglers fell to the deck, bleeding. The other two just looked at their fallen crewmate for a moment before yelling and charging at Somerset.

He met their charge with a swift kick to the shin of one and a quick parry to the other. He rolled sideways once more, almost colliding with the railing on the side of the ship. There was a great bubbling from below deck; the two crewmembers looked at each other and then to Somerset before continuing their fight.

As the boat began to tilt sideways and slowly start to slip under the waves, Somerset made another swing with his sabre. He did little more than scratch one of the the smugglers, but it provided him with the opening he needed. Pushing off the rail, he tackled the stallion into the spiky remains of the mast. The stallion gurgled as the sharp wood penetrated his back, before lying limp. The last smuggler had a scared expression on his face. Somerset just walked up to him and put his sword to his neck.

"Surrender." he said. It wasn't a question, more of an order. The stallion dropped his cutlass and raised his hooves. Somerset grabbed him and handed him to one of the few marines still on the sloop.

"Take as much cargo as you can!" he shouted. "We'll need to bring it to Sunsport."

The marines disappeared below deck, resurfacing a few minutes later carrying unmarked wooden crates. One of them had an eerie red glow; Somerset watched closely as it was carried on one of the marines' backs up the ropes on the side of the ship and onto the deck. Making sure that everything he needed from the ship was had, he made his way back onto his own ship.

Crystals

The door was ajar. Twilight looked through the small hole between the door frame and the door as best she could, but she could only catch small glimpses of what was going on. Somerset was walking along the side of the ship, yelling something. There was a series of booms, and the side of the ship erupted into white smoke. When the smoke cleared, Somerset was gone and the sound of clashing metal rose from somewhere out of her view. She saw a number of stallions holding strange wood-and-metal rods that they would point at some unseen target. After a few seconds, a loud crack would ring out and the stallion would put some strange powder and a small metal ball into the front of the weapon.

After a few minutes, the sound died down, and all was quiet again. She noticed that one of the twelve ponies that had been holding those strange weapons was conspicuously missing, leaving a hole in their line. She spotted Somerset walking to the door just before he arrived; she had no time to see anything else before she ducked back further into the room.

"It's safe to come out whenever you desire, Miss." Somerset said through the door. "Just come and see me if you're going somewhere besides the main deck."

Within seconds, Twilight was out of the door and looking around. The mainmast's cloth covering was still removed; the 'cannons', she'd heard them called, were still rolled up to the side of the ship. She pondered for a moment if that was what'd made the sound and smoke, before noticing someone yelling at her.

"Hey!" a voice called out from the gundeck. She looked around for a second before spotting a stallion leaning against the mainmast. His forelegs were cuffed together, but he seemed to be fairly comfortable with his situation. His coat was a light blue, and his mane a much darker shade. He was an earth pony, but had a fairly weak-looking body. "What's a pretty mare like you doing stuck on a ship like this?" The stallion sniffed the air with his muzzle. "Man, does anyone ever clean this deck? It smells like month-old powder down here!"

Twilight quickly made her way down to the gundeck and walked over to the stallion, looking at him cautiously. He chuckled at her, rolling his yellow eyes. "I don't bite," he said after she hesitated for a second. As she approached, she felt something in the air. Something felt off; her horn was tingling. She slowly, carefully, came closer. As she got closer, she noticed little specks of red across his body.

She felt a sudden jolt of energy that almost threw her to the floor. The crystals in the stallion's fur began to glow. "What's going on?!" he asked. "What in the blazes are you doing? Stop that spell!"

Twilight looked at her own horn, only to notice it glowing very brightly. She almost saw thin wisps of red energy channeling into it, before she managed to retreat only a few steps. A deep bass boom echoed throughout the ship, and she was thrown against the back wall of the gundeck. She slowly made her way back upright, only to find herself being held by two ponies dressed in some sort of yellow uniform.

Somerset ran down to the gundeck, looking around. "What the hell happened?" He looked at Twilight. "What did you do?"

"Nothing, I swear. There was a stallion chained to the mast. He wanted to talk to me. I came close to him, and then my horn suddenly lit up and these wierd red crystals all over him started glowing. I could feel them trying to channel... something... into and out of me."

Somerset looked at her with an uncertain face. She could be trying to destroy the ship, but the same time the twitching stallion with the fur dotted with glowing red dots provided at least some credibility. He sighed heavily. "Alright. Somepony check if he's dead." A stallion walked over and placed his hoof on the captive's neck. When he felt a pulse on the unconscious body, he raised his hoof and nodded.

"He's alright."

"Good." Somerset turned around. "Now, I'll ignore the fact you didn't come and see me - after all, I know how you protected types can be a bit impulsive - and instead ask the more obvious question: Why in the Sun Goddess' name did you try to get up close and personal with a dangerous smuggler? I mean, from the fact he was tied to the mast, it should have been pretty obvious that he might not be the kind of pony to socialize with." He sighed again when he received no answer. "Alright. I need one of you to go tell the helmsman to change course. We're sailing straight for Sunsport."

Evening

That evening, the Eagle sailed west.

The sunset air on the open ocean was cool; the kind of temperature that's not quite warm, but not cold enough to be uncomfortable; a refreshing air. Salty sea air blew across the deck in a flowing breeze, carrying the scents of the sea west towards Sunsport. The cloth sails flapped in the wind, and the jibs pulled against their fastenings like a ship at its moorings in a gale.

The sea was calm and smooth as a sheet of ice. Only small ripples marred its flat surface, reflecting the sun that lay off its port bow. Bright specks of light reflected off the water as the bright light approached the surface, preparing to go under. Spray flew up in a constant, thin white vapor at the bow, and a miles-long wake of spreading waves followed the ship as it made its way to Eastedge proper. It was a steady voyage; the boat barely rocked, and it did not pitch at all in the almost nonexistent waves.

Somerset sat just behind the bowsprit, leaning forward against the rail. His weathered face looked westward, his expression conflicted. The horizon reflected in his eyes, a gradient of orange, blue, and black that met the sea far in the distance. He was alone out here; his crew were all busy either eating, chatting, or watching the horizon for ships, and none of them were anywhere close to the bow. Indeed, he was the only soul ahead of the foremast. He was dressed in his usual wear, and had a half-empty bottle of rum on the deck beside him. His spyglass was tucked into a pocket.

He was alerted by the sound of steps on wood behind him. He turned his head, only to see a purple unicorn approaching. She was dressed in what he could recognise as his spare clothes: a set of shirt and pants that were obviously too big for her and nearly dragged on the floor.

"What do you need, Ms. Sparkle?" Somerset asked in a genial tone. "If you're wondering, our captive has been secured in the hold."

"What are you doing by yourself out here?" she asked, leaning sideways on the rail to face him. "I mean, you already have a pony up there," she said, pointing to a small, railed platform near the top of the foremast. Sure enough, a stallion was sat up there, watching the horizon with a spyglass. "Unless there's some reason you want to avoid your crew."

Somerset looked at her with a slight air of annoyance. "If you must know, I'm just sitting with my thoughts. Preferably, alone."

"Well, what are you thinking about?"

"You wouldn't understand." He sighed again. "It's... very complicated."

"We have time, don't we?"

Somerset sighed. "If you want to talk about it, meet me in the cabin. And don't touch my drinks; I'm going to need them."

Twilight was left confused as the captain slowly turned around and began walking to the stern, carrying his bottle with him. He turned to look back at her for a second. "Well? You coming or not?"

"So, what do you want to know first?" Somerset and Twilight were seated across a small table from each other on wooden stools in the captain's cabin. The sky outside was darkening quickly, and all the light inside was provided by a few candles placed around the room. The door was closed and bolted, and the curtains on the side windows were drawn. The only external sounds were the creaking of the hull and the occasional muffled shout.

"Why is it 'very complicated'?" Twilight asked.

"Take off your pants." Somerset had a dead serious look on his face. Twilight complied wordlessly, curious as to why he was asking her to remove them if they'd seemed so important. He walked around the table and poked her cutie mark. "That is why it is complicated. Beyond the Queen of Eastedge - Goddess bless her - you are the only pony who has one."

"Really?" Twilight said incredulously. "I find that a bit hard to believe. How do you find your destiny without your Cutie Mark?"

Somerset chuckled. "Using the good ol' Mark 1 Brain."

"But wait. Why wouldn't you have one?"

Somerset shrugged. "According to the texts, only those who were chosen by the Goddess in the beginning of the world had one, and most of them were taken east of the Great Barrier during the migration. Those who didn't eventually rose to power, and supposedly have ruled the lands ever since."

Twilight looked at him incredulously. "Migration? Great Barrier? What are you talking about?"

Somerset lifted the first of many bottles to his lips. "Oh, this is going to be a long night."

Discourse

"I only know what I learned over the course of my travels with the navy," Somerset prefaced. "However, I do think that it should be enough, at least until you can find one of the more knowledgeable ponies in Sunsport or Royale.

"The most important part of understanding the Great Barrier and, indeed, many things here in Eastedge is the books of Equestria, in my opinion. It's a series of three books that lays down the foundations for most of our folklore, legends, and religion. They're called, in this order, Diaspora, Exodus, and Renaissance.

"Diaspora is, essentially, prehistory. Diaspora tells of the first ponies on this plane; how they propagated all across the world, building cities and empires; and how they were, inevitably, destroyed by their own sin. According to the book of Diaspora, civilization began a very long time ago in the valleys of Hiridah, somewhere far to the west. There, the first ponies were created by the images of Sun and Moon, and in their likeness they began to dominate the plane. They spread eastward until they inhabited most of the world; but the ponies of this time were a sinful and evil people, so Sun and Moon worked together to scorch and freeze the land until only a small group remained. This small group eventually repopulated the world, spreading goodness and peace instead of the evil and war they had before. They also created a church that, to this day, still goes strong: the Church of the Holy Trinity, named after the trinity of Earth, Moon, and Sun.

"Next comes Exodus. It is easily the longest book; it details how the earthly incarnation of the sun, a mystical alicorn called Solana, crossed the world from west to east, choosing ponies for her Day of Reckoning. Those who were chosen were given individual marks based on what talent or quality had made her choose them; thus, they became known as Marked. That includes you, by the way. Forty years after she'd originally moved from west to east, Solana came again to take all her ponies in an enormous flying Ark to the East, where she constructed the Great Barrier to keep those she hadn't chosen from tainting the pureness and goodness of the new land of Equestria.

"The third book, Renaissance, is the newest. Where Exodus and Diaspora were written upwards of three thousand years ago, Renaissance came around only about five hundred years in the past. Unlike Diaspora and Exodus, it talks of the future, not the past. Specifically, about the day that Solana will open up the Great Barrier after sending out her Prophet to tame all the lands of the West. I think you can see why, now, it might not be a good idea for you to flaunt that mark just yet; we wouldn't want ponies thinking that you are the prophet of the Goddess, after all.

"The Great Barrier itself lies to the east of here. You probably know about it; you've already been through it, since you came from Equestria. Essentially, it's a massive storm far to the east of Eastedge. I don't know much about the expeditions that've tried to pierce through it - that information isn't the kind that we captains get, in case we're sent out there - but suffice it to say that not a single expedition has broken through and returned. It's not like there's no return; there's just no conceivable way through. The storm slowly gets more and more intense as you go deeper, to the point where any ship large enough to survive the waves will have its sails and masts torn off by the wind, and any ship small enough to survive the wind will be destroyed by the waves. Honestly, it's a miracle you made it this far already."

Twilight interrupted. "Wait, why were you so close to the Great Barrier, then? If that storm was-"

"That storm we picked you out of was nowhere near the intensity of the Barrier." Somerset said with a level gaze. "Now, if you excuse me, I think that I've spent enough time on this question and answer section. We need to look sharp when we make port in Sunsport tomorrow." He got out of his chair, knocking over an empty bottle or two. "Any last questions?"

"What's Sunsport?" Twilight asked.

"A city. A city where I grew up, as a matter of fact," Somerset said. "Now, if you don't mind, I must retire to my quarters. I suggest you do the same." Somerset did a small bow, before turning around and heading towards a large bed. When Twilight looked around, confused as to where to go, he pointed to a small bunk, usually empty, taken from the crew's quarters the previous day.

Sleep came quickly to Twilight Sparkle as the ship tirelessly forged its way west.

Homeport

Sunsport was a fairly large city, constructed in a valley between two large mountain ranges. A river ran between the mountains, down to the sea; the city was built at the river's mouth. A long quay stretched for hundreds of feet along the city's waterfront, with many wooden piers; most were full with trade ships or small military vessels, and a few seventy-four gun ships of the line sat at anchor as well. They were all flying the Eastedge flag, which billowed gallantly in the breeze.

Behind the quay, the city truly began. The quay gave way to cobblestone streets, with lampposts on one side and buildings on the other. The streets were anything but empty; ponies of all sorts walked to and fro on the waterfront, from young fillies seeing the world from their mothers' backs to navy stallions sharing drinks as they ogled mares, from the strong dockworkers carrying carts of goods and supplies to the stealthy pickpockets, darting in and out of the crowd. It was a compilation of the best and worst of Eastedge society; the governor's cabinet cheerfully talked as they walked by a group of beggars. Behind the waterfront street, well-decorated buildings built of stone bricks and strong oak stood tall; shops, houses, and warehouses all overlooking the port and the sea beyond. A tavern stood, here, underneath a house; its door was wide open, and out stumbled a posse of drunken stallions, disappearing into the crowd as soon as they'd appeared. Behind the waterfront, the city became a sea of shingled roofs, sloping in a variety of directions or none at all. A thin layer of smoke hovered over the city from a massive number of chimneys, sending wood smoke flying high.

The governor's mansion sat on the mountains, overlooking the entire city and a decent part of the ocean. It was a large, colonial-style house, with large fancy windows in almost each room, a large window allowed the sunlight to flow in. There was a large bay window facing the East, such that it would fill the room with light during every sunrise. The building was painted a stark white, with a black roof. A pair of chimneys rose out of opposite sides of the house, and there was a small plaza with a flagpole in the front. A cobblestone road led through carefully-tended gardens, conveniently taking a turn right before hitting the servants' houses and going down the hill to meet up with one of the city's main roads. Occasionally, a stagecoach would climb the hill and the governor would step out for a second before heading into his mansion, but usually the road stayed empty.

It was into this port that the Eagle pulled in just before noon. Its masts lay with all sails furled as it was slowly berthed and moored, and the gangplank lowered for the crew. Ponies flooded off the boat, taking advantage of the small bit of shore leave they were provided. They wasted no time in visiting family, or going shopping, or, as the majority of the crews of ships that berthed in Sunsport, going to the tavern. There was, of course, a joyful gathering on the dock of ponies waiting to see their loved ones and families, and many crewmembers were reunited with their mothers, fathers, sisters, brothers, wives, et cetera.

Somerset was one of the last off the ship. He watched from the stern deck as his crew disembarked, before finally making his way down the gangplank. Making sure that his clothes were properly ordered, and that his golden-yellow overcoat wasn't too wrinkled, he stepped down the gangplank and took in a deep breath. He had, for once, a smile on his face. He looked down the quay; sure enough, there was a pair of mares, one young and one old, chatting excitedly to each other. He looked behind him quickly to make sure that Twilight was following him; then, he made his way to his family.

"If it isn't my old Somerset! You came back fer yer old ma!" the old mare said in a coarse, cracked, old voice. "It's been too long since you've visited, sonny!" she said with a stern look, before breaking into a fit of laughter. The two shared a brief hug, before the mare turned to look at Twilight. "Who's the purple?" she asked. "She don't look like one of yer crew."

Somerset coughed. "This is Twilight Sparkle," he said. "We found her drifting in a half-destroyed boat about a day out. She was coming from the East," he said. "Personally, I think she was probably so naive that she decided to try steal a boat from her hometown and make it beyond the Barrier." Twilight just waved awkwardly.

Before Somerset could say anything else, he was tackled to the ground in a massive hug. "You're back!" the mare shouted. "I knew you'd be back. You're too good to die to smugglers."

"Relax," Somerset said, trying to get his lungs to stop being crushed. "No need to worry. Smugglers and wayfarers aren't enough to kill me," he said. The pressure on him let up. "It's good to see you, Cross."

Cross was a young mare, about twenty years of age. She had a creme-white coat, like her brother, but had a yellowish mane. Her eyes were also of a deep blue, a trait she'd gained from her father. Her mane was short and well-washed, as was her tail; both were tied into neat little buns.

"So, how was the trip?" Cross asked as Somerset got back to his hooves.

"It was --"

"Oh, by the way, Ma's got some great food cooked up for you. Come! Bring your friend, too!"

Twilight looked at Somerset, but he just chuckled. "Alright. But if it's bean soup again-"

"Come on! Food doesn't wait for slowpokes!" She started walking down a street. After a moment of hesitation, Somerset and his mother started following her. Twilight trailed them all, looking in wonder at the city around her.

House

Somerset's family house was a quaint little two-story wooden house in the rear of the city, opposite the port. It was well-kept, with clean windows and polished furniture and floors, and with a small garden in the front full of various flowers. The lower floor was actually a shop; inside its windows were various potions and bottles. A small sign hung over the street in front of it; "Alchemist," with a picture of a mortar and pestle with swirls of smoke coming out of it. It wasn't a very busy store - few ponies came this far away from the port, and alchemical shops didn't tend to get many customers - but it was certainly busy enough to afford making the rooms above it into a great home.

At the moment, Somerset, Cross, and Twilight sat around a wooden table in the upper floor's main room. It was a simple, sturdy, rectangular table, with a leg at each corner and plenty of flat space to serve and eat meals. Somerset and Cross sat in chairs next to each other on one side of the table, while Twilight sat in a long bench on the opposite side. After a few seconds, Cross started the conversation.

"So, Twilight. Where ya from?" she asked with a curious smile.

Twilight didn't hesitate from responding. "Ponyville."

"Ponyville?" Cross asked, looking at her brother. "I've never heard of such a place."

Twilight sighed a happy sigh. "It was a great place to live. The weather was always nice, the ponies there were nice, the countryside looked beautiful." She looked down a bit. "My friends were all amazing ponies."

"Sounds like a great place to live," Cross said. "Why'd you leave?"

Twilight sighed. "It's... complicated."

Cross nodded understandingly. "Don't worry. We all have our complicated things. So, how'd you meet my brother here? You know, we've been trying to find him a marefrie-"

"That's enough, Cross," Somerset said, quieting down his sister. "I'm not in need of a marefriend. I'm already married to the sea." He flashed a slight grin. "But hey, how have things been going? I've been gone for all summer and most of fall; has anything changed around here?"

Cross' eyes lit up with excitement. "Some businessponies from out West came into town a few weeks ago. They said they were hiring workers to build a new factory in town. From what I heard, it'll be a gemstone refinery. They're going to make all sorts of things!"

"Really? Well, looks like Sunsport might become important again after all."

"Oooh! Ooh! Twilight! Have you heard?"

"Heard what?"

"There's rumors going around that somepony stole a glance of a Marked pony coming in on one of the ships! Can you believe it?!"

Twilight and Somerset looked at each other uncomfortably. "I haven't heard any rumors like that," Twilight said hesitantly.

"Aww. Well, it's still awesome, isn't it?" she asked.

Somerset chuckled awkwardly. "Yeah... I'm going to check up on Ma, see if the food's warmed up yet."

"Have fun!" Cross yelled as Somerset walked out of the room. She looked at Twilight expectantly for a few seconds after Somerset left, as if waiting for her to say something.

"I noticed you have an alchemy shop downstairs," Twilight said after a bit of hesitation. "What kinds of things are you making down there?"

"Mostly just poultices and minor potions. Things like productivity enhancers or aphrodisiacs." Cross shrugged. "It's something I learned from my ma. It keeps the house up and the food on the table, so it's good enough for me. Say, what did you do for a living?"

"I studied the magical arts," Twilight said. "I was, kinda, the most powerful unicorn around Ponyville."

"Oooh! What kinds of things did you learn? Can you shoot fireballs?"

"I learned a variety of things, but generally I learned illusion and transmutation, and a bit of defensive magic," she said. "I can do basic attack spells, though, like small lasers."

"That's sooo cool!" Cross said excitedly. "Can you show me one?"

"Sure." Twilight said. "Now, this one won't be that impressive since I don't have any regents, but watch."

The lights in the room seemed to artificially darken as Twilight's horn lit up. Small tendrils of magic began to reach from it, becoming like floating ribbons, all of different colors. Red, white, and green were mixed in with blue, purple, and orange. The magical streamers flew in circles around the center of the room, lighting up the walls where they passed. After about ten seconds, though, Twilight fell to the ground, clutching her horn.

"You okay?!" Cross said loudly, rushing over to the mare.

"What happened?" Somerset asked, looking out through the side of a doorframe. "Oh dear."

"Who's throwing things?" Ma said, walking out next to Somerset. "Aw, hell."

"What happened?"

"She was doing a magic trick for me, and she just kinda fell down!" Cross said.

"Good goin'. You killed her." Ma said in a flat voice.

Somerset sighed. "Let's drop her off in Samuel's room. He shouldn't be back for a few more days, right?"

Ma nodded.

Twilight felt herself being lifted up and carried off as her world faded to black.

Awaken

Twilight woke up, gasping. Her eyes flew open, and she looked around desperately. Upon seeing the stone and wood walls of the room she was in, she slowly calmed down. Her heart was still racing, but she slowly calmed down. She felt cold sweat roll down her body as she lay, sitting up, under thick cloth covers. She looked to her left; and to her right; but there was nothing. Nothing but the dark, yet warm interior of the room. She slowly got out of the bed, landing on her hooves with a slight wobble, and walked across the room. There was a small mirror in the corner, barely producing an image in the darkness. She took a quick look at herself.

Her mane was very disheveled, and hairs were sticking out of her tail. Her coat was unkempt, and her eyes were slightly faded. She sighed as she looked for a door to the room. Eventually finding one, she slowly opened it and walked into the main room she'd been about to dine in.

This room was much better-lit than the previous. Candles on the table provided great illumination, while the slowly-brightening air outside lit up the shadows with a slight blue tint. The furniture was mostly as it had been when she'd left; some of the chairs were moved slightly, and the table was now completely clean, but otherwise it seemed normal.

Twilight looked through the room and the open kitchen, before looking curiously at the main door outside. It was built into the side of the main room, and the only indication that it was different from any other door was a small window inlaid into it.

The sun hadn't risen by the time Twilight walked out. The sky was a slowly-brightening dark blue. From the small platform on the outside of the building, Twilight could see smoke already rising from some of the buildings as the city began to move into its daily life. Wooden planks creaked under her hooves as she leaned against the railing for a minute, before carefully making her way down the stairs.

She walked to the shop, peeking into the windows. She nodded sagely as she looked at the assortment of chemicals and potions that were on display; a strength serum, giving increased muscular power to whoever drank it; an aphrodisiac, quite blatantly labeled as being for unattractive stallions; even a household cleaning chemical that supposedly would clear out dirt and grime. She was so engrossed in looking at the selection that she didn't even notice the gasp. She only noticed when a pony walked up to her and put her hoof on her.

"Twilight?" Cross said with a worried tone. "You're not wearing any pants."

Twilight's eyes widened. She'd forgotten all about pants. "Oh, sor-"

"What's that mark." she said, not as a question but more as a statement. "Why do you have that?" she asked in a hushed tone, looking intently at Twilight.

It was all the purple unicorn could do to just stand there nervously.

Prophet

Cross hurried Twilight into the back of the shop. She walked over to the front, looking out to make sure nopony was coming in, before drawing the curtains and hanging up a sign that said 'Closed'. With the street sufficiently blocked from view, she walked back to the center of the room and took a small vial out from a display shelf. She tapped it with her magic, and it started glowing a bright orange. She put it down in the center of the room, and turned to face Twilight.

"Come here." Cross said. Twilight obliged, stopping a few feet in front of her. "Sit down." With a confused expression, Twilight obliged. "Now raise your hoof."

"What's going on?" Twilight asked with a hint of fear as Cross drew a small, sharp stiletto. She looked it over, letting the gleam catch her eye.

"Don't worry." Cross looked at Twilight. "This will only hurt a bit." She stepped forward. "Now, hold still."

Twilight felt surprisingly little pain when the stiletto pierced the skin on her hoof. She felt a small trickle of warm blood come out, though; an uncomfortable feeling.

"Right." Cross placed a small, empty vial underneath the flow, filling it about halfway with blood before removing it. Wordlessly, she put the vial away, before lighting her horn. Twilight could only watch as the cut on her hoof healed itself. Cross bore a small smile as she walked off, kicking the stiletto underneath a low-hanging cloth.

"What just happened?" Twilight asked, getting slowly to her hooves. She felt no pain in any hoof; it was almost as if the knife had never touched her.

Cross just smiled. "I just needed to take a bit of a sample," she said. "Come on. Clean yourself up a bit, and find something to cover yourself."

"What's going on?" Twilight asked.

"What else? You're Marked. I have to make sure it's real before I ship you off to the Governor."

"Do you have anything down here I can wear?"

"There's an old set of clothes in the back somewhere," Cross said across the room. "Shouldn't be too hard to find. Now hush! I need to focus."

As Twilight walked away, Cross looked closely at the vial of red liquid. Her horn sparked as she zapped it with a small spell. The liquid began to bubble, releasing a putrid vapor. She quickly capped the vial, allowing a reddish gas to fill it. The gas in the vial grew thicker and thicker until the entirety of its contents had disappeared into a red smoke. She opened it slightly, allowing a small amount of it to escape. It immediately started moving towards the east edge of the room, with great speed. It slammed against the wall, forming the faint outline of a series of letters. She allowed more to escape; then more, then more. Soon, there was almost no gas left in the vial. But, on the wall, in crisp, neat block-letter outline, was one word:

Equestria.

"Twilight, are you dressed?" Cross shouted hurriedly, running into the back of the shop. There was a wooden partition dividing the two halves of the shop, with the rear half generally being devoted to storage and the front half being for sales and display. There was a small arch in the middle of the partition that allowed easy access between the two parts. Cross barreled through the arch, skidding on the wood as she came to a stop. "We have to go right now." She quickly grabbed a pair of old cloth cloaks. "Here," she said, throwing one to Twilight. "So you don't freeze." She put the other one over her back, tying it around her neck.

Twilight just looked at her oddly, as if questioning her sanity, before shrugging. She finished pulling on an old, baggy pair of pants that were slightly too long for her before putting the cloak on and following Cross. Already, the white mare was almost out of the door; Twilight had to jog just to keep up with her walk. "Where are we going?"

"We're going to a group of ponies who'll take good care of you," she said. "Trust me. I know these ponies; I buy my goods from them. If there's anyone in Sunsport you can trust, it's the Scarlet Dawn."

Twilight gulped slightly as Cross led her down a mostly-deserted alleyway. The sun was just peaking over the sea, so while there was a bit of morning traffic the streets were not crowded in the least. This, of course, only served to make it easier for Cross to lead her through a series of twisting, turning alleys that seemed to appear spontaneously out of the sides of buildings and continue on in directions that Twilight swore should have hit a road by now.

Eventually, they came to a small door in the back of a building that looked quite similar to the other four dozen they'd passed. This one, however, Cross stopped at, knocking five times. The door opened a crack, and a sliver of a red face appeared.

"The Prophet has arrived," Cross said, putting her hoof on the door. The door shut, and the loud sound of a bolt being opened reverberated through the door. The door opened, revealing a dark room. Cross walked in without hesitation, and Twilight followed.

Janiss

"Janiss?" Cross called out. "Are you there? It's me, Cross."

A raspy voice echoed out from behind her. "Aye. Show me the Mark."

Cross walked over to Twilight. "Sorry about this." She pulled down Twilight's pants.

Twilight gulped loudly. She looked behind herself, only to notice a fairly normal-looking stallion with a dull red coat. He wore a black vest, and red-trimmed grey pants. He bowed down. "So, the legends are true. The Prophet's truly here."

Twilight looked awkwardly, before whispering to Cross. "Are you sure this is safe? I mean, I've been trusting of you so far, but..."

"Don't worry about it." Cross whispered back. "They might act a bit weird, but they're alright."

Twilight nodded, only slightly reassured.

The stallion rose to his hooves. "Pardon me, Prophet. I am Janiss, the Face of the Scarlet Dawn. It is truly, truly an honor to meet you." He extended a hoof.

Twilight gingerly shook it. The stallion smiled at her. "Come, this is no venue for such a momentous occasion. Let me take you to the Red Sun Chapel; you can meet the rest of our congregation, too." He nodded at Cross. "You can come, if you wish."

Cross nodded. "I would love to."

A light lit up inside the room. "Follow me," he said as he picked up a candle. He walked towards a large, carefully-carved stone door; inlaid into its surface, the words 'Laudem solem rubrum' above and 'Ave sanguine ortum' below a circular indent. He stuck his hoof into the indent, and turned it.

There was a deep rumbling; then, the door slowly started to come down, revealing a long stairway made of mossy stone steps. Twilight looked around with worry and curiosity, starting to have second thoughts. But, upon the prompting of Cross, she followed Janiss into the depths.

The staircase was long and dark. Tendrils of moss hung down from the ceiling, almost catching the candle's fire, while red banners hung on the walls, with a hollow sun made of gold embroidery. Dark stone bricks formed the walls, while the ceiling was raw stone supported by rotting wooden rafters. The floor was made of small, well-packed stone bricks. They were chipped and worn; their age showed quite explicitly as moss grew in the cracks. There were no lights inlaid into the walls; the only light at all was the light of Janiss' candle.

"Here we are," Janiss said after about five minutes of descending. "The Chapel of the Scarlet Dawn, built underneath the mountains of the isle." He turned to look at Cross. "This is a most holy place, created for only the Prophet and members of the Scarlet Dawn. It is a great privilege to be allowed down here. Do not make me regret inviting you."

They stood in front of a pair of large gilded wooden doors. Janiss waited a few seconds, before pushing the door open.

Water

The first thing Twilight noticed as the door opened was the lighting. Red crystals lined the walls, giving off an eerie glow. They doused the large, magnificently-painted stone walls in a dark crimson light, giving the entire room an aura of a twisted holiness. Twilight visibly gulped as she looked around; the mere existence of such a place made her slightly uneasy, not to mention the rather interesting images adorning the walls. Many of them featured copious amounts of blood and a red sun; others featured only one or the other. There was a prevailing theme of red throughout the entire structure, though; the carpets, and even most of the church members' robes, were a reddish cloth.

In the middle of this room, there was a canal. It was the only thing that wasn't painted red; instead whitish-blue light emanated from it, giving an almost otherworldly feeling. A number of small, highly-stylized wooden bridges crossed the canal; Twilight noticed that nopony even approached it except to go across.

Twilight hesitantly looked at Cross, who was standing next to her. "Let's go," she whispered worriedly. "Something's very off here."

Cross looked back at her. "I don't think we can," she said. "Remember the door? I'm not sure how to open it from the inside."

Twilight sighed. "Either way, I don't think we can trust these ponies. They don't seem very well-meaning."

Cross was about to reply when Janiss tapped Twilight on the shoulder. "Prophet, it is time for you to meet the Seer. He will have foretold your coming, of that I am certain; he will certainly love to know the Prophet is finally with us."

Twilight looked at Janiss nervously for a second, before sighing and speaking. "This is truly a wonderful church, Janiss, but I can't help but wonder if we'll be allowed to leave."

Janiss looked confused for a second, before his eyes opened in understanding. "Oh, of course. You wish to return to the surface. Do not worry; you will be returned as soon as you meet the Seer. But that is not first on our agenda; no, first we must treat you to the Sanguinem Ligare."

Twilight looked at him curiously, before he started walking towards the edge of the canal. "What's that?" she asked.

"Give me your hoof." Janiss said. Twilight reluctantly complied. She recoiled when he drew a very sharp-looking dagger, but two red-robed monks came to hold her in place. She started quietly pleading, wanting to avoid the pain but in one swift, fluid motion Janiss gave Twilight a long, deep cut on the fetlock. She cried out in pain, but was silenced by one of the monks. "In the name of our sins, we bleed." he said quietly, almost reverently. He then thrust her hoof into the water, much to her surprise; she let out a small yelp, but was quickly quieted by everpony looking in her direction. She suffered in silence for a few seconds, before her hoof was raised back out of the water. "And in the name of the Sun, we heal."

"Et dederit tibi civitates magnas Solana in sanguine filiorum tuorum. Bibe Solem, ita ut reditus benedicitur. Aurora grandinem Rubrum." He led the members in the chant, their voices echoing throughout the large hall. They repeated everything he said, including the final words of the ceremony, "Factum est."

Twilight looked at Cross with fear and pain in her eyes. Cross looked tense; as if cocked and ready to flee as soon as possible. But she'd realized that there was no way out until they were let out; a pair of heavyset, large stallion holding bayoneted muskets stood reverently on either side of the entryway, and there seemed to be no other way out.

Janiss turned to Twilight. "If you are ready, the Seer wishes to speak with you. I would recommend taking his offer, Prophet."

Twilight looked around nervously. She was definitely fearful; but, with a sigh, she lowered her head. There was only one escape, and that was by meeting this 'Seer'. She looked up at him.

"Take me to the Seer."

Blood

Twilight found herself being shoved through a small, dark corridor. She felt a sudden burst of cold air which nearly blew her off her feet. Strange sounds came from somewhere unseen, accompanied by the loud sound of flowing water. She felt her hooves hit cold stone, and heard the sound of the door behind her slamming shut. She gulped and began moving forward.

Her cuts, both from the shop and from the ritual, had long yet faded, but she still felt a dull pain in her foreleg. The onset of slight lightheadedness wasn't much of a good sign, either. She felt her injuries as she slowly walked around, carefully feeling each step. Each time she had to put her hoof down, she winced at the small burst of pain that accompanied it.

She'd been walking for about two minutes before she decided to call out. Her hello bounced off the walls, echoing loudly in what seemed like a massive chamber, but there was no reply. Twilight began to doubt if there was even a Seer; was she just thrown into a dark room so the Scarlet Dawn could be rid of her, only to take her out again whenever it suited their fancy? Suddenly, her every thought was tinged with worry. She felt a wave of exhaustion; she chalked it up to physical exertion, hoping it wasn't anything else.

Suddenly, a loud bass hum reverberated through the room. Twilight's ears shot up, and her eyes opened wide as she looked around. Out of somewhere, a blue glow began to shine. Soon, though, it was overtaken by a much brighter red glow that filled the entire chamber. Twilight squinted as her eyes, mostly-adjusted to the darkness, suddenly took in many times more light than they were expecting. At least, she thought, she could now look around.

The room seemed to be little more than a massive rectangular chamber built deep underground. The walls seemed to be made almost entirely of smooth, unpainted stone. The floor was much the same, but with a red line painted across and bisected by the canal. The canal on this side seemed to be a much darker liquid, almost black in the red light. It was crossed by only a single bridge; strips of cloth dwindled down from it, touching the liquid's surface.

"Solana oculo videre potuit ingredi." The words, accompanied by what almost sounded like an explosion, echoed out across the room. Twilight spotted a figure sitting on a large, unadorned chair on the opposite side of the room. Massive red crystals floated next to him, connected by red strokes of lightning to smaller crystals, built into the floor and walls around them. A single, massive crystal stuck out from the ceiling, providing most of the light in the room. It pulsed evenly, and produced a deep bass hum. "Speak, child," Twilight heard the figure say. "What bothers you?"

"Are you the seer?" Twilight said, drawing on her reserve of confidence.

"That I am, child. Of what importance are you?"

"I am Twilight Sparkle, the Prophet." Twilight felt odd saying that, almost unnatural. A shiver ran down her spine as a chilling laugh filled the air.

"That is a bold claim, child," the Seer said. "Now let us see if it is true."

Twilight watched the figure remove its hood. She could barely make out what was revealed, but one thing she noticed for certain was a piercing red light where one of its eyes should have been. It pointed directly at her, almost as if it was studying her. A small grunt escaped the figure.

"So it is true, then. The Prophet has graced us with her presence. I foresaw this day, but did not know it would come so soon." The figure stood. "I am Seer Renadeus Hols, third of my name and twenty-third Seer of the Scarlet Dawn. It is an honor, Prophet Sparkle." He bowed, his joints popping as he did so. "Come. Let us discourse closer.

Twilight hesitated uncomfortably, but felt an almost subconscious force making her move her legs forward. She crossed the bridge, noting the strange flow of the dark liquid - it almost looked slightly reddish - and stood on the steps to Renadeus' chair.

"Drink, Prophet, of the flow. Let the blood of the people, blessed by Solana, rejuvenate you as it does me. Let the life-water of Eastedge and all the world bring you long life, as it has to I. For the past two hundred and seven years, this flow has empowered me, given me life. Now, it will do the same for you."

Twilight found herself pushed by the same compulsion to the edge of the canal. Panic filled her mind as her head lowered and her mouth opened. She bent down and slowly began licking the flow. Metallic liquid washed over her tongue as she lapped at it, before finally putting her entire snout in and drinking wholly. She raised her head after a few seconds, red liquid dripping from her snout. Her mind had gone from uncertainty to fear to panic within the span of a few seconds, and she shook her snout, spitting out the remainder in revulsion. The figure laughed.

"How do you feel now, Prophet?" Renadeus asked. "Does the taste of blood appeal to you? It takes some time for a number of ponies to grow accustomed to it, but living down here in these chambres you will surely grow to love it... to seek it as I have." He showed a wide, toothy grin; sharp, white teeth tinged with red on the end shone brightly in the red light.

Twilight suddenly felt a burst of energy. The pain in her hoof was all but gone; she felt almost as if she'd just woken up from a very refreshing nap, perfectly fine. Renadeus watched her carefully, a small smile on his face. "We have awaited you for a long time, Prophet," he said. "But first..." He picked a small red crystal off the ground from next to him. "Take this." He tossed it at her.

Twilight's eyes went wide as the crystal flew straight at her. Her horn instantly brightened with a piercing whine; just before the crystal touched her head, a purple shockwave resonated throughout the building, a sphere exploding through the chamber. Twilight fell onto the floor, exhausted. The cold stone pressed against the side of her body, and she struggled to get up.

Renadeus stood up with a series of pops and walked down the stairs. He looked at Twilight as he did so, a sadistic grin slowly forming.

"Welcome home, Prophet."

Dossier

Somerset read over the newspaper as he sat in a coffeehouse. It was a well-decorated room on the bottom floor of a three-story structure, with large glass windows looking over the quay and white stone walls covered with paintings and some statues. There were a number of mahogany tables sat upon hard wooden floors, and in the back a barista sat behind a bar, cleaning cups and serving coffees while behind her, another worker was busy constantly brewing. Somerset sighed as he read the headlines. Another threat of war from the south; the Queen issuing another statement about how piracy was a blight on the oceans; the admiralty asking for money again. In other words, the same headlines as almost every day.

A pony tapped him on the shoulder. He turned around, and his face lit up in recognition as he saw who it was. "Hendrick! It's been a long time since I've seen you around here!"

Hendrick was a tall greenish-grey stallion. He wore a tricorn cap and a high-ranking naval uniform, and a pair of wings rested on his sides. A white mane poked out from underneath the hat, and his blue eyes looked at Somerset genially. "Indeed, my friend. Almost seven months, by my count."

"Yeah," Somerset said. "Anyway, what brings you here to Sunsport?"

Hendrick sighed. "Not anything good, unfortunately. The Queen's caught wind of some unsavory ponies making a home here in Sunsport. According to the Admiralty, they've been secretly dragging ponies off the streets and taking them to some sort of 'underground cultist temple.' You wouldn't know anything about that, would you?"

Somerset's ears perked. "Do you know what they're called?"

Hendrick pulled out a small dossier. "They call themselves the Scarlet Dawn." He sat down in a chair next to Somerset, handing him the dossier. "Rumor has it they've bought out the Governor and the entire guard, as well."

Somerset scanned over the dossier. His eyes widened as he came across a single line. "Oh, no."

"What?" Hendrick asked.

"I think my sister's been meeting with them," he said. "It says they've been dealing in alchemical supplies, right?'

Hendrick nodded. "It's surprisingly high-quality, but it's also quite expensive. Do you know where your sister might be going to meet with them?"

Somerset thought for a second. "I think I can lead you there. It's been a few weeks since she's taken me there, though."

Hendrick stood up. "I have a force of about sixty marines waiting on board the Valiant. If you can lead me there, we can bust this operation before anypony else is in danger."

Somerset looked at the ground for a second, before another realization struck him. "Wait... she and Twilight were gone this morning," he said to himself. "They must've gone there." He looked at Hendrick. "How fast can you mobilize?"

"As soon as you're ready to take us there. They're itching to get off the ship."

Somerset nodded. "Meet me at the corner of Woodstock and Seaside in ten minutes."

Hendrick merely nodded, picked up the dossier, and began briskly walking out of the shop and towards his ship. Somerset followed Hendrick out after about a minute, breathing in the cold air before making his way to the corner.

Fortuitous

Cross waited in the main room for Twilight. She sat against the wall, holding a small pebble in her magic and turning it in all directions. It reflected the red light with a dull sheen, occasionally shining directly into Cross' eye. She squinted as she turned it around, examining the smooth surface. She brought it closer to her eye and further away, watching it split into two images then reform into one.

She was bored, she knew she was trapped, and there was nothing she could do about it.

She sighed as she threw the pebble away, watching it clatter along the floor before coming to rest about fifeen feet ahead of her. She ran her hoof through her hair, straightening it, before slowly getting to her hooves. Janiss looked at her with an unreadable expression; she simply ignored him. She looked towards the ground. It was dusty, but completely flat where she sat. That essentially described the majority of the Scarlet Dawn's architecture: dusty, but completely -

She was broken away from her thoughts by a loud boom in the room directly behind her. She jumped away, turning midair to face the wall and almost falling over when she landed. She looked at the wall curiously, wondering what had happened. She thought she heard something screaming, but chalked it up to her imagination. Most of the other members of the Scarlet Dawn, however, were not so quick to dismiss things. At least two-thirds of the ponies in the room lined up in neat rows in front of the door to the other room. It was a fairly sizable slab of stone cut into the wall, about six feet on a side. It swung out on rusty hinges, supported on the bottom by small, squeaking wheels.

Janiss opened the door and disappeared into the darkness. He returned about thirty seconds later with a perfectly calm face. "The Seer does not wish to be disturbed at the moment." He turned to Cross. "His session with your friend will take longer than planned. You are free to leave at any time, as long as you promise to honor the code."

Cross nodded eagerly, excited at the chance to get out. For a moment, she completely forgot about Twilight. Just as she was about to exit the massive double doors under the watchful gaze of two massive ponies holding muskets, she turned to face Janiss. "The Seer is going to let Twilight go after everything's done, right?"

"Of course!" Janiss shouted. "Your friend will be returned to the surface unharmed."

With resignation and a bit of hesitation, Cross turned and walked up the dark steps.

"So, tell me. Did you ever catch that pirate brig?"

"The Rathouse? No, but we got pretty close. Severed one of her masts with the chasers, but we lost her in a squall about three months ago. She hasn't turned up since."

"Say, did you ever see any more action after the South Horn?"

"Yeah. They were considering turning the Valiant into a razee, but I guess they figured they had more use for a third-rate than an over-gunned fifth-rate. Honestly, I'm rather glad. They'd have cut my quarters off, that's almost certain."

Somerset chuckled. "So, any other reason you've come to Sunsport?"

Hendrick's expression instantly became rather steely. "I have some other business to conduct concerning you, but it'll have to wait until this operation is over."

Somerset and Hendrick talked as they and about twenty other ponies, armed with muskets and wearing navy-blue uniforms, marched through a series of alleyways. There were a number of intersections with two or three paths to take, and every time the group reached one Somerset would pause for a second before pointing the right direction. It was fairly slow progress, but it was progress nonetheless. Silently, Somerset cursed whoever designed Sunsport's roads; they must've decided that having huge amounts of thin, barely-paved roads connecting buildings to each other was a good idea.

Nonetheless, they made steady progress, and earned a number of praises and jeers from ponies as they walked by. Windows were opened above them, and ponies were shouting down - mostly cheering on the soldiers, but a few voices throwing slurs and general dissatisfaction. The sound of hooves hitting the cobblestone drowned out many of the voices, and a number more were drowned out by the sound of Hendrick yelling at his ponies during breaks in the conversation.

"Wait here." Somerset raised his hoof, and the column stopped. He advanced forward around a corner, checking to make sure he was going the right direction. He ducked back as he saw a white blur dart into his field of vision. "Something's coming! Ready your weapons!"

The soldiers formed up into three neat rows within seconds, covering the entire alley in their arc of fire and all aiming down the street. The air filled with clicks as the soldiers primed their muskets to fire, putting their hooves on the trigger buttons. The sound of a single set of hooves galloping became louder and louder as something approached.

Cross darted into the middle of the intersection, and almost had a heart attack when she saw the soldiers. She raised her hooves, but then noticed that Somerset was there.

The captain coughed unceremoniously. "Uh. Hi, Cross. What are you doing here?"

Cross walked up to Somerset. "What are these soldiers here for?"

Somerset put his hoof on Cross' head. "They're here to raid the Scarlet Dawn's underground base. Somepony tipped the Admiralty off about it, and they want it gone. Apparently, the Dawn's been kidnapping ponies and draining their blood."

Cross' face went pale, becoming even whiter than usual.

"What's wrong?" Somerset asked. "Have you seen Twilight?"

Cross gulped. "She's still down there."

Somerset looked at Hendrick, who just nodded. "Lead us there, as fast as you can."

As Cross took off, Hendrick yelled, "Break formation! Follow them as closely as you can! You can reform once you're down inside the building!'

Soon, the entire alley was filled with the sound of hoof on stone.

Breach

"This is the place?"

Cross nodded, panting. "I'd recognize it immediately."

Thirty soldiers - as well as Cross, Hendrick, and Somerset - stood in front of a small wooden door nestled in the side of an average building. They'd spent the better part of twenty minutes running through a number of confusing, angular alleyways that seemed to loop onto each other but somehow never did, and had been following Cross' sprint most of the way. Most were nearly exhausted of energy, but were able to return to at least usable states shortly. Hendrick nodded at the soldiers. They split into three groups of ten; one for each side of the door, and one to form a semi-circle around the breaching ponies with muskets bared, making sure no cultist reinforcements could make their way into the building.

"What kind of defenses do they have on this level?" Hendrick asked as he drew his pistol, making sure the shot and powder was loaded.

"Not much that I could see," Cross said. "Usually, I could only see what was around Janiss; he'd always come right up to the door, and we'd do our business either at the door or in the alleyway." She sighed. "Is there anything else I can do to help?"

Hendrick nodded to his troops. They readied their muskets and tensed up. "Somerset, give the girl your flintlock. She wants to help, so we may as well let her." Cross flinched as the pistol flew through the air with surprising speed, stopping just inches from her face. She sighed in relief as she took it in her magic and held it low, muzzle towards the ground.

Hendrick made another subtle nod. He then charged shoulder-first at the door, knocking it down with his sheer size and weight. A startled yelp sounded, quickly overpowered by the sound of a flintlock firing. White smoke filled the air as Hendrick quickly opened up another paper cartridge and, moving out of the way of the door, reloaded his pistol. A cultist lay in the center of the room, panicking as a few drops of blood fell out of a tiny cut on his leg.

"Hey! Get away from me! I'm not a bad guy! I haven't done anything wrong! I just do the accounting!" The cultist yelled from his spot on the ground, his voice betraying the fact he was grossly over-exaggerating the extent of his injury. "I'm going to lose a hoof because of you trigger-happy bastards!"

Somerset walked past the troops and into the building. He picked up the cultist in his magic, sweating from the effort. Cross walked up next to him. "Shut it," he said as he slowly, carefully showed his sabre resting in its sheath. "You're going to open the door for us."

The cultist gulped. "And if I refuse?"

Cross nodded to Hendrick.

"You will be summarily executed on-site for hindering soldiers in an important military operation. I suggest you comply."

The cultist gulped again. Sweat rolled down his face, pooling at the floor a few feet below. Finally, Somerset dropped him unceremoniously.

"Careful, man!" Hendrick said in a mocking tone. "You might damage the key."

The cultist got to his hooves and stood still for a few seconds, before being poked by a bayoneted musket. "Hurry up, cultist," one of the soldiers said. "We haven't got all morning." The cultist yelped again, before running to the door. He put his hoof in and closed his eyes, a look of deep concentration on his face. The door slowly began to open, and the cultist motioned for them to enter.

Somerset, Cross, and Hendrick were the first to go through. They were closely followed by most of the soldiers; another pair guarded the cultist to make sure he didn't escape. The sound of their hooves echoed throughout the stairway in the dim light of Somerset's horn. The stairway was clamped, claustrophobic, with so many ponies. The walls seemed to be closing in, and the ceiling seemed to be getting lower as they marched down. They soon reached the bottom, however, with only a few uncomfortable, sweating, cursing soldiers worse off for it. They all readied their muskets as Somerset walked up to the door, with Cross right behind.

Then, they kicked open the door. With battle cries and muskets high, the soldiers charged into the room.

Subterranean

Renadeus levitated another crystal out of the ground. He picked it up in his hoof, turning it every way to examine it. He held it up to the light, to see how it would refract. He threw it against the ground to make sure it was sturdy, and was pleased when it bounced right back into his hoof. As a final test, he licked it, tasting every bit of dirt and grime on its surface, and allowing some of the magical energies contained within to seep into his mouth. He nodded to himself with a smile on his face. Another perfect one.

In the corner of the room sat a small iron cage. It was a very simple cage; four walls made of vertical iron bars, spaced wide enough to see through but not wide enough to squeeze through, with a large door kept closed by a sturdy enchanted lock. Twilight Sparkle sat in the middle of the cage, looking at Renadeus with no expression. A thin layer of drool seeped out of her mouth, and her bloodshot red eyes had a slight glow. She tried to stand up; but a crystal laying on top of the cage gave her just enough of a shock to push her back down to the ground. Her red eyes flashed; she jumped against the side of the cage, panting. She looked around quickly, worriedly. There was no escape.

"Child, do you yet see the light of the Red Sun?" Renadeus threw the crystal into the air, zapping it with his horn so it stayed there. It began to shine brightly. "You are the Prophet, the Chosen One of Equestria." He zapped the crystal again. It let out a pulse of crimson energy that reverberated across the walls, shaking the room. "And yet, you are nothing." He threw the crystal at Twilight's cage with such force that it shattered across one of the bars, bending it. Twilight jumped back to try avoid as much of the power as she could, but red lightning still arced from the crystal, singing her hooves and coat. She cried out.

Renadeus just smiled; a sadistic, evil smile. He was enjoying this, that was for certain. Indeed, he hadn't had this much fun since-

Hendrick caught a blade with his own sabre as a cultist swung a large, rusting iron sword at his face. He looked to his left and right, trying to find a way to escape without taking a slice. Just as he was about to force the blade off his own and go for a stab, Somerset ran by with his sabre and, in one smooth motion, plunged it into the cultist's side, drew it out, and swung it around to parry another strike from behind. He nodded at Hendrick before pushing the blade off, and slicing.

Janiss looked at Somerset with an expression of hatred, occasionally stealing glances at Cross. "That damn traitor," he mumbled. "Never should have come here." He parried Somerset's strike as the two faced off. Somerset struck out with an offensive swing, his blade slicing the air next to Janiss' ear. Janiss ducked down, stabbing his blade up. Somerset jumped back as the sword cut through the outer layers of his clothes. Before Janiss could fully resume his posture, Somerset struck.

Janiss tried to dodge as best he could, but the blade nicked his side as he turned away. He yelped as he turned his hooves into Somerset's face and hit him with a mighty buck. Somerset went flying - right into Cross, who staggered but caught him. Before Somerset could do anything, Cross took her pistol and shot at Janiss.

The bullet missed Janiss himself, but ran straight into the side of Janiss' sword. The sword shook violently, jumping out of Janiss' hoof, as the bullet flew clean through it. But Janiss wouldn't be defeated so easily. A look of hatred morphing into disgust, he drew a small red dagger. "Solana, give me strength!" he shouted as he charged at Somerset.

The captain easily parried the cultist's strike, catching it with the flat of his sword and nearly pushing the dagger out of Janiss' grip. But Janiss twisted the dagger around and, with practiced finesse, tossed into his other hoof, where he quickly grabbed it and stabbed it into Somerset wherever he could.

Somerset felt his grip on the sword go weak as the dagger went right into his foreleg. He cried out in pain, clutching the weapon, but Janiss would have none of it. The cultist walked over to Somerset, kicking him mercilessly. At least, until Cross came in.

Without a word, Cross ran in, tackled Janiss, and put her flintlock to his head. Without even saying a word, she closed her eyes and pulled the trigger. Janiss disappeared in a cloud of white smoke. Cross quickly turned away, purposefully keeping the corpse of Janiss out of her view, before running over to Somerset. He'd already pulled out the dagger, and had taken off his outer coat and ripped off a piece to use as a covering. Cross ran up to his face with a worried expression.

"Why on the Goddess' green earth did you do that?" she asked him with half-worry, half-anger. "You almost got yourself killed!"

Somerset chuckled. "It's just a flesh wound," he said as he applied pressure. "Ahh." he said through his teeth as the pain hit him. "Yeah, I think I'll stay here with some of the other soldiers and guard the prisoners. You go on with Hendrick, find the Seer."

Cross nodded. She started to run, and with one last worried look at Somerset, ran off to find Hendrick. She found him escorting a pair of ponies carrying a large barrel of black powder towards the door to the Seer's chamber. The two soldiers sweated as they gently placed the box of explosive down at the door. Somerset just nodded at them, before looking to Cross.

"Oh! When'd you get here? Where's Somerset?"

"Resting," Cross said. "He got stabbed in the foreleg by..." she gulped. "Somepony I used to know."

Hendrick raised an eyebrow at that, but sighed and turned to the two demolitionists.

"Light it."

One of the ponies pulled out a match. He struck it against the side of the barrel, lighting it, before throwing it onto the top and diving for cover. About fifteen seconds later, a massive explosion covered the area in white smoke, heat, and wind. When the smoke cleared, the way into the Seer's chamber stood wide-open.

Dethroned

"Fan out," Hendrick whispered to his troops as they entered the dark room. "Cover as much area as you can, and watch out for traps. Can't know what kind of things will be hidden in here."

Cross followed closely behind him, holding Somerset's pistol tightly in her magical grip. She looked around in the darkness with ears perked; all she could see was blackness. The air was cold and heavy, and she could hear the muffled steps of all the ponies around her. Soft whispers floated through the air, and tension was prevalent throughout. The sound of flowing water echoed softly throughout; Cross made a point of sticking near it, so she could at least have some sort of location.

She bumped into something warm. She jumped back in shock, calming down once she realised it was just another soldier. He shot her an annoyed glance before raising his musket and slowly advancing, slowly sweeping it in front of him. Cross just watched as he disappeared back into the oppressive black darkness.

She suddenly heard a distant voice, a familiar one. She looked around, carefully raising the pistol and peering into the darkness. She squinted as she saw what looked to be the faintest of red glows coming from somewhere across the water. She began galloping down the side of the canal, looking for a way across.

Just as she spotted the side of what looked like a bridge, the red lights came on in a blinding fury. She covered her eyes instinctively, skidding to a stop on the hard stone floor. She lowered her hoof slightly, allowing herself a bit of vision. A single massive red crystal sat in the ceiling, providing most of the illumination, and other crystals were placed sparsely throughout. The entire room had an eerie feel, bathed in red with just enough darkness to give it a sort of bloody gothic feel. Cross uneasily held the pistol to her side as she looked around.

Then, she spotted Twilight. The purple mare looked to be in a horrible condition, even from this distance; her mane was frayed, and her coat seemed to be almost burnt through in some places. She had a very solemn, sad look to her face, and her eyes seemed to be drawn to the floor. Cross shivered at the sight.

"That's our target!" Hendrick called out, drawing his sword and pointing it towards Renadeus, who sat on his chair. "The old bastard on that chair!"

Renadeus just stood, nodding at the assembled soldiers. "You've come to meet me, have you?" He looked at them with disgust. "Bah. I was expecting you to send something a bit more... powerful. You seem like you've only got a small command of untrained peasants." Renadeus stamped his hoof, and a mostly-transparent chest-high wall of crystals surrounded his chair. "Let's make a deal," he said.

"I'll give you your precious 'Twilight' here - admit it, you only came because somepony who you consider important got taken - and you just leave."

Hendrick whispered to his troops. They all nodded. Then, without warning, every single one raised their muskets and pointed them at Renadeus. Seeing her opportunity, Twilight grabbed the crystal sphere that Renadeus had given her and - with as much strength as she could muster - threw it upwards. It flew up with some velocity towards the massive crystal in the ceiling.

"No!" Renadeus cried as he watched the small orb fly up. "You imbecile!" He quickly stamped his hoof to summon another sharp gem and shot it off towards Twilight's projectile; but not quickly enough.

The small orb went sailing up, up, and just barely poked against the surface of the gargantuan red crystal. But that was all it took. With a massive bass boom, the small orb exploded into a fiery inferno, smothering the entire surface of the crystal in a sea of flame and pressure. Renadeus breathed a sigh of relief as the crystal remained intact.

He looked back at the other ponies. "Now that that little-"

The crystal cracked. It was ever so slight of a crack, a hairline fracture, but it cracked. Renadeus' eyes went wide. "No..." he whispered to himself.

His eye began to flicker, and the lights in the room with it. He fell to his knees. "What have you done?!" he shouted, his voice weakening. Pure hatred seeped into his voice as his eyes locked on Twilight. "Twilight Sparkle..." he muttered to himself. "You cannot stop the red dawn." Suddenly, his body went limp.

"Move, move!" Hendrick shouted. "Grab the girl and let's go!' Soldiers began running out of the room as the crystal's flickers became more and more frequent. Another crack developed, and another. Cross ran in and leapt across the bridge towards Twilight, who simply sat with a dull, featureless expression. A single tear rolled down her cheek.

"Come on, Twilight! There's not going to be a second chance!" She pushed on the mare's back, but all Twilight did was shake a bit. Cross bit her lip, looking at the door. "There's not enough time for this," she thought as she picked Twilight up in her magic, struggling. Her forehead became covered in sweat as she slowly, carefully laid Twilight over her back. With fair certainty that she wouldn't fall down, Cross started running. The crystal became more and more cracked, and chunks began falling towards the ground and exploding. Cross looked behind her just in time to see a particularly massive chunk fall into the canal and blow it up, making a jet of red liquid spurt into the air. The room shuddered. A piece of the ceiling fell.

"There's no time left! Get over here now!" Hendrick waved Cross through the door as the room began to shake and crumble. The bridge collapsed. The other crystals all shattered at the same time. "Is that everyone?" he said as Cross ran through the door next to him, barely avoiding knocking Twilight against the walls. He started running just as the room began falling. With one final explosion, the connection between the rooms closed, and the room became sealed.

Aftermath

"What casualties did we suffer?" Hendrick asked a soldier as he stepped out into the street.

"Two soldiers were struck down in the fighting. There are a number of bruised ponies and broken bones, and Captain Somerset's been slightly injured. With the medical staff we have, the wounded should be back to combat-ready status quite soon."

Hendrick nodded. "And of the prisoners?"

"None of them have responded to any questioning yet. I'm sure they'll be much more compliant in the Royal Court."

Hendrick nodded again. "That's all I will need from you soldier. Dismissed. Report to the ship, then enjoy your leave."

The soldier nodded enthusiastically. "Thank you, sir."

Hendrick just smiled as the stallion galloped off.

There wasn't much activity inside the building at this point. The entrance to the underground hall had been boarded and sealed, and the owners of the building had been questioned and taken prisoner. It had been converted into a makeshift triage center, where the few wounded soldiers could easily be treated by their squad medic. Somerset sat in the corner, a white gauze over his wound. A small bit of red seeped through, but he still wore a rather jovial expression as he chatted with his sister, who sat next to him listening with rapt attention.

"Did you really make it through one of the Barrier squalls?" Cross asked. "Didn't you say they were impossible to survive?"

Somerset chuckled. "Well, I'm hear now, right? But, yes, we did get caught in one of the Barrier squalls when we were patrolling a bit too close." He smiled a cocky grin. "Almost tore the foremast off, but the Eagle's too good a mare for that."

Cross looked warmly at him. "So, what's next?" she asked.

Somerset stretched, his bones popping. He winced at the pain in his stab wound, having forgotten it was there. "Well, dearie, next is getting you to heal this wound already."

Cross shrugged indifferently. "You'd just go running back to the Eagle."

"Yes!" Somerset said. "And then I wouldn't be stuck in here!"

Cross nuzzled her brother. "Tell you what. If you promise to at least stop by home first to say goodbye to Ma, I'll do it."

Somerset sighed. "I promise," he said in the most deadpan voice he could muster. Cross hopped excitedly at this, bringing a small smile to his face. He raised his hoof and gently patted her head. Her horn lit up with a golden glow, and within seconds, the wound was closed. She undid the gauze, revealing bare - but healed - skin. Cross nodded, satisfied with her work. "Bet you don't have any healers onboard as good as I am, do you?"

Somerset stood up. "Right. Let's go meet Ma, shall we?"

Cross nodded enthusiastically... before being almost knocked over by somepony knocking into her.

"Hmm?" Twilight raised her head. Her eyes were very noticeably faded, her mane was frayed and dirty, and her coat was covered in brown and red markings. She looked like - and felt like - an utter mess. "Oh." she said unenthusiastically. "Good afternoon, Cross. Sorry for bumping into you."

"It's fine!" Cross said dismissively with a smile plastered onto her face. "You don't look very good today."

Twilight grunted. "I'll get out of your hair. I was just -"

"No, don't worry about it." Somerset stepped in and put a hoof over her shoulder. "You look like you could use a rest. Goddess knows what that monster did to you down there."

Cross butted in. "You should come back with us! I'm sure Ma wouldn't mind you staying over another night. Just try not to have another one of those episodes."

Twilight nodded slowly. "Thanks." she said flatly.

An awkward pause.

"So, do you want to go now, or..." Somerset said, his voice trailing off.

"Let's go." Cross affirmed. The two walked out the door and started making their way down the streets, Twilight following a few feet behind.

Sleep

Twilight walked slowly, sadly, down the road. Her head was low, and her ears drooped. The faintest hint of a red glow remained in her eyes, but other than that they were almost grey. Her mane was messy, unkempt, burnt; her coat was covered in black splotches of dust and charred hair. The sky seemed grey, and the sun was hidden by a massive bank of impenetrable clouds. A cold wind blew from the east. The street was empty; besides her and the wide-open cobbled streets, there was nothing. Identical buildings sat on one side, repeating endlessly, while a stretch of empty piers occupied the other. Massive waves bashed against the quay wall, shaking the island down to its core.

A small black speck landed on the ground in front of her. She ignored it, opting to continue walking forward. The waves grew in intensity. A red glow slowly began to replace the grey. Another black speck fell in front of her, then another. She felt her heartbeat begin to pick up as a thin layer of snow - no, not snow - began to cover the street. She dragged her hoof through it and brought it to her face. This was no snow; this was ash.

Twilight looked around in a panic. Her heart raced as she began to hear distant screams. Smoke rose from multiple buildings all over the city, and thick soot filled the air. She began galloping, not looking back, going wherever her hooves would take her -

She ran straight into Renadeus, who instantly stamped his hoof against the ground. Twilight found herself encased in a sphere of red crystals. Then, without warning, they all shot towards her. She prepared herself for the excruciating pain -

Apologize

"Wake up. Breakfast's ready." Somerset poked his head into the room. "If you take too long, there won't be any left."

Twilight jumped awake suddenly. She looked around in a panic, expecting the worst, but her breathing calmed when she saw that she was still in the bed in the house. She rubbed her eyes as she slowly rolled out of the bed and onto her hooves. The old floorboards creaked underneath her as she walked over to the small mirror on the wall. She slowly picked up a brush in her hoof and combed her mane down, spending a few minutes working on it until it was back to its normal style. Her mane and coat were both still slightly discolored in some spots, but it was far better than when the damages were fresh.

She took a deep breath and plastered the best smile she could muster on her face. It wasn't much - barely even above a straight face - but it was much better than when she'd first tried it. She made her way out of the room after putting on a fresh set of clothes, and walked towards the table. Cross, Ma, and Somerset were already there. Ma smiled at Twilight, Somerset motioned for her to take a seat, and Cross avoided her gaze. Twilight sat down at the chair and said a quiet, "Good morning."

"Mornin'."

"Good morning."

Cross looked up slowly. "Hi, Twilight."

Twilight ignored her, instead looking at the food on the table. There was a pile of freshly-baked strudels, still emanating warmth and still smelling wonderful. At each of the four positions on the table, there was a small, clean white plate and a small cup of steaming black coffee. Twilight sniffed the aroma, and the faintest hint of a smile crept onto her face. She turned to Ma.

"Thanks for this amazing-looking breakfast," she said.

Ma just nodded at Cross. "She's the one you should be thanking. She was up before dawn this morning getting ready to make this."

Twilight just looked at Cross. "Thanks." she said with a hint of ice in her voice.

Cross nodded. "You're welcome."

The table was quiet for a few seconds. Somerset coughed. "Well, the food's only getting colder. Let's eat."

The breakfast went by fairly quickly. The strudels were gone within minutes, and everypony had emptied their coffees not long after that. Ma got up as soon as she was done eating and, without a word, went outside to go open the store. Cross nodded and was about to follow her when Somerset put a hoof out to keep her down. She looked at him curiously.

Somerset addressed both Twilight and Cross. "You two need to talk," he said. "It's been a week, and you two have barely said anything to each other."

"What is there to say?" Twilight said. "She led me into a trap, and I've got nothing to say to her."

Somerset sighed. "At least let her apologize to you." He nudged Cross under the table.

"I'm sorry," Cross said, looking down. "I didn't think -"

"Of course you didn't think." Twilight said quietly.

"I didn't think there would be anything shady going on there," Cross said. "I mean, I'd only really ever seen Janiss before. He'd always take me out onto the street to do our business."

Twilight raised an eyebrow. "So why'd you decide it was a good idea to tell me I could trust them?"

"Because I thought they were trustworthy," Cross said. "They'd never done anything to harm me or anypony else as far as I'd known, so I thought that they were good ponies. I didn't know, but I betrayed your trust. I'm sorry."

Twilight sighed. "I almost thought of you as a friend. One of my first actual friends in a long time. But then you almost got me killed. I'd accept your apology, but I can't trust whether you'd do it again."

Cross' ears drooped. "I... I understand."

Somerset sighed. "I was hoping you two would make up," he said. "Yesterday evening, I got new orders. We're setting sail tomorrow for Archangel. Apparently, the Queen's caught wind of Twilight." He sighed. "The governor's going to be seeing us off, and I told him that you'd be coming with us," he said to Cross. "I mean, you did say yes when I asked if you wanted to come on my next trip to Archangel."

Twilight sighed. "She can come. Just don't let her shatter your trust like she did to me."

Cross put her head in her hooves and sighed.

Preparation

Now we are ready to head for the horn! Weigh hey, roll and go!

Song rose from the deck of the Eagle as sailors scurried above and below deck, preparing the ship for launch. Her hull was freshly-painted, with golden yellow above the waterline and thick black paint below, and the sails had all been refit and the rigging fixed; instead of old sails, dirtied and damaged from months at sea, the ship was equipped with new sheets of bleached white cloth. The ropes that stretched all across the ship had been tightened and many replaced; the masts and rigging were far more secure than they'd been since the ship had last set sail.

Twilight sat at the bow of the ship, looking out at the eastward ocean. The waves were painted with the cloudy grey of the sky above, and the wind blew hard against her back. One of her legs draped out over the water, while the other was firmly planted against the base of the bowsprit. She listened to the waves, to the singing of the sailors, to the ringing of the ship's bell, and she sighed.

Our boots and our clothes, boys, are all in the pawn, to be rollicking randy dandy oh!

Somerset sat at the desk in the cabin. A large old map lay across the table, depicting Eastedge in its entirety and a small part of the surrounding ocean. A line was carefully drawn from Sunsport, near the eastern edge of the map and around the middle vertically, to Archangel, which sat at the very northernmost point of land on the map, slightly west of the center. He had an abacus on the deck, and had ticked small marks along the route - where he was planning to be at noon of each day.

Heave a pawl, oh, heave away! Way, hey, roll an' go!

Cross sat in a small coffeehouse on the quay, looking at the Eagle. She'd decided she would only come aboard just before the Governor was giving his speech; she didn't want to deal with any undue drama. She had a cup of hot coffee on a table in front of her, and read a fairly new newspaper. She sighed when she read the first headline - 'Governor Confirms Reports of Prophet in Sunsport.' She put the paper down and instead took a look out the window.

A stallion came up behind her with a shy smile. He coughed, getting her attention, and asked if she'd like him to buy a drink. She shook her head, indicating her own coffee. The stallion looked dejected for a moment before turning around and making his way back to a table. Cross returned her gaze to the outside, lost in thought.

The anchor's on board and the cable's all stored,

"That's enough!" the boatswain yelled as another set of barrels of supplies and ammunition were lowered into the deck. Crewmen helped the pallet come down into the open center of the deck, before running to perform other duties. The boatswain signalled to the ponies that were manning the crane to leave their posts, before heading up to the stern deck to more effectively monitor the crew. He blew his whistle, calling the crew's attention. "The governor's going to be here in less than five minutes! Get yourselves presentable and be on your best behavior! I'll be handing out demotions to anyone who so much as steps out of line!"

To be rollicking randy dandy oh!

Sendoff

"Is everypony aboard?"

"The entire crew is onboard and accounted for. Ms. Sparkle is currently on the bow, and Ms. Cross has been in the stern cabin for the last fifteen minutes."

Somerset nodded to the boatswain. "Great. Have a runner tell the Governor we're ready to set off."

The boatswain bowed and turned to leave, but before he did he asked: "We will remain docked for the duration of the Governor's speech, yes?"

Somerset nodded, flicking him away with a hoof. The boatswain nodded again and started running down the deck. Somerset took a deep breath and looked around. He looked up the mainmast with nothing particular in mind, before shrugging and walking towards the cabin, walking down the steps towards the door with a dignified expression. He opened the door - and immediately closed it.

"I'm indecent!" Cross' voice shouted out from inside. Somerset leaned against the wall and began twiddling his hooves, occasionally peeking at the door. A loud battle rang through the wooden walls, accompanied by the sounds of Cross repeatedly jumping up and down. Somerset sighed as he looked out at the ship, before knocking on the door with a hoof.

"You ready yet?"

"Almost!" Cross replied through the door. "This dang thing doesn't want to fit correctly!"

Somerset sighed. "Well, hurry up! The governor's going to be here for his speech at any time, and you're supposed to be there!"

The door flew open, almost hitting Somerset. He jumped back just in time. "Whoa!" he yelled.

Cross walked out. Her golden hair flowed loosely, and over her cream-white coat she wore a simple and modest yellow dress. Her blue eyes sparkled, and she wore a set of fairly expensive earrings. She smiled expectantly. "So, how do I look?"

Somerset patted her head. "You look great. Head on up to the stern railing, and I'll be with you in a few minutes."

Cross nodded, walking off, as Somerset made his way into the room. He walked directly to the mirror and first neatened his hair with a small brush. He then washed his face and, once it had been sufficiently cleaned, walked over to his hat-rack. A trifecta of tricorn hats sat upon the rack; each one with a black body, but one with silver-colored trimming, one with gold-colored, and one with simple white. He opted for the gold-colored one, making sure it fit snugly over his head. His horn poked out through a hole in the front.

He walked out onto the deck and headed straight for the bow, where Twilight still sat. He walked up to her and with a small nudge got her attention. She turned to face him. "What?" she asked.

"The governor's going to be here soon," he said. "You need to freshen up quickly."

"The governor?" Twilight asked. "Sounds important."

"He runs Sunsport and the surrounding settlements," Somerset said. "In other words, he's probably the most important pony you'll meet until we reach Solstead."

Twilight sat motionless for a moment, before slowly getting up and heading to the back of the ship. Somerset followed closely. Where Twilight went into the cabin - presumably to wash up and make herself presentable - Somerset walked up the stairs to the stern deck and found Cross leaning against the railing, looking at the quay with a smile on her face.

"Are you excited?" Somerset asked as he took up a spot at the railing next to her.

"I'd be lying if I said I wasn't," Cross said with a small smile. "It's not often that we get to see the governor, and now he's actually going to be talking to us," she said.

Somerset nodded. "I'm just hoping that we don't get swarmed by ponies trying to steal a ride with the Prophet," Somerset confessed.

Down below, Twilight looked at herself in the mirror. Over the past few hours, much of her color had returned to her coat and eyes. Her mane, while a bit messy, was fixed with only a few seconds of combing. She looked down at her clothes - unwashed, but not quite dirty - and shrugged, deciding they were probably good enough. For good measure, though, she peeked into Somerset's wardrobe and picked out one of his fancier-looking coats. It was a bit awkwardly large across her body, but in her opinion it looked quite nice. She made her way out of the cabin and up to the stern deck.

"Come here, Twilight. I think it's about to start," Somerset said as he looked out at the quay from the stern. "Look, that's the governor's carriage."

A large, black stagecoach rolled up to the side of the quay, drawn by a team of four strong stallions. A door opened; out stepped an old-looking stallion with a curled white wig and a brown coat and dressed in quite fancy yellow and red garments. He was almost instantly surrounded by a group of random civilians who all wanted to hear what he had to say. 'This must be the governor,' Twilight thought to herself as she looked at the stallion. He turned to look at the ship for a moment before looking back at the crowd.

"Mares and gentlecolts," the governor began. He spoke with a loud, refined voice reeking of high society and rich culture. He cleared his throat. "Mares and gentlecolts, if I may have your attention please. Today, we are here to celebrate a momentous, once in a lifetime event. No, not once in a lifetime; it is unique. Across all generations of history, from the first founders of this wonderful Eastedge to our descendants a thousand years from now, we are the only ponies blessed by Solana with the presence of her Prophet." Cheers and applause erupted from the crowd.

"Unbeknownst to us, the Prophet, our savior, has been living with us in Sunsport for over a week. Specifically, she has been living in the dwelling of the good captain Somerset. She sailed from the west some time ago, crossing through the Great Barrier with little difficulty - as was predicted by the Great Prophecy of Solana's Return - and was rescued by the good Captain after her vessel was tragically destroyed in an unexpected squall.

"Today, the Prophet must unfortunately leave our presence. The great Queen Alana has requested her presence at the bright city Solstead, presumably to join in her just Royal Court. It is with great sadness in our hearts but mighty optimism that we bid the Prophet well on her journey west, and we hope to be blessed by your presence once more.

"If the Prophet would like to step forward, we now have a song to be sung in your honor courtesy of the Navy Seapony's Choir."

Somerset and Cross took a step back, leaving Twilight alone against the railing. The governor turned to look at an aide that stood next to him; the aide nodded.

A group of uniformed ponies stepped forward, forming a neat line. Another, dressed in the same uniform but holding a golden baton, stood in front of the line and, clearing his throat, began to count.

"One, two three...

"Joy to the world! The Prophet is come!

The Sun is again shining!

Let every pony see its bright light!

And all the world will sing!

And all the world will sing!

And all, and all the world will sing!"

Twilight had a small smile on her face as the choir sung, although she felt a minor uneasiness. For the first time since she'd arrived in Eastedge, she realized how big of a thing her heading through actually was. She managed to maintain the smile, if only for external appearances, but inside she felt something gnawing at her; an inborn feeling of unworthiness, almost like she was stealing these ponies' joy and grace.

The song went on for about two minutes. Once it was over, Twilight began to clop her hooves furiously together. "That was beautiful," she said loud enough so that the ponies could hear. They all seemed to immediately share a large grin before bowing. Suddenly, the entire quay erupted into applause.

"And with that, Prophet, we wish you well on your journey to Solstead and wherever else the winds may take you!"

The ship's bell rang, the sails were unfurled, and the Eagle was once more underway.

Sail

The Eagle cut through the waves as it sped away from Sunsport. Now, the jagged cliffs of southern Goldisle to the east were the only land to give them company; to the west, only ocean. The city had long since gone over the horizon. The winds blew strong from the north, tugging against the sails and pushing the ship forward so fast it almost leapt off the waves.

Cross stood at the bow of the ship, holding onto the railing. She was quite full of excitement; it'd been years since she'd set out to sea, and never for much longer than a day or two. Her hair blew gallantly in the breeze as she watched the sun reflect off the rippling water whenever it peeked through the grey clouds. Occasionally, she'd catch a facefull of spray, but she considered it a small price to pay for such an experience. She took in the smell of the salty sea air, the singing of the crewmen as they deftly worked the yards, the sight of the ocean, the taste of drops of brine that splashed into her mouth - and she felt truly, wonderfully, free.

Twilight, on the other hand, sat in the cabin with Somerset. The two of them looked over nautical charts; Somerset explaining things to her while Twilight simply watched.

"Why don't we just go north?" Twilight asked. "Isn't swinging around the southern side of the island going to take much longer? I mean, you said it'd take a day just to get into the open ocean," she said.

"If we go north, we'd have to sail twice the distance around Goldisle," Somerset said as he directed her attention to the chart. "Look. It's a bit long if we go this way, but it's almost five times as much going northward. And there's no ports to stop and resupply around the north of Goldisle, either; were we to hit a supply shortage or take damage, we'd have to either sail from the northern point of Goldisle southwest to Royale or continue on to Archangel and pray we survive. I'd rather go south around Goldisle and follow the coastline north than head straight northward and sail for a week and a half through a section of completely open ocean famous for its storms."

Twilight nodded. "So, in other words, you want to go around the south of Goldisle and head east from there because it's safer?"

"And faster, but yes."

Twilight nodded. "I think I'm understanding it now. Wouldn't it be faster, though, if we were to sail all the way south to Southsed? Is that even the name on the map there?"

Somerset nodded. "It would. But, if we did that, we'd run into all sorts of corsairs between Iron Refuge and Point Firebrand, as well as potentially find ourselves in a fleet engagement with ships from Eriwick. Neither of those are good. And besides, the order called for heading north to Archangel."

"I suppose. Plus, if we had the freedom to stop anywhere, it would make more sense to make port either at Red Rock or Royale, right?"

Somerset nodded again. "Now you're getting it." He leaned back. "Well, that's pretty much it for now," he said. "Feel free to go wherever."

Twilight nodded and stood, stretching her limbs, before heading to the door.

Channel

Around midmorning of the second day, the Eagle broke away from land. The southwest corner of Goldisle was comprised mainly of very smooth, serene beaches that quickly curved northward. leaving only wide-open ocean. The winds picked up speed without land in the way to block it, and the Eagle's already-speedy gait became much quicker. The sails did not flap in the wind; they were pulled so hard that they pulled their ropes taut instead, and only gave any relief when the wind would occasionally die down. The yards were turned quite a bit compared to the ship's keel, keeping the backs of the sails downwind. A few ropes waved wildly as the wind tugged at them.

"Come all ye young fellows that follow the sea,

To me, way hey, blow the man down

Now please pay attention and listen to me

Give me some time to blow the man down."

The quartermaster stood on a box in the center of the deck, singing loudly. The crewmates echoed his song as they worked. Those tasked with cleaning the deck swabbed in rhythm, while those tasked with working the sails simply sang. The sound of sailors working the bilge pump below deck echoed through the ship, as did the sound of ponies running across the deck.

Meanwhile, at the bow, spray flew into the air as the ship punched through a small wave. Twilight closed her eyes, allowing her face to be drenched by the cold seawater. She shook her head as she reopened her eyes, looking out at the ocean. She was dressed in the same old clothes as she had been before. She stood at the bow with an almost-smile on her face, looking out at the sea beyond. She felt free, as if she was back to just being a lone mare on a small boat with no goal besides the west. So much had happened in so little time, she thought to herself, that even those days felt like a lifetime ago.

She found herself a comfortable spot against the railing and laid down with her eyes to the sky. She watched the clouds slowly drift by above and listened to the sounds of the sea. The rocking motion of the ship calmed her, putting her at peace. White puffs drifted across the blue field of her vision as she relaxed with nothing to do.

That relaxation was broken when the boatswain's face came into her field of vision. He looked down at her with a slight frown on his face. "Ms. Sparkle?" he said with a stern voice. "Your display is tempting some of the other crew to follow your example when they should be working." Twilight took the hint and slowly got up to her hooves. "The captain has also been asking to see you whenever you have a moment," he said, before doing a quick, curt bow and returning to his other duties.

Twilight sighed, turning to look out at the ocean once more and watching the waves. After a few minutes, she turned around and made her way towards the stern. She pushed open the door and walked over to Somerset, who stood looking out of the stern.

"Twilight." he said, his voice oddly serious.

"Yes?"

"We'll be making port in Red Rock early tomorrow morning," he said as he turned to face her. "It's important that you don't leave the ship while we're there. We should only be there for a few hours, anyway, before we start making our way up the coast. But don't even set foot on the pier there; the ponies there are impoverished scum who'll steal anything - or anypony - that they can sell." Twilight nodded. "Good." Somerset was about to start heading for the deck when the door opened again. Cross walked in, dressed in a thick white blouse and a long brown skirt. She looked at Twilight and Somerset.

"Is this a bad time?"

Somerset shook his head before Twilight could speak. "Not at all. Come here, sit down."

Delinquent

"Ah, my boy! You're back! Do you have anything good for me?"

The colt walked into the room. It was a small, sturdy place, with walls carved out of red rock and a ceiling supported by a few rotting wooden beams. Torch sconces sat on the walls, providing a bit of light. A thin hole in the ceiling acted as a chimney, taking the smoke and soot to places elsewhere. A single planked, windowless wooden door was the only entrance or exit. There was a firepit in the corner, surrounded by large logs. A number of ponies sat upon these; the most prominent was a large stallion, covered in soot and grease but with a smile on his face.

The colt smirked, opening his saddlebag. A large amount of silver and gold cups, plates, and utensils fell onto the ground, accompanied by several dozen coins. "Snuck right in and out. He didn't suspect a thing."

"Wonderful!" the stallion said, standing up. "And do you have what I asked you to get?"

"Right here," the colt said, tossing a small scroll over to the stallion. "Some military ship's going to be coming into the dock soon," the colt said as he found a seat along the wall. "Supposed to be carrying something valuable."

The stallion turned his head to look at the colt. "And what, pray tell, may that be?"

The colt shrugged. "It must've slipped my mind," he said as a small smirk grew on his face. "Maybe, oh, a Sol would refresh my memory?"

The stallion grumbled, digging through his coat pockets until he found a large silver coin. "Take your damn money," he said, tossing it to the colt.

"Ah! I think I remember now," he said as he pocketed the coin. "It's something along the lines of, oh, the Prophet."

The stallion's face dropped. "Are you mad, boy?"

"And I have just the plan to catch 'im." He flashed a grin. "Come on. Let's go down to the pier. I'll show you there."

Underground

The colt looked to his left and right down the dark alleyway. Once he was sure nopony was looking, he leapt up and grabbed the edge of a low roof. He pulled himself up, his body scraping against the edge of the thatch, and stood up. He started running down the row of low roofs, his large clothes flapping as he did so. His long mane and tail billowed behind him as he leapt across alleyways and streets. The roof level rose by a story; he leapt up again and barely cleared the lowest corner of the roof. A few hundred meters ahead, the smoke and lights of central Red Rock lay.

The cavernous rocky roof above him was completely black. It was perpetually filled with smoke, the air at that altitude; soot and ashes simply floated up continually until they reached the very top of the ceiling, where they'd been collecting for years. A number of smokestacks poked out of the dimly-lit sea of roofs, belching thick black smoke that only met with the bottom of the continual cloud. Wooden pillars all over the city led into the inky blackness of the roof, illuminated by the lights below. In the walls of the city all around, houses were inlaid into the red rock.

Eventually, he reached the side of a particularly tall building. It was a cobblestone-sided, wood-framed, sturdy-looking tower, with a large clock on its face and a shingled roof. The stallion stopped for a second to look up at its entire height, before shrugging and running towards it before leaping up onto its side. He began to climb the tower, using anything he could as a hoofhold. He pulled himself up past a small ledge, using it as a hoofhold, before coming to the lip of the roof. He hoisted himself over and climbed to the top of the roof, coming to a rest next to the massive brass spike at the highest point. Here, at the highest point in the city, where there was nopony around, he closed his eyes and relaxed.

After a while, he reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a hard piece of bread. It wasn't much food, but to him it was more than enough for a midday meal. He scarfed it down in under a minute, before returning to his meditation. The smoke above billowed, dimly lit by the city, while below him he could see ponies moving through the streets, doing whatever. He simply watched them for a while, before groaning and getting to his hooves.

It was probably getting late, he reckoned, and he still had work to do. He looked down over the side of the building; seeing a conveniently-placed pile of hay, he leapt off the side of the building straight for it. He landed in the hay with a heavy thud, shaken but quite alright. He got to his hooves quickly, albeit with many stares, and began to nonchalantly walk away towards another city block. He heard running hooves behind him; turning around, he saw a pair of police-ponies galloping towards him. He gasped and his eyes went wide as he started sprinting down the street.

Pickpocket

The colt ran down the street into a crowded plaza. Gas lights illuminated the crowd as he pushed his way through, parting a sea of ponies. He took a quick peek behind him; the police were only getting closer. He ducked down to make himself as small as possible and took a sharp turn to the left, squeezing in between a pair of startled ponies. He kept moving until he came to the side of a sturdy brick building.

He looked quickly to the left and to the right, and behind himself. He saw the constables looking out over the crowd, trying to find him. Breathing a sigh of relief, he silently sunk into the crowd. With a small smile, he slowly trotted through the crowd of ponies, looking for the big targets; those whose pockets would be stuffed with coin. More often than not, they were the ones wearing well-pressed suits and walking with their noses turned up through the sea of rags.

One such pony walked right past the colt. With a complete poker face, he quietly reached his hoof into the upper-class mare's coat pocket and pulled out a silver watch on a long chain. He put it into his pocket with a smile, certain that she hadn't noticed it. Indeed, she continued to walk blissfully unaware. The stallion pulled out his new trophy and inspected it for a moment before putting it back.

It continued like this for over an hour. The colt would find somepony wealthy-looking, and they'd be rid of what money they had on them. It wasn't an honest job - thievery was anything but - but it allowed him to eat and pay his dues. He brushed past another pony, pulling out a fancy pocketbook and a bulging coinpurse, both of which went straight into his now much heavier pockets. Another wealthy-looking pony passed by shortly afterwards, who relinquished a small solid bar of gold to the poor colt. He simply tipped his hat and started back towards his hovel.

When he arrived, he quickly emptied everything out onto a small table. His house was nothing more than a small room at the end of a long hallway carved into the rock. The only lighting was provided by a candle that barely even made the opposite side of the room visible, and the only furniture was a table, a bed, and a single wooden chair. He sat down in the chair and started counting, his smile growing with every coin he captured.

Just as he was about to put them all into a bag to take them to the local pawn shop, he hard hoofsteps running in the hall. "He's in one of these filth-boxes!" he heard a high-pitched feminine voice screech. "I saw the little bastard with my own eyes! He stole my watch!"

The colt's eyes widened. He quickly put out the candle and hid the bag under the table, before hiding himself underneath the bed. His heartbeat slowed to a crawl and his breathing went silent as he waited for the police to come, lying on his side underneath a tiny bed in his small room.

Delinquents

"Alright, ye ugly marauders!" the old stallion said, rallying up a number of young colts. "Our good ol' friend Watcher's moving his sorry bum down to the docks at this moment, and he needs the lot of you to be there waiting for him." He looked over the group of colts in front of him. A ragtag band of misfits and outcasts, most orphans and all victims of the rise of industry. "Follow whatever he tells ya to do, but don't forget to bring your old pap some of the good stuff." He chuckled. "And by that, I mean money," he said, shaking his hoof in front of a colt's face. "Just so you're clear."

"Yes, father!" the colts all said in unison.

"Now go, you little delinquents!"

The colts all scampered out of the room, nearly climbing over one another as they rushed through the door. The stallion just leaned back and sighed, before looking over the massive pile of assorted coins and trinkets - everything from standard small-denomination copper to solid gold to necklaces made solely out of diamonds, and everything in between. He put on a pair of old reading glasses and started sorting through the pile. "Where was I?" he muttered under his breath. "Ooh, pretty." he said, quickly taking a small golden locket and putting it in a small box next to him. He was about to put something else away when a certain red gleam caught his eye. "What in the..." he said, looking at it more closely.

"Follow me, lads! I know the quickest way!"

"Oh, can it Wimble! Your sorry arse'll git us all lost again!"

"Ay!  That was once, you nimwit."

"Don't call me a nimwit, dumbarse!"

"Guys!" A third colt ran in between the two bantering older ones. "Aren't we s'posed to turn in here?" he said, pointing his hoof to an alley on the right.

"Good chap!" Wimble said, running to the right. "Rem, go 'round and make sure them constables don't get a track on us."

The second colt just sighed and turned around, running back past the group of colts running down the mostly-deserted edge alley. It was completely empty, he reckoned; there was only the sound of hooves behind him. From somewhere far-off ahead of him, an explosion rumbled. He thought nothing of it; just another industrial accident. He turned around and began following the rest of the group once more, sprinting desperately to catch up.

Watcher sighed as he leaned against a wooden pole next to the entrance to the dockyard, looking over a fairly empty, large plaza. There were a few market stalls, and a small number of ponies walked across, but he paid them no mind. He'd been set back a bit from when he planned to arrive here by having to wait for the police to go away, but he reckoned he was still on time. He checked one of his many stolen watches to be sure; indeed, while everypony else was supposed to have arrived by now, there was still almost five minutes before they'd be late. Sure enough, after only a bit of time, he heard the sound of hooves against cobblestone and looked up only to see a veritable mob of colts heading straight for him.

"Oi!" the one in the lead shouted to the colts behind him. "Stop, ya dirty bilge-rats!" The colts all seemed to skid to a stop in unison behind him as he slowed down, walking straight towards Watcher.

"Well, well, well. If 'taint ol' Wimble." Watcher cracked a small smile. "Late as usual, eh?"

"I ain't late!" Wimble said defensively. "We got 'ere right on time."

"Sure. Ay, where's Rem?"

"Comin'." Wimble said, looking out at the sea of colts. "Had 'im watch our back to see if any of them coppers 've been following us."

Watcher lowered his head. "Dammit. I need 'im 'ere yesterday. Ain't none of this'll work without 'im."

"Well, what d'ya need us to do 'til then?"

"Looks like you won't need to do anythin'," Watcher said as he looked up. "Here he comes now."

"Ay!" Rem trotted up to the group. "Miss me?"

Watcher nodded. "You've got the most important job 'ere. 'Sides me of course." He leaned in to Watcher. "You's going to grab the Prophet."

"Ay!" Rem said. "I'll get shot!"

Watcher smiled. "That'd be nice." His smile dropped. "You take some of them younger colts with you, use 'em as bait. All you's got to do is get 'er past this door," he said, gesturing at the door besides which they sat. "Get 'er through here, and we'll grab 'er and take here to ol' Pa. Gonna get us a nice bit of profit, eh?"

Rem smiled warily. "You's sure this is a good idea?"

"The best." Watcher nodded. "Right, that ship'll be coming in soon. Ain't no time to re-hearse." He looked at Wimble. "You's got a bag, right?"

Wimble slowly shook his head. "We needed one?"

"Ay, you idiot!" he said. "Whatever. We'll just have to keep her hidden under all the young ones, then."

Wimble was about to relax when, in the near distance, a ship's bell rang across the waves. "Ay! You's hear that?"

"Positions, ponies!" Watcher said, jogging to the ponies on the other side. "Rem, you sure you got this?" He was answered only with a nod. "Right. Let's get this over with."

Dockyard

Red Rock was, as its name suggests, a massive red rock, situated at a bend in the cliffs of Eastedge's eastern coast. It was a rust-colored monolith, a rotten egg on the face of the earth with white and yoke made of poverty and villainy. No vegetation grew on its barren surface; no life dared try to live upon the red stone. The only sign that anything around was alive was the plume of smoke coming out of the top of the building, which rose all the way up to the perpetual grey clouds above.

On top of the cliff next to the rock, there were a few small buildings. These were mainly huts and warehouses built of rotting wood and chipped stone, with broken or nonexistent windows and no smoke rising from their chimneys. Relics from a bygone era, they were already in the process of being reclaimed by the barren, dusty desert that surrounded the rock. A small number of cacti punched up out of the ground, struggling to stay alive in the toxic, polluted, mineral-poor soil of the desert, but besides that there was almost no life on the surface.

There was one, and only one, entrance to the city from the water: a small wooden pier that stuck out of the side of the rock and barely stayed above the waves at high tide. It was far sturdier than most of the city, for it was built upon a platform of strong, thick logs that were laid over with planks and then supported with smaller beams to ensure it could handle the stresses of wind and cargo. There was a small wooden building that stood on tall stilts over the water here, on a small offshoot of the pier: the harbormaster's office. Currently, its door was closed, and its owner and occupant could be seen drinking through the clear windows on the side.

The Eagle slowly bobbed up and down in the waves as it made its way to the harbor. The winds had been favorable for most of the voyage, indeed: it had arrived almost two hours early. At the moment, her white sails were mostly furled except for the jibs mounted from the foremast to the bowsprit and the square-shaped gaff sail on the sternmost mast, both of which provided just enough force for the ship to slowly, ponderously inch its way towards the docks like a curious turtle.

Twilight sat at the side of the stern, looking up at the massive rock. Her eyes were wide with wonder at the sheer scale of the structure; the only thing that came close back in Equestria was Canterlot, and even its magnificent white towers were at most half the size of this. She barely even noticed the shouts of the crewmen as her eyes were fixated on the top of the red monolith, watching the smoke being spewed out by the nascent industrial powerhouse.

"Remember: Don't set foot off the ship," Somerset said as he carefully worked the ship's wheel, lining her up perfectly with the side of the pier. "We'll only be here for three or four hours at the most, so don't take off." He leaned to the left to see around the mast. "Full stop!" he said as the ship began to come past the pier, moving about as fast as an exhausted snail. "Drop the anchors!"

The ship shuddered as the two massive iron pieces were hoisted over the railing, running out their chains until they hit the bottom of the fairly-deep water around the rock. The ship jolted slightly before coming to a complete stop. As soon as the ship was next to the pier, some of the crewmen leapt over the side and onto the wooden dock, carrying thick ropes with them that they placed around thick poles on the sides of the pier to keep the ship firmly held in position. It bumped against the dock slightly, but otherwise remained stable.

Somerset relinquished the helm and walked down to the main deck. "This is just a simple stop to resupply," he said as he passed in front of the crew, who were all lined up. "I do not want any of you leaving this ship, lest you be captured by the cretins and curs that dominate this bilge. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yessir!" rose from the crew in a loud chorus.

Somerset turned to the ship's marines, who already had their muskets shouldered and their bayonets socketed. "You four," he said, gesturing to a group of four on the end of the row. "Come with me. The rest of you, make sure nopony gets any ideas. I don't know if word's gotten out here what we're carrying, but I'd prefer to be safe than sorry." Somerset waited for a second, listening for a yessir, before rallying up his four musketeers.

They were standard Eastedge marines, equipped with long, silvery muskets with shining, deadly-sharp bayonets. Each wore a yellow coat and a fine cocked hat, as well as a tool belt and a pouch full of paper cartridges to be loaded into the musket. They all had a stoic expression, with grizzled faces and mouths drawn shut, and they all jogged to follow Somerset.

"Onwards!" he shouted as he pulled away, his crew in tow.

Taken

"Ay! One o'em is coming out!"

"Stay! Ain't no prophet. 's the damned Navy." Watcher poked his head around the corner, before pulling back. "Looks like one of them fancy captains and some of his lackeys. Let 'em go through."

The group of young colts stayed back as Somerset walked through the door, flanked by his small group of marines. He looked around for a second as his marines tensely gripped their muskets but the moment passed and they were on towards the deeper parts of the city.

"Right. Rem, you ready to draw 'er out?"

"You sure 'bout this, Watcher?"

"Absolute-ly positive." Watcher flashed a cocky grin. "I knows what's happening. I ain't called Watcher for nothing."

Rem coughed. "Right. sorry." He poked his head around the corner; nopony else was coming. He turned around to face the group of young colts, who were semi-hidden behind various pieces of scenery close to the door. "You lot, on me." he said, gesturing with a hoof. "We're gong to bait the Prophet right off 'er golden boat. Stay close, an' follow my lead."

Rem coughed, and began slowly shuffling towards the pier. He put the hood of his grey clothes over his head, obscuring his appearance as much as possible, and kept his head low. His hooves scraped against the floor, and every few steps he wracked himself with coughs, making them sound as loud and horrible as possible. He slowly walked out into the light, squinting from the sudden sun, and waited for all the colts to make themselves scarce hiding along the docks before approaching the side of the Eagle.

Sitting at anchor and moored to the dock, the Eagle was nonetheless active. There was work to be done; manifests to be updated; bilge to be pumped; disobedient sailors to be flogged. There were sails to mend; paint to to recoat; meals to cook. Most of the ship's crew was preoccupied with compressing all the maintenance the ship needed into a few hours; there was nopony who noticed the sick-seeming pony until he'd made his way all the way to the door to the stern and knocked loudly.

Twilight answered promptly, opening the door quickly. "Hello?" she asked, cocking her head. "Who are you?"

"Are you the Prophet, miss?" Rem said in a sick-sounding voice. He added a cough for effect and smiled inside as Twilight's face immediately became covered with worry.

"Are you okay?" she asked hurriedly. "What happened?"

Rem coughed again. "I ain't got much time left, Miss. I heard -"  he interrupted himself with another cough - "I heard you were comin' to our town, and I was - well, to tell the truth, Miss, I thought it was a miracle."

"Do you want to come inside?"

"Actually, Miss, I was hoping you could come with me," he said. "It ain't far, only a few blocks inside."

Twilight looked left and right before whispering into the colt's ear, "I'm not supposed to leave the ship," she said. "I don't really want to break the Captain's orders."

Rem lowered his head and sighed. "If you say so, Miss. I guess I'll just go back to my hole an' die." He turned around and began to walk when he felt Twilight's hoof on his shoulder. Another hiden smile.

"I'll come with you," Twilight said, looking cautiously to the left and right. "Nopony deserves to..." she gulped. "To die alone."

Rem turned around and with a sad smile that was barely visible under his hood, shook Twilight's hoof. "Thank you, Miss. 'Tain't far, I promise."

"Lead the way!" Twilight chuckled nervously.

Rem slowly shuffled back towards the dock. Much more of the crew's attention was on him now, as he was being closely followed by Twilight. She was stopped a few feet away from the dock by the quartermaster.

"With all due respect, ma'am," he began, "what you're about to do is complete lunacy. This, with all due concern, is a trap. He's obviously baiting you onto the docks so you can be captured and taken away to some cell to be sold on the markets."

Twilight leaned over. "I doubt it is, but..." she looked left and right. "Don't tell the captain I said this, but I want some adventure. I've been cooped up in this ship for days and the first time anything exciting crops up, I'm told to stay on the ship even longer."

The quartermaster nodded sagely. "I understand. I won't questin your decision, but know that our cannons and muskets are ready should anything happen."

Twilight looked to the colt, who waited expectantly. She walked over and picked him up with her hooves, lifting him over the side of the ship and placing him down onto the pier's planks. He began leading her down the dock wordlessly, shuffling his hooves against the ground and keeping his head lowered. He passed a fairly conspicuous stack of crates on the pier's side, taking a quick look at it and a nod. A few secons later, a yell erupted from behind the crates as no fewer than fifteen young colts, each dressed in dirty, soot-covered jackets, shirts, and pants swarmed from behind the crate.

Twilight looked to Rem with a look of expectant disappointment on her face. He just looked back at her with an amused expression on his face. "I cain't believe you actually fell for that," he guffawed. "Take 'er!"

At once, they all leapt over to her, trying their best to keep her down. She was able to keep them off of her at first, shaking wildly to prevent them getting a grip and pushing off those that did with a foreleg, but as she tried to make a break for the ship and its relative safety, she found herself tripped and falling to the deck. Before she could even get onto her hooves, she was being lifted up and carried away. She thrashed violently, but it was no use; she was taken.

Boat

It was a beautiful day in the middle of the ocean. The sun had just risen, and the sky was still painted with orange and blue hues. The blazing orb itself was only a few degrees above the distant horizon, high enough to provide plenty of light but still low enough to paint the horizon like an artist's masterpiece. A number of clouds slowly drifted high above the ocean, aimlessly wadering with the high-altitude winds.

The sea itself was fairly calm. Small waves slowly moved across the blue plain like ripples of sand across a desert, and occasionally a white-capped rise would pass. The water was various shades of blue and green, mixing, matching, and blending with one another into an oceanic canvas, stretching on for miles beyond the horizon. Algae floated on the surface, and the silvery bodies of fish darted around in the waters below. A moderate breeze blew across the sea, bringing with it the cold air of the North.

A small boat floated, alone, on the ocean. It was a single brown speck in a vast sea; a mote of dust on the back of an enormous whale, slowly moving wherever the winds would take it. It was of a sturdy wooden construction, the kind that can only be achieved by someone who has spent much time training and practicing the art of shipbuilding, and who knows all the techniques and tools necessary to creat a strong, speedy, safe vessel. It was a dhow-rigged vessel with a single sail, square to the ship's keel, held on a tilted horizontal boom. A number of ropes secured the sail and beam to the boat's hull, and a second set kept the mast firmly in place. The beam and mast were both made of single logs, perfectly sized and tailored for their use and taken from a batch of strong teak trees. The boat's deck was made of much the same wood, made into planks that ran across the beam of the ship, square to the keel, from left to right. They were cut to just the perfect size to fit the vessel, and near the bow there was a small square of planks, about a foot on a side, that could be lifted to provide access to the area of the hull underneath the deck.

The vessel was unpainted, keeping entirely its original wooden coloration. It had a dark cherry hull, giving it a natural, earthlike color, while its deck and mast were both comprised of a much lighter teak. The hull's planks ran up and down the boat's length, coming to a rounded point in the front and ending in a U-shaped stern. Here, the planks were laid horizontally, filling the entire space left by the side planks. It was on the stern planks that the only manufacturer-placed markings on the entire vessel were placed; a bit of gold-colored text, standing out quite explicitly from the rest of the vessel.

"Twilight Sparkle."

Dolphin

The sun was high in the sky. It was about noon. The dhow, still entirely alone, slowly made its way southwest, following the rising wind's inexorable push. A long white wake lay behind it as it cruised along at almost fifteen knots, pushed quickly forward by the pull of its large, strong sail. Its rudder made minor adjustments to the left and right as it continued moving, doing its best to keep the dhow on the right route.

Twilight Sparkle sat in her spot in the stern of the boat, holding the tiller with one forehoof and leaning the other into the water behind her wooden boat. There was not much to do in the middle of the ocean; all she could see for miles around was water and waves. In the very far distance, she saw a spout of water from a surfacing whale.

She almost smiled at the distant shining sight of the whale as it jumped out of the water before diving back down into the depths. Just as she was about to break a small smile, she felt a sudden wave of sadness; her expression instantly dimmed and she looked back down at the waters and the wood with a look of abject boredom and hopelessness.

A small fin breached the water next to her. Inquisitively, she looked at it. Just as she was about to reach out and try to touch it with her hoof, it dove down then leapt out of the water next to her. It was a dolphin, one that'd likely been following her for miles. Its smooth, grey skin rippled as it leapt up and down out of the water. A pair of small black eyes gave it vision as its long, bottle-like nose poked out of the front of its face. It seemed to almost be looking at her with a smile, almost saying "I'm your friend!" It was a dolphin that looked, indeed, very happy to be alive. With reckless enthusiasm it leapt up and down alongside the boat, occasionally diving down for a second before popping back up on the opposite side of the boat. It carried with it an air of happiness, of excitement, of joy just at being alive. Good feelings; the feelings of a simple, content creature.

Before Twilight knew it, a second dolphin had appeared, seemingly out of nowhere. It hopped on the opposite side of the boat from the first, and had a sort of natural synchronization with its companion. Whenever one dolphin would hit the water and go under, the other would burst out of the waves, arc through the air, and land in the sea just as the first resurfaced.  They seemed to chatter to each other as they jumped, excitedly babbling about in the songs that only dolphins know and that are made only for dolphins to understand. The air practically radiated a warm, happy aura as the two playful creatures hopped along, on either side of the small dhow, without a care in the world.

And, for the first time in what seemed like months, Twilight Sparkle smiled.

Chase

"Set full sail! Ready the bow-chasers! Load chain shot!"

Somerset yelled at his crew as he walked along the ship's side. The ship's mainsails and topgallants came out, and it began to accelerate. It flew along the waves, its figurehead being doused by a constant cloud of spray. It hunted the fleeing smuggler sloop like an eagle chasing a rabbit. Gunports all along its sides opened, revealing glistening twelve-pounder guns, already loaded with round shot, ready to tear open the hull of their target. The canvass covering of the central deck was removed and a set of nine-pounder guns were lifted out of the hole and rolled to the railing. They, too, were loaded with powder and cannonballs.

The sloop was a small target. It had only one mast with a gaff mainsail, square-shaped and held by two booms along the keel of the ship, and a jib that stretched from the top of the mast to the front of the hull. It had a set of four small six-pounder cannons that were loaded by its crew, but they knew it was painfully obvious that if they were caught by the frigate they would have no escape. Even at full sail, though, it was too slow to escape the frigate.

The front of the Eagle became drenched in white smoke as one of the nine-pounder bow-chasers fired a shot into the water next to the sloop, trying to get it to surrender. When the sloop failed to surrender, the other bow-chaser fired; this time, it tore through the jib, snapping the rope and causing the sail to fall uselessly to the deck. Its crewmen didn't give up, however. They turned into the wind, taking advantage of their remaining sail to run closer to the wind.

The Eagle approached the crippled sloop like a lion chasing a wounded gazelle. Somerset stood on the bow of the deck, his clothing waving in the breeze. He raised his spyglass to his eye in a whitish glow, spotting the sloop. Its crew were desperately running back and forth, and one was trying to tie the severed rope back together with little success. He spotted one of the cannons taking aim, and focused in on it just in time to see a small cannonball fly from the gun and splash into the water just off the ship's side. With a sour expression on his face, he turned to the gun crews of the chasers just in time to hear them report, "Guns reloaded." Somerset had a small grin on his face as he ordered another round of chain shot fired. This time, the mast was split in half, with the top half dejectedly falling into the water, taking the sail with it.

"Marines, prepare to board!" he shouted as he began running back to the stern deck to command his ship. "Helmsman, bring us alongside. Let's see what treats these smugglers are trying to sneak by."

"Aye, cap'n."

The Eagle came alongside the ship, and the twelve marines on board readied their muskets as they prepared to board...

Run

Twilight ran. Images of fire and smoke were still fresh in her mind as she sprinted through the Everfree, leaping over boulders and logs. Tears streamed from her face. She was covered in dirt, grime, and soot, and half her tail was burnt off. She didn't dare look back; she couldn't bring herself to.

She ran for hours before she finally collapsed from exhaustion. Her eyes went wide as she tried to push herself up, but couldn't; her legs had gone on strike. She groaned and grunted, but only managed to move herself forward about an inch. She gave up soon after, lying on her side on the forest floor.

Bird calls rose from around her, strange calls she'd never heard before. It was only lying here, unable to move, that she realized how far she'd run; she was probably a few miles deep in the forest already. She looked helplessly around, trying to see what birds were making the sounds, but to no avail. She was stuck, alone, in the dark woods.

After about an hour, the bird calls suddenly stopped. She looked around again, this time more in fear than curiosity. A loud howling came from far off, followed by a loud creaking of wooden joints that sounded a good bit closer. She gulped, trying to make herself as small as possible. A pair of glowing green eyes poked out of the brush; then another, and another. She was trembling as three massive timberwolves came out of the bushes, walking towards her. She resigned herself to her own death, waiting expectantly...

...only to be blinded by a flash of gold.

Mission

Renadeus looked at the blast with disgust. He slowly began to heat, simmer, burn with rage. His eyes glowed a bright red, and his skin contorted unnaturally. He slowly turned back to look at Twilight, who was still cowering in the corner, covered with burns. A small smile twisted its way onto his face of rage.

"Prophet. Go on and greet our guests nicely," he said. The lights in the room dimmed, before cutting out completely. "And give them my regards." He stomped his hoof against the ground, producing another red crystal. This one was unusually dull, and was shaped almost perfectly spherical. "When you reach them," he said in hushed tones, "touch this against their skin. Then, only then, will you be safe from their lies."

Twilight shook her head. "I won't do it. I won't." She looked at Renadeus with a look of almost hatred. "You can force me into a cage, you can shock me and poke me and beat me, but I'll never fall to your level. I'll never kill another pony."

Renadeus laughed. It was a long, hearty, chastising laugh, and his head rolled back as his chest heaved. "Oh, young Prophet. You truly are naive, aren't you?" He suddenly stopped laughing and looked her in the eye. "You will do what I ask of you. They will not die, I promise you that. But if you do not do this, then they certainly will." He generated another crystal. This one was sharpened to an impossibly fine point, and seemed to be perfectly shaped for penetrating into things. It was bright red, and positively radiated with energy. He picked it up in his hoof, a slight tingling sensation manifesting as he did so.

"I would hate to do that, you know," Renadeus said as he held the sharp crystal, occasionally switching it from hoof to hoof. He stamped his free hoof against the ground. "Don't make me do things I hate. Now, Prophet. Their fate rests with you, you know."

The door to the cage opened, and the lights came back on.

Cabin

"Come inside, sit down," Somerset said, taking a seat in the chair at his desk. "Twilight, you too."

Cross walked into the room with a slight smile on her face. She looked at twilight, who merely regarded her with a wary glance, and sat down. She looked at Somerset, who looked back at her.

"So, what did you want to talk about?" he said, taking a comfortable position in the chair and looking at her candidly.

"Well, where to start. First, the quartermaster asked you to find him the crew manifest whenever you have spare time," she said, looking at her hoof as she tried to remember what she was going to say. "Then, there's the one pony who said that some of the crew were plotting to jump ship in Red Rock," she continued.

Somerset sighed. "Typical. They join the Navy and can't stay for more than a week or two. Anything else?"

"Oh!" Cross said. "Twilight. I was planning to go into the city at Red Rock and buy some stuff," she said, turning to look at the purple mare who leaned against the door. "Do you wanna come sometime tomorrow?"

Before Twilight could reply, Somerset shook his head. "She's not leaving the ship, and you aren't either. You can do your shopping once we got a port that's actually got a police presence, but I don't want anypony more than the bare minimum risking themselves by going into Red Rock," he said. "Plus, there's nothing good to buy there. Trust me, I'd know."

Cross sighed. "Fine. By the way, are we going to stop by Dad's family?"

Somerset looked at her with a stern expression. "When we get there."

Cross took the hint, looking at her hooves. After about a minute, she looked up. "Twilight? Come here for a second."

The purple mare walked over to Cross with an apathetic expression. "What?" she asked. She gasped as she felt herself being grabbed, looking around in a mild panic before calming down. She wasn't being grabbed; she was being hugged.

"I'm sorry," Cross said with her muzzle in Twilight's shoulder. "You've looked so sad these days, and it's all my fault. I never should have -"

Twilight tried to make a small smile. "It isn't your fault," she said. "You did nothing wrong. You just didn't know who those ponies actually were. No, it isn't your fault. It's mine, for not forgiving you sooner."

Cross looked up at Twilight with a smile on her face. "So, are we friends again?" Cross asked.

Twilight tensed up. She gulped. "If you want to be friends..." she said. Images of fire and smoke flashed in her mind, but she shook her head to banish them away. "Sure." she said with a slight smile on her face.

But in the back of her mind, a sense of foreboding gnawed at her inside.