The Chronicles of Captain Cebrastian

by Crindorada

Rating: everyone
Tags: Comedy, Slice of Life, Zebra, Alternate Universe, Original Character, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic
Length: 21652

Once upon a time there lived an earth-pony colt, so bored with his life in a provincial port, that he was ready to flee away with anypony. Even with a pirate crew of zebras...

"Have you heard the latest news? They say, captain Cebrastian is heading to Hoofre! He has some... business here!"
A straw-colored earth-pony colt raised his ears and listened carefully. His monotonous life of a fishing earth-pony was so dull, that he was ready to escape with anypony, even be it a Zebrican pirate. Tales about captain Cebrastian and his daring zebras were fantastic and it sounded too good to be true that this great pirate did an honor to plain port of Hoofre and decided to pay them a visit...

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Translation from the Russian language. Made by author.
So, the author is Russian, any comments and help is appreciated.

Published 2017-05-29 15:20:01 UTC
Last updated 2019-08-14 21:23:10 UTC

Chapter 1. Goodbye, Hoofre

A two-mast tall-ship was carefully tiptoeing its way to the quay berth. Anyone with a practiced eye could identify a rakish schooner from a unicorn’s ship yard. The black and white striped flag, though, as well as the figurehead of a striped manticore, immobilized in its long leap, stated the real owners of the ship quickly, much quicker that the silver letters of the name. No doubt, it was Hippotigris of captain Cebrastian and his crew, thought to be as rakish as their ship. And now this very ship was mooring in the harborage of Hoofre.

“Tie down!”

“Aye, captain, all’s done!” A loud cry rolled over the deck.

The habitants of a little seaport were gathering around with shy curiosity. Certainly, Ned Fishing was among them, staring in fascination at the legendary ship. This straw-coloured earthpony colt has been waiting for the pirate raid for about a week already, since the moment the first rumors appeared in taverns.

It was a chance to quit a boring life of an orphan fishing-colt. Ned paid a glance at the ship, planning if it would be possible to get on board. He was an experienced sailor, Ned Fishing, as he has made some risky sea voyages around the Hoofre Bay on board of his old sloop and even got caught in a real storm! Twice. It is high time to become a cabin colt on some real tall-ship otherwise he was doomed to fish here, in this paddling pool of Hoofre for his entire life. And – he sighed and glimpsed at his flank – never get a cutiemark. Ships came to Hoofre regularly and Ned tried to get on board of each one. At first he came straightforwardly and frankly spoke about his desire to join the crew, but no one would take a blank-flank seriously. For some reason nopony wanted to believe in his vocation and dream. Was it all only because no mark has appeared so far to prove his talent to long sea voyages? Ned even tried to get on board with the load of cargo, but was found with laughter every time and sent home before the ship even cast off. The sailors made light-hearted jokes, but to Ned they seemed bitter anyway. And the fisherponies also joked about it, although after the first failures Ned decided not to disclose his great plans to anypony. But they still knew why he was at the port any day a new ship came and, as he came back every evening with a clear upset on his face, they knew he had failed again.

But this time Ned had galloped to the port first of all because the tales about the incredible adventures of the zebra crew were only whispered in taverns like a greatest secret in the whole world. Of course, most of them must have been just silly tales of a bunch of boozers, but if at least one hundredth of those was true, it was already enough for Ned to think that captain Cebrastian was a living legend. And of course Ned wouldn’t dream of joining his crew but yesterday during the dinner the fisherponies asked him mischievously if he had guts to crack such a hard nut. Ned thought he had no troubles with his digestion system, so now he just could not quit without even trying. Even if now he was trembling, there was not only fear somewhere inside, but a thrill also. He was eager to try to sweep the deck today.

Meanwhile captain Cebrastian came ashore, looked somewhere through the crowd and, having noticed somepony, went towards the warehouses. Ned sneaked behind him with bated breath. The captain was exactly as been described, wearing a long black cape with silver lining and a hood, now casually thrown back, with a grin on his face and glare one could neither escape nor resist.

“Yes, captain, sure, captain! Ev’rything’s ready, will be stowed in two hours, no more!”

Ned knew the owner of that voice, it was the forepony of the dockers, he often came to the fishers to have a talk with someone of the grown-ups.

Captain Cebrastian nodded slowly and so did the heavy pearl earring in his left ear.

The cargo, may it be real? The daring pirates, these zebras were collecting ransom right from this dull Hoofre? And a large one, as Ned saw with his own eyes all those huge containers with apples, carrots and fish. He pranced anxiously on a tiny spot, imagining how he would tell everypony about what he had seen when he got back to the fisherponies in the evening. So now he must be twice as attentive so that every minor detail would look trustworthy and nopony could call his story a stupid tale of a little colt.

“Okay, you, striped ones, go have some cider, if you wish. Goreb! Goreb, are you deaf, you, old mattress?” One-eyed boatswain leaned over the bulwark. “Take Mbizi and so that I shall see no cutie pies until you coming off the watch.”

Ned gave a low howl of despair: it was really stupid of him to think that a pirate captain could forget to post a sentry! Well, anyway he should try, as all the curious idlers were slowly going away, and the noisy zebras’ gang scattered around the port. Even their captain went somewhere so quickly that it could seem that he has disappeared just like a ghost from a legend! Of course there were those guards on watch, but he just had to give it a simple try? Or not?.. Ned broodingly touched the quarter line, lying peacefully on the bollard.

“Hey, Goreb! Gor! Are you stuck there or what? Come, quick! Look, there’s a colt trying to climb our line. Been his third try already?.. I think so. Bet he’s gonna reach the middle by the time cap returns.” One of the guards watched Ned with curiosity, while Ned was too busy to notice that little fact. “Come on, colt, you’re gonna do it! No-no-no, not there, it’s slippery there, don’t you see?” Goreb came closer to join Mbizi. He was silent, but Mbizi paid no attention to that and continued to make comments. “Nope. Guess he didn’t as he fell. He was feeble, don’t you think, Goreb? Bet he doesn’t like oatmeal.”

Ned climbed the berth being deeply frustrated. He had no strength to make another attempt now. And besides, those nasty pirates are laughing up there, on the unattainable stern. Surely, they may do that, they already are part of the crew, while Ned… he sobbed. May be it was a wrong decision to try to get on board of the zebras’ ship…

“Hey, colt! Yeah, you, the skinny pipsqueak one!” Ned looked up angrily, thinking if it was safe enough to waggle a hoof at the pirates. “Hey, we really do have the landing brow. It is just a few steps front of you.”

Ned snorted. On the other side, he was invited, wasn’t he? So he put his nose high in the air and started his way up the landing brow to meet his Destiny. Destiny, however, had quite a weird sense of humour to pick out two grinning zebras as its messengers. They were standing on the deck watching Ned. He was losing his courage with every little step, so now only his anger towards nasty zebras pushed him to move his legs. Finally having stepped on board of the legendary ship, Ned made himself look into the eyes of those who had invited him.

He had never seen zebras so close before. His father used to tell him to stay away from “those striped ones”. He thought all zebras to be frauds and cheaters and often told Ned “They'll rob us blind, son. Or even ponynap and sell in slavery to Saddle Arabia.” But there were so many rumours about captain Cebrastian and his crew, that Ned just could not resist temptation to come on board. And the pirates did not look as if they wanted him to decline their invitation.

It was a great chance to add some details to the rumours. Ned looked at the pirates. One was quite young with a long lime-green forelock and a pair of dice on his flank. It should be Mbizi. Ned wondered, how he had got his cutiemark. Was that because the pirate liked to make bets? Or did he start to make them after getting such a cutiemark? The other was grey and his short-cut mane was salt-and-pepper. He was smoking a pipe, a real pirate boatswain! But his cutiemark was strange - a sea tortiose, why? Could a pirate boatswain be slow?

The pirates, obviously bored with their watch, returned Ned a long look. Obviously they did not want to be the first to start the conversation. Ned tried to grin bravely and murmured:

“Um… Good afternoon… Here I come.”

“And what for, if I may ask?” the boatswain asked tranquilly, taking his pipe out of the mouth. It was him, who was called “Goreb” by the captain.

“May be you are lacking desperately a cabin colt in you crew!” answered Ned defiantly, trying to allay anxiety, that made his heart pound.

“Well, usually it is Mbizi who polishes the tackle with his butt,” Goreb burst into laughter. “But may be he won’t mind a little help. What do you think, Mbizi?”

“I think your joke was as feeble as this skinny little colt,” the other guard snorted with offence and added, “I don’t really think we need polished tackle, to tell the striped truth. What we do need is polished deck so that cap stops nagging at me all the time.”

“Well, I can do that!” Ned said much more bravely. “I can do loads of things, honestly! I’ve been sailing on my own for ages, and I can fish, and I know how to keep a boat, and I can swab the deck…”

“…And you can find a bucket and a bear over there, colt.”

Ned nearly gave a leap of joy and got down to business. Pirates or not, zebras at least invited him on board themselves, didn’t send him home and gave him such a brilliant opportunity to show captain Cebrastian as soon as he returns that Ned Fishing is not just a pipsqueak but quite a serious sailor-to-be. And in fact swabbing the deck of Hippotigris is far more than washing the floorboards of his old sloop. Mbizi tried to make a few jokes, but then he caught a glance from Goreb and stepped aside, just watching the strange colt work. Ned, however, hardly noticed any jokes from the sailor on watch as he was too busy polishing the golden laydeck. It seemed to him he would see his reflection soon. And then even captain Cebrastian himself would not be able to find any reason to refuse Ned join the crew. All he had to do is simply change the water as often as possible, he didn’t want to track any dirt or sand on the deck if the captain is so picky.

“You know, colt, if I were you I would splash the water from the starboard. Or at least make sure there isn’t any unlucky pony below.”

“Why, who is going to wander here at such a time!” Ned fobbed off carelessly and attached a rope to the bucket to get some clean water. Well, the cleanest that one could ever get here, in the port of Hoofre. Goreb puffed a light ring of smoke and said nothing more.

***

Cebrastian was on his way back to the ship. The sun was shining high and so was the spirit. At least, there was no sign of any fillies near the landing brow trying to understand who was the first to be asked on a wonderful ship cruise, which meant that Goreb was successful at keeping Mbizi on board and everything must be just fine. Whistling a frivolous tune caught somewhere in a tavern, the captain went to the brow to get on board.

Ned heard the melody just at the moment of splashing another bucket of dirty water off. It suddenly broke for a moment, giving way to a stream of sophisticated curses. Somepony there, at the berth, was elegantly playing with the words Ned knew and those he had never heard before, braiding them into a colourful and vivid text ending with the word “Mbizi”. The latter pricked up his ears and glanced down.
With a nervous giggle he murmured, “Why if it isn’t the cap retuning, I’d better go check the cargo,” and disappeared in the lower hold.
Ned’s heart missed a beat as the colt tried to hide himself behind the mop. It seemed his dreams wouldn’t come true today, and he would be even more lucky if he could get away from the pirates’ schooner safe and sound…

“Where is this living dead?!” yelled the captain as soon as he galloped up the landing brow, as if he was answering the darkest thoughts of the poor colt.

The boatswain finished his pipe in silence, looked at the captain, wet and enraged, and keeping the same calm expression on his face, pointed to the colt trembling and trying to make himself as tiny as possible behind the mop. He sniffed when the captain looked at the direction of him, but Cebrastian took no notice of him, searching for somepony else.

“He was so kind not to bother me and threw himself overboard of his own free will?” said he quieter. The boatswain choked and coughed.

“No way, cap, this time it’s not my fault at all!” offended voice could be heard from the lower hold. “I’ve been here, downstairs all the time, checking the cargo, by the way!”

“I knew it was too good to be true. Get out of there, you, shamelor, and tell me more about the fault that is not yours at all.”

“How am I supposed to know anything about it, if it is not mine?” The sailor was a quick mind, indeed, but anyway he appeared again on the deck. “But your yell definitely didn’t mean you’re going to give me some nice and pleasant bonus today… Oops… Haven’t we told you, colt, to think before you splash? Better think twice next time,” he said that to Ned with the most sincere reproach.

Cebrastian turned his head finally having noticed that there was somepony else on the deck. A straw-coloured earthpony to be exact, definitely paler now than his regular colour. And he was starring at the zebras captain been ready to get any punishment for this mishap, mostly thinking of the capital one. So it was him to salute the captain with this waterfall today… Cebrastian signed – the working days on board this damn schooner never got dull and monotonous, so that one could get used to all the pranks that may occur.

“Mbizi, you did loads of stupid things being asked to stay on watch, but where, by ancestors, have you managed to buy a slave, here, in Hoofre, that would be so glad to swap the deck in your stead? In no time practically, I was absent for an hour or may be two.”

“That was offensive of you, you know, cap. I haven’t put a hoof off this deck today. He climbed himself.”

“Hey!” the colt stamped his hoof. “It was you who invited me!”

“Me?!”

Cebrastian clearly heard a cheerful fakeness in Mbizi’s voice, but the colt, who didn’t know the sailor as well as the captain did, got seriously offended.

***

So it has been a couple of minutes already that captain watched, trying not to give away a sign of smile, how the little colt, trembling with fear moments ago, now was trying to prove himself right, still trembling, yet with anger. Mbizi denied everything said with laughter and tried to hide behind the captain and boatswain from a little hoof, pointing to him. Soon Ned had no more arguments and now he was standing and looking angrily at the zebras, trying not to burst into tears.

“Yes, I poured a bucket of water on the captain, I did! But never sneaked on board, I was invited and I’m not gonna be responsible for that!”

“Listen, colt, it was not the worst salute ever in my life.” The captain grinned. “Nor the most original one also, though. That very shamelor has already helped me to take a sort of shower once.”

“That’s not fair to count that! I was at the “crow’s nest” then!” Mbizi interrupted him.

“I never had a chance to ask you, but… What were you doing there with a bucket of icy-cold dirty water?”

“What do you mean by “what I was doing”? I was swabbing the deck, as you had ordered.”

“At the topmast???”

“Well, there’s still a deck to be swabbed, isn’t there?” noticed Mbizi philosophically.

Cebrastian gave a sigh – outargueing Mbizi was a kind of art, which the captain seemed never to be able to master. Usually Goreb was much of a help in such situations, but today he seemed to be totally on Mbizi’s side. At least without his concern that strange colt could never have appeared on board of Hippotigris.

“I still cannot remember my permission to invite guests on board. Even the cleaning managers. As well as the cleaning managers-to-be,” The captain mentioned elegantly the lack of the cutiemark.

“Not exactly. You only said “so that I don’t see any cutie pies”. This one is certainly not a cutie pie, I swear!” Goreb slapped the sore colt gently with his tail. “He said he had been sailing for ages and knows the sea better that this town, Hoofre. Wants to become a cabin colt at Hippotigris.”

“He’s gonna call for his mummy no later than comes the first wave!” joked one of the returning sailors and said bluntly what captain had only implied in his speech. “He even doesn’t have a cutiemark, what do we need this pipsqueak for?”

“Oh, yeah. And then his mummy gonna make a terrible fuss around evil zebras taken her precious little son. No way are we going in such a trouble,” somepony agreed.

Ned stamped his hoof angrily. His destiny was about to make a turn and if he was left back now, when he was almost there at the sea – not only the fisherponies, all Hoofre would die out of laughter! He took no notice of the fact that Hippotigris was a legend he never ever dared to dream of. Here and now he was standing on this “legend’s” deck in front of her captain, and no pony on earth could make him leave. And nor should be able the zebras. He had to say something very meaningful, immediately.

“If you didn’t know, I had been through a great storm once! And I never call mummy, I’m an orphan.”

Cebrastian smiled looking at this clumsy adolescent with large green eyes sparkling with rebel and challenge.

“Ok, you, blank flank, we’ll see what you’re worth. What’s your name, you’d said?”

“Ned Fishing, captain!”

“A lightsome name indeed. Well, Mbizi, as it was you to deliver such a kind invitation, you are going to be responsible for him. Yes, he’ll definitely join your watch crew tomorrow. And for now – show our new cabin colt around. And what are you all gazing at? Go get the others from the pubs, now! We’re ready to move.”

The sailor nodded quickly and lugged Ned away to the bunkroom.

“So look,” Mbizy unfolded the chart, but the cabin colt only glanced at it as he was much more interested in the interior of the place. “We’re going from your Hoofre here, to Uni-Cornwall. There we give those rhinoceroses their chow-down… I wanted to say, we shall deliver the unicorns their food, grab the magical stuff… um, take the magical items on board and go to Coltpenhagen, to earthponies again. And there we’ll see.”

“So that is how the pirates collect the ransom?” gasped Ned impatiently, having a break of the attempts to see all and everything in the bunkroom of a big real, the most pirateful tall-ship in the world.

“Pirates, um?” Mbizi opened his eyes widely.

“Why, there are so many rumors in all the taverns!” And Ned started to retell all the stories about the captain Cebrastian’s rampant horde one by one. He felt a little foolish at first telling the pirate about the very adventures he had been through, but then he decided that a good story always looks differently if told by a different narrator.

“And so the captain ordered to throw all the gold away, because otherwise…” Ned suddenly stopped, interrupted by a figure of that he had been talking for an hour or so at the doors of the bunkroom. Cebrastian was standing, leaning unto the door pillar, with a grin and desperate sadness somewhere deep in his dark-blue eyes.

“Continue please, sorry for having interrupted such a fascinating story. I adore listening to gossips our competitions invent. Unfortunately I guess I’ve learnt them all by heart so far, so I won’t hear anything new. What I do know, however, is that most dealers avoid our crew at all means. They say, one can never trust zebras…”

He shook his head and suddenly came up to Ned so close that the colt could feel his warm breath.

“So remember one key point if you want our… partnership to be long-lasting, colt. We are the best to play the seas in this world. We have this sea flowing in our veins, and Hippotigris means the quickest and safest delivery. But if just one damn farmer reports our failure – all our hard word will sink to the bottom in a moment. The only our protection is keeping standards higher than perfection. Not too difficult to understand, is it?”

Ned, struck by this unexpected discovery, nodded without saying a word.

***

The next morning, when the memories about the captain’s blunt words became smoother, Ned was again full of energy and impatient to stand his first real watch. He appeared here and there on the deck, loading everyone he could see with questions. The captain watched him from the bridge frowning. The cabin colt argued a lot, often had no patience to listen to the answers to his own questions and all in all created more fuss than was useful. It seemed that the yesterday’s speech about reputation completely slipped out of his mind. The captain went to his cabin and took a glance of the map, on which he himself bore the course yesterday. A sudden thought returned the smile to his face. He came out to the deck, and having noticed one of the sailors to stand Mbizi’s watch, he called him closer by a gesture to be able to whisper something to him. The sailor soon brought Ned to captain’s cabin and left them two alone closing the door firmly.

“So, this evening you are standing on watch as a member of my crew. I want to see exactly whom I got aboard. Here’s the chart. It must be studied, learnt and known for you to sail on your own.”

Ned’s heart missed a beat; he grabbed the chart ready to gallop to the bunkroom. A loud cry stopped him.

“Hey, wait. Are you sure you can understand the pilot?”

“Sure!” answered Ned carelessly. Eventually that’s the sea, what can one draw on the map except water and a line of the course from one port to another?

“Hey there,” it was the time to change the watch and the captain came up to the cabin colt, who was eating an apple. “Studied the chart, haven’t you?”

“Yes… Aye! Aye, captain!”

“Better that be truth. What are you waiting for then? To the wheel. Head to the lighthouse and then keep alignment in sight until you pass the cape. Call me when passed. Goreb, old fellow, what about having a pint of cider?”

“Um, Ceb, you are the captain, of course, but are you really so sure of the colt? Can he… Can he pass this part all alone? Such a narrow fairway…”

“Am I sure? Oh, yes, I am. One hundred percent,” The captain grinned. “I’ll tell you more, I will be deeply surprised if he passes. Don’t worry, I’ve chosen carefully the place, where mistake won’t be disgrace.”

Ned took the steering-wheel, sometimes calling out commands for the sailors. Yesterday he could hardly believe that he had been accepted to become a member of the crew on board this legendary schooner. But in his most daring dreams couldn’t he imagine to steer a trick at the wheel on his first day. The wheel was heavy, but Ned tried as he might to maintain the course. The cabin colt pursed his lips and half-closed his eyes to seem older and stronger. He hoped that his voice today was also the most appropriate to the situation, being deep and loud.

Mbizi was the watch officer this time and he smiled at Ned shrieking his commands and the sailors pretending that they really are “heaving around on one” or “cross the yards to go full and by”. Let the colt play a bit, the captain’s orders aren’t to be discussed. Well, he surely understands why he has put the colt at the wheel today.

A sudden bump put an end to the peaceful laziness of Mbizi’s thoughts. The ship hit the gravel bar with her stem post and, being pulled by the wind, slid forward and stopped a yard or two further, paralyzed in sand and gravel. Mbizi swored in a low voice, as it was his responsibility to watch over. Captain will certainly be not amused at all. And there he comes… The sailor-in-charge gulped.

“What the hay’s going on here?!” yelled Cebrastian.

Mbizi tried to invent a witty response to bear the brunt, but one of the sailors was quicker.

“Have run ground, captain!”

“Aye, that’s what I would never notice, surely! Why weren't the sails eased out immediately?!”

“We got no command, captain.” Somepony again was quicker than Mbizi.

“Mbizi, is that true? There really were no commands from our new little skipper?” the captain now looked as if he could kill with a single glance.

“Aye, cap, but…”

“So, there weren’t!” Cebrastian hid a smile deep in his eyes and rushed to the bridge where pale Ned was trembling at the wheel. “You said, you’d studied the chart, am I right, blank flank?”

Ned nodded in silence wondering if he’ll be flogged, left on a desert island or hung right away.

“But may be you happen to know, how to heave off?” The captain’s voice was still severe, but far less frightening already.

Ned nodded again, but the captain was waiting for a full answer, so he pulled himself together and whispered, “Aye, captain… one must seel, or try to pull from the water, or kedge. And if that doesn’t help, one should throw away the lastage to make the vessel not so heavy and try again…”

“Well then. All the lastage we have is the cargo for the unicorns. And I let you no more than six hours to fix the things, before I have to “throw away” the cargo and drown our reputation with it.” A light giggle was heard from the deck, and Cebrastian turned around immediately. “Anything funny there, shamelors? Why are you still standing there when you are supposed to help him? Move, now!”

The captain was standing at the bridge together with the boatswain watching the colt who was trying to row further from the ship to drop the anchor into the water.

“I guess, Ceb, next moment he’s gonna either drown himself, or our pinnace.”

“Hope he won’t, as I was planning to drag this kedging back on board. We have to admit, Gor, he did his best and we really got aback a tiny bit. Must be several feet or so, I suppose.”

Steaming, Ned was climbing up the ladder to the bridge as if it was his personal scaffold. Cebrastian looked at him trying with all his might to maintain the tragic majesty of the moment. Goreb was a great obstacle to it, as he was trembling with laughter, though he never made a single sound.

“So?”

Ned was silent. On the tip of his nose there gathered a drop of tears.

“What are you waiting for?” The captain’s severe voice promised all sorts of scourge. “To the wheel, now!”

Ned looked at the laughing captain in great surprise.

“Tide’s rising. Hey you, over there, come on, move! Set the sails! And you, colt, stop gazing around. Better hold this silly schooner tight, don't let her go rogue and straggle. Hippotigris adores playing pranks with her skippers, trust me. Steer the course,” He pressed Ned's hooves to the wheel to help him. “The wind is steady, we’ll come to Uni-Cornwall by midday tomorrow if it doesn’t change drastically. Now you see why the chart must be studied carefully before any voyage. And usually there are some tips of advice, added by the skipper. Nothing to sob and snivel, really, that’s where the answer could be found, so learn, not boast and you will never run aground.”

***

They did come to Uni-Cornwall right on time to deliver the supplies for the local fair. The unicorn’s governor being very content watched the unloading.

“As usual – perfect timing, captain! Not a bit of a rotten apple!”

The chain of levitated boxes went somewhere towards the warehouses. Suddenly their neat lines were disturbed by a pair of pegasi, trying to maintain control of a large container tied to a cloud.

“Was it your order on a thunderstorm with lightning?” One of them addressed the governor.

The latter shook his head in surprise.

“What does it mean if it isn’t yours? This must be New-Cornwall, is it?”

“No, I’m afraid it’s not. This – is Uni-Cornwall. New-Cornwall is to the north of the Rainbow lighthouse,” said Cebrastian to fill in the strange pause. The pegasi swored.

“How did it happen that you’ve missed the destination? Is it your chart that is not good enough?” Ned was omnipresent, of course.

“Nope, it’s just that somepony have stupid names for the settlements!” One of the pegasae answered mischievously. “Be it Uni-Cornwall or New – of course the couriers are always to blame, not those who have such close names…”

“Those poor ponies have never been to Zebrica, colt!” whispered Cebrastian to Ned, who gave a giggle. “It is not just “be it Tumba-mumba or Tampu-vampu” tribe, they’re also nomads. Well, taking into account the heat in the desert – by ancestors, that’s what I call a real delivery challenge! Lucky me, I never had real necessity to accept it. Zebras usually come at the coast on some special days to trade, so that I can get whatever I need without chasing them in the sands. Oh, and by the way, speaking of the trade days…” The last phrase he said louder and turned to the governor.

“You’re going to Zebrica, captain? That would be much of a help, if you could…”

“Don’t think I am going there right now, but we may discuss it. But a voyage to Zebrica is always so risky…” There was a sly glare in his eyes for a moment.

“Yes, of course, I understand,” the unicorn answered a bit quicker than he should, and captain smiled. “I understand, this dry severe desert with unpredictable climate…”

“Unpredictable?!” The pegasi turned round. “A vast land depending on twists of nature, how dreadful! While we could…”

“As far as I know, we, zebras, are quite content with our climate,” noticed Cebrastian dryly. “However, if somepony has a desire to take it up… well, it is also may be discussed.”

The pegasi whispered something to each other and one of them took off the harness.

“New horizons are always so interesting, aren’t they, captain?”

“No doubt. Well, why not having a talk then? Guys, you may have some free time, we’re going to stay for an hour or two. And Goreb, please, no more new members of the crew, aye? Nearly forgot you, colt. You may go enjoy some freedom till the time we set sails. But if you salute me again as you did it last time, I’ll be very disappointed with your imagination.” He winked to surprised Ned and, having gently slapped him on the back, followed the ponies.

Author's Note

Goreb - a zebra (nama/damarra language)
Mbizi - a zebra (shona language)
Hippotigris - a zebra (latin language)

Chapter 2. Uni-Cornwall

“Where have you been? We’ve been searching high and low for four hours already! Miserable town…” Mbizi told Ned off. It was early evening of the day when Hippotigris came to Uni-Cornwall.

“Well, I wanted to tell you or Goreb where I would go, I really did! But I couldn’t. I didn’t know where I would go, it’s my first visit to Uni-Cornwall,” the cabin colt put down his ears in sorrow. “Sorry, I forgot about the time at all. Is captain very mad at me?”

“Dunno. I saw him about two hours ago last time, and then he swore to tear off one’s ears as soon as he finds you, if I remember it right.”

Ned smiled with a bit of hope. At least, captain didn’t swear to cast off without him, all the rest was tolerable. But Ned held up the whole crew again, and what’s more, zebras had to look for him, running around the town. He sighed and sat down, leaning against bulwarks. How many more mishaps would zebras forgive him? And, more importantly, what did captain Cebrastian think of him now, when Ned had let him down twice already in such a short period of time? Tears welled in his eyes, and Ned dashed them away angrily, but they would not stop returning. It seemed that real life of a sailor turned out to be far more difficult, than Ned had imagined. Ned tried with all his might to look worthy of that trust that the sailors from Hippotigris, this legendary zebra schooner, paid to him, but he failed. May be it meant that he didn’t make enough effort, and if so – did that also mean it would be better to come ashore immediately on his own will? May be, those who considered him too young for real voyages, were right? Should he follow their advice? Stick to the ground, live in one and the same town for the whole life and never ever dream of seafaring. Not to dishonor the glorious name of the schooner and her captain. Ned sobbed…

“Hey, colt, what’s the matter? Hey, wait, please, don’t cry!” Mbizi heard Ned sobbing and sat down staring at him in surprise. “Listen, I am sorry, I didn’t mean to scold or scare you, just chose the wrong words! Of course no one is going to tear off anything from you, especially ears! If we tear off your ears, you’ll never ever listen to us again!” He gave a giggle and stopped short. The joke sounded offensive and inappropriate indeed, but Mbizi could not understand what to do to comfort the crying colt. He was not supposed to hug him, was he? At least Mbizi remembered himself at Ned’s age, and he certainly would not be happy with such lovey-dovey behavior. But the cabin colt ignored the question about the cause of his tears, and zebra didn’t quite catch, what the problem could be.

“By ancestors, I wish you were a filly! At least I know what to do when they burst into tears!”

“Do you?” Ned sniffed and frowned his suspicion at Mbizi.

“I’m telling you the striped truth!” Mbizi puffed his chest up.

“Does that always work?”

“Surely it does!”

“Then shall I pretend to be a filly?”

“WHAT?!”

“Well, you’ve just told me that you know what to do with a crying filly. And that you wish I was one, so you could do something with me,” Ned explained patiently. Mbizi thought that Ned successfully checked his tears himself, but the colt needed some time to realize that.

“You see, if you just pretend, it won’t work. With a filly everything is simple, you just give her a nice warm hug and then… um, show her, how deeply you love her,” Mbizi tried to be careful with words, but as the cabin colt’s eyes welled with tears again, zebra surely said something wrong.

“And me… You don’t love me at all, do you, Mbizi? Is that because I always let everypony down?” Ned asked in a very low voice.

Mbizi gave a howl of despair and beat his head against the bulwarks. Why is it so difficult to deal with foals? Where is Goreb, their born mentor, where is the captain who can simply roar an order – and the problem is gone… Wait a minute! That’s it! Mbizi smiled and took a deep breath.

“Away that!” He tried to imitate Cebrastian’s voice. Ned giggled, and Mbizi thought he was close to the captain’s manner. “Do you know there’s a punishment for tears on board? Combined with you being late for the cast off – it will be doubled. It means that you will be peeling apples whole day, by the way. So, I’ll go bring them here, and while peeling, you will tell me, where could one have gone lost in this provincial town for six hours!”

“Wait, shouldn’t I be working in the galley? I thought, it is a much more appropriate place to… get wise.” Ned was surprised.

“The most appropriate place for that on board of our schooner is the captain’s cabin, I tell you the striped truth. Because while captain is giving a tongue-lashing, you will pray to be wise enough not to get caught next time.”

Ned didn’t have a chance to answer as Mbizi disappeared from the deck. He smiled, that must be why the taverns are full of rumors about the phantom ship. The sailors disappear from the deck like ghosts – so fast that you cannot notice the moment, and all in all captain Cebrastian prefers not to stay in one port for a long time without a reason. Ned sighed: without the reason, indeed! He hasn’t decided whether he should ask for permission to come ashore forever or it will look as if he made a mess and wanted to escape the consequences like a coward. And it seems that now he won’t have time to decide either as he was supposed to peel the apples and talk, and talk, and talk.
Mbizi brought a basket full of apples to the deck and now was at the galley again choosing a saucepan for the peeled ones. Having chosen, he dropped two knives into it and settled by the main mast.

“Well, I guess, I am ready to listen to you very carefully, colt!” Mbizi took one of the knives and sat down. “Why are looking at me like that? You didn’t think you would be peeling apples alone, did you?”

“I thought, I was punished…”

“That only proves how little you know about the punishments here. The real punishment will begin, if I start to question you. So you better tell me everything yourself. And I warn you, I like detailed, colorful and vivid stories!”

Ned gave a sigh, sat by his side and started telling about his adventures in Uni-Cornwall.

***

When captain Cebrastian and the ponies went away to have their negotiations, Goreb came up to Ned and gave him a purse. The boatswain explained that it was not the best idea to explore the new town without money, especially when you earned some. Then he returned to the sailors to choose those who would stay on watch, and Ned walked slowly to the exit from the port. He thought for a moment if he should wait for someone of the crew, but the idea seemed a bit stupid. Father used to say, that it was rude and impolite to bother the grown-ups without a good reason. And following a sailor who could have his own business in Uni-Cornwall just not to get lost or bored was certainly not a good reason. It also seemed childish, and Ned thought that as from now on he was a cabin colt at a real tall-ship, he was supposed to be grown up and sensible enough to be able to deal with the problems on his own.

The cargo port of Uni-Cornwall merged into the passenger port and further lengthened into the broad quay paved with slabs of stones of all colors. Ned stopped at one of viewpoints for a minute or two, glanced at the sea and the horizon, smiled and turned round to pick up a narrow street to explore first.

At the very first sight it was obvious that a unicorn town was so much different from down-to-earth, solid – even heavy-footed – Hoofre. The houses did not huddle together, and they didn’t overhang, no, the town was spacious, with detached houses, and Ned even saw here and there small front yards with flowers and lawns. But may be Ned just was judging his hometown too severely? He rarely went anywhere from the fisherponies guild after his father’s disappearance.

Still, Hoofre was different. For example, the market place was girdled by houses. They were painted blue, orange, red and green, symbolizing the four town sections, and there were only five straight streets between them. The fifth one was shorter than the others and divided the green section in two halves, and there was the Town Hall at the other end. Ned smiled to his thoughts. They used to go to the market with his father, every week, taking the street between the orange and the blue sectors. It was good to remember that. And then there was the storm after which Ned’s father never came back… Ned didn’t pay much attention to the colors of his town after the tragedy. And the port, where they lived with the other fisherponies? It has always been gray, no matter when. Though before Ned would look more often at the colorful flags of the ships, or the sea, always of different color, or find a piece of colored glass to look through. Dad never approved that, but never threw away his “jewels” either. So port could become green or chocolate-brown, or even deep blue, if Ned was lucky enough to find such a chip.

The houses in Uni-Cornwall were mostly white or pale-blue, some were pale-green. But the roofs! The roofs were amazing – colorfully tiled, high, sharp and steed. They often ended with a spire or a wind spinner. Lots of comets, telescopes or simply complicated ornaments danced their pirouettes with the wind. Ned could sometimes see a nice little balcony with a stained glass or a skylight here and there. He tried to walk slowly so that he had enough time to see everything, afraid to stop, as dad always said that it is very impolite to stand and stare, even at the most wonderful thing in the world.
The sun was about to start sloping to the west horizon, and the unicorns, waiting out the heat of the day to be over at home or in small cozy taverns, appeared in the streets. They passed the time of day with each other and some of then even did that with Ned, more out of courtesy than real desire, may be, but the colt paid no attention to such nuisances and just smiled and sincerely saluted everypony he met on his way.

The streets of Uni-Corwall were a real maze, but Ned didn’t choose his way on purpose, just turned randomly. Though straight streets of Hoofre were more habitual, the clock tower was a nice orienting point and Ned was not afraid to be lost or late. One can always ask somepony the direction in case. And captain Cebrastian told Ned that he had an hour for his sightseeing tour. Goreb looked at the sea and assured the cabin colt, that he has solid two hours, two and a half may be. Plenty of time, really! Ned could not think of an activity in a totally new port. Wandering around looking at the interesting houses? Oh, and he should find a post office! Ned never had free time and money to write a letter while living in Hoofre, and, to be honest, he had nopony to write to, but now… Why not send a message to the fisherponies?

Slight but appetizing sweet savor of fresh pastry got to Ned’s nose and he remembered that quite a time had passed since he had had breakfast. He stopped in front of a small tavern and pushed the door. An avalanche of scents and sounds thundered around, but it differed from the noise in a port pub, where Ned used to go. This sharp contrast left Ned a little disoriented, but he was the only new visitor so there was no pony he could watch and copy the manners.

“Would you like to have lunch, sir?”

The calm voice nearly made Ned jump and he looked up to an elegant white unicorn with a bow-tie. His dark green mane was brushed back, not a hair out of place. Ned nodded without a word. No one called him “sir” before, so Ned was confused.

“Have you got a reservation, sir?” The unicorn showed no sign of surprise or arrogance towards a blank-flank earthpony colt as if he had hordes of them each day visiting the restaurant. Ned shook his head saying nothing. “Follow me, please.”

The white unicorn set a nice table by the window, and a smiling yellow waitress brought the menu. Ned was still confused, so he was looking through the menu with no idea of what to order. She understood that instantly, so began to recite cheerfully all the specialties, soups of the day and other delicious things a visitor should definitely try here. Ned was very sorry to interrupt her, but he didn’t count the money Goreb had given him. So when the waitress mentioned what a great vegetable stew they have, he smiled and ordered it.

“Are you sure I can’t get you anything else?”

“Um… well, some water, may be?”

“I’ll be right back… sir!” The waitress gave him a wink and galloped to the kitchen.

The vegetable stew was really delicious and tasted like at home. But there occurred a sudden problem with water. Ned was used to the Hoofre manner to serve beverages in mugs, so, when the yellow waitress put a glass on the table using her magic, he was surprised. As an earthpony he was not able to use magic, and if he tried to take the glass with his hooves, he would probably spill all the water around.

“Shall I bring you a straw or a glass holder?” The white unicorn appeared near.

“Um… a straw, please?” Ned answered in a low voice.

He was nervous making first gulps, but other visitors paid no attention to him. Ned felt at ease and finished his lunch tranquilly. Having paid the bill, he asked the yellow waitress, if there was a dragon fire post office in town.

There was one indeed, but Ned had to ask thrice before he understood how to get there. All those directions like “just turn left and then right, and when you pass the bakery just make a dive into the side street” could drive anypony crazy. But the waitress was patient enough to explain the way, so Ned was not afraid of getting lost. The only thing that worried him was the fact that he lost the sight of the clock tower. But he didn’t suppose that he would waste time at the post, so that should be a very quick visit. Just long enough to write a short letter to fisherponies.

Dad always said that at least somepony ashore must be aware that one was going to the sea. And you must always send a message having got safely to your destination, so that those pony waiting could not worry about you anymore. It was nice and thoughtful from a sailor’s side. Ned didn’t tell the fisherponies he was going to try to join the zebra crew… And now they must be really worried, because he didn’t come back that day. It was certainly a good idea to write to them.

Ned knew what to do at the post office, he had been there a couple of times with his father. He confidently took a sheet of special paper out of the box. Ponies were supposed to write their letters on them and then to put the paper and the money into another box. Or to give the letter personally to the post-dragon. Ned could write, though his father thought that his writing was incomprehensible and there were lots of mistakes. Moreover there were no pencils at the post office in Uni-Cornwall, Ned had to write with a quill. There were more inkblots than words themselves in the letter, but he didn’t dare to rewrite. No guarantee that there would be less blots, and Ned had not too much free time left. In this case it was better to go directly to the dragon, give him the letter and the money ad name the addressee aloud than to label the scroll in writing. And Ned was the only visitor at the post, so he would not be an obstacle for any other letters to be sent.

“To the master of the fisherponies guild of Hoofre then?” The dragon inquired and fiddled with the scroll.

“Yes, please. To Rafle Pêche,” Ned watched with fascination the scroll burning in the green flames. The greenish smoke went through a tiny window under the roof curling and twisting on its way to the addressee. “It looks amazing! Can I send a letter to anypony with your help?”

“Sure. Except for the dead, of course. But they do not need letters any more, do they?”

“Does that mean…” Ned bit his lip. “Does that mean I can learn if a pony is alive by just sending a letter?”

“It does,” the dragon answered reluctantly. “But are you really sure that’s what you want? It may be… costly, you know.”

“I still have some money left…” whispered Ned. “May be that’ll be enough for a short message? How much it that?”

“Five coins a message, as usual.”

“But that’s not costly at all?..”

“I said nothing about your pony money. I mean, that you might deeply regret your decision in future. Or may be you won’t, who knows. Time will tell.”

“I see…”

Ned nodded slowly and went back to the hall with blank sheets of paper. Shut his eyes and took one. He could feel this shaggy scroll and the very thought of what he was going to do made him tremble with fear and thrill.

The message ended up to be not so short as Ned thought, he had to rewrite it several times, sometimes running the quill through the whole text. At last, having put a dot, he looked through the letter and nodded to himself. He addressed the label very carefully so that no blots spoil the name. And put the letter into a special box. Count five coins carefully to put them nearby and went outside. He didn’t feel ready to see if the letter would fly away or burn to ashes. May be his father had no chance to find a dragon and reply, but it would be highly unjust to go seafaring without even trying to follow his main rule. He definitely must be aware that his son was now making really long voyages.

Ned had a strange feeling after visiting the post office. He forgot completely about the time or about the fact that he had to return to Hippotigris. All he wanted was just to get away from this place and may be even never return again. Thinking so, he wandered along one of the streets to a square with a fountain. Ned sat down and splashed some water into his face. He felt better, and then… then the clock on the tower started striking and a dragon-post scroll appeared in front of him. He must have fallen asleep in the square… Ned took the letter with surprise, read ad rushed to the port. He just hoped he remembered the way and would not get lost in this unicorn town.

***

“I knew, genius is simplicity!” Mbizi giggled. “You see, we searched the whole town and then came across the post office. First the dragon told us he had seen an earthpony colt looking just like one we were trying to find. And then I got an idea to send you a scroll. As well as to the other searching parties, where are they now, I wonder? They should have returned already! And I hope you didn’t burst into tears because of my silly letter? Well, to tell you the striped truth I was a bit angry with you when I was writing it. I guess it turned out really… passionate. And I am sorry.”

Ned smiled and answered that he now felt totally fine. He didn’t tell Mbizi the whole story about the post office, he just said that he wanted the sent a letter to Hoofre. And then he found a fountain, and decided to play, and forgot about time. Just… foalish of him, yes. Mbizi definitely understood that there was much more behind Ned’s words, but didn’t insist on knowing all the details. Just mentioned that it was quite thoughtful to write to the fisherponies. They must have searched the port and Hoofre just like the zebra crew did today. Ned was not sure the fishers were that much worried, but they definitely were upset when he didn’t come home as usual.

Mbizi also mentioned that he was not late himself today, even more – he returned before captain and even gathered all the crew on the deck. Cebrastian was surprised with such punctuality, but soon noticed that the straw-colored earthpony was missing. A quick questioning revealed that no one in the crew had a slightest idea where the cabin cot had gone...

“What do you mean by saying “no one has seen him since mooring”? Did you just let him ashore all alone?!”

“Ceb, he’s not a baby to need a nurse watching over his every step!” Goreb had a reason indeed.

Captain had no counter-arguments for such an obvious statement. So he sighed and said dryly:

“Do what you want, level this town stone by stone if needed, but I want this blank-flank standing on the deck in front of me before sunset!”

First, zebras formed groups of five and Mbizi went with the captain, but after two hours it became evident that they should split if they didn’t want to look for Ned for ages. It was them when captain said he’d tear off one’s ears…

“But I was the lucky one, as always!” Mbizi couldn’t help not boasting. “I found you, and I even had a glass of cyder at the tavern where you had had lunch. Smiley Star was much of a help! It’s that yellow waitress of yours. Watch the master, I spent there less time than you, but I know her name! And I’ve never drank cyder in such a posh manner, from a stem glass with a straw… I’m not sure it’s a kind of experience I’d like to make regular, you see what I mean? Hey, look, there’s cap returning! And the others, great!”

***

“Mbizi, have you really found him?” Cebrastian voice sounded tired.

“Aye, cap, I have!” Mbizi replied from the deck.

Cebrastian took a breath of relief and came to the landing brow to get on board. Mbizi watched the heavy measured tread become more of a rest step. It seemed he was not the only lucky one today, even if captain told the cabin colt off, it would not be a severe punishment for him. The latter jumped on his feet to meet the captain. Ned looked guilty and didn’t notice the change of the captain’s mood. He still thought he would be punished. Cebrastian sighed and came closer.

“What image did I have in those tales from Hoofre that you are so much afraid of me, I wonder? Let’s take all of these,” he pointed to the apples, “to the galley. I will also put on some tea, I guess that shall make you explain everything to me.”

Ned looked at him with such fear in his eyes, that Cebrastian understood – the tales were violent and bloody.

“Oh, yeah. Those were words by a master of thought, indeed! Deserve quotation, surely,” Mbizi snorted and took the saucepan with the peeled apples. “Please, blank-flank, pull yourself together, ok? I worked really hard to calm you down and I don’t want all my efforts to go up in smoke because of some zebra who does not think before he opens his mouth.”

“I think I missed something… unusual today.”

“Oh, no, captain! I was just telling Mbizi my… first impressions from Uni-Cornwall, nothing more!”

“Well, if you say so…” Cebrastian did not insist on a detailed response, just took the basket with the rest of the apples and followed Mbizi to the galley.

Ned took the bucket with the peelings ready to go to the galley too. Zebra crew gathered slowly on the deck, returning from the town. They were chatting, sometimes throwing glances at the cabin colt. Ned .felt scared again.

“We hope you had a good time today! It was much more fun to look for you than for Mbizi when he goes to his favorite tavern, you know. But next time you decide to get lost, please warn at least any of us so that captain won’t be worried to death,” shouted one of the zebra sailors cheerfully.

Embarrassed Ned turned around, but zebras were not laughing at him. They really had a good time themselves and were not angry at all. Ned smiled shyly, took the bucket of the apple peels and hurried to the galley following Mbizi and captain.

Mbizi was quick enough to cut the apples into large pieces and now was trying to decide what he wanted to cook. On the one side, he wanted to bake them with cottage cheese and cream, on the other, a mash would do as well. Cebrastian put on a kettle and now stood on his hind legs to reach the upper shelves of the cupboard looking for tea.

“Mbizi, did you mess everything up here again? Can you tell me, why, by ancestors, there is anything but tea in a box specially labelled “Tea”?” Cebrastian opened another box and sneezed, having found out pepper in it. “Ah. There it is. I guess, it did no harm to tea to place it in a box for cinnamon.”

“And where is our cinnamon then?” Mbizi sounded truly surprised to blame him on this little piece of chaos.

“Where else can we have cinnamon on board our dearest schooner if not in a box for hot pepper, I wonder?”

“Just perfect… I hoped I could make a nice dinner after such a long day… Well then, I’ll make a mash, it will be nice too.”

Ned put the bucket with the apple peelings down and stepped back. Cebrastian was doing something with the teapot, he put there some herbs and spices. Then he poured boiling water into the pot and turned round to face the colt.

“Mbizi is not really into tea…”

“I just can’t get what you all find in this bitter hay brew!” the latter sidelined Cebrastian to put the saucepan on the stove.

“But may be you will be so kind to do me a pleasure of having a cup of tea with me?..” Cebrastian finished paying no attention to Mbizi’s words.

“But I’ve never tried tea before…”

“So much the better. Let’s go to my cabin, shall we? Mbizi gets nervous when someone watches over him at the galley.”

“Well, I never interfere with your "mystical rituals" and shamanism over that hay brew, cap, so will you please return me that favor?” Mbizi snorted after them.

In the cabin Cebrastian motioned Ned to a seat and went to the shelves with cups and a sugar bowl on a small tray. Ned was standing still at the doors, looking around. Mbizi must have been wrong to say that captain’s cabin as a gloomy place for punishments only. Ned thought it was gorgeous. There was a polished chest, a table cluttered up with maps and pilots, a bed with a knitted cover carelessly thrown on it, books on the shelves, instruments, carved caskets, a lamp… The sunset gave a wonderful orange light, and long shadows decorated the floor and the walls like the spires of Uni-Cornwall decorated the roofs. Light fume curled above the porcelain cups, filling the cabin with odors of tea, mint and cinnamon.

“Sit down, please, will you? I’m not going to scold you,” Cebrastian grinned, trying to hide some sort of sorrow in his voice.
Ned sat on one of the cushions feeling confused. Captain drew a cup and the sugar bowl nearer to him and silently sat down on the opposite side of the table. He was looking through the window thinking of something deeply personal. Ned put some sugar in his tea, bushing red. He could only think of how not to spill or break anything here… Cebrastian was silent, stirring his tea without making a sound. Ned tried to do the same, but trembling nervously he could not make so fine movements so his spoon was clinking against the cup. Her silver twin-sister got out of time and echoed, and captain as if waken out of trance asked in a low voice:

“Tell me, you just got carried away in playing today, please. Make me feel at ease.”

“Um, I kinda did… why?”

“Good. I was afraid for a moment that you’d decided to leave us without even saying goodbye.”

Ned opened his mouth to reassure captain that he would never do such a thing, but remembered his thoughts and said:

“Um… you know, captain, I was thinking today if I should stay back… Try to find some… other way in life?”

The porcelain cup gave a jolt and some spilt tea left a wet trace on the captain’s hoof.

“When following desires that lead you off you way, beware – price is higher than you would like to pay... Don’t copy the mistake a witless zebra once made,” Cebrastian shook his head and smiled before the cabin colt had a chance to reply. “And I am tired of Mbizi’s habit to forget about time. I know he is supposed to be your mentor and you try your best to learn from him, but… There aren’t enough sailors in the crew to look for both of you, so try to be more punctual next time, please!”

Ned nodded and took a sip of tea. Cebrastian followed his example, still smiling. They were drinking tea, saying nothing more, thinking of their own experience. Ned was thinking about a very important question – he was not sure if he had put enough tea in his sugar. Cebrastian glanced over the cabin. A small simple wooden casket on the table caught his eye. Captain knew by heart all the things in it. There were several letters, a sketch of a portrait, a silver brooch, tarnished in the course of time, and two pale-blue plywood chips...

Author's Note

Rafle - a net (french language)
Pêche - fishing (french language)

Chapter 3. One watch to change it all

“Hey you two there! Dinner’s ready, are you coming, or can I eat to my heart’s content?” Mbizi opened the door of the captain’s cabin with a wide smile on his face.

Ned put his cup on the table and looked at Cebrastian, waiting for his permission to go. Captain nodded slowly, and the cabin colt galloped to the galley. He certainly felt much more at ease there with the sailors, than having tea with the captain himself.

“And what about you? Or shall I give you a ceremonial bow and ask humbly if the famous captain feels like joining us for dinner tonight? Bet I can copy that white unicorn snob from a tavern quite successfully. Though we haven’t got any straws for cyder…”

“The famous captain doesn’t feel well tonight,” Cebrastian snorted with a smile. “So you may eat up a storm if you want.”

Mbizi nodded and disappeared. Cebrastian sighed, stood up and went to the door, left widely opened of course. Mbizi never paid attention to such small stuff… Should he lock it up, or it would be too much? Too much, thought he and returned to the table. The tea had already turned cold, but that was the small stuff Cebrastian himself could neglect. He took his cup and sat down again, when the door flew opened from a good bump. Goreb surely seemed very angry…

“What does that hunger strike mean, if I may ask?!”

Cebrastian thought that he was lucky enough not to make a gulp.

“Pardon?..”

“No strikes then?” Goreb asked much calmer. “And Mbizi dramatized again, and you’re not going to keep a fast and meditate for a week?”

“And I was wondering where do the rumors about my… bloody zebra nature come from. Actually, no. At least I wasn’t thinking about it right now, so you may give that shamelor some extra duties at the galley on my behalf. But I really was planning to skip the dinner tonight. And to take up the night watch, so you may tell the others they are free to use this time as they wish.”

“I will. But I warn you that if I wake up because of you raffling pots and dishes at the galley, by ancestors, I’ll pay no attention to the fact you’re the captain here.” The boatswain snapped his tail like a whip.

“Got it. No raffling noises at the galley this night, I swear. Only riffling in the hold or somewhere like that,” Cebrastian smiled gently. Goreb returned him the smile and went away, having closed the door behind him.

Surprisingly, having got a free evening the sailors didn’t rush to the taverns as Cebrastian could expect. So, now the captain was half-lying on the fake with his eyes half-closed, smiling and listening to the zebras squalling songs. The crew gathered at the foredeck and sometimes Cebrastian heard the thin voice of the cabin colt dashing into the tune. Ned either knew some of the shanties or tried to gather up the chorus at least. Not that he had any serious problems with his voice or ears, but Cebrastian still wasn’t quite used to hearing a colt among the sailors. Usually Mbizi was the sailors’ chanteypony, but today he went to the bunkroom and started a game of dice or cards, Cebrastian was not sure how to interpret his loud commentaries that he heard from time to time. So, Goreb set the tune tonight, which was nice – less vulgarities would be heard there. Not that Cebrastian was totally against them, but certainly he had a different mood tonight to listen to such songs.

Cool breeze took zebras short and the crew decided to continue singing in the bunkroom. Cebrastian cloaked himself and sat down near the mainmast. Perfect time and weather for some retrospection. The place, though, was not his favorite, he preferred topmast for meditation, but now it was too well-lit with the masthead lamp. However, here he could also remember the watch which made him so drastically go off his life course one day…

***

…A gallant brigantine entered the port of Majiko under the tactful guidance of a harbor pilot. Every captain knew that the port of Majiko was badly planned, and though the entering fairway was rather wide, it was not the easiest task to get to some distant berths. Many ships needed a tug, not just a pilot. And it was even more difficult to cast off than to moor.

But regardless of port planning there were many lovers of this nice vivid town. A young blank-flank striped sailor from the brigantine was among them, and now, having helped to take in the sails, he was standing at the anchor deck, watching the moorage. He would not be able to run ashore as soon as they moor today, as he had to stand a watch first, but the brigantine was not supposed to cast off before next evening. So, there would be plenty of time for walking around. A long voyage to Coltpenhagen would come afterwards, where they would close the navigation of this season. Repairing works to keep busy while storms tormented the sea – and back again, setting sails for a new voyage, to discover new seas. The sea… Cebrastian smiled. Every time so different, so fickle and yet so vaguely familiar every time one sets the sails.

And this town… So noisy, colorful and lively by the sea and so distantly cold and ceremonial up there on a hill. Cebrastian sometimes walked near those snow-white similar estates of the rich citizens, but the only interesting place around there was a park. And only because he could have some fun, rolling on the short-trimmed grass and being given those outstanding angry looks from the passers-by. They would walk along the lanes in a dignified manner and call their foals to order, so that they would never follow the example of a nasty zebra. The trick was to stop right in time to be able to vanish in the harlequin crowd of the “lower” town before somepony calls the guards. That “lower”, harlequin, varicolored section, reek of sea, fish and spices, was so much different from the ceremonial “upper” snow-white, even bleached section on the hill, that sometimes they seemed to be two completely different towns. The habitants only proved that, as the crowds from different sections tried to stay apart. That was also a sort of fun, to break in, mix them up and confuse those ponies, similarly snobbish in their richness and poverty. And sometimes Cebrastian even could not dare to think of such a blasphemy. He could not explain, just felt when such tricks were inappropriate.

Anyway, he loved the town, with its strange features, its maze of streets, its contrasts. May be because he felt it to be as striped as him. Majiko was not his first foreign port, nor was it the largest yet so special. It always sprang surprises, even when a visitor took a route, learnt long time ago, to the market for example. Several times Cebrastian came across new shops he had never noticed before, or made a wrong turn to end up in a blind alley with a gorgeous mosaic panel on the wall. Or simple went round in circles, though being sure to go the right way.

Today Majiko was not playing with its striped guest, just giving the opportunity to have some pleasant rest before the long inter-season. But time would fly as they would repair the vessel, and as soon as they finished the sea would call again. And Coltpenhagen is a welcoming town as well. It would be easy to spend the winter there.

“All right, fellows, we’re heading for Zebrica tomorrow!” announced the captain the next morning.

Cebrastian, waiting for completely different words, twitched and looked at the captain in deep surprise.

“Sorry, did you say… for Zebrica?” he frowned.

“I did. I’ve just got a message from our last client, he got stuck in Zebrica for some business and asked if we could be so kind to change the destination for him. Cebrastian, I am quite surprised to see you frowning, I though such news must bring you some thrill.”

“It certainly did…”

Eight hours before cast off, some free time now and a watch afterwards. He was planning to go for a last walk around Majiko, but now… now he had to invent a way to make this voyage to Zebrica impossible. He was really not inspired with the “family reunion” the captain implied in his words. What’s more, as he questioned the captain, he learnt, that one very special frigate, Donna Marguerita, has already come to the docks of the Zebrican shipyard. And that shipyard the captain thought to be as good as one in Coltpenhagen. If not for the frigate in docks, or, if not for her captain ashore to be exact, Cebrastian might take a risk and spend a winter in Zebrastan. He had been away in the seas for several years already, and it would be foolish to deny that he missed his homeland a lot. But Donna Marguerita at the docks with her captain ashore made this idea far less desirable. Actually, they made it unattractive at all, as Cebrastian’s beloved granny, being the captain of the most famous pirate ship at the seas, “humbly” named after her, made it quite clear, that Cebrastian better not return home being someone else but a captain.

Among some obviously foolish plans that came to his mind were, for example, an idea to burn the pilot to ashes. Or to put a piece of iron under the compass. Or go below and make a small hole in the hold somewhere a little bit up the waterline. Surely all that wouldn’t do. And it was useless to try to talk captain out of this voyage, they still had to deliver the cargo. Cebrastian had no time to make something that epic to be left ashore, and to be honest, a big pony port was not a desert island where a leader of a mutiny aboard could be sent. Also this stupid change of plans was not worthy of ruining a spotless reputation. That’s why he could not just flee away from his watch. Though he was almost ready to do it.

Cebrastian was standing on the stern, looking at the horizon. He loved this brigantine, knew it hardly worse than the captain and dreamt of changing her only for a ship of his own. She was huge, long and stretched as an arrow, with tall masts and white sails, though worn by winds and storms. Cebrastian could walk on her deck never bumping upon anything or anyone – so well he could feel this ship, powerful, responsive, totally obedient to her skipper. And now… now her striped sailor had no idea how he could make that voyage. Even on board this loyal ship he knew so well. The bell was striking and he still had no idea.

In the evening Cebrastian understood that he could not postpone this voyage for the whole crew without some significant damage to the ship. So he came up to the door of the captain’s cabin, waited for a moment gathering all his courage and knocked. Waited for the permission to come in, entered the cabin and closed the door firmly.

“What’s the matter, striped one?” asked the captain absent-mindedly. He was looking through his charts and the logbook, making notes from time to time, and did not expect any visitors. Suddenly a piece of paper with a shaky text obviously written in a hurry, was put on the table, covering the pilot. The hoof, pressing the paper to the table, left no chance for the captain to blow the strange message to the edge and return to his business. He had to react.

“What the hay is that?” he angrily looked up facing suddenly determined glare of dark-blue eyes.

“A report, captain. I ask your for your permission to stay in Majiko. For the wintering.”

“For the wintering, huh?” the captain leaned back and half-closed his eyes. “And what if I found someone as striped as you while repairing works in Zebrica?”

“So…” zebra’s voice quivered, but Cebrastian pulled himself together quickly. “So be your decision, captain, and I will only be able to accept it.”

“You don’t want to explain yourself as I understood?”

“If you insist…” Cebrastian didn’t seem happy to tell anypony his reasons to come ashore.

“You didn’t run away from home, did you?” captain could have demanded a reply, but he decided to give his sailor some freedom and privacy. Though he really wanted to know why Cebrastian wanted to quit so suddenly.

“No.”

“And your family loves you, always waits for you and will be happy to see you home again?”

“Yes.” Cebrastian lied, but the captain was not quite aware of his striped sailor’s family relations.

“And yet you wish to stay in Majiko?”

“Yes.”

“But your family’s waiting you home!” the captain just could not understand how one may prefer to be away from one’s family having an opportunity to see them.

“Indeed.” Cebrastian spit this word out and looked at the captain. He really didn’t want to explain the whole thing and hoped his intonations made it quite clear.

The captain looked him up and down and signed the report with no more questions. Cebrastain stood still for a moment, looking at the paper and then at the captain with a light smile. He grabbed the report and rushed out without a word. He even didn’t bother to say goodbye to the sailors, just nodded to then. Only did he explain himself to the watch officer as he didn’t want him to think that zebra just carelessly flee away.

He cantered, or even galopped away along the winding port streets and dared not to turn his head. He knew so well, as soon as he gave one single glance at the brigantine, he would not be able to leave her and stay here in the port of Majiko. But he saw them off when sat down on a bench at one of the viewpoints for a quick rest. He watched her set sails that looked golden in the sunset. The next day promised to be fine, as a sailor could judge from the sunset, but Cebrastian was not so sure. He was sitting hunched feeling desperately lonely. A huge piece of his soul was still there, on board, and it seemed that he underestimated the pain this departure could cause.

“It’s not for long, I promise! Just for the winter – and I’ll return there,” he whispered in a steady voice.

The salary of a sailor on board of a ship with quite a large crew could not be enough to stay in Majiko for the good three months, that became obvious very soon. The idea to wait for the new navigation in a unicorn town, where even street cleaners could use magic and sweep with their eyes shut, seemed now even more stupid than it had been while he was finishing the report in a hurry not to lose the courage. Here a plain pony could be of a little use, even a striped one, even being a bit of a shaman. Money went easily, though he tried to economize at all means. Besides, he still could not find a job…

Cebrastian was sitting on a quay berth with his black cape and a saddle bag taken off, broodingly counting the coins in his purse. He knew exactly, there were ten left. Five to send a letter, and five – to have dinner. Probably, his last one, as he was too proud to write honestly to Donna how miserable the state of things was. He actually was more proud than rich all in all, that’s why he’d been going hungry for three days already. Yesterday he came to the local market, but simply could not make himself steal something to eat. He might try to graze, but there was no grass in the “lower” town, as the houses were situated too close, and in the park of the “white” town they mowed the lawn so frequently that it would hardly taste better than the dust of the “lower” town. The whole situation looked rather foolish, and Cebrastian saw no decent solutions. Though he could think of three indecent ones: he could hire himself out to a rich idiot and act like a striped clown, he could attach to a gang of striped “fortune-tellers”, who were more of clowns and thieves, or he could write an honest letter to granny. He was just trying to decide which was safer – to go to the tramps and vagabonds or return to Donna, when somepony exclaimed in a cheerful loud voice behind his back:

“Wow! I’ve never see such cool stripes! Who are you?”

Zebra turned his head to see a little unicorn filly. She looked a bit younger than he, pale-blue with honey-colored eyes and a mane of strange, weird, unnatural color, which Cebrastian found difficult to identify. It was either pink, or peach, looked even close to bright orange in the sun. And all that was coiffured in some sort of a hairdo with lots of curls, locks and braids. Eyes went funny…

“Who are you?” the curious filly asked again.

“I am a great wicked mage and an evil zebra shaman,” replied Cebrastian. “So get out of here, fillip.”

“I’ll see you further first!” the “fillip” was offened. “This port is mine, as well as yours, but if you aren’t happy with anything here – please, feel free to cast off at all the tradewinds, go ahead!”

The “wicked shaman” gazed at her in astonishment, he didn’t expect to hear such words from a little pretty filly.

“So, what the hay are you doing here, o mighty shaman?” the filly asked with a grin. She did not get any reaction to her last phrase, but it seemed she did not need it.

“I’m going to drown myself,” answered Cebrastian in the same spirit.

“You’ll fail it here!” laughed the filly. “It’s a real paddling pool, no one can drown here. My dad even lets me swim here alone. Come along, I’ll show you where to drown yourself. You’re definitely from afar as you don’t know the Deadly Rock!”

“What rock?..”

“Deadly. I call it so, because the waters run so deep there and the waves are huge – wicked! But if you spit out just one word that you saw me swimming there on my own, I’ll drown you right here in this muddy puddle, got it?! And if my dad punishes me because of that, I’ll… I’ll… I don’t know what I’ll do to you, but it would be terrible, I promise!”

The first shock was over and Cebrastian looked closer at his new acquaintance. A sudden understanding stroke him as a lightning – the filly was afraid of him. She was really scared yet curious. He burst into laughter.

“What’s so funny? Are you laughing at me?” the filly seemed offended again, but Cebrastian could not help laughing but tried to shake his head. She snorted, “Way to look like an evil shaman… I am not afraid of you at all!” So, he was absolutely right.

“Should you be afraid?” asked he after a while when he finally stopped laughing.

“My dad says, that if I spoke to a striped pony… Sorry, a zebra shaman, they would hypnotize me, drag me away and paint stripes on my back. And stripes won’t suit me, I’ve tried that already. Can you hypnotize me?” suddenly asked the filly.

“I can.”

“Great! Hypnotize me, please!”

Cebrastian looked into the honey-colored eyes, widely opened now. The filly was thirsty for a new experience. He imagined ordering her to go home and a picture of the filly marching away primly came vivid to his mind. Cebrastian began to laugh again.

“Oh, you’ve ruined it all again!” the filly put down her hoof with anger. “All right, let’s go, I’ll show you where the Deadly Rock is. May be there you will pull yourself together and hypnotize me. So that I will do something cool at the shipyard, get a proper cutiemark, and the master will let me join his brigade. He thinks, I come there to play, and I’m tired of his attitude!”

Cebrastian pricked up his ears, but said nothing. One must never hustle at such a moment, as luck can be easily scared away with the fussy actions in a hurry. Though, the fate was merciful indeed to give the zebra a chance for such an opportunity with this new acquaintance. So, now Cebrastian was thinking how he could make it to go to the shipyard with this filly… The docks were the very first place where he tried to look for a job, of course, but he failed. A stout stallion with orange and black mane, already touched with a light dusting of gray, didn’t give a chance to explain anything. He shouted that loud that even the “white” town must have heard him… Probable the infamy of the striped frauds from the “lower” created a very clear image of zebras in the minds of all, who led a better life here. The echo of his voice ringed in Cebrastian’s ears for the rest of the day then… but there also was a bright side – after such a “welcome” he couldn’t eat a morsel, so it was a great way to save some bits from the dinner. He gave a giggle – after three days of hunger all the thoughts returned to meals…

On their way to the Deadly Rock the unicorn filly relaxed a bit. She probably thought that if no one hypnotized her at once, no one would do it now to ponynap and sell. So she talked a lot, telling Cebrastian about herself, her family, the shipyard and the town. He even felt grateful to this chatterbox, as her voice drew his thought away from the gloominess of the future. By the time they reached the rocky coast and settled on a big rock, he already knew that her name was Mistflower, her father was the head of the shipyard and it was exactly the very pony who shouted at Cebrastian some time ago. And both of them, Mistflower and Cebrastian, shared opinion on this mister Astiero. His daughter often disagreed with her father, unlike her elder sister Mayflower. And even was bold enough to tell that in her father’s face. As Cebrastian understood, Astiero was the first from his family to become rich enough to enter this… elite of the “white” town. And now he was very afraid to lose his reputation and influence there. Well, in some ways zebra did understand the motifs of that unicorn, but his methods? Cebrastian was not at all sure he would approve of. So didn’t Mistflower, who didn’t like, for example, her father’s plan to find her a rich and respectable husband from the “whiters”. She might be “little princess” for her father but definitely had her own views and plans for her life.

And then she jumped into the water from the rock. She wasn’t the best swimmer in the world and didn’t dare to swim far away from the shore, but anyway she swam. And glanced at Cebrastian from time to time, inviting him to join her without saying a word. He did not dare to dive, as the place was not familiar to him, so he came down from the rock and entered the sea carefully and slowly. The waters ran deep here, indeed, but this made the place even greater. Why hadn’t he ever gone outside the town of Majiko before?! Well, when the brigantine came here he usually had plenty of other places to go, and with this… life crisis he never thought of… hiking and camping around, but… But now it would be nice to find a cave here, may be? A lovely cave that might give him shelter and the sea… can give fish and seaweed for food. Cebrastian was not very good at fishing, but he had plenty of time to practice now. He smiled. Bad idea it was to try to find a job so hard, that he never thought of any other ways of surviving. Good that he hadn’t written a letter to granny, she would not be happy with that. Actually, she would laugh a lot first, and then… she would write a poem in return, saying how foolish her grandson was. And all the scholars would fight to get a chance to explore such an example of zebra folklore – this masterpiece, full of metaphors and sarcasm. If only they could read it in the first place, of course…

Cebrastian climbed a rock, a big stone, actually, in the middle of this small bay. This place must be even more charming in stormy weather. Wild and mighty… He almost could imagine that. Yes, he really must come here during storm one day, if he managed to solve his surviving problems. But now the sea was soothing and calming and whispered something, promising brightness in the future. Cebrastian thought he could meditate here, probably… He quit meditation practice since he got to Majiko, so… high time, sure! But Mistflower already got ashore and impatiently pranced on the rock, waving her tail to get his attention. Cebrastian smiled – she looked so funny now with all her hairdo soaking wet. This… style suit her better though, as he thought. More true to her character at least. So he jumped back into the water, deliberately making a big splash and swam towards the shore.

She didn’t hesitate a moment to take his cape and use it as a plaid, and now was prancing around her saddle-bags to get carrot salad, apple juice and other snacks out. Cebrastian felt not at ease, as he knew he had nothing to add to this spontaneous picknic apart from the cape itself. But Mistflower wasn’t bothered by such small things. She actually was much more bothered by the fact her new friend was too slow in getting out of the sea. She sat on the cape as if not two little foals were going to have a picnic on the rocky seashore, but at least two aristocrats were having a very formal dinner at the Gala. And only her snorting made clear how impatient she really was… But as a daughter of a noble family she could not think of breaking the etiquette rules and start eating without all the others gathered at the table. Even if it meant a zebra sitting down on a cape.

“How rude of you, sir, to make a lady wait for you at the ready-laid table!” she made a very offended face, even pursed her lips. And Cebrastian even truly believed… till she gave a giggle, ruining her snobbish image in a moment.

“I am so sorry for my manners, noble lady”, well, two can play this game, surely, “but I humbly hope a stranger from a far-away land could ask to forgive his mishap”.

Now it was her turn to be stunned, and Cebrastian counted a score in his favour. One-one, small lady! You did not expect a zebra to be talking like this, did you?

“Well, you are even cooler than you seem!” she murmured at last. “Hey! Wait a moment, a stranger from a far-away land! You haven’t introduced yourself! Is it because dark wizards and shamans can do bad things to a pony knowing the name? Father always says I must take care, but there are no real dark wizards here in Majiko, so… Forget about it!”

“Nope”, the “dark wizard and shaman” laughed. “No pony could be safe in that case then. So don’t worry.”

“I never do!” she put her nose in the air. “But why didn’t you say your name then?”

“You were such a chatterbox I can hardly remember it now!” he just could help sticking out his tongue at her. “Cebrastian. My name is Cebrastian.”

“That doesn’t sound much of a true zebra’s name…” she was… disappointed, he guessed.

“Not every zebra has to be Hatari or Ukufara. There must be at least someone on the whole continent with a normal name.”

“I was only worried I would not be able to remember. Or pronounce it right”, she snorted with offence, this time, probably even real.

“Yeah… Donna Margot also thinks that a sailor must have a simple name. Or at least a name that a captain can simplify”, he also snorted.

“Who is that… Donna Margot?” she had to ask. Just had to.

“My granny”, for some reason it was very easy to answer her. And it was also easy… not to notice the food on the cape, talking. Mistflower also didn’t start her lunch, listening to her new mate she finally made to talk. “Well, that’s not her real name, but she thinks this one is much more convenient. Especially when grappling a ship. Her poor sailors… she always shortened their names.”

“And what about yours? Did she simplify it too?”

“Let me think…” Cebrastian made a very broody face. “Sort of, I believe? Can Striped Stupid be counted?”
He looked at her, but that was definitely not enough to make her stunned again. Actually, she frowned.

“You’re kidding me!”

“Not really. I am… not telling you the whole story. Sort of…”

“Then let me guess, let me guess! I know! She used to call you Rasti, did she?!”

“Sometimes. But mostly she called me Wampu. It… well, it does mean something close to Stupid, I suppose.”

She laughed, definitely not believing in a zebra granny who could be that mean to her own grandson.

“Well, May, my sister, also keeps telling me to think more of my manners. And even calls me Tontuella. It… is also close to Stupid, hm. And she thinks that must be, you know, really offensive for a lady! Guess what? I-DON’T-CARE!” she pronounced that with a sort of a pride, as if using such words could help her to express all the feelings she had to hide. It was funny to notice how a real Mistflower got through this mask of a noble lady from time to time. She still did not know zebra well enough and was not ready to trust him one hundred percent. But – she really wanted to, he could see.

Slight breeze delivered the smell of baked apples to Cebrastian. Mist had not taken them out yet, but they definitely were there, in her bag. Great ancestors, that was really too much after three days of hunger!

“Oh, how silly of me! Sorry, I sometimes do chat a lot. Do you like apples? Actually… What do zebras usually eat?..”

Cebrastian thought to himself that after three days zebra could eat up anything…

“That’s very kind of you. I am not hungry, thanks.”

She half-closed her eyes and snorted.

“Rasti, that was really rude of you! Rude and nasty... Nasty-Rasti!”

“Why, by ancestors?” he was… surprised with her reaction.

“Don’t try to make your… wampum thing from me! Listen here, o mighty shaman. I am going to turn away and count to ten. And when I turn again – I will see no apples here, understood? And I-DON’T-CARE what sort of your zebra magic you will use. Only try it to be more successful than you hypnosis, or else...”

“But…”

“And… ONE!”

He smiled and took an apple. She counted to seven to assure he would not put the apple back untouched and stopped.

“Much better! Well, there is not much of a lunch, you know… I did not think I was going to meet anyone today. And no one wants to have lunch with me at the shipyard, so now I only take food for myself. But Nanny Grey helps me to pack lunch and she usually puts a lot of tasty things. Though I try to do it all by myself. My father doesn’t approve when I come to the port. Less ponies know where I go – the better. But Nanny Grey never gives away my secrets!”

“Who is Nanny Grey?” he had to keep the small talk flowing, but could not think of any appropriate question.

“Our tutoress. For me and May. Mummy says she is as good as gold, of little import that her mane is already all silver. I don’t know what that means… Anyway… She believes in me and helps to escape when father locks me up. But don’t think my father is that bad! He… He just sticks to his plan. And gets really upset when something goes off his control. And… Oh, he is so funny when he is upset! I just can’t help it, I laugh! And… well, I also have my own plans for life, sorry, sir! Nanny Grey says, one must never follow other ponies’ expectations.”

Cebrastian shivered, but kept silent.

“For example, nopony expected my father to become rich. And now look! We live in the white town! Our father worked a lot to get it all. Pity though that he is so stubborn! He loves us and want the best for us, but why doesn’t he see?.. He started to take Mayflower to the port with him to pass the shipyard to her one day… But May doesn’t want it! She doesn’t even love ships! She wants to become a lady. You should see how much she knows about style, and fashion, and manners, and stuff! She can sit all day long and do an embroidery for a dress. A leaf with billions of shades! Oh my, if I sat for so long as she does, I’d get pain in my butt!!!” she stopped short and glanced at Cebrastian. That word was even more… not suitable for a lady, surely.

“Yeah. I’d kick the bucket too!” he smiled.

She laughed and relaxed. It is always easy to trust someone who can understand. And shares the thoughts. Or at least – baked apples.

Cebrastian was slowly eating another apple and watching the sea – greyish blue right now, but he knew it would turn black very soon. The season of storms was coming… But it did not seem a problem anymore. He had never spent it in Majiko, but… It would be just a new experience. Nothing scary for sure. He has a week or two to find a cave here, even to make it more comfortable. It would be fine.

The unicorn filly and the zebra were sitting together on the cape. And there was a caravel entering the harbor. They could see her from their Deadly Rock. There would be more of those in a few days, as they were coming to the docks for the winter repairing works. Mistflower half-closed her eyes.

“Oh, I love ships! I adore ships! Look, isn't this one gorgeous, is it?”

“She”, the sailor corrected her automatically. “The ship can never be an it, only she.”

“She,” Misty agreed. “So… Are you a very real sailor then? And why are you here, in our dull port then? Alone…”

Cebrastian thought that the only reason for that was that he was a very real idiot, nothing more.

“I… well, I love Majiko. And the season of storms will come soon.”

“Not telling the whole story again? How can I trust you if you don’t tell me important things about you? I will be offended. I must be offended, as you are rude again! And don’t even try to make it up this time, I am serious and I-DON’T-CARE! And I won’t say a word to you for five whole minutes! No… Five minutes are way too long! Ok, let’s pretend that I haven’t spoken to you for ages already! Do you smoke a pipe?”

“N-nope… why?..” he got caught by surprise with this sudden question.

“All real sailors smoke pipes!” she said with confidence. Cebrastian sighed and thought that she would never believe that he actually could be a sailor. “But I agree with you… Smoking is not tasty at all. And father was really upset when caught me trying once. And even Nanny Grey was angry with me.”

Cebrastian paid all his attention to the baked apple. He hoped she would change topic again. But she kept silent and the pause was getting longer. Way longer than a polite pause in a small talk could be.

“My… My granny smokes a pipe. But I still don’t like this awful smell. Especially in her cabin on board of her frigate. I believe even the wood there carries that smell!”

“Ship Wright says it is relaxing and looks cool”, she said broodingly. “But I still don’t like Ship Wright. He’s an idiot and a sleaze bag. He runs after Mayflower and buddies up to my father…”

She took out a flatbread out of the bag and broke.

“Are you sure?” Cebrastian asked when she offered him a half.

“Well… I am? We only made one today with Nanny, sorry.”

“No… I mean, are you sure you want to break bread with a zebra shaman? Especially the one you cooked almost by yourself…”

“Is that some kind of a ritual?” she prickled up her ears and sat closer.

“We… are not really used to share bread with anyone around. We usually do it when some new zebra enters the tribe. There is something magical behind it, but, sorry, not really into all that stuff. Or… well, when foals accept a new one in their company, yes…”

“Then what are we waiting for? I am sure, that I want to break bread with you, Rasti!” she gave him his part. “So, what must we do now?!”

“Usually the one who made the bread is the first to take a bite.”

She looked at him with suspence, but bit the bread. She looked… unimpressed with the result, certainly, waiting for... some magic, may be? Zebra smiled gently and bit his half…

The whole world went dark for a moment in his eyes, and when he could see clearly again, he realized that… Something had changed. He felt as if someone broke the world into pieces, mixed them up and made it whole again though having changed some minor details in this puzzle.

“You said… you made it with Nanny Grey, this bread?..”

“Yeah… I even took it out of the oven by myself today… Usually she won’t let me near the hot oven, but she agreed I could use my magic…”

“Your magic… definitely gave a curious shade of taste to the whole thing…”

She blushed and turned away to look for something in her bag. Or to pretend to look for. Lightly pinkish shade on her light-blue cheeks looked… cute. Cebrastian did not stare, though he could now see much smaller details in her look. That was… weird. And he never experienced any feeling like that before. Well… he definitely should have listened to granny when she warned that a shaman must never start a ritual if he does not understand how it turns out. Especially alone…
They tried to return to their small talk, but it certainly failed. Mistflower was mostly trying to listen to her… new self, and Cebrastian actually wondered if she could really feel any difference. But that was a rude and quite an intimate question indeed. Usually shamans let the zebras accept the changes by themselves. Take some time… And only in case of trouble they could interfere and correct something. Gently… But Cebrastian did not know how much time to wait. Or what “trouble” needed correction. He should have listened to granny with more attention, he should have!

“And they are of two colours, hm!” Mistflower said broodingly. Caught his glance and explained, “Your stripes. They are of two colours”.

“Oh! Yeah, they are. And there are four shades in your mane…”

“So that it looks rosange”.

“Pardon?..”

“Rosange. It is the new season colour trend. A wonderful mix of orange and rose blending together, didn’t you know? I am lucky to have a naturally pink mane, so I only had to add a few accents. Poor May! Her mane is very dark, almost black! She has so much pain with dyeing every time!”

“Why should she do it then?..”

“You cannot just ignore fashion trends, silly! In the white town it is called mauvaix ton”.

He did not find what to answer, and she also kept silent for some time. The clouds were flowing in the sky and the wind was playing with the tails and manes. Misflower was a mixture of smells, as Cebrastian could now tell – her vanilla perfume, and some bread and caramel from the kitchen. Those made her smell of a cosy home. And there were the smells of wood shavings and the varnish. She certainly spent a lot of time at the docks! Those were… cosy too.

“Let’s go to the shipyard?” she asked. “I try to take my friends to the yard every day, but they always refuse. And I feel a bit lonely… I mean, there are the ships, of course, but when no one can share their glory it is… sad, you know…”

Cebrastian nodded and helped her to pack. Oh yes… Share the glory. He – knew.

Mistflower galloped along the quay, so that he could hardly follow the pace. And at the same time she chatted all the way long. About everything: what a gorgeous frigate is now at the dock, and what great workers there are, except for Ship Wright, of course, he is an idiot, and how much she wants to build her own boat one day, as she even has the drawings! Cebrastian listened with a smile. That filly was… active, oh yes, she was!

Then she stopped suddenly in front of the big wooden gate, got her hairdo into the ideal state and pushed the doors open. There were lots of workers at the shipyard, they shouted to each other, somepony was levitating wood, others were coating it with tar. It was a very noisy place, but this loud noise seemed to Cebrastian as soothing as the whisper of the sea. Good old noise of a shipyard!

They got down to business, just because somepony shouted for a helping hoof, and Cebrastian did not even notice how it all happened that they got totally carried away by this work. And in the evening Mistflower just introduced him to an old unicorn, the forepony of the workers, and stated the fact that from now on Cebrastian works here, at the yard. Naviero, that was the name of the unicorn, said nothing and did not even try to argue. But one of the carpenters, Ship Wright himself, as Cebrastian learned a bit later, opposed. He either didn't feel “missy Mist’s” state of mind, or, probably, was of the same opinion about zebras as her father. What an icy-cold lady the little light-blue filly could be if needed! Cebrastian was impressed by the tone of her voice and the words she found to explain that it was none of Ship Wright’s business. He had no choice but to step aside and watch Naviero, showing to the zebra a tiny cabin which the dockers used to store old cables, ropes and lines. If the forepony hoped to scare zebra away with the living conditions, he knew nothing about Cebrastian, who warmly thanked master Naviero and entered his new, a little funny living space. Well, nopony expects an apartment when comes to work at the yard!

And there came the winter season, which brought a lot of ships to the docks. And after that came a little plywood boat with a hole in her shell, and the blue chips on the shore… And nopony knew how the fate of Cebrastian himself would turn out without this wintering, but the decision to stay in Majiko was certainly a turning point in his life…

“All right, done, let it go!” Cebrastian raised his head and stepped aside.

Mistflower, who was leaning on the sheet of plywood to push it to the stiffener with all her weight, smiled and pranced back to pay a look at the result of their efforts. The sun was slowly hiding behind the horizon and the shipyard of Majiko was covered in the mild shades of the evening dusk. The day turned out to be quite productive for the young carpenters as they got the sides almost done and the bottom covered with tar today.

“Well, I guess, it’s time for you to go home,” Cebrastian came closer to her and sat down looking at the sun. “Your father won’t be amused if he finds out you have been to the shed again. And besides there isn’t anything left to do for today. We now only have to wait for the tar to dry, and I can clean the place by myself.”

“I’d prefer not to go home… Let’s better, I don’t know, finish the mast? Or polish the oar?” Mistflower sighed. “Father said he was going to work late hours today anyway. The sooner we finish our project, the sooner I will be able to show him, that I can also do a lot at the shipyard. That it is not only my dream and caprice – to build ships, but the true vocation. And fillies can be meant not only to create nice atmosphere at home or sit by a noble richpony. I will show him… I will show them all!”

“No”, Cebrastian stood up and shook his head. “I see your point, I really do, but it is time for you to go home. No works left for today, Mist.”

“Are you kidding?!” the filly jumped on her legs. “As if I cannot see that it is not true, there is plenty of things we could do. How rude of you to tell a lie looking right into my eyes! You should never do that.”

“I should never,” he sighed but agreed. “But should you stay in the port at such a time? It is late.”

“Oh, stop it, please! You act like my father with his shoulds and lates and stuff. I-DON’T-CARE!”

“And if you continue acting like you are doing now, I will get a cutiemark of some kind of a babysitting stuff. This could ruin by brilliant captain’s career! Future career, I mean,” he tried to sound seriously, but she knew there was a smile deep in his eyes.

“Well then, o brilliant captain-with-a-wrong-cutiemark, I guess in this case I will have no choice but to get some kind of a noble lady stuff on my poor flank and sit here in this dull port of Majiko with you. Ok, you won this time, Nasty-Rasti. I’m going home…”

The evening shipyard was lid with this golden dusk and gradually falling asleep. The sea was whispering a lullaby, the wind was playing a tune with the rig of the ships at the shipyard, the lights were preparing for their night watch.

“We shall be painting her soon,” said Cebrastian as they were walking along the pier.

“Not a problem! I saw such a blue colour at the warehouse the other day. Do you think we can blend it so that…”

“I will make the exact shade of yours, I promise,” he said seriously. “But don’t you think we should tell your father that we, umm… take materials from him? Without permission…”

“Oh, who cares about those leftovers!” she laughed. “And even if somepony does, do you think daddy won’t forgive some plywood and paint for his dear princess Mistfluffy?”

Cebrastian smiled in return, but those words did not calm him down. He thought the worries were connected with that feeling of stealing and cheating, but it turned out the problem was somehow deeper. He accompanied Mist to the quay and stood there for some time seeing her off. He still had to do the cleaning but this weird feeling was bothering his soul. He went to pier to ask the sea and the wind, but got no answers today. Something was to happen though, he knew that. Anyway, he returned to their secret workshop, as the cleaning could never be done on its own unfortunately.
He tripped over at the door, nearly fell. And – looked down frowning. Something was already happening, as, for example there could not be that light from under the door. Zebra was careful to blow all the candles before he went to see Misty off.

The door opened suddenly revealing angry Naviero behind it. Cebrastian laid back his ears.

“No wonder you’ve nearly been falling asleep at work lately! Of course, if you take so many additional shifts without giving yourself any time to rest, you will go belly up some day. Are you crazy?!” he suddenly shouted. Cebrastian lowered his head. “Don’t you understand the consequences, colt?! You are digging you own grave now, and not only because you don’t rest enough physically. I told you, don’t get mixed up with this silly filly, didn’t I?”

“Mistflower. Her name is Mistflower. And one day this will be the name of the best ship builder here.”

“Ship builder, seriously?.. From this junk? You foals better go and glue some toy-boats then. If she gets a mark with some sort of tool – then I would be surprised. How do you know this isn’t a bee in a bonnet of a rich daddy-princess?”

“I believe,” simply answered Cebrastian with a smile. “Now could you please let me enter? I’ve got some cleaning to do here before I go get… some rest.”

“He believes, huh… And if your direct boss, I mean me, orders you to run to your bed to saw wood at once?”

“You are not my direct boss at this shift, sorry,” zebra gave a laughter and sneaked into the workshop.

Naviero spit out some curses, but did not try to insist and left Cebrastian alone. His words were bitter. Blunt. Offensive. Rude. But… true? Cebrastian sighed. Of course, the unicorn was right. And no one can be that careless and stupid not understand that all this… thing. Is going to have consequences. He asked a very good question, Naviero. How did he know… How could he trust… When did he begin to trust?..

Sweeping the floor can be very meditative… A sweep – a day… Cebrastian was remembering… All. Sweep by sweep. Day by day…

There was a talk. A talk that he once overheard. Misty once came to shipyard very exited, brought her father to the drafting board and pinned some pictures. Astiero was listening with an absent-minded smile, till the moment when Mist said she was going to build the boat from the drawings. The older unicorn got mad, and shouted a lot. He nearly forbade Mistflower to do that, moreover, he forbade the workers to mix up and help.
Cebrastian came across Mist the exact same evening, in a distant shed on his way to the cabin. She was struggling with a spar. He could swear it was the very spar that he threw to the pile of trash in the morning, as he could see the horrible snubs.

“If you want to use this spar so much you will have to cut the snubs out first. You can do nothing with simple shaving here…” he said stopping at the doors.

She raised her head and Cebrastian felt himself levitating upside down in her magic field. They exchanged quick glances and he asked:
“Could you please put me down? I am not a pegasus after all, I am not quite used to such positions.”

She pursed her lips, but cancelled the spell. Zebra thanked the granny’s training sessions in his thoughts as he could brace himself and not fall down as a bag of oats.

“So… we were chatting about the snubs?” she came up to him and asked.

It happened… a month or so ago. And it was a very bumpy start as at first they expected each other to run to Astiero and give away their small secret project. But time passed and they got much more relaxed in their workshop. She started to come more frequently and he got used that after work he had a “night shift”. But also his… nomad zebra nature woke up. Probably, giving those thoughts full of worries.

Cebrastian sighed. Their small plywood boat could not work as a ticket to seafaring. But was a living dream, a hope that one day winter would be over and the brigantine would return, and he would be back at ease again. The shed seemed tiny today… But it was too early to dream of the voyage. They had to finish their project first. Or paint at least.

“Just open up your eyes, you, Nasty-Rasti! Look, it is not even near to what we want!”

Mistflower puffed her cheeks in offence after comparing her light-blue fur with a painted stroke on a piece of plywood.

“And if you try to compare them from the outside it would look even more different,” he smiled in return and patiently added some more white paint to the mixture. Took a brush and made one more stroke. “We must be happy with what we have… As we’ve taken all the blue and white leftover paint we could find. I hope our boat will be evenly covered with paint at all…”

“It’s very trendy, the mélange!” she gave a giggle, but tried to stay in the spot of light so that he could compare better. The zebra was totally in the process… If he leaned a bit lower, his mane could replace his brush, she thought.

“You mean, I don’t have to sit here struggling?!” Cebrastian tried to make a surprised and offended face. She laughed.

“Hey, you promised me to blend the very same colour! I never demanded. Moreover, I think we could have started long ago… It’s getting darker. And the paint smells… I’m afraid I’ll faint any minute! And spoil your precious samples!”

“Be patient then!” he giggled. “I am starting to get curious. Sort of. Which shade will we come to with our… rich palette.”

“Admit it, Rasti, you just do not want to break your word… Beware, though! You do not want to get a mark of a painter, do you? At least that blue spot on your flank does not look pretty to be there for ages!”

“It’s definitely not… Hey! Wait! Look! This is it! The colour we were trying to blend. Let’s start… and pray we won’t be off supply in the middle of the work. I won’t be able to repeat all that even if all the spirits of the world helped me!”

“I offered it six strokes ago… You never listen, Nasty-Rasti!” she smiled and got herself a brush as well.

It took another three days for the paint to dry completely and also to finish all the small details they could think of. So in three days Mist came to shipyard early and exited. She was trying to help everyone at the same time and hardly could wait for the working day to be over.

Cebrastian watched her and frowned. The day before she told him she was going to show her father their boat. Well, she knew him better, but he remembered how he shouted when she only showed him the pictures and drawings…

“Come on! He just doesn’t like pure dreaming! When he sees the real thing… And the result… He will be proud, I tell you!”

“Are you sure I have to come with you as well?” he even went to pier and jumped into the water. To take a shower after working day, as he explained. The real reason was, though that he tried to win some time before the great moment.

“Well… now you are wet, but it changes nothing in your looks! I mean, you are still awesome.”

Cebrastian sighed. Still a zebra… He was still a zebra anyway. A blast of wind seemed icy-cold, even though the season of storms was coming to an end by now…

They slowly made their way to the workshop. Cebrastian was looking absent-mindedly at the ships. They were floating on the waves having put their masts high in the air…

There was a waiting crowd near the place. Father looked angry, so Mist got out of step for a moment. Ship Wright was standing nearby with a grin on his face. Cebrastian looked around. There were many workers coming. Waiting for a… show.

“I knew I was taking quite a risk hiring you, striped one. Your kind is always a law unto themselves. But I thought there was a bit of sanity in you… to step out of other savages.” Cebrastian could hear giggles, but to pay a glance to all those enjoying Astiero’s anger he had to turn his back to Astiero himself. Which was… impolite. The unicorn then turned to his daughter. “I am very disappointed with you, young lady. I thought I made it clear last time we talked about your caprice.”

She nodded and bit her lips not to burst into tears here, in front of workers. Astiero pursed his lips paid another angry glance at Cebrastian and went away to show that he was not going to change his mind or continue to talk. After a few steps he turned around and said:

“And I hope you all will draw conclusions from the situation, will you? I don’t want any more secret projects at my shipyard.”

Mistflower looked sadly at Cebrastian and followed her father slowly to the gate. Cebrastian turned to see her off. She must have felt it, the support, as she pranced, outran her father giving him a slope of tail on his back and ran forward with her nose high in the air. Cebrastian giggled and thought that now he could also return to his cabin.

“The striped one doesn’t lose his time! Hey, savage, have you already chosen a name for your great project?”

The voice came from somewhere behind, so Cebrastian trampled first and only then turned to look. Ship Wright slowly got back onto his feet and spit some blood on the ground. Looked like Cebrastian hit him in the face. Zebra looked around, thinking if this would be a start of a massive fight. But Ship Wright only spit once more, scorched his face and slurred:

“Savage as is.”

Next day Mist did not come to docks, neither did she appear for two more days. Her absence made the shipyard so lonely, that the nomad inside howled about quitting it all in a moment and going anywhere else. There was a problem, though. Cebrastian kept some of his belongings in the workshop, so he had to enter it. And see the boat again… He was not ready to do it at all.

Mistflower showed up three days after the presentation which went so terribly wrong. Cebrastian was surprised to see the angry filly in his cabin late in the evening with her saddle bags packed standing ready nearby.

“Help me to float out our boat!”

“Pardon?..”

“Our boat, are you listening? I don’t know how to set sails and all those ropes… Don’t stare at me, help! I’m running away from home. My father just won’t listen, he only can discuss my marriage and the stuff. Come on, may be he has already noticed that I am not at home.”

“I’m going with you. Give me a second, I just need to take my bag. And pack a few things at the workshop. Why are you now staring at me? You have just told me that you know nothing about sailing. And yet you want to go at night. You need a skipper, I suppose.”

She thought for a moment and nodded. Together they opened the doors of the shed. Mistflower took a deep breath and cast a levitation spell. The boat floated towards the pier and almost reached the sea, when another magic field grabbed control of the spell and threw the boat down, onto the near stone. Cebrastian looked with his eyes wide opened from shock at the hole in the plywood shell and light-blue chips burst around. Mistflower threw her saddle bags down and looked defiantly at her father, who was galloping towards them.

“Young lady, how is that possible?! I… I was so sure of your sanity, but found you at the port again, with a companion totally inappropriate for a lady of your rank! I am sending you to college! As soon as possible! I just have no other choice!”

“Neither have I,” whispered Cebrastian in a low but clear voice. He picked up a few chips from the ground as if he wanted to remember every detail. “How can I work and repair ships for someone who could do such a thing with one of them?.. I won’t set a hoof here ever again! Count me out!”

“That’s totally not a problem!” Astiero snorted with even some sort of relief.

“Fine!” Cebrastian grinned.

They exchanged quick glances with Mistflower and he smiled at her with support. Courage, my friend, life’s not over because of some old buck. Cebrastian walked towards the gate. He wanted to leave without looking back, but stopped at the gate and turned. Two silhouettes were standing in the dusk at the pier. The smaller one waved him with the tail. Cebrastian saluted in response and galloped out of the gate to the quay of Majiko lid by the golden sunset light.

A warm blast of wind got caught in his mane and whispered something soothing, the lights, ready to stand their night watch, winked as he galloped by. The quay was smooth under the hooves promising a new way for him…

***

A low cough got Cebrastian out of his nostalgia. Golden rays of dawn blinded for a moment and then reality came back.

“Maybe I could put a little effort and assure myself that you were meditating all night long. But our new cabin colt is an early bird as far as I know. And you owe me a lot as I woke you up before he did. Although I would love to hear what you would murmur in your excuse, it is not appropriate of a captain to fall asleep on watch. Especially a self-imposed one,” Goreb gave a laugh and puffed at his pipe.

“At least I made no raffling noises at the galley tonight!” Cebrastian stretched and stood up.

“But I would still punish you. Just in case… Ok, let us pretend that I’ve taken over. As normal.”

“Tide’s rising… I think, I’ll go wake the crew up. Time to cast off. And I will try to alter our course. Let's try to recapture the night we lost. I believe if we round the isles from the west we can get some steady winds sooner than with our usual route. So, we set the sails, leave the harbor and then go large until we reach the cape. Round the cape and there go quarter wind.”

“Sounds good. Don’t forget to show me the pilot after breakfast. I hope you won’t boycott breakfast?”

“Hey! I never boycotted meals…”

“Yup! Captain only kept a fast and prayed for fair winds for us all!”

Cebrastian thought that is was high time to check what tales Mbizi invents about him. But for now he only sighed and looked at the cabin colt, who was fresh and ready for the new day.

“So, you really are an early riser, blank flank? Or you jumped up for a reason today?”

“Mbizi said he was going to teach me to cook today!”

“A good reason, indeed. And where is this shamelor then?”

“Snoozing, captain!”

“Is he?” Cebrastian snorted with laughter. “Or may be sleeping?”

Ned became confused with response and zebras laughed lightly.

“Oh you blank flank! Relax. When you make some voyages with us you will learn how to answer without delays if the captain asks a tricky question. The next stage would be not to provoke them at all. May your choice of words be wise so no questions will arise. When you learn to choose them right you will feel their inner might. It means that you should really mark the words and phrases here onboard Hippotigris, colt – what do you say as well as what do others say. And more important, how it is all said. This may help you a lot with zebras. But to communicate with ponies it is also a good skill.” Cebrastian looked at the cabin colt as well as at the sailors, slowly waking up and gathering on the deck, and smiled. “Good morning, striped ones! Set the staysail, set the main! Let’s move, Coltpenhagen has been waiting for us for ages already!”

Coltpenhagen, hm... Coltpenhagen again. The port they were... supposed to go after Majiko those days. And now again... Nostalgia. This is only nostalgia, nothing more.

Author's Note

Hatari - adventurist (kiswahili language)
Ukufara - godless (kiswahili language)