The Ghost of Coltistrano

Darrox revealed all he knew of his ailment. He noted other times it came up, lasting only a few days at the most. That was three months ago.

He laid in his makeshift bed throughout the day, where Silver cared for him when not consumed by his training. Darrox’s once-vibrant streaks of chitin lost some of their luster, and ever move made his hooves tremble, even struggling to drink from a canteen. When he found the strength to speak it was low, barely breaching beyond his lips and into Silver’s trained ears. Silver remained undeterred and did all he could to make Darrox comfortable.

Every day Silver would take a moment to stare out over the ocean, the sending stone heavy in hoof, scanning the horizon for ships or any signs of life. Only a little was revealed to him of who the other stone belonged to. Darrox described him as an ally and friend from the old days, a stalwart companion through his years of adventuring, but as these early morning searches piled up Silver found himself wondering if this “old friend” had kicked the bucket before Darrox did. He pushed the thought away. At night he found himself out by the fire waiting, until he would eventually drift off to sleep, using the cloak for warmth against the cool night breeze.

“What’s ‘dis, then?” The muffled voice caused Silver to stir, along with the sound of grinding sand and other voices joining in.

“Cool it, dirt-brain, it’s just some pony.” Silver’s eyes shot open and met the form of a gryphoness standing over him, the source of the scratchy voice. She was tall, taller than him, with a score of snow-white feathers up her neck and head and covered in toned muscle. He scanned the beach quickly, finding the shapes of other creatures in his still-focusing vision. The gryphoness turned her head and shouted at the pony’s eyes meeting hers. “Woah no, he’s alive!”

Silver, on instinct, whipped out one end of the cloak and wrapped her head, pulling her down onto the sand. The struggle brought the attention of the others and, with Silver’s vision fully returned, he saw a menagerie of ponies, gryphons, a diamond dog, and one very big minotaur, all soon surrounding Silver. Those with claws to hold with pointed swords at him, with some ponies flapping their wings and others digging their hooves into the sand. By a quick count, there were eight surrounding Silver. The minotaur, broad and sporting a deep ginger coat, bellowed out to the cornered pony. “Give it up, grass-fed, you’re surrounded.”

“How kind of you,” Silver began, smirking. “To relieve me the burden of aiming.”

Two pegasi charged from different angles. Silver launched from his hooves, clearing the ground and causing the two pegasi to collide before crashing onto them with all four hooves, unprepared to be bucked by the earth pony charging him. Silver toppled over the sand into the claws of a gryphon trio who clamored to pin him down. The cloth of the cloak shot out around one of their swords, yanking it from the gryphon’s grasp and sending the pommel straight into another’s beak.

The gryphoness recovered, standing to see the minotaur begin to charge with both of his glistening horns facing forward, and Silver too busy dispatching the gryphons to dodge the bone-shaking impact of the minotaur’s head on his back. Silver grabbed hold for dear life, but the minotaur hoisted Silver from the ground and flung him back towards the water. As he soared, though, the gryphoness leapt and caught him by the cloak, beating her powerful wings to spin mid-air and send Silver straight into the sand with a loud thud. Before he could recover, a rumbling in the sand caught his attention. He flipped over just in time to see a massive paw shoot up from the soft earth and strike him right on the jaw. The diamond dog climbed from his hole in the beach and joined the rest of the crew. Silver recovered quickly, before something heavy collided with the back of his skull. He doubled over, clutching his head, as a gravelly voice called out.

“What be all the comotion, eh?” It squawked. “I send ye ingrates with a simple laundry list a’ chores to do, and what do I find? Roughhousin’ with the locals!”

Silver turned his aching head enough to see a thick glass bottle on the sand next to him, thrown by the nearing image of a large, patchy and black-feathered gryphon in a tricorn hat. Silver tried to stand, the bump making him woozy, as the gryphon took hold of the cloak and pulled it from the dizzy earth pony. Silver was yanked into the gryphon’s face.

“I’ve seen this before,” he said firmly, his voice just barely coming in over the waves. “What’ve ye done to ‘im?”

“Wha…” Silver tried to reply.

“I said.” The gryphon pushed Silver to the ground, placing a large, gangly claw over his chest. “What’ve ye done to ‘im?! Ye dare wear his adornments, flitz about as if ye were ‘im? Ye’r gonna take me to ‘im. Now!”

Silver could only squirm under the gryphon’s powerful claw, the jagged points now digging into this flesh. He nodded convincingly enough for the claw to be lifted as he rose from the sand. All around the band of invaders eyed him, nursing their wounds. The gryphoness walked to him with a glare. “You heard him, dweeb. Mush!”

She slapped the back of his head, right on top of the growing welt left by the bottle. Silver stumbled a bit before correcting, slowly making his way across the beach. “Are you his friend?” Silver directed coolly to the black gryphon.

“Well, I sure as winter ain’t yer’s. Hope to it, ya bilge rat!” A slap on Silver’s back punctuated his demand, causing him to wince. The site of the wreck came into view. The gryphon picked up his pace as well, soon surpassing Silver and beginning to jog up to the crude ramp.

“I don’t get it.” The gryphoness next to Silver stated. “I thought there was supposed to be treasure on this speck.”

“Shut it, missy,” the captain directed. “What lies in this ‘ere wreck is worth more than gold.”

Silver turned to the gryphoness and delivered a powerful headbutt that brought her to her knees. The minotaur, unphased at Silver’s escape attempt, reached out and grabbed the pony’s tail as he ran for the ramp. He tugged, pulling Silver back before sending his meaty fist straight into Silver’s nose.

“Contain the lad, will ye? Sheesh.” The captain turned and put a claw to the cabin door.

“Silver?”

The captain froze at the weak voice from inside, soft hoofsteps following before it began to open. A cough announced Darrox, standing wearily and much thinner than usual as his weary eyes drooped and scanned the deck, meeting the captain’s own stunned face. He tensed before leaping with unknown strength onto the figure before him, producing a knife from behind his hoof. Darrox's glare held firm even as the cough wracked his chest. The group on the beach began to rush up the ramp before the captain called them off.

“No, no stop! Darrox. Darrox, it’s me. It’s Gorn. Don’t ye remember?”

Darrox’s ragged breathing slowed as he pulled the knife from Gorn’s neck. Bewilderment crossed over his face. “Gorn?” He whispered.

He stepped off the captain, wobbling a bit. Silver broke free from the grip holding him and rushed to Darrox to steady him. Gorn looked to the duo before looking down to the cloak in his claw.

“So, eh, is the kid your, uh…” Gorn started, sheepishly rubbing his head.

“How did you find us, Gorn?” Darrox asked through another cough.

“Find ye? Sir, I been lookin’ fer ye nigh on fifteen years, now. I had nary a clue ‘fore the sending stone lit up.”

“The stone?” Darrox quizzed, turning to Silver. “You activated the stone?”

“I had to,” Silver stated. “You’re not well, Darrox. If somepony, anypony, would get the message it was worth it to try.”

“What did I tell you?” Darrox raised his voice, but the strain brought on a coughing fit. Silver steadied him, seating him on the deck.

“I don’t care if I’m ready, Darrox, I never will be if you croak in the middle of the night.”

“Is he sick? He looks a might thin. I swear if ye poisoned ‘im I’ll-”

“Just lay off, alright? He needs help, not your best ‘mom’ impression. Do you have a ship, can we get him there?”

“Don’t ye be barkin’ orders ‘ere, boy!” Gorn shouted. “I came for him, not some pasty pony.”

“And out of the last six years, which one of us has been with him? I’ve never even heard of you.”

“Yer disrespectin’ll earn you a short drop an’a sudden stop.”

“Shut up!” The gryphoness’ shout rang out over the bickering. “So, is there any gold on this island or not? Because I want to get paid.”

“‘Ave some patience, Gilda, ‘fore I pop a blood vessel from all your naggin’.” Gorn replied. “There’s gold ‘ere, but it’s not ours. It’s his.” Gilda’s sharp eyes flew to the withered changeling in Silver’s forehooves.

“Really?” Silver said. “You’re here for gold? Not to rescue us?”

“What? No! No, no, no, no.” Gorn said, taking one of Darrox’s hooves in his claws. “I am ‘ere for ye... just not both of ye. It took me awhile to get a ship an’ crew together, and convincin’ ‘em to come out ‘ere without pay up-front was a nightmare. But I’m ‘here now, sir, an’ we can get you home.”

“Us.” Darrox stated.

“Eh, what?”

“Us. Silver and I.”

Gorn darted his gaze between Darrox and Silver. “Sir, I don’t think that be a wise move, the little runt attacked us on the beach an’-”

“He’s still alive.”

“Aye, he is, quite regrettably, though. I figured the ‘taur fellow’d turn his guts to jelly ‘fore-”

“Shield Wall is alive.”

Those four words shut Gorn up quick. His face became devoid of all excitement, a chilling tone coating his gravelly voice. “That dreadful cur’s alive?”

“Yes,” said Darrox, taking a step forward out of Silver’s embrace. “His evil still holds sway over Equestria. Silver was left in these waters by Shield Wall’s cursed contingent. He is my apprentice, Gorn.”

The captain could only hold his beak open at the declaration. The crew around his traded glances between each other, searching for answers. The minotaur took a slow step forward, leaning down to the captain. “So, uh, are they not bad guys?” Gorn shook his head. At this the minotaur took another step towards Silver and Darrox. Silver readied himself and took a low stance, but the minotaur merely extended his hand to the earth pony. “My name is Steelhorn,” he said in a soft, unfitting tone. “I’m sorry I yanked your tail and bashed your face in, the captain made it sound like we were running into danger, so…”

Silver’s posture slacked. He stood and raised his hoof into the minotaur’s grasp, shaking. “No problem,” Silver said, warily, still eyeing the hulk of bulk before him. Darrox gave a weary smile before approaching the minotaur and the rest of the crew.

“You all have come here for gold, and I assure you will all receive what you’re due. Gorn, will you please take the crew below deck? The chests are behind the iron bars.”

“Gold, gold!” The diamond dog began pacing with his snout to the deck, sniffing up a storm. “Rusty like gold. And gems! Where bug pony hide them?!” Gorn buried his face in his claw at Rusty's enthusiasm.

“Be kind, though, much of what lies in the hold is needed for our plan.” He coughed again as Gorn nodded, leading the crew down the ramp and through the broken hull. Silver stood by, observing, ignorant to the contents of the chests Darrox spoke of. Upon command Steelhorn took hold of the aging iron and pulled the aged bars apart with a snap, crumbling to pieces as the crew beheld dozens of chests, stacked high upon themselves, with only a few hooves of standing space past the threshold.

“Get to haulin’!” Gorn ordered. “Ye get yer cut once it’s all on board.”

Hours passed as the crew labored, lugging hefty chests across the water and onto their ship anchored just beyond the sandbar. It was a smaller vessel, made of a dark wood and sporting dirty white sails. Silver shuddered at the sight, with memories of his torment upon the Compassion returning to him, along with images of his own dangling body. On the final row out to the ship, Silver helped Darrox board the skiff with the rest of the crew. Gorn, however, stopped him with a firm claw.

“Listen ‘ere, driftwood,” Gorn said in a hushed tone. “Don’t for a second think I don’t know what ye went through. I see the scars on yer pelt. That Shield Wall is a right monster, but Darrox is sick.”

“Are you trying to scare me into helping you?” Silver said, glaring at Gorn.

“No, lad, I’m tryin’ to make sure ye got yer priorities straight. We’ll get him treated an’ patched up, but ye best not forget what he’s done for ye. Savvy?” Silver took another moment to look the captain over, but slowly raised his hoof to the gryphon. Gorn took it and shook, a hint of a smile coming across his beak. “Welcome to the crew of the Tornado, Silver. Try not to go overboard again.”

The two made their way onto the skiff. After the short journey and boarding the Tornado Silver was able to get a good look at the vessel. It was clean, scrubbed to a near-polish and adorned with fresh ropes and pulleys. It was a handsome vessel, and the nervous knot in Silver’s stomach began to pass. He and Gorn hoisted Darrox from the skiff and helped him to the Captain’s cabin. The inside was rather bare, save for a few maps and tools scattered about. In the back was a small bed they placed Darrox on, bringing the sheets over him. He turned to Silver and spoke. “You were right,” Darrox said.

“Right? About what?”

“Leaving,” Darrox nestled deeper into the mattress. “We both had wasted far too much time there.”

Heavy eyelids closed on Darrox's face as sleep took him. Silver, once sure his master was comfortable, turned to exit the cabin, watching Gorn bark orders to the crew as they ran across the deck, some soaring upwards to release the sails, the minotaur pulling the anchor from the deep. Silver walked out to starboard, where Gilda stood tightening a series of ropes.

“Need help with anything?” Silver’s question earned him a cold look from the gryphoness.

“Not really, kinda hard to tie rope with hooves and no horn.” Gilda said coldly, pausing in her knotting before speaking again. “No offense… I guess.”

“None taken.” Silver replied, electing instead to look out to the island. He took a deep breath of the vessel’s wood and oil smell, expecting some surge of excitement, but none came. He stood along the railing with no sense of freedom, no flutter in his stomach and legs. Instead of leaping for joy and shouting his relief to the sky, Silver merely sighed. His stoic expression caught Gilda’s attention.

“So, uh… how long were you on that spec?”

“Six years, I think.”

“Whoa... all in all, not a bad place to get stuck on. I bet the fishing was killer.”

“Yeah, ponies don’t eat fish.” Silver said, chuckling a bit at memories of Darrox’s bizarre diet.

“You’re missing out.” The two remained in silence. Gilda finished securing the tethers and called up to one of the gryphons, who signaled back down before dropping the sail.

“How long is it to port?” Silver asked, breaking their silence.

“A few days, maybe a week depending on weather. You in a hurry or something?”

“Yeah, ‘a hurry or something’.”

“Has it got something to do with that freaky cape thing?”

Silver turned to Gilda, unsure of how to answer. “I… I don’t think-”

“Look, Gorn talks a lot, and when you volunteer for night watch you hear things. He’s mentioned that thing before, talked about it like something out of a horror story. I’ve seen enough of Equestria to know stuff like that is rare, and I’ve also read enough to have an idea who that rag belongs to. Besides, you owe me an explanation for shoving my head in the sand.”

Silver could only laugh. He slapped his hoof upon the railing a few times, causing Gilda to scoff a bit through a smile of her own. This was the relief he was looking for: interaction, to actually feel surrounded by life. Silver’s chortling dimmed before looking to Gilda again. “Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, it’s got something to do with that freaky cape thing. If you’re lucky I might tell you about it on the way home.”

“Ha,” Gilda scoffed. “You got some crazy plot to save Equestria or something?”

Silver raised an eyebrow at Gilda’s guess, his smile unwavering. After a second Gilda’s face changed to one of surprise, flinching only at the sound of Gorn calling to cast off. She snapped from her daze and went to work, looking back to Silver occasionally. Silver returned to looking out at the island. The cursed place he had called home for six years began to fade from view as they sailed around the crescent and traveled west. At this point the sun was beginning to hang low in the sky. He drowned out the sounds of the crew around him, focusing only on the sloshing of the water below. Silver ran a hoof along the scar on his ribs and, though there was still some pain, he recalled all that Shield Wall had done to him.

“Make way for Horseshoe Bay!” Gorn cried out, giving the wheel a final tug before the Tornado caught full wind and sped off, away from the island.