Pinkie plunged into a chilly darkness that immediately soaked through her fur and threatened to drain the heat from her body. She sunk quickly through the tenebrous depths, holding her breath, reminding herself that all would be well.
A burst of blinding iridescence tore through the gloom to surround her, its tingly sensation of coruscating golden energy making Pinkie giggle despite her held breath. In that moment, the pressure of dark water around her threatened to flood her sinuses with salt water, and she only just held back the urge to gasp.
Yet as the light swirled over her in faster and more intricate patterns, she felt a pressure and faint burning in her lungs from that long-held breath beginning to push more into the sides of her neck. Tiny, tickly membranes sprang to life just below her jawline, and the pressure dropped away to nothingness as her newborn gills pushed out stale air, then sucked in water from her surroundings, with barely a thought. The euphoric flood of sweet, fresh oxygen nearly overwhelmed the feeling of her hind legs pulling taut and merging into a powerful, finned tail.
Though the golden light faded around her, Pinkie found her eyes swiftly adjusting to what had previously been pervasive darkness. Bioluminescence from nearby plantlife stood out like studded gemstones on a navy tapestry, casting a pale glow on the sleek yellow-and-blue figure of Princess Skystar, who floated smiling before her.
“I’m so glad you could make it!” Skystar did a midair—mid-water?—twirl and threw her forelegs wide, sending a halo of bubbles dancing around her. “I was so sad when I heard you wouldn’t be able to stay for Hearth’s Warming itself…”
A small stab of sadness struck Pinkie’s heart. She tightened her grin to cover it. “I know, Skystar, and I’m sorry… but I know my family will want me there, and I always, always go.”
“It’s alright. Family’s what Hearth’s Warming is all about, there’s still so much help we need with preparations before then!” Skystar turned away and waved with a foreleg, beckoning Pinkie’s gaze toward the heart of Seaquestria proper. There she saw a bustle of activity that at first registered with her mind as a flock of pegasi flooding the blue-toned, crystalline square—until she remembered they were all swimming, thus accounting for so much vertical motion through the glistening space. All throughout were seaponies lugging multicolored shells from place to place, or trailing seaweed streamers in their wake.
Skystar darted back into Pinkie’s wide-eyed field of vision. “Everygriff was so excited about the idea of celebrating Hearth’s Warming for the first time this year! Well, I guess it won’t be the first time for all of us. We have a couple of families who claim ancient ties back to Equestria, and they used to celebrate it. But even for them, their decorations would’ve been from their time on Mount Aris—”
“Which are either long-since waterlogged, or still sealed away for safekeeping,” Pinkie said, nodding. “So is anygriff celebrating topside as well?”
“They won’t be,” a strong and regal voice cut in.
Pinkie raised her head to see a brilliant white figure with deep magenta fins swimming down into view.
Queen Novo inclined her head toward Pinkie before gesturing to the knot of guards flanking her. They held their distance as she approached, though their muscular forms and long, golden polearms made Pinkie’s tummy flutter with trepidation. “I’m sure that my daughter has already welcomed you to the production work for Seaquestria’s first, and perhaps last, official Hearth’s Warming celebration. We regret you won’t be staying to see it through to completion, but if there were two things I learned the last time you were here—” she cast a sidelong glance at Skystar “—one was that the two of you together can do an awful lot of celebrating in very little time.”
“Mom, I thought we said we weren’t going to bring up the Pearl—”
“I didn’t,” Novo said, smirking at her daughter.
“And again, we’re super-duper sorry about all that,” Pinkie added.
“All brine under the chasm.” Despite the reassurance, a hard edge in Novo’s expression left Pinkie unsure how sincere she was. “Although… given that my daughter has already been working on Hearth’s Warming plans for weeks now, I wonder if you might be willing to help with a more challenging task than merely finishing what she’s already set in motion.”
Pinkie glanced at Skystar, who cleared her throat and asked with audible unease: “What do you mean, mom?”
Novo’s eyes narrowed. “Everygriff has been at least tolerant of our Hearth’s Warming plans thus far. Even those who have begun the long work of reclaiming Mount Aris have acquiesced to our wishes about honoring Seaquestria with one last Hearth’s Warming hurrah. That is, all but one.”
“No, mom, not that old grump. He’s hopeless!”
“Oh!” A wave of relief at the simplicity of the task washed over Pinkie, and her mind started rifling through pre-indexed cheer-up plans. “Skystar, Queen Novo, don’t worry—you’re talking to the right pony for the job. I do this all the time back home, on missions the Map Table calls me to, and sometimes completely at random without even trying! And I’ve learned a thing or two about handling special cases!” She tried not to let her mind linger on her long-ago near-catastrophic-failure with Cranky Doodle Donkey.
But Skystar’s waggling foreleg drew her attention, and she saw an uncharacteristic grimace writ upon her bubbly friend’s face. “No, Pinkie… mom… we’re not going to waste our time dealing with a stick-in-the-mud like him. We only have a few days before Pinkie has to head back north, and who knows how long it’d take to get through to him!”
Pinkie watched mother and daughter exchange meaningful but uncertain glances. Skystar eventually hunched her shoulders and looked away, leaving Novo to return Pinkie’s gaze with unflinching firmness. “To be blunt, Miss Pie: Equestria owes me a favor, and your rather… unique skills… may help you succeed where others, including myself, have failed.”
Skystar’s hangdog countenance raised alarm bells in the pit of Pinkie’s stomach. She tried not to let her teeth chatter with the strong waves of emotion she could perceive coming from both Queen and Princess. But daunted though she was by their words and body language, she felt duty-bound to try and cheer up anycreature who needed it. And so she threw a sharp, if overwrought, salute to Novo. “Abso-tute-ly, Queen Novo, sir! That griff won’t know what hit him! Except it’ll be me, with a banana cream pie of holiday cheer!”
“Indeed,” Novo said, nodding slowly. “His name is Stratus Skyranger—” next to her, Skystar groaned “—and you’ll find him in our brig out past the south coral field.”
Pinkie furrowed her brow. “You have a brig?”
“We do. In fact, we almost put you in it.”
Pinkie spent much of her lengthy swim through Seaquestria’s sprawling fields of fresh, pink coral screwing up her courage for what lay beyond. Lockups of any kind rubbed her the wrong way, from the collegial single-room sheriff’s office-and-jail of Appleloosa, to the unnervingly vast dungeon beneath Canterlot Castle. And it brought near physical pain for her to linger on the notion of deliberately separating creatures from warmth, kin, and connection.
So she didn’t let herself linger. It was easy enough to avoid the thoughts entirely, given the thick messenger bags filled with clay-and-stone tablets that Skystar had insisted their accompanying guards should lug with them. Each tablet contained some aspect of Skystar’s Hearth’s Warming preparations, and—much as Pinkie hated to admit it—reflected either her friend’s inexperience at coordinating a large-scale celebration, or simply her unbridled chutzpah.
“I think we have to draw the line at fireworks,” Pinkie said as the coral finally started to thin out below them.
“Oh? Why, do you think my supplier won’t come through?”
Pinkie shook her head. “If Trixie said she could get discount fireworks out to y’alls by the time the party kicks off, I’d believe her. No, the problem is your venue. They don’t work underwater!”
“I know, I know, but… I figured with the magic of the Pearl we could transmute them into something that does! Or we could use it to set up a really big air bubble for them to explode in…”
“Skystar, you’re my sister-from-another-mister, but I think we gotta read the room with your mom a little. She’s clearly still upset about Twilight trying to steal the Pearl, even though Princess Celestia totally assured me things were cool before she sent me out here. I think we’re just gonna have to plan on doing things without it.”
Skystar’s frown deepened. “Unless…”
“What?”
“N… No. I said I wasn’t going to talk about him on our way out.”
Pinkie studied the concerned creases on Skystar’s face. “You mean this Stratus guy, don’t you? You think your mom will let us use the Pearl if we cheer him up?”
“Won’t happen. Best not to disappoint ourselves. Speaking of which, there’s the brig.”
She pointed with a foreleg. Pinkie followed it, squinting toward the dark, thick shadow cast by a rocky outcropping that jutted up from the seafloor and a nearby series of hills. Though still a ways away, Pinkie could make out a gridlike series of metallic glints in the stygian darkness. The likely meaning of them chilled her more than the surrounding cold current.
They swam onward in silence, approaching what was indeed a once-shining metal net coating the entire perimeter below the massive outcropping. Pinkie felt dwarfed by the sheer size of the space within. And the squat assemblage of stone and steel now becoming visible at its center loomed like festering boil upon the sea floor.
Something tickled at the back of Pinkie’s mind, though: “Where are the guards? I mean, other than these guys.”
“Don’t need them.” Skystar sighed, swimming up to a small gate. “The fence is just here to keep sea creatures out.”
“Wow, so you run your brig on the honor system?”
“You’ll see.”
They entered quickly, and swam through the darkness toward the low building. Its foundation was natural stone, though it appeared to have been shored-up with dark, painted metal. Small openings in its sides had been fashioned into portholes with glass that appeared to be one-way, looking out. A larger hole on one wall was lined with runes that glittered in the same faint tones as the hole itself, despite the lack of light.
“Let’s wait here,” Skystar said, floating next to the runed entrance. She gestured for their guards to move back and give them space.
Pinkie approached the entrance, gazing inward, marveling at what appeared to be a dry, air-filled sitting room, with comfortable-looking doors to other rooms on its far wall. The decor was simple but inviting enough, consisting of a plush red carpet, cream-colored sofas, and a hoofful of paintings showing above-ground nature scenes hung on the walls.
A large, winged figure dropped down from a high perch. The powerful muscles of his forelegs and body were clear despite being silhouetted against the brighter room. He padded forward slowly, turning his large beak to face Pinkie and Skystar in turn. Pinkie actually scooted herself back a few hoof-lengths in the water as he came right up to the entrance, reared up on his hind legs, and took a majestic bow.
“Princess Skystar,” rumbled the tall, pale blue, violet-maned hippogriff. “To what do I owe the honor of your visit?”
For her part, Skystar merely turned a frown on Pinkie. “This is him,” she squeaked.
Stratus Skyranger followed her glance, and gave Pinkie a piercing look with his crystal blue eyes. “A guest of Princess Skystar’s. An… emissary from Equestria, I presume?”
“I presume you’re right,” Pinkie said, warming to his politeness. “Call me Pinkie Pie! I’ll be your holiday cheer coordinator this Hearth’s Warming season!”
A sudden scowl crossed his face, marring its noble aspect. “Hearth’s Warming.” He all but spat the words. “Are you another in the succession of those who’ve come to lecture me about its ‘true meaning’ as well?”
Pinkie backpedaled again, stopping herself only after putting another full body-length between herself and the door—it was hard not to subconsciously shift her position in the absence of firm ground underhoof. “Oh! Uh. I… didn’t realize that the whole ‘true meaning of Hearth’s Warming’ angle would be so upsetting. My apologies; let me, uh…”
“Is it not enough that my honor has led me to dishonor?” Stratus turned away. “Must I also be expected to celebrate this wholesale bastardization of my family’s traditions?!”
“That’s a naughty no-no word!” Pinkie gasped, pressing forelegs to her muzzle. But then her brain caught up with the rest of what he’d said. “Wait, what family traditions?” She glanced at Skystar. “I didn’t think most of y’alls celebrated Hearth’s Warming?”
“I said a few did—”
“And we Skyrangers were chief among them,” Stratus growled, whirling on Pinkie and Skystar again. “Proudest of our pegasus lineage. Proudest of their victory over the Windigoes! Proudest to defend our home when others fled!” He’d worked himself up to shouting, and despite her momentary distraction at his mentioning the word pegasus, Pinkie felt glad that his physical form precluded him from swimming out and throttling them.
“Stop! Please!” Skystar squeaked, bringing the guards back closer again.
Though Stratus’ eyes narrowed to slits, and his foreclaws dug furrows into the rocky ground, he sucked in a large gulp of air and blew it out slowly, letting his stance settle back into something less like a prelude to violence. “Of course, Princess Skystar. I beg you: please forgive my outburst.” He turned his eyes on Pinkie. “With respect, noble emissary: you are wasting your time with me. I have already steeped myself in the shame of disobeying my Queen in the name of my family’s honor. Though I shall ever be her servant… it seems Hearth’s Warming is another place where our honor leads me on a different path.”
Pinkie felt her own eyes narrow, though more out of bewilderment than anger. It was less clear than ever why this griff was locked up… if the runed entrance even served as a lock. It dawned on her that it might not. Certainly he’d have to swim fast for the unlocked cage door if he tried to escape, and he might have a heck of a time dealing with decompression sickness as he ascended to the surface. But, strictly speaking, there didn’t seem to be anything stopping him from trying.
She held up a foreleg, in the manner of a schoolfilly.
Stratus sighed. “Yes, emissary?”
“Mr. Skyranger, sir? Why… exactly… are you in the brig?”
He hung his head, turning his eyes to the ground. “For standing with my family and refusing to retreat from Mount Aris when our Queen ordered it.”
“And why are you still in hippogriff-form?”
“Because this is who we are. I will not hide it, as my family would not.”
Pinkie frowned deeper. “I still don’t understand.”
Stratus met her eyes again, then turned away. “Queen Novo was right to put me in the brig for disobeying her orders. But I feel in my blood that she was wrong to give those orders. And so I must remain here, until my sentence is served.” He retreated back toward the sitting room. “Good day, Princess. Emissary.”
“Let’s go,” Skystar whispered. “There’s nothing more that we can do here.”
And in that moment, despite the clenching of her jaw and stomach that told her she needed to fix things, Pinkie didn’t know what else to do but nod and follow.
The seas were nearly pitch-black by the time the group returned to Seaquestria’s glittering pink castle, and Pinkie knew their slow swim back owed much to her own exhaustion. Going for a swim was one thing; even her first brief trip to Seaquestria hadn’t lasted long. But submerging herself in water for hours on end, and embarking on what was by far the longest swim of her life, was something else entirely.
As they entered into the castle proper, Pinkie reached out, letting a foreleg brush against the crystalline wall. She gasped. A feeling of warmth flooded up her leg and into her barrel; it was at once both familiar and surprising.
Skystar noticed, or perhaps heard her gasp, and turned to face her. “Pinkie? Is something wrong?”
“No, not at all,” she answered, pushing harder against the smooth wall, savoring the pervasive heat and strength that poured into her. “I think… I missed this. I didn’t even know it. But just touching something… other than water. Er, no offense.”
“None taken. I mean, earth pony magic connects you to the soil, right? It must be hard to go without that, even for a little while.”
The thought made Pinkie scrunch her muzzle. “I suppose I’ve visited Cloudsdale before, and it gave me feelings a bit like this…” An uncomfortable series of thoughts tickled the back of her brain. “Do you… ever… miss it?”
“You mean, being topside?” Skystar gave her a small smile. “Of course I did. For the longest time, all I could think about was getting out of here! I mean, I had a pair of shells with googly-eyes as friends, for crying out loud! I didn’t know what to do with myself. Seaquestria is great, and definitely safe, but it doesn’t offer anything like swooping out over the ocean, or flying up and napping in the clouds.”
“Just like a pegasus.” The words brought back an echo of what Stratus had shared with them. One detail in particular stuck out: “What did he mean back there about ‘pegasus lineage?’”
Skystar clenched her jaw into a heavy frown. “It’s… well, one belief about… us. The hippogriffs. Where we came from. Who we came from.”
Pinkie blinked. “He thinks… you came from pegasi?”
“And their union with a lost tribe of warrior eagles, if you can believe it.” Skystar shook her head. “It’s just a story, but it’s old, and it still has a few followers. Fewer, now that the Skyrangers are all but gone. But still a few.”
“Not you and your mom, though, right?”
“Oh, of course not!” Skystar’s laughter made it clear how absurd she found the idea. “No, mom hates that legend. Most hippogriffs call ourselves ‘children of the sky and sea,’ and mom always said it holds us back to think of ourselves as anything less.”
The gears in Pinkie’s mind spun faster, despite her muscles screaming out their need for rest. So many things were starting to make sense. Chief among them: “That’s why Queen Novo ordered an evacuation instead of fighting, wasn’t it? Because she doesn’t think the hippogriffs are tied to a physical form, or a single lifestyle… as long as you’re part of the sky or the sea, she’s not bothered about which?”
Skystar nodded. “Exactly. She feels less tied to our land than to our lives. A lot of griffs didn’t fully agree, but almost everygriff understood what she was doing and went along with it. And it worked, right? I mean, the only griffs we lost to the Storm King were the ones who stood with Stratus… and soon enough, the rest of us will get to go home. At least, all those who want to will. Some do like it down here.”
“While others miss their connection to the world above.” Pinkie searched Skystar’s brilliant blue eyes. “I wonder if they feel like I’m feeling. I’ve been down here less than a day, and I already feel like I could sleep for a week.” She struck the wall lightly. “I think you’re right; it feels like something’s missing. It snuck up on me, but it’s like everything else I feel is somehow… duller. Maybe it is my connection to the soil.”
“What are you saying?” Concern was clear in the creases on Skystar’s face. “Do you think he’s right? That us griffs do have a connection to the ancient pegasi?”
Pinkie shook her head. “I don’t know. I don’t think anycreature can know at this point. But it’s enough to know that Stratus feels he can’t be his full self down here. It’s at the heart of why he couldn’t obey enough to retreat from Mount Aris… but also why he doesn’t disobey enough to just run from your brig.”
“Oh, no, he’d never do that. Even my mom knows that.”
“Which brings us right back where we started.” Pinkie chuckled humorlessly. “I know from my own family that it can be hard—if not impossible—to uproot old traditions, no matter how silly they seem. I guess it’s not a stretch to think that even a virtue like loyalty has limits when pushed up against a creature’s other beliefs, whether they make sense or not.”
Skystar threw her forelegs up and groaned. “Which is why I keep saying that it’s not worth trying to fix this! Pinkie… do you want this Hearth’s Warming celebration to happen or not? I know I know the answer, but you have to see that Stratus is the kind of chasm you could spend eternity trying to fill up with sand. If you know what I mean.”
“Yeah. It’s too bad Dashie isn’t here. She’s the expert on loyalty.” Yet as Pinkie sat listlessly trying to conjure some part of Rainbow Dash’s oft-dubious wisdom, her mind made a connection all its own: “Hold on. What if this isn’t a problem of conflicting loyalties at all?”
“What do you mean?”
An old, familiar giddiness filled Pinkie with confidence and bounce. “Think about it: your mom knows that he can’t change, or he won’t change. But she didn’t ask us to change him. In fact, I don’t think she wants him to change. Not really, anyway.”
“Then what does she want?!”
“A way out.” Pinkie couldn’t resist the smile that crept over her face. “A way to let him go, and a way to get him to go, that not only honors both of their virtues, but that also acknowledges what both of them could’ve done better. A way to mesh his refusal to even give up his hippogriff form with her decree that everygriff should join your Hearth’s Warming celebration as one last moment of unity before some griffs go topside and others remain. Both of them would have to back down a little before things could change, but both of them are too stubborn to go first.”
Skystar fidgeted. “You think we’ll have to talk to both of them? It’s hard enough talking to one of them…”
Pinkie felt herself frowning a little. “Hearth’s Warming ‘Equestria Style’ has plenty of this sort of thing too, for what it’s worth. Sometimes family doesn’t get along as well as we’d like; sometimes ponies hold grudges, or keep themselves away for other reasons. But I always think it’s worth trying to bring ponies together when I can. Joy can make up for a lot of tears. Maybe we won’t get your mom and Stratus that far here and now, but maybe we can set the stage for that to happen later. What do you think?”
There was a long, tense moment before Skystar started nodding. But soon her smile echoed Pinkie’s own, and she reached forward to hold Pinkie’s unoccupied foreleg. “All right, bestie; how do we get these two boulders to budge?”
The reference to rock-working made Pinkie giggle. “Simple: we talk the only one who can make a move into making the only move they can make!” She pushed away from the wall to lead Skystar toward their destination, but stopped short as her vision swirled. All of the exhaustion of their journey came crashing back down on her. She went limp, floating for a moment, before she felt Skystar’s steadying grip around her shoulders. “Ooo. Tell you what: how ‘bout we do this tomorrow? I’m so tired right now, I could fall asleep… right… right here…”
“Pinkie?” Skystar called, at the edge of her consciousness.
She didn’t answer.
As a rule, Pinkie rarely got “good” nights of sleep. With seemingly infinite parties to plan, confections to bake, and once-crippling social anxiety to absolutely crush on an everyday basis, she often found herself burning the candle at both ends—when she even allowed herself to think “candle” instead of “firecracker.”
But it seemed there was nothing like being a fish out of water to tire her down. And suddenly, she felt years of her mother’s advice (or nagging) about the value of a good night of sleep being reflected in the clear-headed freshness she felt upon waking. She’d found nothing in the merciful embrace of slumber to contradict what she’d been thinking the night before, and indeed quite a lot to bolster her belief that it was the right, if not only, course of action.
And so, soon enough, both she and Skystar, as well as an even larger coterie of guards and soldiers, found themselves repeating the previous day’s journey out past the city, through the coral fields, and into the barren terrain beyond. A journey that ended once again with a fence, a runic entrance, and the griff who lay inside it.
“You’re back,” Stratus said, approaching the brig’s runed opening.
“That we are, Mr. Skyranger, sir,” Pinkie chirped. She met Skystar’s eyes briefly, and felt a burst of warmth at seeing her friend’s smile. “The fact is, I owe you an apology. I came out here knowing I needed to be careful and respectful of what you had to say, but I still managed to stick my hoof in my mouth pretty hard. You weren’t quite what I expected you to be, and I didn’t take the time to learn who you were. So: I’m sorry.”
His brows furrowed, but he nodded once to her. “Apology accepted. No harm done. I am… surprised, though, that you would need so great an entourage to bring me such a simple message.”
“That’s because we’re not,” Pinkie said, grinning. “Oh, I did want to apologize before we got into this. But the point of my apology isn’t about me; it’s about you. And not just that: it’s about showing respect for your loyalty. And I’m not the only one who feels you’re more loyal than most griffs give you credit for.”
Stratus gazed out at the guards behind her, appearing to study them. “Did they… want to swim out here and show their support for me? Queen Novo might find that provocative…”
A snickering sound behind Pinkie made her giggle as well. “Oh, come on, we have to tell him,” Skystar said.
“I agree, daughter. The time has come.”
The rich and unmistakable tones of Queen Novo’s voice hit Stratus like an electric shock. He stood straight and tall, locked his eyes fully forward, and shot a foreclaw to his brow in a sharp salute. Satisfied that they had sprung the surprise on him as planned, Pinkie turned to see Queen Novo’s shape resolving out of what looked like a translucent mist behind her. Several guards moved closer, and Skystar backed away slightly, as Novo first surveyed Stratus from a distance, then swam right up to the edge of his cell.
“Stratus Skyranger.”
“My Queen!” he barked.
She cast a quick glance at Pinkie before returning her hard, magenta eyes to Stratus. “You’ll forgive my dramatic entrance. A Queen can never be too careful when venturing outside her defenses; stealth and strength must see her through.” She smirked. “And a bit of drama can be fun sometimes, as well.”
“Of course, my Queen.” He hadn’t flinched. For her part, though, Pinkie wished that Novo would just stick to the message. Once more she felt a thrill of fear that Novo might try to change the plan out from under them…
But Novo stuck with it, for the moment at least: “Mr. Skyranger, it is among your Queen’s duties to establish and enforce a code of justice, is it not?”
“It is, my Queen.”
“And I know you understand that your willful disobedience of a lawful order at Mount Aris puts you on the wrong side of that code of justice; hence your current sentence.”
“I do, my Queen.”
Novo drew herself up taller, and held out a foreleg in a regal gesture. “As it turns out, Mr. Skyranger, the path of justice is not always clear. At times I must correct those who would defy my rule. Yet that alone is not justice. The true path of justice requires good judgment, both among those who live under it, and those who administer it. And there are times when justice requires not only an appreciation both of the laws themselves, but also of the creatures who live under them.”
Stratus’ face was clouded with uncertainty. He seemed on the verge of speaking, but no sound emerged.
“Your case is unique,” Novo continued, “and not just because you are the one griff who both refused to follow my evacuation order, and managed to survive their injuries during the Storm King’s invasion. It is also unique because of why you chose that perilous path: you felt a higher loyalty to our kingdom, beyond even the words of your Queen.”
Again, Stratus’ hesitant blinking and half-opened beak gave the clear impression that he was trying to gather his thoughts. But Novo didn’t wait for him: “Regardless of whether you were right or wrong in your conception of loyalty, your family as a whole paid the price for their convictions. And you have paid as well, being their sole survivor. As such, in the hopes of better matching what you have already suffered to a more perfect conception of justice, I am choosing to modify your sentence. Instead of a dishonorable discharge and five years in the brig, your sentence shall hereby amount to time served, and revocation of your officer commission.”
Stratus’ eyes went wide. “My… Queen?”
“There is one last matter,” she said, a slight look of mischief wrinkling her eyes. “I’ve ordered that all children of the sky and sea must join our celebration. But, of course, your family has made it clear they do not see themselves as children of the sky and sea. Instead, you claim a host of… altogether randy pegasi… as your forebears. Is that correct?”
“I would not phrase it quite like that—”
“But it is correct.”
“Y… Yes, my Queen.”
“Well then.” She examined a foreleg nonchalantly. “It would seem my proclamation does not apply to you. And as you are no longer serving a sentence in this brig, it seems appropriate to provide you an air bubble that you may use to reach the surface safely. Do you agree?”
Stratus’ foreleg shakily broke its salute as his eyes turned downward. “M… My Queen… you… do not need to do this. I am prepared to fulfil my sentence with all the honor that I still possess.”
“Oh, I know. I had that all but drilled into my head before I was even out of bed this morning.” She gave Pinkie a near-fatal dose of side-eye. “But to be honest, I’ve always been more enamored of tactics than justice—not that I don’t care for both. Understand, though: whatever you think of this decision in the name of justice, you can be confident that it no longer suits my tactical objectives to keep proud griffs away from Mount Aris, nor to treat as dishonorable a griff who has more than proven his willingness to lay down his life in defense of our lands.”
Pinkie squeed at Novo’s verbal coup-de-grace. She turned to Skystar, who was squeeing too, and both of their squees amplified.
Then she turned to regard Stratus, whose poleaxed expression hovered somewhere just outside of joy. “Em… Emissary,” he stammered. “Was this… your doing?”
“Abso-tute-ly!” She couldn’t resist a giggle. “Happy Hearth’s Warming, you great big serious-pants griff, you!”
A chuckle at last cracked his stony exterior. He shook his head slowly. “Thank you, then, emissary. A thousand times, thank you.”
“You’re welcome!” Pinkie gave a twirl and a bow. “Well c’mon then, Skystar, you and me have a celebration to get back to planning!”
Next to them, Novo rolled her eyes, but didn’t say anything to dampen the mood.
Pinkie knew the time would fly when they were finally able to spend it on the task at hoof. And indeed it did. The ensuing days slipped by in a mad combination of open-ended brainstorming and grinding through a ream of checklists that would’ve left Twilight in ecstasy. Much of Skystar’s initial plans either had to be scrapped outright, or reworked to be completely unrecognizable. Then there was execution of the hastily revised plans, which involved first hiring an army of temporary help, then drafting the actual army for protection on scavenging runs into the open ocean for ever-more shells or other resources.
She knew she’d be tired by the time she and Skystar met for the final time early on the morning of her departure. Yet as she swam through the empty square outside Seaquestria’s castle grounds, she also felt pride in what they’d accomplished. And not even primarily because of the decorations, though those were both plentiful and colorful, not to mention strewn everywhere. The castle’s walls were festooned with thick garlands of shells, gems, and shiny stones. Shops were plastered with a vivid diversity of seaweeds, coral transplants, and more garlands. Pinkie felt a tingle of excitement at the merry-making that would begin when Seaquestria awakened that morning, and a pang of sadness that she’d miss it.
“Hey there!” Skystar called, slicing through her reverie.
Pinkie turned to see her friend descending from the castle’s main gate. Redness at the corners of Skystar’s eyes nearly made Pinkie tear-up as well. But rather than letting their parting end on a down note, she resolved to laugh and make the moment memorable. She whooped, swam right up to Skystar, and nearly tackled her with a huge hug.
“Pinkie, take it easy there!” Skystar returned the hug. Then she added a laugh. Pinkie matched it. And the two of them remained there, laughing and hugging, almost long enough for the sadness to fade.
But eventually the moment faded, too. They parted to leg’s length, met eyes—and Pinkie could see the sorrow writ upon the creases of Skystar’s face. It must be nearly as great as her own.
“Oh Pinkie,” Skystar managed, choking back a sob. “I wish you could stay and see it all play out. You worked so hard—”
“We worked so hard,” Pinkie interjected, barely keeping her voice from breaking too.
Skystar’s smile told her that they both knew who had masterminded the day’s events. “If you say so, bestie.”
“Well, we did. And for the record, it would’ve been great anyway.” Pinkie wiped a tear from Skystar’s eye. “I just put my personal touch on it.”
That drew a genuine chuckle from Skystar. “You know, speaking of that, I wanted to thank you again for helping work things out with Stratus. Mom’s… happier. I don’t know. She’s not that good at showing it sometimes, but right before I went to bed last night she asked me about joining in the celebration. That’s, like… a big deal, coming from her.”
“Well, it’s my pleasure. Feels weird bringing creatures together by letting one of them go off on his own, but I guess that’s the job sometimes?” She shook her head and smiled. “Say goodbye to her for me, will you? It’s too bad that she’s been busy since we wrapped things up with Stratus…”
“Oh, you know how mom is: all work, all seriousness. She’s still grumbling about the half-day she lost getting out to see Stratus. But I can tell there’s something different. Like she’s closed the book on something that was bothering her.”
“I’m glad.” Pinkie glanced up toward the distant surface, studying the patterns of light just starting to creep into the black waters. Then she turned her eyes back on Skystar. “I’ll miss you. We should do this again sometime, when we have more time.”
“I don’t know,” said a voice out of nowhere, startling both Pinkie and Skystar. “Seems like the two of you together are a force that we need to keep under pretty good control.”
Pinkie’s brain caught up to her ears. She recognized the voice. “Queen Novo?!”
Skystar’s fright transitioned into eye-rolling exasperation. “Mom, I thought you were too busy to come see Pinkie off!”
“Oh, I am, believe me,” Novo said, swiftly emerging from invisibility right next to them. “I’m missing a session of the royal council for this. An interesting session. But I couldn’t resist trying that stealth trick again. I have to give it to you, Miss Pie: that’s a good tactic to add to my repertoire.”
“I see. So, uh…”
Novo inclined her head. “My compliments, Miss Pie. I thought your plan to reach Mr. Skyranger was crazy… and that you, in fact, might be crazy… and I’m not fully convinced that I was wrong. Regardless, though, it seems to have worked.”
Pinkie ignored Skystar’s protests at Novo’s choice of words, instead choosing to lean into enthusiasm: “Oh, thank you! I’m glad that you’re happy with how things worked out!”
“Happy is a stretch. But yes, I suppose they did work out. Now, I have one last matter to share with you: a Hearth’s Warming present.”
“A… oh! Really? You?!”
“Mom—”
Novo stared Skystar down. Pinkie felt sad to see her friend fade under that gaze, but didn’t see a quick way to repair that relationship.
“Yes, me,” Novo answered. “Though I hope you won’t mind if it’s what you Equestrians call… a ‘re-gift.’” Pinkie very pointedly tried not to notice the dirty look Skystar gave Novo at the admission. “As it turns out, something unnecessary arrived while you were here. It doesn’t really do Seaquestria much good, but I thought you might enjoy it.”
Pinkie met eyes with Skystar, and gave her a small nod by way of reassuring her that this was okay and totally not weird, inappropriate, or uncomfortable. “Th… Thank you, Queen Novo.” She studied Novo briefly. “If I may ask, though: where is it?”
Novo smirked. “Don’t worry, Miss Pie; you’ll know it when you see it. Now, farewell for the moment. Please give Princess Celestia my best.”
The brief desire Pinkie felt to lengthen their goodbyes was cut short by a sudden grip of magic all about her barrel. In an instant she found herself shooting upwards through the dark waters, with pressure building on both the inside and outside of her neck as her gills receded and her lungs prepared to resume normal function. Her long tail split apart in a great pop! that was more uncomfortable than painful, swiftly re-forming as a pair of legs and a puffy—though sodden—pony-tail.
She rocketed up out of the water, blinking and gasping in the cold early-morning air, at first too disoriented to notice that the force propelling her upwards had transitioned into cushioning her fall. It wasn’t until after a solid minute of sucking air in through her mouth normally that she gained full consciousness on the hard ground of Mount Aris.
The ground, her mind prompted.
Pinkie gave a great smile at the earth’s warm embrace, and hugged it back as best as she could. Rolling around and sighing with contentment on the ground would look strange if anycreature was around to see her; fortunately, she had no reason to expect anycreature to be there. So she rolled, and sighed, and soaked in the boundless comfort of once again being back on terra firma.
Then she heard the first boom.
With a jolt of alarm, Pinkie sat up in the dirt, casting about the abandoned city for the source of the sound.
At length, a second boom sounded, drawing Pinkie’s eyes up toward a shower of blue sparks high above Mount Aris.
“Wait a minute,” Pinkie said aloud. Then her eyes spotted motion elsewhere in the dark sky. She tracked the flapping of a shape with large and powerful wings…
“Stratus?!”
He was too high up to possibly hear her. And yet, and that moment, he visibly reached into a bag hung off his shoulder, and tossed something out into the open air. Pinkie kept her eyes fixed on his flight path, but soon was startled by a bright blast behind him. Specifically, a shaped blast in at least two distinct tones of blue that resembled nothing more than a connect-the-dots portrait of Trixie Lullamoon painted in an explosive medium.
“The fireworks!” she gasped. “Queen Novo’s gift…”
More bursts lit up the brightening sky, bathing her in showers of color and thick waves of sound. Pinkie lay back in the dirt, laughing, soaking up her Hearth’s Warming gift. Born of Skystar’s overzealousness, repurposed through Novo’s opportunism, and deployed through Stratus’ willingness to serve… it was the perfect capstone for her whirlwind trip, and a reminder of the imperfections of the creatures whose lives she’d touched.
But that was all right, she reminded herself, letting the “now” of that moment suffuse her. After all, Hearth’s Warming wasn’t meant to bring together perfect creatures, but those who wanted to bring warmth and togetherness to each other. Imperfection came with the territory. And seeing Stratus fly as free as his heart compelled him served as a reminder that at least one life had been made tangibly better by her time among the hippogriffs.
And she chuckled as she realized that the fireworks Skystar had ordered hadn’t been a waste after all.
