Yellow Light Waves

by MagLocal

Rating: teen
Tags: Drama, Sky Beak, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Alternate Universe, Ocean Flow, Romance, Equestria Girls
Length: 17317

With the world turned and fantastically transformed upside down, an estranged couple must bear with each other once more.

Sky Beak is an athletic outdoorsman seeking to make money out of being a tour guide.

Ocean Flow is the sister to her country's queen, now out on the field and doing work for the Tourism Board.

The married couple meet once more in the small coastal town of Basalt Shores in the wake of magic gone wrong, the whole world having become strange fantasy creatures. With Ocean stuck at the beach and the sea, and with Sky doing double duty by helping the village's population adapt to their new forms, they end up having to work together.

And worst of all, to live with each other.

~~~

This both takes place in the universe of Magical Curiosity and supersedes all other stories in said universe. If there is any conflicting information between this story and other entries, this story takes priority.

This is also an entry to FanOfMostEverything's Ancestral Tribute contest.

Thanks to Venerable Ro for brainstorming, and KorenCZ11 and Casketbase77 for pre-reading.

Published 2022-10-16 07:10:00 UTC
Last updated 2022-10-16 07:10:00 UTC

Basalt

When the seapony stranded by the water and the hippogriff standing by the sand finally saw each other, neither confessed that their wedding flashed back to them, back when they’d been human. Cameras had flashed, bouquets had flown, and a union had been made.

But their minds pressed on to each other.

Sky Beak had been filing papers and swapping books in the town hall of coastal Basalt Flow when he got word of strange magical events happening in Canterlot City. Time zones ahead of the Amareican metropolis, the clock here said six in the evening, closing time for his shift.

For the past half-hour, the water cooler conversation had revolved around unofficial hearsay about Canterlot. Word of portals, unicorns, and princesses had been bandied about, taking his mind off of the cast wrapped around his broken leg, off of the fact that he would finally become a tour guide around here and show tourists what this out-of-the-way hamlet had to offer, then climb up from there.

But while everyone was watching the TV for live Canterlot developments of magic turning people into ponies, the news feed exploded white.

Sky Beak stood up, eyes shot toward the outside. The horizon stretched into the sea, which was just a short road away.

When the sky burst into that blinding white, he screamed for everyone to take cover, but the great magical flash from Canterlot had reached them.

When he blinked open his eyes moments later, he realized too late that he had fallen out of his chair. His arms reached for his broken leg, then saw the claws that replaced his hands.

“Okay, everyone, do not panic!” shouted Kiting, the mayor, now a bird-horse thing. A hippogriff, it hit Sky. “Get your bearings and keep the peace outside! I’ll inform the shire president of our situation ASAP!”

Sky’s eyes swept the reception to see all his co-workers no longer there. Other hippogriffs had taken their place. Stinger flapped her wings hard against the sky, and she ended up gliding into the night sky outside while screaming her lungs out. The rest, like a nervous Saltfog, stumbled on all fours before picking up speed and running out through the door.

Numbness struck Sky’s leg, the one hoofed and cast. Miffed, he looked at where he felt his new limbs, his wings.

Bandages bound them tightly.

“What?! Why—?“

Pain shot him through the sides, like electric shocks against his torso; he fell back down, forcing his claws to bear the brunt of his collapse.

“Sky Beak, are you alright?” asked the mayor, galloping over to him.

Sky could only grunt at first. “I’m... just saw this out of nowhere!”

“Would you need some help getting outside?”

“I’ll be doing fine.Only just got well enough to get outside... yesterday...”

After enough assurances for Kiting to feel alright, Sky Beak managed to walk his way out of the town hall, already drilling the pattern of four-leg walking into his head, though keeping his new horse leg in soft hooffalls.

In the dim, cold blue of twilight, noise filled Basalt’s old brick houses and their stalls and stands, with feathers falling and silhouettes flying crazy in the dark twilight sky. Radios crackled in blank static and avian panic. Not a single car was in motion, and bedroom windows slammed shut.

One griff crash-landed upon him from the sky, and it took all Sky’s strength to not yelp in surprise. “M-Miss, are you okay?!”

“I-I’m f-fine...”

“We... we need to get you to safety! I’ll take you to the clinic.”

Her eyes fell upon him before she croaked, “Your... y-you need to get to a clinic, sir!”

“Just some flesh wounds, that’s all!” he said before he busted a booming laugh out of his beak. “Wings... I’ve got wings… okay, now you stay there while we round up everyone else, make sure they’re safe...”

Trapped so close to the beach that was Basalt Shore, Ocean Flow had to admit that it was tantalizing.

She had just arrived at the local bungalow of a hotel, her car intact. Her mission: canvas the place. The reason: If Basalt Flow would qualify for the next stage of initiatives under the Kingdom of Aracea’s Tourism Board. Her rise through the government has been a nice deal, especially after her older sister Novo then got elected into the monarchy some years back, which made her officially royal family. A craven cousin or two had told her to just coast through the rest of life on the royal tax alone, but for the esteemed Ocean, small minds were not worth paying attention to.

According to decade-old reports she could scrape together, Basalt Flow was barely a township on the far end of the nation and on the wrong side of the boonies, facing away from all the other major countries across the strait. The only unique attraction Basalt had for passers-by was a few stray news articles about a huge fishbowl; the humor, its creator said, was found in seeing a tiny goldfish swim in a big, empty “pond.”

At the very least, she would complete a percentage of census work on the town. Dipping her hands into more than just tourism would be great for lucrative working positions in the government beyond the Tourism Board, despite Novo’s misgivings that they wouldn’t be needed for her, given her high status in the nobility and all.

But that all vanished when her break at Basalt’s only beach turned her into some fish-horse monstrosity. Seeing everyone else on the sand, who had not been in the water with her, flail their new wings and limbs around, she quickly assessed herself.

No hands but fins. Her legs were gone, but the water felt oddly liberating. No need for goggles to see underneath; thus, the bounties of the ocean open up to her, with an abundance of corals and reefs. A clam didn’t miss her sweep, though her fins gave her a hard time to pry it open.

But the fantasy and her curiosity faded. Any thought that this was some hallucination faded, too.

She bobbed her head above the water. Not too far off, creatures flew over the town, swooping down to save or lead others, while announcements were screeched across Basalt Flow. She’d heard only vague whispers of what might’ve been going on in Amareica, of some “vegetarian flu” infecting the city’s inhabitants, along with a crazed conspiracy theorist among them chalking it up to “a hidden unicorn cabal.”

The air above-water blew past her head quite dry, too dry now, but she could still bear it in the chilly evening. The orange sky dimmed quick. It then dawned on her that her report wouldn’t be complete in time for tonight or for the foreseeable future.

And it didn’t take her long to deduce that fish-based creatures never did well on land.

With the beach cleared of scared visitors, she raised her fins and called for help.

“Someone’s in the water,” said Stinger by a busy intersection. A wailing ambulance stood by.

Sky Beak stashed a gurney back inside after the seventh time someone crashed into the ground yet suffered no broken bones. “It’s a seapony, isn’t it?”

“Mm-hmm. Just the one, though.” That was what the national news were saying now; most native Araceans had transformed into hippogriffs, but if they were in the water, they were pinned to the ocean as seaponies. Footage from the capital had shown about a dozen quarantined to the piers, tended to by a tug boat.

“I’ll go check.”

Stinger tilted her head. “But your leg?”

“I’ve played enough football and cricket to get my fair share of injuries.”

After being sighed at, Sky Beak took stock of the food available in town, then began his short journey to Basalt’s beach. Past stopped cars, he passed the only gas station around for a dozen miles. A van had been parked there, where a unicorn and a deer listened to the car radio intently. The pony could be overheard saying, “Those high school girls better know what they’re doing.”

Down a dirt path the length of a stone’s throw, he trotted down to sea level, claws roughing up the rocky sand.

“Ma’am, don’t worry!” Sky Beak raised the sling bag around his neck, catching the seapony’s attention. “I’m here to help!”

But his rescue stopped waving her fins. “Is... are you who I think you are?”

Her voice stopped him. He swore that he had sunken in the sand just a tiny bit. Flowers thrown into the air, and a kiss that could’ve been a lifetime shot through his head.

“Ocean Flow? Is that you?”

Ocean sighed, and a cautious smile set on her lip-less mouth. “Well, this is a surprise.”

“A surprise, indeed,” he repeated, before settling down on the sand, his first time sitting down as a hippogriff. “How are you still breathing, by the way? Your head’s all the way over the water.”

“No idea,” she said, shaking her gilled head. “Magic, for all I know. Are those...?”

“Food.” He unzipped the bag. “We don’t know what a seapony could eat, so I guessed. There’s some Neighponese seaweed, some kelp chips... and apparently, this place sells fish oil tea, too. Isn’t that a blast from the past?”

“Imported from Skipjack about twenty klicks down the coast, most likely” she said, matter-of-fact. “Reports of this shire’s imports trace that yellowfin tuna is the big pull here, so no surprise there.” But she looked past his shoulder. “Did you get into an accident?”

He felt his wings ruffle and ache against the bandages from who-knew-where. “Broke my leg when I got here, which meant my wings came in pre-injured. Obviously.”

“Stupid magic, ruining our lives,” she muttered, slapping the sand with her fins. “Speaking of, what are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same question.” He patted his feathery chest. “Tour guide for Basalt Flow, or slated to be. Leg injury’s made me the government’s errand boy for the mayor. They pay me well, though now I’ve got three things to let heal before I’m back on track.”

“You won’t get a lot of visitors anyway,” she said. “I’m from the Tourism Board, and the data I’ve got so far is, to put it simply, that Basalt Flow is a backwater that can’t even qualify for rural tourism.”

“Oh come on, I get it, but Ocean, it’s just a stepping stone for me. Do big here, and I’ll be getting an offer from The Aracean Guild of Guides to hop onto Table Mount, then to Aris City—“

“I can help you there.”

Sky blinked. “What?”

“I’m scouting the place, asking questions, checking whether Basalt can qualify for a boost of tourism funding or not. I shouldn’t be writing full-on reports for what’s obvious to me, but it is what it is, and that’s what I should be doing over the week.” Ocean held up her fins. “But I can’t because no matter what I do, I’ll always be wet, and I can’t risk breaking my computer. Now, I hope the hotel receptionist will recognize that you’re my husband; when she does, she’ll let you into my room. You’ll find my laptop and my phone along with a portable desk. Get them here so I can get my work done and contact everyone about my condition.”

Sky Beak took a step back. “Whoa, lady, you’re pulling my leg! And aren’t you supposed to be thinking about how we’re suddenly horse things?“

“Then we can make it even,” she said, now crossing her fins. “I have the pull to get some big shot looking your way, so you either help me get out of here and let me do my work—which seems to be a resounding no from you—or we can cooperate.”

Sky Beak stood speechless at Ocean’s deal.

“Finally, if you could, help me get out of the water safely. If you can’t, we’ll blame it on magic. Either way, once it’s all over—and hopefully those meddling Amareicans reverse this magic pronto—I can ping Novo about you, get her to pull in even bigger strings, fast-track your career.”

“That’s...” Sky clapped his beak shut. “Okay, that’s generous of you, like always—“

“What do you mean ‘like always’?”

“Come on, don’t you want to be complimented?”

“You’re just—!” She crossed her fins, looking away.

Sky did the same with his feathered legs and talons. He kept mum, still considering the offer.

The crashing waves made the both of them ponder.

A five-star restaurant conquered the skies in its own penthouse suite, smack-dab in the middle of the modern marvel that was Aris City.

This is where Ocean Flow had suggested for their first date.

Humility washed over him as he ascended the skyscraper in an elevator all alone save for an assistant sent from Ocean herself. Courting with Ocean Flow wasn’t exactly the far-off fantasy of, say, marrying Queen Chrysalis of Cambling, but Ocean had yakked about her older sister qualifying for Aracea’s monarchical election when the current king passes away.

The elevator dinged.

Balconies upon flower-blessed balconies scorched his eyes as the vast Silver Bay lay open to him in this sunset, with a flock of steel-glass high-rises and classic marble domes their audience. The intoxicating smells of truffle and caviar assaulted his nose. The staff themselves, even the janitor, dressed like royalty.

While the assistant Seaspray yapped on about soon becoming an admiral, Ocean Flow stole Sky’s sight. She was indeed a looker, in full-on make-up and adorned in a dress that somehow made a bow tie look just right on her.

“Oh wow, Ocean! You’re stunning tonight.”

She stifled a laugh. “Hmm, you are, too.”

Ocean had insisted on him just coming in “semi-casual,” which he later deduced to be a polo and some pants that weren’t blue jeans. He pictured, in his head, the news once they’ve done enough of these dinners—a skyrocketing family of scions coming down to earth, reaching out of the political sphere, declaring to the entire nation thatthe line of Novo wouldn’t be snobbish like the rest of them.

And it was a sweet deal for Sky. True, trophies for his athletic feats in college as well as a couple stints in grade cricket got him more accolades. But she had picked him up, singled him out, when he’d told her just a little bit of his own story, his own life, in the suburbs, son of now-dead farmers from the sticks, only offering short backpacking trips and biking excursions from some local travel agency.

So when he took a bite out of the medium-rare ribeye steak Ocean Flow had ordered for the both of them—all expenses paid by her—saying “I love you” was a no-brainer to him.

Union

For the first time in a long while, Ocean Flow slept soundly.

She dreamed. In that dream, she flew underwater. Her sister swam by her, seapony too, and so did the rest of her family and friends, swimming past reefs and atolls, feasting upon shrimp and sashimi, and resting upon tiny islands of magical creatures just like them.

When she woke, she expected the old wooden ceiling of the hotel to greet her. She instead found herself in a crevice, a trench, her pillow nothing more than soft corals upon her head.

“N-no! It was real?”

A quick re-look over her body confirmed her fears, but she breathed in and out, exorcising the worries away to list her priorities: find out a way out of the beach, get some help, figure out the global situation, get her work done.

She raced up, scaring several fish out of the way, and took her head out of the sea.

The morning light bounced upon the surface, turning specks on the beach into gold, but no one was enjoying the glimmering sand. Faint broadcasts could be heard; she could discern news reports among them.

Ambling down the dirt path to the beach came Sky Beak, laptop and phone balanced precariously on his back.

“Oh, good,” she said, beckoning him to come closer. “So… did the Amareicans find a way to reverse this?”

The shake of his head signaled otherwise.

“Alright, this is… unfortunate.” Her tongue rolled in her cheek. “Any updates overnight?”

“Look, I don’t know how to say this, but—“ he scratched his head, then winced, thanks to this sharp claws “—it’s permanent.”

Her eyes widened to the size of saucers. “What?”

He opened her laptop to show her a live broadcast rewound to that of some purple princess unicorn with wings telling the world that magic was here to stay. The magic had become so intertwined with this reality, it couldn’t be removed without destroying the universe.

Ocean bit her lip, only to remember that she didn’t have one anymore. “That’s a wrench into this Board project.”

Sky Beak groaned. “Do you think they’re going to care about tourists now? I don’t, not now! I tried to sleep last night, but my aching wings kept fidgeting in the bandages! I tried to get a doctor or a vet to look at it, but the best thing they’ve got is comparing me to a literal bird!”

“Hmph. Here, I thought you’d preach about having to care about the world and all that.”

Sky blushed. “I’m the exception because I’ve got broken wings from nowhere. Everyone else’s got good enough wings, if they know how to use them. Though, they don’t, half the time.” A worried look overcame him. “But what about you? I’ve actually been looking for you for some time now.”

“Turns out there’s a tiny ravine here,” she said, pointing to the sea. “It’s a good place for solitude.”

“Best beds in the world,” he muttered. “Anyway, what do you have for me before I take care of the rest of Basalt, papers and all?”

“And do you think they’ll care about bureaucracy?”

“Of course they do. This is government stuff, your territory.”

Ocean could only roll her eyes. “Well, I first need to touch base with my family...”

Ocean’s phone ended up scratched thanks to Sky’s claws, much to the seapony’s chagrin, but the challenge was overcome as he got to her messages.

Novo was there, just called Novo, her profile picture being a surprised face thanks to some spilled water, chalked up to sibling rivalry. There had been a back and forth, with Novo devastated about the news of magic being here for good, and having to co-ordinate with the version of herself from the other world to get some well-needed relief and transition forces. Their children got pinged, too. Fortunately, despite becoming hippogriffs themselves, they were both fine in their own Amareican lives. Silverstream’s fiancé had become a griffon during their business trip, and Terramar’s own pursuits meant that he was now dating a horse-bug who, apparently, could shapeshift.

When the messages were done, Ocean said, “Here’s what you’ll do for today: Basalt’s small enough for you to knock on doors and bring surveys out, so there’s that. You’re good with people—“

“Hippogriffs.”

“Still people. Anyway, just do that, perhaps a focus group interview or two if they’re fine with it. Just ask around about traditions, festivals, quirks.. I know some, but I need to know how it really feels, and that’s on you.”

The papers got flipped through over his claws, Sky cautious around the staplers’ clips. “And you need this when?”

“A few minutes ago.”

So a few minutes later, he found his bags swamped with the papers, along with a pencil over his ears, facing Basalt’s fate.

The sun-pierced windows gave the town the aura of a fading hangover. Windows did open, and cars did not rule the roads, with how small the town was. Had it not been for the hippogriffs that’d replaced everyone here just last night, it would’ve been a ghost town.

Some flew high, with a few kids trying to climb up the roofs with claws and wing-flaps. A cranky old lady called them down, shaking her cane from the talons.

For Sky, though, it was down to the town hall first.

“Good morning! How are you faring so far?” Kiting asked, standing at his desk in his office, carefully tapping on his keyboard. “I take it that Miss Flow has been holding up well.”

“Yes, she’s been doing fine. Any update on how the seaponies would get back on land?”

“Just got an announcement from Equestria.” He turned the monitor for Sky to see. “Turns out their version of our country, Mount Aris, has what they call the pearl of transformation, broken into tiny shards like with this necklace here.” He tapped on the screen. “They’ll be sending out teams so they can hold hands and turn the seaponies back into hippogriffs.”

“So they’ll be coming here ASAP?”

Kiting tented this claws on the desk. “Mister Beak, I hate to break it to you, but even if we weren’t low-priority, Mount Aris doesn’t even have ten thousand inhabitants, let alone ten thousand volunteers. They’ll be prioritizing the big cities first, and the shards have to recharge their magic, too. Their other Novo pretty much apologized for that, so...”

Sky Beak nodded. “That’s understandable. So what about bringing Ocean Flow to them instead?”

“The nearest port city is a hundred miles from here, and you can’t exactly call Pistia a major destination.” Kiting scanned Sky’s papers from afar. “I assume that’s what Miss Flow said about you being her representative for the Tourism Board here?”

“Yes. Maybe not the best priority to take since it turns out pony land is real and it’s taken us by storm, but—“

“I say take it,” he said, dismissive with a wave of a leg. “Any help is better than no help. With her influence, we can have unicorn visitors seeing our way of life.” Kiting let his head fall back. “Hah, imagine that!”

Stray visitors from across the town kept Ocean company.

Children came scampering across the sands, along with their parents. The kids asked her questions, insistent on figuring out who she was.

“You’re not even real, are you?” one of them asked.

“What do you mean, I’m not real?”

“You’re a seapony! Seaponies don’t exist! That’s what Pa told me.”

“Honey, you’re a hippogriff. Hippogriffs aren’t supposed to exist.”

“P-Pa! The water lady is being mean!”

Ocean rolled her eyes as they went away, with his parents trying to hush him down with a sandy picnic.

But a plastic bag caught her in the tail.

And she looked. It wasn’t just one but two, one inside the other.

An idea struck her in the head.

After biting one out of the other, she now had plastic bags on her fins. The droplets wouldn’t dry in minutes, but she shot a fin in the air. Vaguely, she could feel the plastic bag drying over the water.

“Hello, Miss Nettle Mettle!” said a bombastic Sky Beak said once the tiny cottage door opened. “Oh, and you must be the nice lady who kept the public peace from a couple young no-gooders off the roofs!”

“What game are you playing, punk?” replied the old lady, getting her cane out.

“Oh, no, I’m not playing any games here, Ma’am! See, I’m Sky Beak, and I’m here to ask a few questions about people visiting your lovely town.”

Nettle scrunched up her beak. “You’re selling me something, aren’t you?”

“No, Ma’am, it’s something much better than that! Trust me. You might’ve only seen me a few times for the past few days, but I’ve had a nice peachy time staying here! So, how about it?”

She looked at the pencil. “With questionnaires about this old place like the business telephones, I thought I’d seen everything last night. Gimmie that pencil!”

~~~

By lunch, Sky had returned, laptop and all, along with Ocean’s electronics.

“I’m all in for DIY stuff,” he said, as he took down a couple plastic bags, some tape, and her desk, “but this has bad written all over it.”

“It would be enough. Just tape the plastic all over, and make sure it doesn’t touch the screen. Don’t place the bags underneath the laptop or it’ll overheat.”

Ocean then laughed seeing the adorable sight that is the hunk of a hippogriff struggling with tape. He looked her way, but she said, “Go on. Ah, now it’s ready. Good, thank you.” She eyed Sky’s bag slung around his barrel. “Oh, and lunch?”

“Look, I can’t just sit here and chat,” he said. “I’m going to eat at the café uphill, keep myself abreast of the news and Basalt, but I’ll tell Many Bays to stop by and see you.”

“’Keep myself abreast of the news,’ the free bird says...” Shaking her head and distancing herself from her whispers, “Many Bays... you mean the sashimi guy?”

“It’s because you can eat fish. Fish eat fish, you know?”

“I’m not stupid, Sky.”

As he entered the café, he noted the many scratches on the door.

Over time, the sight of hippogriffs everywhere and the disturbing lack of humans had worn out their novelty, especially as bird-heads kept talking with the same voices he’d heard since his arrival. At least the coffee still smelled great to all.

But a familiar unicorn sat by the counter, a compass and camera painted on his flank. One of the creatures in the van last night.

Sky sided up to the unicorn, then from the barista, he ordered espresso.

The pony finally looked his way. “Can I even say that you’re not from here?”

Sky laughed. “You definitely don’t look like you’re from Basalt, good sir! But yes, I’m not from here.”

They exchanged pleasantries, but the TV’s news reports, used to showing local cricket broadcasts, kept butting in. More diplomatic visits from the other world were scheduled to commence, along with Equestria’s princesses making deals with the world’s major powers, including Aracea. The ticker below gave hope that the Aracean and Arisian queens would also meet soon to discuss inter-universal co-operation.

“It’s a mess,” said Leeway Cape, the unicorn, as he rubbed his horn and sipped on his cup of Amareicano. “I planned to just stop here, take a few pictures, and leave. Now... well, I don’t know how to drive anymore, not with these hooves. No one wants to drive me back to the capital, but it was a tall order anyway.”

“At least you’ve found some nice civilization here,” Sky said, clinking his cup of coffee against the saucer. “Speaking of, this your first time here in Basalt?”

He smiled wryly. “Yeah. Came back from Headland Sound. The lighthouse was beautiful, although the turbines almost ruined the mood. But the hour I stayed here before things got bad... yeah, the people were nice. Still are.” He gestured to a table where several teenagers amazed themselves by pecking a loaf of bread with their beaks. “Heh, they’re all good people. Well, can’t say the same about the roads, and there’s nothing but a library, a museum the size of a bedroom, and some wheat farms, but that’s it.”

“Oh, but what about the mountains?”

He looked out the window. “You mean those mountains? Look, I was in no shape to climb a mountain before becoming a pony, and now you’re telling me to scale them without hands?”

Sky snapped his claws. “No, I have an idea. You can still use your camera with your horn magic, right?”

~~~

“Okay, I take it back!” Leeway yelled, trembling against the air. “Flying is scary! I’m hunkering down in the hotel!”

So he jumped down and ran away, galloping across the grass fields and between several local vineyards. In the horizon, a formidable mountain range stood their ground.

“He’s right, you know,” said Stinger, touching down, having let go of her pony passenger. “Just took him up like five feet, and you heard him crying for dear life.”

Sky felt her claw on his bandaged wings. “What—ow!”

“Oh! Sorry, uh, force of habit.”

He set his haunches on a stubby fence of stone, drinking in the vineyard’s scene, tended to by farmers carefully picking grapes and pruning branches, unhindered by their new forms. Half a dozen flew over, beelining to a little stone house where, according to a proud Kiting, they’d crush the grapes in the traditional style.

“Didn’t even stop to ask about this place,” he said, inhaling the fruity air of grapes. “Now that’s a good one! ‘Hi there! Did you know that Basalt Flow is home to a wide variety of home-made wines?’”

“If they did, those connoisseurs should’ve been coming here in the thousands by now,” she said, clicking her tongue afterwards. “No, the story is that a bunch of wine wannabes found the climate perfect here and wanted to make their own label because every high-class family was doing it.”

“Let me guess: sold it off, not enough profit?”

The happy lift in her beak said yes.

“I can say it’s homegrown, then! Free from corporate influence!”

“You’re really trying to give Ocean Flow enough progress to tide her over, huh?”

“Tide her over for what?” he said. “Of course, she needs all this! And I need it, too.”

“To leave this place as fast as possible?”

His eyes widened. “Come on, Stinger! I came in here precisely to astound visitors, domestic or foreign, with the wonders of small-town Aracea!”

“No, the real reason, not the official one.”

A moment of contemplation later, he set his eyes toward the growing vineyard. It had also been a long time since he himself had had some good wine.

“Whatever actual reason I’ve had, the world’s... different. Everyone’s different now. I’ve come here for an offer to be a local tour guide, and now it looks like I’m gonna stay a little longer, and it’s not just ‘cause Ocean’s bossing me around.”

Stinger chuckled. “I searched online about you when you told me you were married to the queen’s sister. Can’t believe you pulled off that miracle, huh? But she’s quite low-key, isn’t she?”

“Her sister’s the queen; what can you do? But yes, Ocean’s a hard worker. If she ever got into sports, her work ethic alone would’ve gotten her medals. But, yes, it was a miracle,” he said, turning his eyes upward to the mountains. “That I ever got married to her at all. Me, a high school, college jock... this guy managed to snag future royalty? Others would kill for that, but I got it just because I looked rustic enough to her one day.”

Stinger shook her head. “You can’t be serious.”

“Oh, I am. My shirt was just dirty enough, and I had the jeans to prove it, and then, we had it all. The dates were gorgeous! We traveled everywhere, went to lots of state functions, and the wedding was as bright as day. Everybody who was anybody was there.”

Stinger cocked her head. “How come I’ve never heard of you, then? You’re part of the royal family, right?”

“We’d been low-keying everything long before Novo got there. Plus, busy with the kids. Can’t exactly go on grand tours and all that in public, though that got easier once we boarded them in an Amareican private high school. They’re a nest of independent little bunches.”

A couple of farmers in hats started picking grapes closer to the duo.

“So, what did you do?”

“Oh, I said it back when I came here, right? Biking competitions, extreme sports, mountain-climbing, even got into some agency that sold hill-climbing tours for beginners. I was at the top of my game, getting prize money left and right in competitions and outdoor services, and I loved it. Going beyond your physical limits like that and being paid for it is a sweet deal, don’t you agree?”

He went on, detailing his adventures. He had conquered a jungle in the Fillypine Isles, gone kayaking down a waterfall and earned a hefty sum by some Aracean counts for it, which somehow turned into organizing a short-lived league of extreme ironing, where they would iron some clothes at the top of some unnamed mountaintops, and whoever looked the coolest would win.

But Sky Beak would not notice Stinger looking away, to the vineyard and then one of the owners who would promptly tell them to buy some of their hundred-dollar wine or go home.

The meeting with the Board had taken a nosedive.

Now, Ocean sat there, much of her body baked under the sun, resting her fishy flesh on the rough sand, keeping her tail within the sea, compensating for the changing tide. Though thankful for the laptop protection, Ocean saw that the faces on the Board didn’t look as appreciative.

“It’s a matter of priorities,” said Good Hope, the now-hippogriff chair of the Board, on her video camera screen. “Defense spending’s gone astronomically high in case some terrorist group wants to take advantage of the chaos, and infrastructure is skyrocketing as well to accommodate our new species. The budget isn’t final, but we’ve got little to leverage here.”

“And what does that have to do with my current operation here in the shire?” Ocean said. “I’m already compiling a report here about Basalt Flow as we speak—“

“With all due respect, Miss Ocean,” said Alp Fault, some snow-white bird-horse notable for building an army of ski resorts on Aracea’s snowier peaks, “travel will be unstable, especially international, given, ahem, recent events.”

“We’re all on the same team!” Ocean spat. “It’s in all of our best interests to get a lion’s share of the funding so we could enact these projects and get our ROI—in money and in raw tourist numbers—before the summer starts.”

Another one, Rainier the seapony—broadcasting himself just above water with his smartwatch—piped up, “We are running overtime on this topic. Let’s move on to the next subject, budget projections for the Board.”

“Look, what do you want me to do with this?” Ocean held some answered questionnaires on her fin, laminated to be waterproof. “I’ve done enough work to warrant feedback and suggestions on how tourism in the shire will move forward. I can’t be the only one out there doing field agent work. I’m as down-to-earth as I can be on this Board!”

“We can’t deny that,” Good Hope replied. “But let’s table this.”

So numbers and graphs tore at her mind as the meeting continued.

The topic did return to her dealings. The rest of the shire and its coastline had to be surveyed, at least, if for nothing more than the value of its beaches. If none of the towns could be saved, that was okay; it would be money well saved for something else. Alp Fault still had it in him that a little railroad connecting the towns would be a nice experience, but Rainier insisted that a never-changing sea shouldn’t be enough to justify a whole new railroad to The Transportation Ministry.

But then, it was back to the budget.

~~~

“Meeting adjourned. Ocean Flow, stay with me.”

The gallery of faces on the screen cut themselves down to just Good Hope’s. In the relative quiet, with only the coming and going of waves to fill her ears, Ocean could see the stack of paperwork just behind Hope’s chair.

Exasperation overcame Ocean’s features. “Okay, what’s going on?”

“A lot,” Hope simply said. “We could ask you to talk with your sister to grant us extra money, but you’ll have to agree with me that now is not the best time to get this report done or to request that windfall from the Queen.”

“Not the best time? I’ve already made strides with this report despite being stuck at sea!”

“A report that assumed everyone was still human.” The look on Hope’s face then faltered. “Now, I don’t doubt that whatever these Equestrians are, we have some things in common. But I can’t assume much else. In addition, even if we had all the money we need, it’d just sit around because our projects would need massive Equestrian adjustments. Standardization will be a mess, too; public transportation already took a hit there when we realized you could just fly over half the buildings here.”

“Look, just say you don’t need this report yet, okay?”

Hope rubbed her eyes. “Not now. We’d just be sitting on our haunches anyway.”

Ocean bit her tongue instead of her non-existent lip. “I’ve worked in this Board for more than five years, and I’ve been under the Tourism Ministry for more than seven. I’ve helped save the face of several ministers in my time, and I’ve dipped my hands into a couple more projects, consulted with them... I worked my way up here as a public servant for the longest time, even if you take away my sister’s help! I’ve built up all this—“

“Ocean Flow?”

A few drops were seeping in through the plastic. Ocean blew them off onto the sand.

“I’ve sent an e-mail to everyone here to take a break,” Hope continued. “Unless the queen decides to have too much compassion on us, our budget could only keep it afloat. All the people we’re advertising Aracea to are too busy getting their claws or hooves or fins on the ground. You, of all people, should know this. You’re one of the few on this Board with more than a dozen years of experience in the government and are privy to inside politics thanks to your sister.”

Ocean kept silent as the cold waves reached her once more.

“I’ll be ending it here. We won’t be expecting any report within the next two weeks.” Then, she took a long breath. “Also, off the record, enjoy your surprise vacation. You say Basalt Flow’s not the best, but it seems nice enough. We’re all gonna need this break.”

With an exchange of goodbyes, the meeting ended, and Ocean closed her laptop, waiting for Sky to return it to her hotel room.

The wedding had gone smoothly, all according to her plan.

For Ocean Flow, every detail had been scrutinized, meticulously laid out for her right-hand assistants and clerks to put to reality. While it shouldn’t rival Novo’s own wedding from a few years back, it still turned out ornate in all things, from the artificial archways to the luscious red carpets.

Now, there would indeed be a small orchestra, but a local band with zithers and other folk instruments would also come on stage to perform folk music. Several top athletes of the day were also invited, giving Sky some like-minded shoulders to rub with. And the doors would swing open to cast a wide net, catching nobles and workers alike.

She would point out his past to everyone, because that was his big selling point. Sky Beak was not a politician nor an oil magnate nor a big anything. Sky Beak was a man of the people, who had applied himself vigorously to achieve his current status. She couldn’t deny that the optics would make the press fawn over her and construe herself as a disruptor of Aracean tradition, in the name of liberalism and democracy.

Today had already been her day.

So when the ceremony ended with kisses and a pick-up truck leading them all the way to a decent manor not too far from the capital, they spent the rest of the week in each other’s arms. There was another public dinner to be had, and a press conference to attend, and Sky Beak would cut the ribbon at the opening of a new hotel that offered a breathtaking vista of its soft, white sands.

There, they lay, watching the sun set.

She ran through next week’s schedule in her mind. She had to settle a biography deal for Sky, then get a high school or two named after him. Sumptuous dinners would follow as per the honeymoon clause, from Amareica to Gryphonstein, from Skogur to Neighpon...

But she had to look when cameras stormed Sky and microphones shot themselves to his face, and he said, “Yeah, she’s been great! I still can’t believe it! Sir, could you pinch me? Surely, I’d tell you if I woke up from this, right? She’s everything I wanted!”

Fishbowl

Sky made good progress for Ocean.

With the permission of (and some allowance from) Mayor Kiting, Sky Beak visited every place in town that wasn’t a house, and chatted with everyone who went in and out. The surveys didn’t rest on his claws this time; now, he had the questions in his head, and he would stick them into conversations without anyone noticing.

He’d learned a great deal. Nettle, for one, was good at more than just knitting and crocheting. He then asked whether they could be set up for sale in a store, and that ended up with him hawking the “Nettle Mettle merchandise” around town, with a sweater sewn on his tail as punishment.

After suffering that embarrassment, his next task was to pin notices in public places, reminding everyone that they had to open doors a little longer. Otherwise, a poor hippogriff would have his tail jammed, and he’d trip and fall. Lingon, the deer from the van, boasted that he wasn’t subject to that, but then his antlers got stuck in the doorway.

But while Sky was taping another notice in front of the café, he encountered Breezewood, an eccentric neighbor who’d insisted on wearing a tie every single day. Instead of banter, however, Breezewood kept his beak shut, letting the cargo he’d been pulling grab Sky’s focus: a huge fishbowl, containing a single goldfish, inside a wagon.

“So, no need for introductions, mister!” Breezewood proclaimed. “I’m sure this will do the trick for Ocean. You know about this, don’t you?”

“I, uh, saw it on a sign on the way here,” Sky said.

“Yeah! It’s a piece of modern art! I’ve been to Manehattan, and they stuck an apple on a wall and called it art! So I thought, well, suckers like you will get a load of this!” He stepped aside, seeing, giving Sky a better view of the lonely fish just sitting still. “It’s the thought, the concept, the thing of it! Art! Just give me some time, and I can get the wheels to move on their own via remote control... and you know what to do!”

“Uh, no. I don’t.”

“They pay me a dollar to pull my fish around for five minutes!”

He shot air out of his beak, whistling like a bird. “That’s... nice. But I still don’t catch your drift.”

“Are you daft?” Breezewood asked, agitated. “Doesn’t this fish here give you a clue about what you can do to impress Ocean?”

In another meeting with the Board, another emergency gathering for Ocean to attend from Basalt’s shore, Queen Novo had made it clear through a formal announcement. In discussion now was the fallout.

“So, that’s half a hundred million slashed,” Hope continued. “Almost a hundred. This is worse than I thought.”

The youngest and latest member of the Board mentioned that they still had enough to spend on existing projects, but as a tired Ocean pointed out, “We’ve yet to see how we’ll pay the construction companies when their workers can suddenly fly or can use spells to expedite the process. This is without changing blueprints because human height no longer applies to our architecture.”

The keen suggester bowed his head.

Ocean cleared her throat. “Well, what I meant to say is that they would face complications in light of the past week.”

When the meeting finished and the Board set to coast until at least half a year from now, she left the meeting there. She sat, half in the water, by the table and laptop that Sky had brought her.

As of late, he’d been returning with just the same. Just quick check-ups, and he’d scale the dirt path back up to help the town get used to being hippogriffs. He’d come back by dinnertime to bring in completed surveys and his own notes, then he’d disappear.

But yesterday was different.

Sky had stayed on the beach for longer, drinking in the sunrise right after she’d woken up. “They say we were early birds,” he’d then joked. “And now that we’re actual birds... I’ve become one.”

She laughed. “That’s terrible to know. When those rescue teams finally get to me, I’ll thank them because I won’t have to be lonely here in the water ever again, then fear that they’ll eat worms and vomit them into my beak.”

“Oh, but I’m here to keep you company, right?”

“Often enough, and you’re not vomiting your breakfast at me, so that’s a start.”

Sky snorted, then changed topics. “Hey, have you seen the footage on the news, about Mount Aris and Seaquestria? They’ve been eating good! Corals, sushi, fish... tea! They somehow got tea to work underwater.”

“Hmm. Fish eating fish. And we don’t mind it now.”

“Yeah... you know what? A trip there would be nice, cool our heads over there one day. Once this whole thing is over and you’re a hippogriff, we’ll travel there, get some real flying in.” He rotated his wings just enough without them hurting. “And they must have good sports, too, because they can fly! And since we’re half-horse too, I’d pay a thousand to see some aerial jousting.”

Silence had then left them alone, with Sky sitting down on the wet sand and Ocean half-stranding herself on the edge.

Today, though, she didn’t even have Sky but the laptop she’d closed. She sunk underneath, closing her eyes. Part of her report had been complete, and the findings were to be expected. There was no need for tour operators here because Basalt Flow barely had anything of note, save for the stuff obviously meant to lure in outsiders. Many Bays’ sashimi cart, and the low-quality wine from the vineyards just a few kilometers inland wouldn’t be enough. As for agritourism, that was out of the question with the farms being a considerable car trip away; the big cities also just had better-looking farms, with fatter harvests, just twenty minutes away from the metros.

Basalt Flow was a glorified pit stop.

“Hey, Ocean!”

She raised her head above the water once more, listening to him clear.

Sky was back. His cast leg still limped, and his wings were still bound, but he had a bouncier swing in his step.

He’d brought some friends.

“Hope you’re doing alright. Want to have some breakfast together? Good old times? Oh, and this here’s Leeway Cape and Lingon, the only tourists here, I’m afraid. They’d be glad to talk to you about your work.”

Ocean couldn’t suppress her smile. “That’s good. Glad that you could stay focused on government work for once.” Ignoring Sky’s brief scowl, “Well, I’m hungry. What did you bring?”

“Food from the gas station’s greasy spoon,” Sky said, and with Leeway’s and Lingon’s magic, several lunchboxes fell down upon a picnic mat.

Pancakes and waffles, drizzled with a fountain of syrup. Crispy gold hash browns had been topped with a dozen tiny onion rings, with the red meaty river of baked beans running through them. On the side lay a bowl of fresh coleslaw as well as dripping-wet cans of soda, cheap-brand packs of peanuts, and some slices of plain white bread.

“Oh, birdy boy, wait until I throw some bread crumbs your way!”

“You’ve got to be kidding—“

She crushed some bread in her fins and threw it at him, with Sky stretching his neck out to catch the crumbs, his beak snapping and clicking open.“Okay, I was not ready for that, I swear! Stupid bird instincts.”

They laughed, and with Ocean back to her work on the laptop as Sky tore at his waffles, she looked past her computer then made eye contact with the visiting guests on shore.

They shot the breeze. Leeway talked about the van just parked outside—him and Lingon, some old friends from college, doing a little road trip to enjoy the sights, and Lingon just happened to be on that business trip. The company had called to tell him that the meeting up in Dove Sandal would be canceled.

“And how was your stay here, for the both of you?” Ocean asked.

That set off several answers, starting with Leeway’s.

“Alright. I told Sky Beak some of it, but Basalt’s an okay town. Honestly—“ he looked over his back to make sure no one else had entered the beach “—I won’t have too many memories of this place. But it’s still quiet. I’d be afraid of having the whole pony thing happen while we were back in Aris City.”

“It’s not as chaotic in Aris as you might think,” Ocean said, “but that’s a fair perspective. And what about you, Lingon?”

Lingon wiped his head. “It’s hot and sweaty, and it’s only spring. You know how it is back in the north with Reine-Olenia. I had some overseas business here in Aracea, checking up some trucks and exports on fruits in the country.” He levitated a cup of iced coffee to his mouth. “Then this happens. I don’t mind it too much, though. The hippogriffs—er, the locals here were quite accommodating. Didn’t matter if I was obviously from out of town; they saw me, asked me if I was alright and if I could walk, then they started giving me cabbage.” Standing up to make a point, “Everyone just got turned. We all need each other’s help.”

Sky beat his chest. “While this town isn’t as famous for its attractions, the best part of any place is undeniably its good people. Hmm, maybe that’s one for the spreadsheet, hm, Ocean? ‘Conduct of region’s inhabitants towards tourists’ gets a thumbs-up from me.“

Ocean shook her head. “With your attitude, I know you can get everyone running to the vineyards just because you drew some marathon’s finish line over there.”

“Actually, you know what? Let’s do that! We’ll get you down and you can run with all of us! The first ever Basalt Marathon!”

She glared at him. “Did you forget I don’t have legs?”

“Then let’s hope they bring that shard over here soon, Ocean!”

Sky then dove back into demolishing his bread.

The hippogriff had gone on to talk to even more of Basalt, his face popping up in yet more of the small crowds gathered around TVs and radios. Sky still punched in time for his clerk job in the town hall, updating everyone’s records to also include individual species. All of Basalt later on had appointments in the town hall for getting their photos taken to aid this effort.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it, Miss Vapor Tide?” Sky said, getting the camera off and quickly inputting data on the computer, making sure it was just the tips of his talon for minimal damage. “Nice. And would you be joining the little marathon we’ve got all the way to the end of the town’s boundaries? It’s coming up in three days.”

“Oh, I don’t really mind! Is there any prize?”

“Ocean Flow’s here from the Board of Tourism, and she’s shelling in some prize money for the top three from her personal pocket.”

As for Ocean herself, she’d told him that the reports were almost done. Nothing had changed her initial judgment of the place as being beyond saving, but she’d promised to make a note about the little village’s warm hospitality.

Before the day would end, he found himself setting up the event’s finish line by the far-off vineyards. Fresh breeze swept him up, and the vast expanse of the farmland and the wheat fields swayed yet stood tall long past the grapes. His wings kept ruffling in the bandages, though the vet-turned-doctor removed a few more. His leg was getting better, too, subjected to less of a limp in his gait.

As he helped draw the line, setting up its ribbons, the radio blared more news from the capital.

“...and Equus’s Queen Novo has already sent in the first group of the hippogriffication team. Aris City is slated to have all its seapony population turned into hippogriffs by the end of next week, paving the way for what Aracea’s queen has said will be ‘an alliance between the parallel states.’”

“Do you think it’d be funny,” Stinger said as she finished up with the other side of the finish line’s rope, “if, like, we had our own versions on the other side?”

“Oh, wouldn’t it be nice?” he said. “I get to meet my other self, and you get to meet yours. And Ocean, too... though, what came first? The hippogriff or the seapony?”

“Hippogriff,” Stinger replied. “Sorry, I’ve been paying way too much attention to all the reports coming out there.”

“Oh, that’s alright. Everyone else has been, no?”

“Yup. I’m surprised you didn’t know that the whole seapony thing was actually a big emergency.”

“Emergency?”

“Yeah.” A small frown hit her. “A tyrant took over their land, so they had to retreat to the bottom of the ocean, build their life there until he was defeated.”

Sky tapped his claws together. “So you’re saying, that Ocean...”

“Oh, I wasn’t talking about her, but now that you mention it, yeah, if some guy didn’t invade a country in a world that we didn’t even know existed until a while ago, she probably wouldn’t be stuck there. Maybe you wouldn’t have to do all of her papers, too.”

“You’ve got a point,” he said gruffly, mindlessly tying some ribbon scraps around his claw.

The radio blared on with a PSA from Queen Novo reassuring everyone that everything would be fine.

The first few months after Terramar finally left home for the prestigious Hare Warden High School in Amareica were an awkward time.

Both Sky and Ocean had researched on the empty nest syndrome, but quickly scoffed it off. Their children had excelled in and out of school, and their decades-long duty was complete, so the couple could live out the rest of their lives as free man and woman.

But Sky now shivered in Aris City’s freezing autumn, seated in an SUV that he’d been told would be tailed by another from the government, to defend against the rare but never impossible paparazzi ambush.

They were headed to yet another restaurant, with good food though no wine.

The couple had woken up with just each other. She had her own patron university to chair, along with charity work across the strait, not to mention overseeing the bureaucracy behind the Global Games that would be taking place here in Aracea next year. On that last one, Sky could boast about putting in his feedback on how to maximize the hype of each event, if only because the Games had always looked awesome to him.

Sky also had his own dealings. With the children away, it’d been high time to get back into the pro-am cricket circuit, with inquiries already made for the coaching staff. While the International Cup would be far from his hands in the managerial position, he had the tactics, and he had flashed his high school/college credentials before. Most teams would come close to kidnapping a member of the royal family like him if it meant total domination over the domestic league.

True, the money he’d make off of sports for the rest of his life couldn’t begin to compare to what Ocean made in a month. Still, a dream come true was a dream come true for him.

At the table, the food would be a long time coming. Some spilled drinks from another table across, and one of the waiters broke his finger after burning his own leg with scalding hot tea.

The talk over the surface, once the mutual awkwardness across the restaurant died down, was about the poor man. Ocean could see Sky wince. Age would catch up to him; soon, he’d no longer be able to perform at even the middling levels of quality he was struggling to keep. She herself wasn’t getting any younger, but she chided herself mentally: she had much to do.

“So, how’s your sister?” Sky asked. He always asked that question, the first question he asked every meal time since the nest had been empty.

“The usual.” She tapped her fingers, waiting. “Novo’s been handling some trade deals involving international highways and railroads into a couple smaller Abyssinian towns.”

“Uh-huh.”

They turned their heads towards the kitchen. Their order was still cooking.

“What about you?” she asked. Last time she’d seen him other than in bed was the previous morning. “How did your match go against Caladium?”

“Went, uh, almost well. Then we had a batsman out hit wicket, and the rest was history.”

“Oh, breaking his own team’s bails? That must’ve been awful...” She’d named a college cricket league trophy after him.

“It is. A cold day for Cryo Geyser. He wants to take the rest of the season off, but I told him that he can’t quit over one bad day.”

Ocean took out her laptop from the bag, and the rest of dinner was history, tapping things out while sirloin steaks and trout served themselves on silver platters.

Today was Sky’s most free day of the week, but Ocean had seen his calendar, too. There would be training with the cricket team today, as well as talking with some cycling club he was planning with to make a fifty-kilometer journey into the southern mountains.

~~~

“That would be three hundred dollars, ma’am,” said the waiter, who snapped her out of her work.

It struck Ocean like lightning, then she took out her credit card. “In full. No royal discounts, please. And dear, Sky Beak, what would you say was the best of the dinner here? I think it was top-notch, all things considered.”

Sky tapped his fingers on the table. “I did like the trout a lot. That experimental juice was quite a delight. I had no idea you could make juice out of salmon.”

The waiter bowed and nodded. “Thank you very much!”

With everything paid, Ocean stood up, and Sky stood up too. They left the place and got back into the limousine.

“We return home to refresh with a bath and a set of clothes,” she muttered to herself, “then we’re back outside.”

“And I’ll be taking this car too, if you don’t mind,” he said.

The next time she’d end up seeing Sky Beak other than in bed would be after his cricket team started a new season.

That was April of next year.

DNF

In the Amareican Northeast, Maizelle University’s graduation ceremony had come and gone, and Silverstream graduated with flying colors.

But Sky and Ocean had decided to travel around, diplomacy still on the table as the Amareican president had been scheduled to meet with her, and Sky had signed up for biking competitions in the region.

In between a hectic presidential visit and the start of a triathlon, the two of them had gone on alone. Sky had earlier refused getting his “royal allowance,” as he put it, from Ocean. He had his own money to pay for the sights around town, to see the Freedom Statue and get a slice of Manehattan’s world-famous pizza. There were even kayaks wading through the rivers that wound around the island megalopolis.

So he’d went, come, and gone.

Even from within the dark, comforting crevice, through a dozen meters of water, Ocean could hear him loud and clear.

“I’ve got something good!”

And there he was, pulling a wagon precariously down the dirt path to the beach, past the signs of not leaving behind your belongings there.

Sky stopped before Ocean, pushing the wagon forward to let her see. Strapped on top of the wagon was a fishbowl.

“What are you doing with that thing?” Ocean asked. “Are you... what is it?”

“It’s a fishbowl, Ocean!” he said, slapping it on its glass surface. “Big enough to fit you and this goldfish we’ve found!”

Ocean crossed her fins, paying no mind to the confused fish staring at her. “You’ve got to be kidding me. Just because I’ve got gills and scales now, you somehow think this is endearing.”

“Endearing? What’s not endearing about getting you out of the beach and letting you move around?”

Ocean blinked. The wagon’s wheels were now her top priority; to her, they seemed sturdy enough, if rather worn down by outdated roads. But more than that, a couple antennae stuck out from the wagon, connected to the wheels by wires barely covered in plastic. “Did you...?”

“No, I didn’t make it, but it’s that big fishbowl ‘tourist trap,’ if you could call it that. The creator was a... nice guy? Okay, he was a guy, and now you get to use it! You can move around, and you can still work with this desk over here.” He took out a mini table and clamped it on the rim of the bowl. “Now, how about that?”

Ocean could only look on, her fin holding up her scaly chin. “Wow, that’s... that’s actually wonderful. How thoughtful of you...”

Sky could only grin. “Indeed, it is. You still have to give Breezewood major credit. Now, it won’t just be me out there.”

Ocean’s eyes widened the second time this week. “Won’t just be you out where?”

“The marathon, honey! I’ll be helping around!”

The windows and doors emptied themselves of their residents, and the roads flooded with hippogriffs stretching their limbs for the marathon ahead. Leeway and Lingon had expressed a desire to join, and the two could be found doing jumping jacks on all fours; Lingon even had a headband right under his antlers.

Sky Beak pranced around, counting down the minutes through the microphone, leading everyone to the starting line situated just a dozen meters from the gas station. Already, those not in the running were turning on their cameras, and some police from the bigger townships in the parish had been summoned just in case.

Sky Beak then looked up at Stinger flinging her talons left and right across a couple of laptops, handling social media for the marathon. “How’s it going?”

“Uh, we’ve gotten over a dozen reshares and reposts, tons of replies from all over the shire. Everyone really wants to get back to normal, huh?”

“That’s good! Ah, how about we say that this road was also the birthplace of the first Basalt Flow Marathon!”

Stinger could only shake her head as Sky’s constant bird-screeching, which he’d figured out just yesterday, filled the town.

And Ocean Flow would also be running, or more accurately, enjoying the occasion by participating. She most likely wouldn’t win or even scrape the top ten, but the remote control had a couple settings for speed. Breezewood had said he’d be out of town to get better batteries, make the fishbowl more permanent for her, but told her that royalty should be more than free to handle his property wisely.

Either way, she was finishing up her report then sending it to the Board when the last call for runners screamed through the speakers.

Ocean had gone to the galleries, and traces of herself popped out at her. Aracean artists, sculptors, sponsored by her. Manehattan knew her name, and its new-money socialites paid her their respects.

“Oh no,” she said, then she deflected their attention away by turning her back to them, turning herself toward the latest piece of neo-romanticism. Her heart swelled three times in a single hour, seeing vast landscapes and mosaics of Aracean history in thousands of intricately planned brush strokes. An Aracean painter was hosting his own exhibition, and he ended up shaking hands with her multiple times, profusely thankful, unaware that he was invading her personal space.

Of course, a visit to the Convocation of Countries’ Headquarters wouldn’t just be nice—it had already been scheduled. Already, there’d been expectations of her, with diplomats and lesser officials hoping to greet her and pave inroads into Aracea’s resources.

But as she and Sky agreed, they’d meet at the World-Famous First-Ever Roamane’s Pizzeria for lunch.

It’d been over a year since they’d last eaten out together.

The bowl tipped over.

Against the rush of the starting gun, Ocean’s world shrank. She and that wet spot on the road became everything to her.

“Sky Beak!” She coughed, choking for air. “No, no, don’t hurry! You’ll—!”

“Agh!”

A running Sky found pain shooting up against his leg. His wings flapped hard, ripping apart the few scant bandages that’d remained, but he and his broken leg leapt across turned-up asphalt pocked with jagged potholes.

Sky found himself writhing on that small puddle, curled up against his broken leg, with one wing pinned to the ground, all the scattered fragments underneath shooting against hard, hot, crude asphalt.

“No, Ocean, no! I’m... I’m bringing you out of here!”

“Are you... crazy? You can... barely stand... up yourself!”

Cramping against the knives of torment racing through their veins, they lay in the shallow water.

But Sky stood up, tried to, though not too far; she pushed soft fins against the stubborn road, supporting herself against Sky as her own body and lungs dried up, shriveling fast.

“Hey, hey!” The faces of Stinger, Kiting, and Leeway and Lingon appeared in their blurry visions. “We need to get you—“

“No, I need to take her to the beach, right now!” Sky yelled.

A splash of water shot from Leeway’s bottle for the marathon, and he quickly grabbed Ocean by the fin. “Come on, let’s get her out of here! Lingon, get the other fin and her tail! You two, carry Sky!”

At the World-Famous First-Ever Roamane’s Pizzeria, they ate.

“So how’re things?” Ocean said.

“It’s fine,” Sky replied.

A whole pizza sat in its box, plain cheese and pepperoni. Rowdy students were coming in to order a stack of pizzas for themselves. They didn’t know who this royal couple was, but the both of them looked at them longer than expected.

Then, eye contact was made.

“Oh hey, I know you from my politics class a while back!” said some starling student from one of the nation’s top universities across the bridge.

The couple smiled together. “Why, yes,” Ocean started. “And who do you suppose we are, just to be sure?”

“Miss Ocean Flow and Mister Sky Beak! You’re practically Aracean blueblood!”

“Not the same!” Sky said, all perked up and raising his hand. “But you’re getting close.”

The initial commotion drew in a curious crowd; the students gawked at them before Ocean invited them to eat pizza together. They’d learned their names, the first questioner being some Cambling overseas student named Ocellus. Ocean and Sky fielded a great many questions, covering the economy as well as its diverse geography. Sky took out his camera to show them photos from across the nation’s natural landmarks, while Ocean cited current political events against and relating to the backdrop of history.

When all was said and done, they’d left, and their pizza was finished.

“Argh, I’m late,” Ocean said, already standing up. “Those kids were nice, but they’ve taken a toll on our time.”

Sky nodded. “Same, a bit.” He checked his watch. “Yeah, I’ll miss a meet-up at the Amareican Tennis Open. I hope I could still train with Reef Noel.”

“I’ll just call someone there to give you a seat of honor and you’re in.”

“Thanks.”

They left the restaurant, away from each other, disappearing into the busy pandemonium of suffocating Manehattan traffic.

Gifts

The sun had set on the manor. The couple having just gotten home within minutes of each other, they surprised each other with the same idea:

A romantic dinner.

Several lit candles and half a dozen roses later, a huge plate of steak paired with glasses of sparkling red wine graced their presence by the balcony.

“Ah, ah,” Sky said, holding out a hand. “Before you eat, I have one more surprise.”

Ocean put her own hand in her suit pocket. “Oh, really? Because I’ve one more for you, too.”

They wouldn’t confess to each other that they blushed together.

“Okay,” Sky began, “how about this? We close our eyes, count to three, then show what we’ve got.”

Ocean perched her head on a hand. “That’s childish, but no harm done, so...”

They counted, each clutching the gift in their hands. Though blind, they inched their gifts closer to their glass table.

“Three!”

And their eyes opened. Their mouths also opened, stuck agape.

“Sky... is that a printed paper of some free font online saying ‘Happy Anniversary’? With a... less-than-sign and three?”

“That’s a heart, dear. And I made the whole thing myself. Better than just funding the postcard industry, am I right?” he said,then he stopped. “But... wait, what’s that... dress?”

“A cricket uniform, blooming with color,” she said, having unfolded the thing before him. “Cricket whites, they say, but I ordered it custom-made to be more than white.”

“No, no, you’ve got it wrong, honey,” he said. “It’s tradition to keep it just white. Take it up with the Grittish to spoil it with blue, red, yellow everywhere...”

“It’s commemorative! And at least I put effort in this! Want to know why I had this as well as this dinner? Because...” Her breath hitched. “Because we’ve been fizzling... you and I know it. So I thought, hey... why don’t we just calm down and eat by the sunset? Like the first time.”

Sky nodded. “Yeah... me too, really. You being away a lot... well, I’m away a lot, too. Takes me away, and well... at least you and I can recognize when you did it yourself. I did say no to postcards, right?” He chuckled. “See? This is made from Neighponese paper; it’s clearly different from ordinary paper!’

“Sky, you’re missing the point of Neighponese paper.”

“Okay, honey, at least what I did was an error. I made a mistake. You, on the other hand... I’m afraid that garish circus is gonna get you burned by rowdy fans.”

“Oh, so you know so much about cricket!. spending all your time there in your leagues. What about spending at least a few minutes a day learning how to make some proper art so you could show me some effort in your gift?”

Sky stood up. “You’re... you just boggle my mind sometimes, Ocean. It’s not like I can magically summon a championship for the occasion!”

Then Ocean scraped the chair as she rose. “Well, at this rate, maybe a championship wouldn’t be enough to salvage that thing gift shops won’t call a postcard.”

“Oh, while we’re on that, why don’t you spend a few minutes a day learning how cricket works?”

“In my position? So swamped in geopolitics?”

“Now you’re seeing where I’m getting at?”

“No, because I’m not being paid millions of dollars to bat some balls around!”

“Yeah, and you get paid to sit and look pretty like a princess while your underlings do the hard work?”

“That’s delegating!”

“No, it’s—!”

The wobbling of glass stole their attention.

Wine had been spilled, his on his paper, hers on heruniform.

The trek to the beach stretched a lifetime.

Her lungs contracted, suffocating in the open air. To her, that very thought had become a cosmic terror, a reversal of reality itself.

Labored in her held breath—with Leeway and Lingon constantly throwing bottled water at her—she pried her eyes open. She snatched the scent of salt, that refreshing smell of the sea.

“One, two, three!”

They flung her into the air, and the vast horizon that overflowed with precious water splashed life back to Ocean.

At Sky’s insistence, Kiting had kept the marathon going, taking Sky’s place at the finish line to award the winners.

With most of the town having not yet returned, Basalt Flow had devolved into a ghost town.

The gas station’s cafe ran on a skeletal staff for today. Sky, hours after the incident, nibbled on a little sandwich and some peanuts as his leg held a thicker cast. He found it amusing that two foods he’d never cared about suddenly became his favorites.

The TV never left the news channels these days. This hour saw a report that the hippogriffication teams would be finishing up the rest of the big cities soon; their next targets would be a sweep of the coastal areas beyond the major urban centers, including Basalt’s shire. Next week, somegriff would come and bring Ocean back to dry land for good.

The other nations had been hit much harder. America, for example, didn’t have the mercy of opposable thumbs, with most everyone becoming ponies, though some could fly and others could levitate things.

Cambling’s citizens had become changelings, and much politics was now slung about on the topic of solving national hunger or not by just loving each other. Relationships were scrutinized, put under the magnifying glass on whether they were real or now simply a way to avoid starvation. Their leader was happy with the change, however, judging by the pink flows of love magic drifting through in Cambling’s stock footage.

In that vein of love, a pony nation from the other side called the Crystal Empire declared that they’d be sending more ponies to help with relief efforts in Amareica. Sky mentally mocked the leader’s title, the Princess of Love, a funny pink unicorn with a heart on her flank, whose husband was a literal white knight, also a unicorn.

Live on camera, they shared a quick kiss.

Ocean sat below the surface, back underneath the crevice and the coral that had been her pillow.

Stinger had told her that her belongings were in Sky’s safe claws and that there’d be someone to look after her, but no one was there, standing on the sands, when she bobbed her head up.

She sank back down.

The ocean’s invigorating freedom insulted her. Novo had shared that Seaquestria kept touting the underwater city as a seapony paradise, with an abundance of food and amenities. But they also had real homes, with infrastructure and funding. This ocean was free, but it was a free land of nothing.

She sat on another coral, above the crevice. Then, off she swam, away from the beach.

Not much ground was covered until the beach shrank into the horizon. She imagined a cruise ship getting its money worth with a thousand people on its decks, taking pictures, adoring the sights of the boundless sea that surrounded them. The water smelled great, and she could see fish darting everywhere just underneath.

A school of fish passed her by, capturing her eye for art before a stray jellyfish was spotted, floating to parts unknown. The rainbow of the corals’ colors then became eye candy to her, bending with the current, like plants but much livelier than their terrestrial counterparts. She cradled one of them in her fin, and their soft texture blessed her scales. She took a bite out of it as well. Crunchy, but strangely juicy, like an exotic fruit from a tropical island.

When she took her head out of the water again, she saw a silhouette flying over the beach.

Sky’s eagle eyes were enough to see Ocean coming back from afar.

He softly landed on the beach, making sure his bad leg would touch down gingerly. “Ah, glad that you’re here,” he finally said upon her return.

“Glad?” she said. “I just... how careless was that?!”

“Careless?” he said. “The remote dying was an accident, and you know it!”

“But it was your idea—“

“—that was inspired by your plan!” he said. “And you also hopped on with no hesitation!”

“Me? I just... I wanted to build something, of value, not just go around dilly-dallying—“

“Oh, so you’re calling my work, my talents, my life is just running around and getting fit? Do you know how hard mountaineering is? Or the intense endurance of having to bike around? Or well... how much I wanted to fly this whole time?!”

“And what do you think I’m doing?”

“That it’s... it’s alright, yes, and I understand that you’re royal, but what about taking a break? Riding with me? Or just trying out the simple stuff like ziplining once in a while?”

“I’m a busy woman—“

“Exactly!”

“Hey, it’s not like you’re without sin, Sky,” she said. “Always rather short-sighted, getting the heat or thrill of the moment. I took care of my position, cultivated my status in the family and in the nation, reared the children while you were gallivanting around, then continued with my work across the country once that was done.”

“Which made you too busy for anything else! All you do is just work and sleep!”

“Aren’t your muscles your work?”

“Yes, but you... I’ve also been trying to do your paperwork, and have been helping you—“

“And I’ve been helping you, too! You’re only here, high up where you are, because of me!”

“And you’re only down-to-earth and closer to the people because of me!”

They shouted those last words at the same time. Then, one ascended the dirt path, and the other descended the sea, apart.

Break

“Ocean?” Novo asked.

And Ocean perked up in the office, the royal sisters typing away at their computers but seated on the same couch.

“I’vecalled you three times,” she said. Novo closed the program on her screen. “Something wrong?”

Ocean could only fidget. “It’s Sky.”

Her sister could only groan. “Complaining about Sky again?”

“It’s not complaining, and you know it.” Ocean also closed the program on her computer. “This time, it’s missed calls. But they just so happen to—“

“Take place during your Board meetings,” Novo said. “You’ve already told me that it’s hectic in the tourism sector. The new ferris wheel in Silver Bay, getting in touch with the country’s top influencers, protests about visitors overcrowding the Dieffenbach village—“

“Because I’m done with just sitting pretty and just putting my name on programs and sending in money,” she said. “Like I told you, I’m putting in all the work a noble must do.”

Novo’s shoulders slacked as she turned the program back on.

“Don’t worry,” Ocean continued. “I’ll call him after the 18:00 meeting. Hopefully, I can get him before we have that dinner with the new Cambling government.”

~~~

Sky’s lungs burned as he rested his weight on a sturdy oak tree, close enough to the bike trail.

“Hey,” called out Fallow, a fellow biker in Sky’s group, having just stopped beside him. “Something wrong?”

“I... I got a missed call,” Sky managed to breathe out, his sweaty finger swiping on the phone gripped tight onto the bicycle’s handlebar.

“From who?” Fallow said.

“Uh... wife. The miss.” He squinted his eyes to the top of the screen. “Argh, cell coverage here’s dying. Could I back up?”

“We’re already running behind the rest of the pack,” Fallow said, motioning a hand towards the tire marks against the trail, lonely against a scattered sea of rock and grass. “I bet that can wait. ‘Sides, we’re as far enough from civilization as is.”

Sky’s eyes jumped between Fallow and his phone. “I’ve been trying to get her for some time now...”

But after a minute of watching the cell coverage fail on his phone, he gripped the handlebars and pedaled forward.

Ocean Flow had received a lot of gifts until dinner, many wishes for her already finished recovery from the scare back in the marathon. She even got a pillow from the same kid who had questioned her existence. It was the least that Basalt Flow could do for the hands-on noble.

Breezewood returned the next day from a trip to buy batteries, apologizing seven times to Ocean, with bows and kneeling, swearing he’d give a bigger cut of his earnings to the government as “extra retribution tax.” Ocean did not pay him much attention but thanked him for lending the fishbowl.

It was a shame, though. The fishbowl survived even if cracked. Breezewood did say later that he would advertise the Cracked Fishbowl of Basalt to every car passing them by.

Not that she would stay to see the results of that stunt.

“I do apologize for the big delay,” Novo said in a video call, “but we have the hippogriffication team on the way there.”

Ocean let out a sigh. “Finally. Thank you, Novie.”

Novo smacked her own head with her claws. Her talons were fortunately sheathed. “Promise me to not call me Novie until the winter holidays?”

“No promises on that one,” Ocean teased. “Now, anything else?”

Novo scratched her chin. “How’s Sky Beak? It’s been a whirlwind of emergency activity around here, but I heard that he was there.”

“Yeah, he’s doing fine. Nice coincidence, isn’t it?”

“It is, indeed.” Novo checked ruffled some papers and her feathers in the background. “Oh, and she’s coming in an hour. She said that you’ll know it’s her.”

That sent Ocean leaning closer to the computer. “What do you mean? What’s her name?”

Novo’s smile went cryptic. “You’ll see.”

Right before lunch, she did see.

Sky had given her a mirror to look at herself on the first day. There was a special charm to her old appearance blended in with her new aquatic form. Fin-like hair flowed out of her head, while transparent “wings” sprouted from her back, just like in a fairy tale.

So when the hippogrification team member arrived, she had a double take, swearing that she was looking in the mirror once more, though this hippogriff Ocean Flow looked different enough, with a hard beak to replace a soft fishy muzzle, and feathers giving her a rougher aura than with scales.

The greetings were fast and professional. The other Ocean Flow nodded as the seapony said, “I’m more than ready to get out of here.”

And with that, she held onto the firm claw of her other self, and she felt a great thrum of magic overcome her. After a flash of light, Ocean landed. Air rushed into her lungs, freeing her from the sea. She relished the flexibility of her claws, and her wings spread against the sunlight, making her out to be an angel.

“There, there,” Flow said with a laugh. “Feeling better now?”

“Yes, yes. Thank you very much.”

“That’s good. I don’t usually go out of my way to be a hippogriff, but duty calls.” She cocked her head. “And your sister did tell me about you; I just had to see for myself. My sister—er, your sister told me that you hold a great position in this world’s government. I’ll have to go through the rest of the coast, but I think we’ll meet again. Perhaps you can come over and see Seaquestria around.”

Ocean blushed.

“Would you need any assistance? Getting your belongings in order before you move on? I heard you were in the middle of something.”

“No need. I’ll just go. Back to work, finally...”

“Alright, then. If you’re fast enough, I’ll see you up ahead.”

So Flow launched herself into the air, flying fast with a shrilling eagle screech. She then vanished into the horizon.

A minute later, Ocean did the same, the liberating rush of the open air guiding her to the hotel.

While Sky alternated between more paperwork during his lunch break in the diner, the chaos and confusion around the world died down, giving way to friendship through reconstruction between the two universes.

A portal network would be established across the world, starting with the major international cities, including Aris. Guides to magic would be printed out or put up online, and, at least from Equestria, a major initiative would be pushed to incentivize immigration of ponies and other creatures to the other side to help advance the knowledge and development of yet more magic on Earth.

It was while hearing this that he heard of Leeway and Lingon leaving.

“Already?” Sky said, looking at the both of them as they got themselves ready.

“Well, kind of,” Leeway said. “Lingon here’s gonna finish that business trip anyway and see if everyone’s alright at the warehouse. Me? I’m going back to Aris City, then take a plane home.” He slapped Sky on the withers. “Heh, it’s just flying birds here while we’ve got unicorns.”

“Hey, hippogriffs are majestic and you know it!”

Once lunch was done, he accompanied them to the gas station as they left for good in their van. There were thanks for his time and for enjoying Basalt. They’d even bought a postcard: Wish you were here! Though it was just an ink drawing, the souvenir would end up a lovely memento.

After that, the number of Basalt’s outsiders had dwindled down to just him.

~~~

“Glad to see that you’re up and about,” Kiting said in the town hall, looking at Sky’s unfurled wings. “How’s flying treating you?”

“As good as advertised!” Sky said, and he flapped his feathers in joy while finishing some paper work. “They said we’re not going back, right? Back to being human, I mean.”

“Yes, but... I’m fortunate we still have good history teachers and books for that.” Kiting put himself down on a wooden chair. “Ah, and I’ve already informed you, right? A bit of a miracle, I must say, but even with that nasty fall today, I heard you should be fine in just a few more days. You’ll be back to tour guiding by then, no ifs or buts.”

Sky couldn’t hide his grin. “Yes, sir.”

“Oh, that’s... good,” he said. Kiting arched a brow. “Almost forgot... we should give our thanks to Ocean! The marathon was a smashing success, yes, but we couldn’t have done it without her!”

“Oh right!”

After Sky got one more stack of papers signed and checked, he flew straight to the beach.

He didn’t find her.

Up

In the summer, Sky Beak flew over the small band of tourists visiting Basalt Flow.

“And this is the beach, Basalt Shore,” he said, getting his claws all over the sand. “With your binoculars, you can see several fishing boats from the nearby villages of Eggrich and Boar’s Cay! Just swim a couple meters from here and you’ll already encounter a little reef teeming with corals and jellyfish, not to mention the wide variety of fish that inhabit the Aracean shores such as the plump triggerfish and, if you go far down enough the coast, needlefish! Oh, and if you’re not familiar, don’t eat those! They’re inedible.

“But of course, it’s not like most of the other famous beaches you see in Aracea, for this one’s not given the beach nourishment treatment! For the environmentally minded among you, that’s good news! It preserves the aquatic life that thrive here, and what you see is what you will get when you bring your children and grandchildren over here over the next few decades!”

His audience took out their phones, and selfies appeared at the sound of fake snaps, their claws wrapped around their phones. They then split off to relax on the beach, and Sky went claws-off once he saw family and friends gather around on a picnic mat, ready to feast on bread, fruit, and deli.

It was enough to make Sky sit down on the stand, lie on his back, and contemplate as the sun baked his feathers.

Among them, a deer was hiking up to him, in sunglasses and all.

Sky quickly sat up. “Wait, Lingon?"

“Ah, nice! We both remember each other!” Lingon then extended his hoof out for a shake.

After standing up, Sky took Lingon’s hoof into his claw. “Well, good to see you! What brings you here? You came in alone?”

“Oh, Leeway gave me his van a while back, but I’ll just cut to the chase,” Lingon said. “I’m on another business trip in the country, but you’re the business I’m meeting with.”

Sky stopped shaking. “That’s an honor! But what for?”

Lingon winced at the sand getting stuck in his cloven hooves once he got back to all fours. “So, that company I was working for last time we talked? It’s under a huge conglomerate, and there’s a travel agency that could use some of your... spice.”

“Spice?”

“They’re calling for up-and-coming assistant guides for the first ever post-Change tour around Table Mount! There’s a lot of newbies hiding under the wings, but it doesn’t hurt to try.”

“Hm. That’s good, but why the rush? This high-profile stuff’s always got herds rushing in to apply.”

Lingon bit his tongue.

“Oh, something you’re not telling me?”

“Uh, yeah, Sky. Not something but someone. I mean—” he cleared his throat “—I don’t think it’s in my place to talk about your personal relationships, but that travel agency does fall under the Tourism Board’s jurisdiction...”

~~~

The answer kept him up at night.

He’d tried to sleep in the hotel. The cool wind wafting in from the open window delivered the gentle wash of waves from the sea.

But his claw tapped on the phone still charging on his desk. One app was on, checking for messages.

His last message had been an apology. Her last had been an apology, too. They would make up for it, they’d both said, Ocean fulfilling her promise on getting Sky a good deal after Basalt Flow, and Sky taking that deal, no questions asked, and doing his best.

He sat there, drinking in the ticking of the cuckoo clock. Though it did ring, it did not rattle his head with explosive bird sounds.

There was a television or TackTube to watch. Late night news, more of the same old diplomacy, though it was nice to see that Aracea would be sending some diplomats to the other side and take discussions of an alliance further.

A colder wind got him to stand up and see Basalt Shore once more.

The moon unearthed many pearls of lunar reflection upon the sea. High-tide waves crept up the sands, washing away all claw- and hoofprints from the morning tour. The smell of sea salt was heavenly.

But the sea was empty.

Ocean parked just outside the manor, Novo having driven her there. It’d been a long trip already from Manehattan, from the Convocation of Countries Headquarters to negotiate treaties and deals, and hold speeches with a bevy of leaders from both worlds.

Then came the invitation from Mount Aris’s Queen Novo.

“It’s a lot, isn’t it?” Ocean spoke from the passenger’s side. “Your niece’s little presentation did win me over in the end.”

A giggle left Novo's beak. “That’s my other niece, from the other side.”

“Yes, your... well, the Equestrian Skystar,” Ocean corrected. “Even with that, it’s a daunting prospect, staying there until next spring.”

“Not as daunting when you realize that both worlds have grown more similar by the day. Remember, you won’t be literally staying there the whole time. It’s a back-and-forth kind of deal.”

Ocean then ran a claw through the feathers that counted as her hair. “Still, a kingdom from Earth versus an artificial mountain that shouldn’t be that tall and an underwater city that shouldn’t even hold its weight under said mountain...”

“Sci-fi books say we’ll have cities on the ocean in a century; we’re just accelerating the process,” Novo said with a chuckle, her claws dancing on the steering wheel. “You must admit, Mount Aris having their own tourism board must be a trip for you, though their Ocean Flow isn’t a part of it.”

Ocean had heard snippets about the life of her Equestrian self. Flow did help around in the government, bouncing from position to position and granting royal patronage, but her home in the sea had told Ocean that she would stick with being a seapony forever. And the Equestrian Sky Beak was a part of the military or national security, at least, holding weekend ceremonies called “Proud to be a Hippogriff Day.” Her own Sky was right; there was aerial jousting.

“It’s about Sky, isn’t it?”

After being shocked cold, Ocean did nod.

Novo laid a claw on her shoulder. “I suggest you tell me what happened, and we’ll work out or schedule from there. They’ll be expecting an answer by tomorrow, and if we say yes, we’ll go this Sunday.”

With that, Novo left. Ocean silently thanked her for not having any security stiffs watching her every step of the way.

Inside, after a bath that consisted of liberal amounts of shampoo, she headed back to her bedroom. On her phone, she re-read the last texts from him and herself. The conglomerate’s new recruit Lingon, knowing Sky from some years ago, had brought about a nice bout of serendipity.

Without a moment’s hesitation, she put the phone on call.

“Hello? Ocean, are you there?”

“Yes, Sky. Finally. Were you busy the whole time?”

“No, I was actually trying to call you.”

“Me, too. Huh… that hasn’t happened before.

“Yup, that’s true.”

An exasperated sigh breathed through the line. “So, you first. Why were you calling?”

“I… uh, I have to tell you that I’ll be going soon. Any dates or any make-up stuff planned out? It has to be this weekend, and since tonight’s already the end of Friday, it’ll be a hassle.”

“Where are you going?”

“Well… to be honest, even if you secretly wanted me to not take it, I still would.”

“Oh, so Lingon told you?”

“Yeah. Figured it was a surprise sooner or later, but still. You’ve already made the arrangements, it seems, so long as I say yes. I was planning to say ‘later’ to it, but then the mayor recommended me for the job without me knowing. I guess the recent rumors about him going senile—but he means well, I know, paying me while I was injured with the whole paper work deal. I could refuse, but I’d be wasting some company’s time. Not to mention making a scandal, too. They’ll find out that you offered this to me, no matter how much political machinery you use to tie this info up. You know how politics can be, with me being attached to you.”

Laughter roared from her side. “That’s a good one! Heh, I can’t say it’s on the same level as yours, but I would also have to be going by Monday.”

“Going where?”

There was a sigh. “The other world. Equus. I’ll be going to Mount Aris and Seaquestria, get our Tourism Board to meet with theirs, coordinate, and all the other politicking.”

“I’ve heard that you and I are quite the pair on the other side.”

“Oh, that is true. Could you believe it? About their Ocean Flow being happy with being a seapony and keeping it that way?”

“And me really being into salmon juice. I just thought it was some rich snob fusion cuisine or whatever.”

“You sought to marry a rich snob, so that’s on you.”

“Heh. Caught me red-clawed.”

There was silence on the line.

“So, any last-minute plans, Sky? On my end, I can’t really book something out of Saturday tomorrow. There’s one more meeting with the Aris representatives before Novo and I go. And no, you can’t be their personal tour guide; they insisted on seeing everything for themselves.”

“A rotten way to be a tourist.” There was some crackled chuckling. “What a shame.”

“So, I guess you’re not available on Saturday? I was hoping…”

“Maybe not? I want to smooth things out with the mayor and Lingon before I go, and even if I get myself out of the mess, I’d then be contractually obligated to be a tour guide in Basalt for at least nine more months… oh, but it’s the weekend, right? But I’ll still be on contract for about that long, whether in Basalt or Table Mount.”

“And I’ll be off in another world for about the same time.”

“The negotiations last that long?”

“Novo said I’ll be moving back and forth, but I’ve seen the road plan. It’s not looking pretty for any rest or vacation back home.”

“Yikes.”

“Yikes, indeed, though that’s what you get for being a public servant in the midst of the worst magical phenomenon of all time.”

There was a long sigh from Sky. “At least we can both fly now, so I reckon it was worth it.”

She did laugh again. “You and being in the moment. That’s going to be the end of you some day.”

“And you being stuck with building everything else except the present… that’ll be the end of you some day, dear.”

Yet more silence.

“I’ll see what I can whip up in a jiffy,” Ocean then said.

“I get the final say as well, since you’re the puppeteer,” Sky replied.

“Oh, and what would you choose?”

“I… hmm, you know? In all of our national visits, we never did spend more than a day in the countryside.”

“The countryside, huh? That… is a good respite.”

“Or a little village by the shore.”

One last stretch of silence took over.

“Alright. I’ll see you when I see you, Sky. Expect to be at the airport tomorrow night, which is when we’ll have both decided where to go. Also, when we get there, calm down from all the spelunking or rock-climbing or whatever it is you were doing these days.”

“Hah. See you, too, Ocean. I’ll also make sure you won’t stress about the world while we’re there.”

The fishing village of Goldtail hadn’t seen better days than these; the boats kept coming.

Bridges of timber buttressing stone crisscrossed the settlement, linking bungalows standing only dozens of meters away from the sea. Only one parking lot remained, but for Sky and Ocean, that was more than enough.

They hung out in a boat, led by a fishergriff who doubled as their guide, instructing them on how to pull the net when fish came up, all on a boat powered by an ear-splitting engine.

“Come on!” Sky shouted, smiling as Ocean tried to pull the sagging net onto the tilting boat. “They’re just fish!”

“But they’re alive!”

“And we’ve got claws for the job! Just heave!”

The glorious bounty included common tuna and salmon, but fat and juicy jobfish and emperors that called these coasts home also ended up on their laps. They met their fate inside coolers partly made out of coconut shells.

Their journey ended in a big cooking house of old brick and stone. This time, Ocean took the lead, putting some seasoning over the juicy, fat slices of fish heating up on the charcoal grill.

“You hold the knife like this,” she told Sky, handling it well in her claw. “No, not like that! There… and angle it this way, so you don’t accidentally cut into the skin.”

“This is why I eat out most of the time.”

“You’re missing out,” Ocean said as she took on another raw fish. “Isn’t it nice to expand even just a little into making the very food you eat? You can make masterpieces like this for yourself once you’re good enough.”

And the masterpiece was served for everyone there once the sun had set, grilled in nothing more than salt and some citrus for flavor. Cooked to a light crisp over the fire, their sliced remains sat surrounded by herbs, spices, and vegetables, their pink-cooked meat glinting against the soft flames that lit up the gathering hall.

Everyone in Goldtail had a good meal that night.

Ocean woke up to the noise of ruffling.

She got up. The hut had been cramped; it was the best nature could offer, at the smallest space nature could affordably house two people.

“Honey? Sky?”

She did not hear him respond, but the wind whistled in the sky.

Through the window, she could see a silhouette having just landed on the sand.

She stood at the window and took off, gliding her way to his side.

Outside, the night would’ve chilled their old human skin to the bone, but their new coats of feathers and hair kept them warm.

“You’re gonna ask me something, right, Ocean?” Sky asked.

“How do you know?” she asked back.

“Because I just… know.”

They stared at each other without a word. Their faces had their feathers rumpled up, and their beaks had a few scratches already from the fishing trip.

“It’s just past five,” she said. “Soon, it’s a trip back to Aris City, and we part ways for the better part of a year, so you better say it.”

He nodded. “What I mean to say is… you’ve got plans when we’re done with our thing?”

“Hmm, you got them too. Back in the house… or maybe some place smaller. More intimate.”

“You know I like that word.”

“Shut it, you.”

They sat down, feeling the coolness of unfamiliar yet precious white sand against their legs. The fading in and out of the water was a beat their hearts slowly drummed to.

“Where’s the time gone?” he said. “We’re over fifty now, and here we are, talking like we just met for the first time.”

“Maybe because we just did.”

Sky flicked a talon close to his eyes. “I like the sound of that much better.”

Ocean stretched her hindlegs forward to feel the spray of the sea. “It won’t be easy. Just having to be with each other for a little was testy enough, but we can see each other some more. For one, I didn’t really know you’d be into fishing.”

“And I didn’t know you were scared of live fish!” After a glare from Ocean, “But I I also never really did think of you as someone so interested in cooking.”

“I am. Dabbled in culinary classes, asked whatever chefs Novo would send me, watching videos on TackTube… it’s like riding a bike. It comes back to me when I really get into it, when I have the time.”

“And fishing… well, I’m getting on in years. I heard it’s an old man’s pastime.” A nervous giggle left him.

For the two, the world shrank. It became only the soft white sand, the simmering waves of the sea, and each other.

“Now,” Sky started, “I can always send a text. Or a letter, given the whole across-the-universe thing.”

She smiled, sensing everything. “Keep in touch, then. And once we’re back…”

He nodded, fully understanding. “Once we’re back…”

She nodded back, taking out a shard that shone in the moonlight. “But first, the water seems fresh tonight.”

Sandbar woke to the sound of distant splashing. He’d been too clumsy on his pony hooves to do it quietly, but he got up regardless and sneaked out of the hut to see what the fuss was going on outside.

His parents had scolded him for disturbing the peace, but it turned out that he wasn’t the only one waking others up. Steps could be heard from the other homes; the sound of windows opening were caught in his ears.

Then, he saw the two figures fly in the sky, dipping just enough into the water to splash against each other. Just as they were about to land, they sunk into the sea.

Two little flashes emanated from the ocean, and when the two creatures popped up, they were no longer hippogriffs but seaponies, their fins and scaly heads immersed in a morning that grew brighter, banishing the night and their honeymoon away.

Just as the sun broke through, they kissed.