Frozen Voyage

by iluvponies35

Rating: teen
Tags: Original Character, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Dark, Tragedy, Death
Length: 13865

Stuck in a blizzard on the open sea, a captain and her crew struggle to survive

Whistling Wren is captain of the Hemera, a modest trading vessel operating in the Celestial Sea. With trade having reopened with the Griffon kingdom, there is high demand for brash young captains like her to brave the seas in search of fortune.

However the weather of the Celestial Sea remains outside the control of Equestrians. All it takes is a few rash decisions to leave Wren and her crew struggling for survival as winter closes in around them.

Preread by a friend. Covert art by Tiki Bat

Published 2023-08-12 16:20:01 UTC
Last updated 2023-08-12 16:20:01 UTC

The Last Voyage of the Hemera

Fish.

That was the smell that dominated the air around Griffonstone harbor. All up and down the coast, the smell of fish penetrated the nostrils, seeping into everything, overpowering the subtle smells of salt and ocean spray that one would normally expect from the beach. Seagulls squawked overhead, and the sun glinted down from a cloudless sky as a cool breeze carried the fishy smell through the streets.

As a pegasus, Whistling Wren simply couldn't get used to the fish smell. The last few days she had spent on shore leave in Griffonstone, but her senses barely felt dulled to it. All the more reason to get out of here, the turquoise pony thought to herself, as she trotted through the tight streets of the port's legation quarter. Green eyes peered from behind her purple mane at the sights and sounds.

Just a few short years ago, Griffonstone and its occupants had been mostly isolated from Equestria and its ways. Now, new treaties and trade negotiations had invigorated commerce between the two nations, and Griffonstone's ports now bustled with activity. The legation quarter was at the center of all this; a few blocks worth of land set aside as a hub for traders and diplomats from all over, agreed upon by griffons and ponies alike. Though these two races made up the dominant demographic in this part of the city, one could find everything from zebras, to yaks, to dragons, all eager to trade. Perhaps even changelings were here, disguised as something else entirely.

Whistling Wren was one such entrepreneur. The singing songbird on her flank may not have represented it, but she had spent the last few months as captain of a modest trading vessel, the Hemera, running to and from Griffonstone, Fillydelphia, Baltimare, and numerous other foreign ports. Ponies and zebras alike were fascinated with some of the griffon's more ethical trinkets, and the dragons to the south were the main destination for Griffonstone's vast fish exports. The griffons, in return, imported vast quantities of gems, metals, ores, and certain types of wood that could only be found in Equestria, or the Zebrabwean savannahs. At the end of the day though, somepony (or creature) had to get those goods from port to port, and Wren was willing to do just that.

Cobblestone road clopped underhoof as Wren briskly trotted down the main street of the legation quarter. Ponies and griffons dodged to and fro, or flew overhead, and Wren occasionally spotted one of the other aforementioned races among the crowd. Wooden buildings, from shacks to restaurants, to businesses, to hotels and everything in between took up every available inch of land that wasn't part of the actual street. Even then, street vendors were everywhere, colorful tents and banners advertising everything from fried fish to ornate jewelry.

Wren stopped right outside the Seafarer's Shack, a bar with several rooms available for an outrageous price, that made up for it with the quality and diversity of drinks sold. Licking her lips, she stepped through a pair of batwing doors into the dimly-lit hovel. A rat squeaked in terror and nearly ran across her hooves as she walked inside, but she tried not to pay it too much mind; she was mostly just glad to smell something other than fish.

The captain briskly made her way to the bar at the back of the room, past tables full of ponies and the occasional griffon enjoying a meal or some pleasant company. Cleaning out a drink glass behind the bar was Gabe, a griffon with feathers of two different shades of gray, and a scar under his right eye. Gabe owned and operated the establishment, and nodded at Wren as she climbed up onto a bar stool. "A mug of cider please."

"We're all out."

Wren slammed her hoof down on the counter. "Not funny."

Gabe glared at her. "I said, we're all out. Shipment's late. Nothing I can do about it. Gonna buy something else?"

Wren matched the griffon's cold glare, but whatever choice words she had for him she managed to keep to herself for now. "Fine, rum then."

"Down to our last barrel, gonna cost you extra," Gabe replied nonchalantly, his attention focused on the bottom of the drink glass in his claws.

"You're a piece of shit you know that?"

Gabe slammed down the glass. "Buy something or get out, pony."

Wren sighed. "Tequila?"

Gabe finally smiled. "Now that we have plenty of."

As Gabe filled a glass with the clear alcohol, Wren dug into her saddlebags for her money pouch. Pulling out a single golden bit, she slapped it down and slid it across the counter face up.

Drink in one hand, Gabe snatched up the bit and dropped it on a scale he kept by his side. The bit matched up perfectly with a weight placed on the other plate. With a satisfied expression, he removed the bit and set it down somewhere under the counter. A second later he procured a pair of silver coins and slid them across along with the drink. Wren deposited the crude silver coins in her purse, and took the drink in both hooves.

Tequila wasn't her thing, and Wren grimaced to herself a little bit at the sweet flavor underneath its sharp burn. Not a good kind of sweet like cider, but the fire in her belly was welcomed. No wonder there's so much left. As she quietly nursed the drink and tried to bear small sips of it, she turned to Gabe. "Any good rumors?"

"Nothing new since you came in yesterday," he replied, already working on another drink glass.

World's most useless bartender, Wren thought, but made sure not to say. Taking a long swig from her drink, she shivered and dropped the near-empty glass on the counter. "No news? Anything?"

"Something about a cold front coming in, but you don't care about the weather, do you?"

"Only if I have to," Wren replied matter-of-factly, before hopping off the bar stool and trotting out of the bar.

Down by the edge of the shore, cobblestone streets made way to wooden docks and hundreds of ships of all sizes for as far as the eye could see. The building density thinned out, but only because it was vastly easier to build on land than on stilts over the water. Of those buildings, the largest by far was the 'Celestine Trading Company' building. Two stories tall, built of pine wood, with a large anchor hanging over the front door. This building housed all the boring paperwork that went into managing trade between two countries on this side of the Celestial Sea, and managed an active storefront.

Wren stepped through the front door to a modest sized entrance room. Chairs and sofas lined the walls along with some exotic plants, and a large board covered in papers dominated the center of the room. Everything from contracts, to job openings, to flyers advertising "Action, Adventure and wealth you've only dreamed of! Join the CTC today!" From experience, Wren knew only that last part was true.

At the back of the room behind a large desk was a burgundy unicorn mare with a faded yellow mane sitting in front of a typewriter. Her bright blue eyes looked up from a stack of papers as Wren approached and she smiled warmly. "Ah, Captain Wren! Pleasure to see you again!"

Wren tried not to shiver. Looking Glass was one of the nicest, perkiest ponies she'd met in the legation quarter. Wren tried to tone down her gruffness whenever she talked to Glass; the poor pony was way too nice to be here. "Evening Glass. How's it been?"

Glass sighed wistfully. "Same as always, can't wait to transfer home at the end of the month. What about you, need something?"

"Gonna sail back for Baltimare tomorrow morning. Need some contracts to make the trip worth it."

"Think you could take me with?" Glass teased. "Anyway let's see here, Baltimare..." she started sifting through some of the papers in front of her until she picked out a few. "Alright! Shipment of silver coins and bars, a dozen crates of griffon crafts, salt, griffon wine...all for Baltimare!" She frowned suddenly. "Although, are you sure you want to sail out tomorrow? Weather ponies say there's a nasty winter storm brewing just north of the Baltimare trade route."

Wren shrugged. "Wouldn't be the first time I've sailed in a storm. Also I've been in Griffonstone over a week, I'm more than ready to head home." She wrinkled her nose. And the smell of fish is driving me up the wall! Even inside she could faintly smell it.

"Well, okay. Just be safe alright? Storm's projected to hit Manehattan by the end of the week."

Wren looked at the calendar on the wall, it was already Wednesday. "I will Glass, don't worry."

Glass smiled again. "Alright, give me a minute to fill these out and you'll be on your way."

While waiting for the contracts to be filled out, Wren stepped over to the window and looked outside. Far in the distance, puffy white clouds began to form above the open ocean. She stared at it with an unreadable expression for a while until Glass called for her to come provide her signature.

Once all the papers were filled out, Wren had little more to do than wait while a team of CTC workers began loading Hemera with its new cargo. Wren watched from the docks as a gang of ponies and some griffons slowly carried out boxes and barrels full of goodies from a nearby warehouse onto her ship.

A year ago Wren had dropped a sizable number of bits on the old ship, which she had quickly paid off once she started sailing. The brigantine showed her age; the sails, being the most important part, were the nicest part of the ship, having been recently replaced. The old wooden hull was marked with spots of replaced wood, and some of the windows had cracks in them. A bronze figure of a seapony attached to the ship's bowsprit had long been corroded green by the sea, and was dented in a few places. The chains and anchor were rusted, and barnacles were firmly attached to any part of the ship that had been below water at some point.

Despite its wear and age, the Hemera had served Wren well so far, and the only way for the two to part would be if one of them sunk to the bottom of the ocean.

As the line of ponies continued back and forth, Wren popped a tiny salt lick into her mouth and sucked on it while she waited for them to be done. In the meantime she toyed with a metal object in her coat pocket until the sound of hooves on the dock made her turn to see a blue earth pony stallion with messy yellow hair approaching.

"Sand Dune, haven't seen you since this morning," Wren commented.

The first mate rolled his eyes. "Been keeping the ship in order, captain."

"Well the ship's still here, so good job in that regard," she teased, causing both of them to smile. Wren stared ahead thoughtfully for a moment before turning back to him. "Do you think you can go get the crew ready? I plan to sail back for Baltimare tomorrow."

Sand Dune looked mildly alarmed. "Tomorrow, captain? You know there's a storm coming—"

"Yes yes, I know," she cut him off, "but it's only two days back to Baltimare if we hurry. Who knows how long we'll be sitting in port if we try to wait out the storm. I've had enough of Griffonstone and this damn fish smell to last the rest of the year."

"Valid point, so have I," he conceded. "Just not a fan of cutting it this close."

"Then we better be ready, eh?" she grinned at him. "How are the food stores looking by the way? Any last minute shopping we need to do?"

Sand Dune took a moment to retrieve a clipboard from his saddlebags. "Let's see...between the twenty of us, there's enough hardtack to last a week, a week's worth of lemons, a few days each of fermented cheese and vegetables...no shortage of beer or water."

"Sounds like plenty then. How about coal?"

"Umm...about a day's worth if we run the furnaces non stop."

Wren frowned. "Hmm, little close for my liking, but coal's gonna be a lot cheaper in Baltimare than here. We can burn wood if we absolutely need to." She waved her hoof to dismiss him. "Thank you Sand Dune, make sure the crew's ready by first light tomorrow."

"Aye aye captain."

An orange glow pierced the horizon as Celestia's sun began to rise upon Griffonstone harbor. Puffy white clouds hung low in the sky, which the sun disappeared behind as Celestia finished her duty.

A cool breeze gently swept through the harbor. Wren welcome it, as it carried away most of the fish smell; if only it had come earlier. The door to her cabin swung open as she trotted out onto the ship's deck. A black cloth cape was wrapped tightly around her body, providing some protection from the chill in the air.

On the deck of the ship, there was plenty of activity. Sand Dune stood around the center, barking orders at a dozen other ponies scrambling to get the ship ready. The sails unfurled and billowed in the wind, and the ropes holding them tightly to the dock were untied and reeled in.

Wren took the ship's wheel in her hooves, grinning to herself slightly; it had been over a week since she had last laid hooves on it, and it felt just right. She barked a few orders, which Dune relayed to the rest of the crew as they began pulling away from the dock. With dozens of nearby ships, it was a slow process, but they quickly thinned out as the Hemera entered open waters.

The griffin lands didn't have any coastal islands, but an artificial one had been set up years ago for the purposes of building a lighthouse. The red and white tower lazily drifted by as Wren brought them out to sea. She waved as they passed; she couldn't see any pony or creature manning it from this far out, but it never hurt to do so anyway. She couldn't help but notice they were the only ship heading out to sea; every other vessel that could be seen out of port was heading towards it. Wren thought nothing of it.

A few minutes later, once there course was steady everything was accounted for, Wren swapped the helm for a sand colored stallion named Whipstaff, allowing her to freely walk the deck. Before then, she finally looked back at Griffonstone harbor, now a distant lump starting to dip below the horizon. In the ships wake were countless ocean swells in a 'V' formation that stretched on as far as her eye could see.

Wren left the ship's quarterdeck for the midship, finding Sand Dune pondering over his clipboard. The two briefly exchanged words, then Wren spread her wings and took to the sky. Finally! After a week stuck in harbor, she had finally gotten a proper chance to stretch her wings. The jovial pegasus made a few rounds around the ship's masts, before landing atop the crow's nest at the top of the taller one.

A large spyglass had been left up there, which Wren gleefully took and brought up to her eye. Besides the faint image of Griffonstone to their rear, there was nothing but wide open ocean all around. Putting it down, she sighed to herself and rested her chin on her hoof as she gazed out into the wide open nothingness for the next hour.

So entranced was she, that the darkening skies went unnoticed.

The rain began in the evening.

Overcast skies turned darker and darker, and brought with them a light pattering of raindrops at first. Wren's coat kept her dry, but not warm enough to account for the slight drop in temperature. As the rain picked up and the deck became slick, she and the rest of the crew went below deck, where the warm candles of the ship's living quarters allowed them to forget about the miserable conditions outside.

While the rest of the crew enjoyed some basic provisions in the dining area, Wren sat at the grand oak table in her personal quarters. Also seated with her were Sand Dune, plus the ship's navigator Treasure Map—a female unicorn with brown hair and a coat the same color as old parchment—and the boatswain Taffrail—a stocky green earth pony stallion with a blonde mane and a beard.

Spread out before them was some of the finest food that could be cooked with the ship's stocks: Hardtrack had been broken up, mixed with water, and recooked into a pancake of sorts upon which were slices of sugar coated lemon. Fermented cabbage and tomatoes had been tossed up in a meager salad, topped lightly with salt, and generously with pepper. A board of fermented cheese sat in the middle which was picked from at leisure. For dessert, another batch of hardtack had been mixed with sugar, water, and a few drops of the ship's whiskey until it resembled a pudding in consistency.

Beyond the food, a large map was rolled out in the middle of the table, detailing the Celestial Sea, from Equestria's eastern coast to the griffin lands, and from Trottingham on the northern griffish isles, all the way down to the northernmost tip of the Hayseed Swamps in the south. Navigation instruments were strewn about at random; a compass, sextant, calipers, and a few different types of rulers. All went unused for the time being, as the ship's officers were more concerned with sharing stories over dinner.

"...and Taffrail, you remember that time, oh, four months back? When we barely got into Zebrabwe before the ship's mast snapped off!"

The boatswain grimaced, taking his head in his hooves. "Aye, I do. Three weeks repairs and I still can't look at the masts without thinking it'll happen again."

"Thank Celestia zebras can cook at least," Dune chuckled. "If that had happened in Griffonstone..."

"...then I'd probably have cut my tongue out," Wren shivered. "Damn feather brains couldn't cook to save their lives. Are griffin children even born with taste buds?"

"One wonders," Map chimed in.

Wren popped a cheese wedge into her mouth, then grabbed a spoon and tried her first bite of her hardtack pudding. She chewed thoughtfully for a second before lighting up. "Ahh, what would we do without Cast Iron? That stallion can make even hardtack palatable."

A few murmurs of agreement went up, as the ship's officers returned to finishing their dinner. Wren swiftly gobbled up the rest of her pudding, before leaning back in satisfaction, a flask of rum in one hoof. "Say, is there a window open? Feeling a bit nippy in here."

Sand Dune got up from his chair and trotted over to a furnace in the corner. "Fire's almost burned out, I'll go grab more coal," he stated.

Map knocked her hoof against the table. "Didn't you say yourself we've only a day's worth of coal left? Grab some jackets or blankets, spare the coal for now."

Wren clicked her teeth. "Now now, one more scoop won't hurt anything. It just needs to last until it's time to turn in for the night."

Map scowled, but made no attempt to change her captain's mind. Sand Dune left for another room, and Wren sipped the last of her rum before getting up from her chair. "Hmm, is it just the alcohol or is—"

Kkssshh!

The whole ship gently lurched to the side, just enough for a porcelain bowl to slide off the edge of the captain's table and shatter on the wooden floor. Wren spun around, cursing as she saw the pieces. "Damn it, that was expensive!" she growled, only to gasp as the ship rocked again and she barely kept her footing.

Taffrail's ears flicked, and he looked up with concern. "Um, captain?"

"Is that...hail?" Map asked warily.

Wren stumbled over to the nearest porthole, and looked out just in time as tiny balls of ice peppered it. "Hmm, that's not good..."

A sudden frantic knocking emanated from the door. A second later a white earth pony burst in, his black mane soaked and hanging down his face. "Captain! We're in awfully rough seas!"

Wren stomped her hoof. Just as the day's coming to a close... She pointed at the cadet that burst in. "Batten down the hatches, and raise the sails! Keep us pointed into the waves!"

The stallion saluted and disappeared from the doorway. Wren followed and beckoned for her officers to follow. Meeting Sand Dune in the hallway, she hurried past him shouting, "forget the coal, get up top!"

Up top, the hail had passed, but the storm was only getting started. Ice cold rain poured down from the heavens, traveling almost horizontally in the high winds, and leaving the deck slick with water. Wren nearly tripped as she galloped out onto the deck, shivering as she found herself battered with rain, her coat unsuitable for the weather, and no time to go back for something more substantial.

Wren quickly made her way back to the quarterdeck. Whipstaff was at the helm again, though he looked miserable and his teeth chattered. Wren relieved the frigid stallion, and took control of the ship's wheel, struggling to keep it in place as she felt the ship's rudder fighting her. Waves battered the ship, bobbing it up and down, even as she turned it to sail into them.

As the wind whipped at her eyes, Wren struggled to see. It was mostly instinct that kept her and her ship pointed on the right path. Even then, she could feel herself slowly slipping as she maintained the position as long as she could, the windchill sapping her strength away.

For the safety of everypony involved, Wren kept a tight grip on the wheel, but she eventually started feeling herself go numb. An extra minute of dressing could have prevented this, but it was too late to go back now. It wasn't until Sand Dune ran up shouting her name, that she finally considered letting go.

"Captain! Get below deck! Everything's sealed up, we're in Celestia's hooves now!" he screamed over the raging wind.

Shivering, Wren abandoned the wheel and trotted after him. The ship kept bobbing, drifting out of control, but all they could hope for now was staying upright. As the captain and her quartermaster approached the nearest door, an earsplitting crack cut through the storm, and they both whipped around in horror.

The ship's secondary mast—having not been maintained since Wren had purchased the ship, and having no repair work done on it like the main mast—snapped at its base, splinters flying in all directions as it gently toppled over and fell into the ocean below, smashing a portion of the deck in the process. Wren and Dune watched with wide eyes, before barreling through the door and slamming it shut behind them.

When Wren stepped onto the deck of the Hemera the following morning, she was surprised to find it covered in a thin layer of snow. Just as surprising were the flakes gently falling from the sky. The air was even colder than last night, although without the windchill it wasn't as drastic. Dressed in a much comfier set of winter clothes that she kept for the winter months, she trotted aimlessly across the deck, inspecting the damage to her prized vessel.

"Captain..."

"I don't want to hear it, Sand Dune," she snapped, whirling around to face her second in command.

Dune clenched his jaw, considering his next words carefully. "I...I'm not going to lecture you captain. I just wanted to ask if you know what we're supposed to do now."

"I don't know," Wren quietly admitted, staring at her hooves for a good long while. "...Half the sails are gone, that'll double the travel time, and the worst of the storm hasn't even hit yet."

"Should we...sail back for Griffonstone?"

"I don't even know where we are. We could be dozens of miles off after last night's storm." Wren looked around. Between the overcast sky and the snow flurries, visibility was at least half of what it was at this same time yesterday.

"Treasure Map's trying to figure that out." He rubbed his leg. "Um, what should we tell the crew?"

Wren was silent for several seconds before responding. "Tell them to inspect the damage. And...to take stock of our supplies. I need time to think." Sand Dune watched her briskly trot away to the bow of the ship, leaving a faint trail of hoofprints in the snow.

When she was out of sight, Wren took to the sky and lazily made her way back to the crow's nest atop the remaining mast. She grabbed the spyglass and tried to use it, only to find the gentle layer of ice that had formed on it rendered it unusable. With a sigh she tried to survey the horizon with her naked eye, but the horizon remained shrouded.

We'll be fine...she tried to tell herself, while she played with the coin in her pocket. We'll be fine...

Soon the crew set about the deck, resuming their duties as if nothing had even happen. Wren swooped down, headed to the cabin to talk with her officers, and passed by some of the sailors on the way. Despite their stoic exterior, she could see it in their eyes the same inkling of uncertainty.

"Listen up!" Wren stomped her hoof, getting the attention of those around her. "I know it's looking pretty bad! We're adrift in the middle of nowhere and half the sails are gone! But I swear on Celestia, so long as we have one good sail, I WILL get every single one of us out of this mess!"

A modest cheer went up as Wren finished her little pep talk. Not the rousing cheer she had hoped for, but so long as the crew had a shred of hope, they could make this work. She resumed trotting towards her quarters with a little more vigor. Opening the door, she found her three officers huddled around the map.

As the three looked up, Wren opened her mouth. "What's the situation?"

Treasure Map smacked the table. "Near as I can tell, the storm mostly just blew us north. No telling how much. No telling how far east or west either. It's a tossup as to whether Equestria or the griffons are closer."

Taffrail nodded. "And with the one mast gone, our speed's down a few knots. Reckon it'll take two or three days to go anywhere if we're smack dab in the middle of the sea."

Wren hung her head in a sigh then turned to Sand Dune. "How are stocks looking?"

Dune frowned. "Assuming nothing else happens, food stores shouldn't be a problem. It's coal I'm worried about though. We have half a day's worth left, and the worst of the cold hasn't even hit."

Wren pondered for a moment. "Have the crew chop any hunk of wood we don't need. Empty barrels, boxes, any extra chairs or tables. Pile it all with the coal, and tell me what you think we'll get out of it before we have to cut up more."

"Where are we planning to go, captain?" Map wondered.

Wren took a deep breath. "Continue east. Manehattan, Baltimare, Fillydelphia, wherever we end up. More chance of running into civilization than if we try to head back to Griffonstone."

Uncertain nods followed, but if anypony had any better ideas, they didn't voice them. As her officers scattered, Wren trotted over to the table and stared at the map.

I'll get us out of this...

With a course plotted, and a modest plan in action, all that could be done was to wait. Besides the hoarding of wood and coal, life continued on the ship as normal for the rest of the day. The last of the coal heated the ship that night, allowing for an uninteresting dinner, after which most of the crew turned in to sleep. Wren occupied herself with a book for a while, before she too bundled up in her blanket and drifted off to sleep as the ship gently coasted through the frigid waters.

Wren awoke shivering.

Shooting up in her hammock, the captain looked around. Through the porthole it was still dark outside, and the ship was quiet. Only the faint whistle of the wind outside reached her ears. Though wearing her jacket and wrapped in a blanket, the bitter cold had been given enough time to seep through. Her groggy mind struggled to understand why, until she remembered they had foregone stoking the ship's fire overnight to conserve what little fuel they had. They were down to scrap wood now, and it wouldn't last very long.

Wren hopped out of bed and jogged around her cabin as the sun was raised. Combined with a few sips of whiskey to start the day, she felt warm enough to walk about the deck. Still freezing, but not to a painful degree. Throwing open her door, she stepped out on the deck of her ship as the rest of the crew stirred and began to head up top.

Snow crunched underhoof as Wren moved about the deck, while subordinates began checking the ship's rigging. Visibility today was no better than the day before, save for the skies to the north which were even darker than the rest. Wren stared at it emptily until a shrill voice cut through the still air.

"CAPTAIN! CAPTAAAAIIIN!"

Wren whirled around to the source of the yell. A crewmate waved at her from up on the quarterdeck. Wren spread her wings and flew up to meet him, looking around frantically until she saw the figure by the ship's wheel.

Oh...no...

Whipstaff was crumpled right in front of it, dead, and clearly having been so for a while. The stallion's sandy coat had turned pale, and icicles clung to his face and his hair. His hooves were, well, after Wren saw how black they were, she finally looked away. Thoughts whirled around her head until they reached a boiling point that prompted her to raise her front hooves up and slam the deck with a yell.

"GODDESSES! Did NOPONY try to relieve him?!" she screamed, pointing an accusatory hoof at the orange unicorn in front of her.

"W-we didn't think to!" he stammered. "I was on night watch and I figured he'd yell for me when it was time! He always does!"

Wren took a long, shaky breath, and stared at her hooves for a while until Sand Dune ran up."Captain, what's wrong?!"

With a gesture towards their fallen crewmate, Wren flared her wings and took off for the front of the ship. She came to a stop in front of the ship's bowsprit, which she promptly stepped up on. Perched upon the spar, Wren stared ahead into the sea. Empty whiteness stared back

Whipstaff was dead. She hadn't known him too well, only that he was a skilled sailor, and one of the first to join the Hemera's crew besides her officers. Not even a day after promising they would all make it out alive, the promise had been broken. Not purposefully, but she could already think of a dozen different ways this could've been prevented. Her foreleg gently pawed the log sticking out of the front of the ship, while she thought of something to say or do.

After a few minutes of solitary thinking, Wren felt composed enough to address the crew and headed towards the middle of the ship where everypony had gathered. Whipstaff's body had been bundled up in a sheet, and the crew sat around it while some said a few words. A few moved out of the way as Wren approached, and everypony fell quiet as they looked expectingly at their captain.

Wren took a deep breath. "Whipstaff was...one of the better helmsponies I've seen. I wish I knew enough about him to say more, I'm sure some of you do, but either way, it's a shame he had to go this way." Taking a moment to catch her breath and choose her next words. Finally she looked up at her crew. "Once you've all said your goodbyes, I want that furnace burning. Chop up all the wood you can, even the furniture we've been using." She pointed to the ship's wheel. "I want two ponies manning the helm at all times now, and shifts will be changed every six hours instead of every eight."

A few salutes went up. Most others bowed their heads. Soon the crew broke up to attend to their duties, while a pair of ponies took Whipstaff's body to toss over the edge of the ship. Wren beckoned for Dune to follow her, and the two headed below deck.

Not much had changed in the belly of the ship, besides the now freezing air. Candles still burned brightly, but provided next to no heat. Wren saw her breath condensing in the air, and used a hoof to snug her jacket up even tighter. Eventually they arrived in the very bottom of the ship, in a modest sized room. In the center of the room was the ship's furnace, pipes sticking out every which way to provide heat to the cabins. A trough once full of coal sat nearby, now filled with a pathetic amount of scrap wood.

Opening the furnace hatch, Wren grabbed a shovel in her hooves and began shoveling in what wood she could. They ran out before it could be filled even halfway. Sand Dune procured a pack of matches, lit the furnace, and then the two sat back and watched as an orange glow began to emanate from within.

"...How much more wood do you think we can squeeze out of this ship?" Wren finally asked.

Dune rubbed his forehead. "There's still some furniture that hasn't been chopped up. Maybe a door or two that aren't busy keeping out the elements. Beyond that, we'd have to start tearing planks from the ship itself. I guess if it gets real bad we could start burning spare sheets and rope, but those would burn out even faster."

She bit her lip. "It's two days most until we hit Equestrian shores. Can we make it last that long?"

"Probably?" Dune shrugged. "Depends how much non essential wood we can tear from the ship, and if you want to keep going nights without any warmth at all."

Wren held her hooves out, warming them. "I'm not losing anypony else. Let's do it."

By the middle of the day, the ship was feeling a lot emptier. All of the wooden furniture that wasn't nailed down or inside the captain's quarters had been chopped to bits, the crew having spent the last few hours going at it with wood axes. The trough next to the furnace sat bursting with scrap wood, while the furnace itself burned brightly.

With a smile, Wren walked through the crew quarters, watching as a pair of ponies hacked apart a wooden dresser, while a third peeled boards from one of the ship's walls and hung up a spare sheet to cover up the huge hole that remained. The only furniture that remained were hammocks strung between poles for the crew to sleep in. She felt a pang of regret at how much more lifeless the ship felt, but the lives of her crew had to be put first, especially since she had gotten them into this mess.

The next room over was the dining room. While it was no bigger than the tight crew quarters, it felt wide open now that all the tables and chairs were gone. In an effort to preserve some of the room's original purpose, spare sheets and pillows had been spread out regularly over the floor, gathered around metal lanterns and eating utensils.

Through a doorway was the ship's kitchen. Given that there wasn't much furniture to begin with, the room thankfully remained remarkably unchanged. Around the counters containing utensils and cooking ingredients was a metal stove with its own modest supply of firewood in a bin next to it. Tending to it was a fat charcoal pony with a blonde mane and a metal pot on his flank who looked up as Wren walked in.

"Ah, Captain Wren! How goes?"

"Hello Cast Iron," she smiled. "I'm fine, how about you? How's dinner coming?"

Cast Iron wiped his brow. "Ah, well, you've got me feeling a little pressed with the limited amount of wood, but don't worry, I completely understand why. Dinner will hopefully be satisfactory, I'm running a little low on spices here."

Wren nodded. "Aye, I'm aware. As long as our food stocks remain plentiful. Better to eat hardtack than starve."

"I know, but I'll still do everything I can to avoid getting to that point," before keeling down to peek inside the stove. "Thanks for stopping by!"

With a nod, Wren headed on. Finally there was the storage room, and the only place on the ship where one could still find wooden boxes and barrels. Everything was clearly labelled and mostly neatly arranged, with some already opened boxes lying closest to the door. She happened to peer inside an open one marked 'rations' only to find it empty. She was about to ignore it and leave when her stomach rumbled, and she looked back at some of the unopened boxes. They're gonna get opened one way or another...

Grabbing a crowbar, Wren took down the nearest unopened ration box and began prying off the lid. After some momentary struggling it popped open, revealing one of the most foul smells she'd ever experienced. What in Equestria?! she thought, gagging.

With a hoof over her nose, Wren's eyes watered as she reached inside for a metal can of pickled vegetables and brought it up to her eye to inspect. At first glance it seemed fine, but the liquid stains running down the outside told her something was very wrong. Eventually she noticed the thin line where the can had supposedly been sealed at the top where the liquid had originated from. As she turned it on its side, more spilled out onto the floor, smelling just as bad as the rest.

Horrifying thoughts ran through her head as she tried to process what this meant. Slowly and quietly she placed the crate's lid back on top of it so it looked as though nothing had happened. Holding the single can close to her breast, she swiftly left the room.

Sand Dune's expression was unreadable as he sized up the rotten can Wren had deposited in front of him. The two had found each other amongst the midship, and retreated to Wren's quarters to properly discuss the situation at hoof.

Dune picked up the can inspecting every angle, opening it further, sniffing it, subsequently recoiling in disgust. Finally he placed it down on the table and stared at it for a long while before he finally found something to say. "You said there was an entire crate like this?"

"Possibly," Wren replied emptily. "Soon as I opened it the smell hit me. Lot of them looked stained like that, didn't stick around long enough to get a count."

Dune rolled the can between his hooves, deep in thought again. "Says here it's from 'Baltimare Canning Works', we bought these from them directly last time we were in town, right?"

Wren nodded. "They were pretty cheap, now that I think about it," she gulped, "and a pretty new company too..."

"And I remember we bought half the month's provisions from them," Dune sighed, taking his head in his hooves. "This is...really bad. What are we going to do?"

"Let's not despair yet," Wren tried to assure him. "We should still have enough hardtack...awful as it is. Keep this from the crew for now, and don't tell anypony except Cast Iron since he's going to figure out anyway. You and him go through the whole stock and see if anything can be recovered."

"Alright. Though if it comes down to just hardtack that's maybe two days worth of food."

"Then we better be in Baltimare by then," Wren growled. "Speaking of which, how's navigation going?"

"Treasure Map says the seas have been pretty calm after that storm we went through Thursday night. Speed's been pretty painful, even considering we only have one sail. I think the worst of the winter storm is going to hit tonight or tomorow though, so hopefully there'll be some westerly winds in that."

Wren chewed her lip. "And what of our heating situation?"

Dune looked down at the table. "All the wood we've collected only gives around a full day if we burn it non stop."

Wren slammed the table. "A single day?!"

"Well, we're still collecting a few more scraps, but yes," Dune grimaced. "Not sure if there's much more we can squeeze out of it."

Wren brought her hooves to her face and pulled down, stretching her face while she groaned. "Urrrrgghhhh they were right, why didn't I just stay in Griffonstone?"

Sand Dune said nothing.

"Anyway...yeah. Go check our stocks and get back to me as soon as you can."

"Aye aye captain," he replied, and headed for the door.

Wren watched him go, sighing to herself once the door closed. A lot of emotions and thoughts were swirling around her head, but she'd had enough for the time being. She trotted over to one of the windows and glanced out at the foggy ocean, noting the presence of frost clinging to the edges of the glass.

Once she had bored herself with the view, Wren went over to her bookshelf and looked around until she found something that looked interesting.The Influence of Sea Power Upon Equestria. Cracking open the dusty cover, she flipped through the author and publisher information until she arrived at the first chapter and started reading the first few lines.

Wren wasn't sure how much time had passed, but she was a few chapters into an interesting history book when a knock came from the door. Putting it down, she looked around groggily, noting the faint orange haze from the horizon through the window. Getting up slowly, her joints popped and a few more knocks came as she slowly trotted over.

Sand Dune was on the other side looking dour. "Captain, it's bad."

Wren felt her blood run cold. "H-how bad?"

"Less than two dozen usable cans bad, out of two hundred," he sighed, hanging his head.

Wren snorted and pawed the floorboards. "Dammit, I was afraid of this..."

"It's unfortunate, but we still have the hardtack. Dinner will be soon by the way, hope you're looking forward to having some."

The two ponies trotted down into the ship's belly and returned several minutes later with their dinner. Treasure Map and Taffrail were already eating and had assessments to make afterwards, leaving the captain and her lieutenant alone in her quarters. Gathered on opposite sides of Wren's massive table, they set their food down and started digging in.

Despite the conditions, dinner for the two highest ranking ponies on the ship remained were the highest quality that could be made with the ship's stocks. The last of the good pickled vegetables had been laid out on one side of the plate; knowing the poor quality of their origin, Wren would've avoided them if she wasn't subtly pressed to make the most of what they had. On the other side, a bowl full of a simple stew, using more vegetables and thickened with a pulverized sheet of hardtack. Additional squares of hardtack were spread out next to it, generously salted and ready for dipping in the stew to soften them up.

Before Wren started eating, she grabbed a plain square of hardtack and brought it to her teeth. It had been a long time since she had eaten them plain, and wanted to mentally prepare herself for the following days if they still failed to make it to shore. It had the consistency and taste of a brick, and when she broke off a manageable chunk, she chewed for so long that her jaw was sore after swallowing it. The salt was the only thing that made it palatable; at least they wouldn't run out of that anytime soon.

The ponies ate in silence, refusing to say a thing or even make eye contact until their plates were cleaned. By then Wren had noticed an unusual chill in the air and finally decided to voice her displeasure. "Is it a bit nippy in here again?"

Dune looked up from his plate. "Must've stopped stoking the fire already. It's about time to turn in anyway." Wiping his mouth with a rag, he threw on an extra layer of warm clothes he had draped across the back of his chair. "I'm heading down now if you don't have anything important. Goodnight Wren," he said, and left.

All alone again, Wren followed his example and bundled herself up as warm as she could get. After going to grab the book she had been reading earlier, she trotted over to her hammock and snuggled up under the covers. As the temperature slowly dropped in her cabin, Wren did her best to block out the rest of the world and focus on her book. Eventually the weary pegasus put down the book and gently cried herself to sleep.

~~~~~

"Hey dad, what's that?" a younger Wren inquired as she suddenly appeared over the shoulder of her father.

The older pegasus smiled at his daughter's sudden intrusion. "Oh, this?" he gestured to his desk, upon which multiple gold and silver coins lay strewn about, while a book lay open right in front of him. "Going through my coin collection. Picked up a few from Zebrabwe and Griffonstone today."

Wren gaped at him. "Zebras and griffons use coins?! Where'd you get them?"

Her father chuckled. "Well i've never been to the zebra or griffon lands personally, and there are few that have. I picked them up from a sailor today who's claimed to have seen both. Can't say for sure, but they seem to be authentic."

"Huh..." Wren muttered, gazing down at the gold and silver pieces before her. Slowly she reached out a hoof towards one before pausing. "Um, can I see them?"

"Sure, just be careful," he advised. Wren nodded and picked up a crude silver coin with a depiction of a zebra on it. While his daughter was enraptured, the older pegasus reached into a nearby bowl and produced a faded gold bit which he slid over. "In fact, if you want you can keep this one. I was saving it for your birthday, but I'd say now seems appropriate."

Wren diverted her attention to the gift. It was clearly an Equestrian bit, but much older, with inscriptions similar but not identical to modern Equestrian. A crude bust of Celestia adorned the front, her expression equal parts firm and somber. "How old is this?"

"A few centuries give or take. Somewhere around the middle of Nightmare Moon's banishment, though the date's too worn to tell exactly. I hope you like it," he smiled.

Wren turned it over in her hooves a few times, before setting it down and embracing her father. "Thank you dad!"

~~~~~

Sunday morning was even colder than the day before. Despite the layers of cloth she was buried under, Wren once again awoke shivering, this time even harder. At first it was also marked by panic, as she found herself unable to open her eyes, but quickly remembered the previous night. Holding hooves to her eyes, she managed to get enough warmth from them to melt the frozen tears holding her eyes shut.

On shivering legs, Wren slowly dropped out of her hammock onto the stone cold floorboards. She looked around nervously, noting the light streaming through the windows, now totally covered in frost, and the white mist that rose into the air with every breath she took. Putting one hoof in front of the other, she gradually made her way to the door and threw it open.

Snow crunched under Wren's hooves as she stepped onto the Hemera's deck, finding it covered in at least an inch of the white powder. More was falling diagonally from the sky, while a chilling breeze assaulted what little parts of her were exposed to the elements. Crewmembers were once again hard at work, dodging around the deck while dressed so heavily she could barely tell who was who.

Wren wandered aimlessly around the deck until finally she managed to spot who she was looking for. Treasure Map gazed over a railing on the ship's port side, an eyeglass in one hoof and a compass in the other. The beige unicorn finally turned around when Wren called her name.

"Treasure Map! What's there to report?"

Map glanced at her compass. "Well I'm still trying to figure it out, but I think we've been blown even further north. The snow started last night and it's been steadily blowing since."

Wren's chest tightened. "Even...further...north? Have we at least been heading west?"

Map did not respond, her gaze remaining glued to the compass.

"Well? Answer me!" Wren demanded.

Finally Map looked Wren in the eye, her expression tired. "Captain...If anything I think we've gone east a bit."

"AaaaAAAAHHHHHH!" Wren yelled, stomping her hooves against the deck and kicking up a flurry of snow. The pegasus fumed, flaring her wings and running below deck before anypony could notice their captain losing it.

Silently fuming, Wren paced around the dining room which she had found herself in. In between glares at the floor she looked up at the walls which were either wooden skeletons, or covered up with cloth. In her anger, she barely noticed Treasure Map galloping up behind her.

"Captain...are you okay?"

Wren whirled around. "No, I'm not okay," she growled through her teeth. "Everything just keeps getting worse! If the cold doesn't kill us, we'll starve to death!"

Map raised an eyebrow, but hesitantly put a hoof on Wren's shoulder. "We knew the risks when we signed up captain. We're still most of the way there aren't we? We can last another day or two."

Wren shivered, from more than just the cold, then slumped her shoulders. "Yeah...yeah. Thank you Map," she said in a curt manner, then trotted over to the kitchen for some early breakfast.

Even as the captain she could tell the food situation was deteriorating faster than she thought. Most of the meals were seasoned hardtack, combined with just enough pickled vegetables and cheeses to make it look like there was still plenty left. Her meal was approximately one half of each. Wren boredly grabbed her plate and numbly walked back upstairs with it, heading back to her quarters. At least she could notice the air warming. Furnace is back on again...for now.

Lazily floating on her wings towards her quarters, Wren stopped as she heard a faint banging coming from inside. After glancing to the side she put down her food and put her ear to the door, hearing the banging even louder now. She gave it a second then slowly opened the door to peek inside.

Wren audibly gasped; in the middle of the room, Sand Dune watched as two crewmates hacked apart her prized round table and all the chairs surrounding it. Near the door, a basket full of books from her shelves. The shelves themselves were tipped over,with anything that wasn't a book haphazardly tossed in a pile. All three stopped and looked over at the sudden intrusion.

For a moment, nothing was said.

"What the FUCK do you think you're doing?!" Wren screamed, stomping into the room.

Sand Dune looked shocked, but quickly collected himself. "I'm buying us time, dammit! What's it look like?" he growled in return.

Wren refused to contain her fury. "Do you have ANY idea how many bits that table was? Those chairs? MY BOOKS?!" she yelled, spitting saliva at him in the process. She briefly glanced at the basket full of books, noticing the book she had been reading at the top. "Did it at least cross your mind to ASK first?! GODDESSES!"

"And would you have let us?" Dune stomped his hoof. "We're all suffering here, do you know how it looks when you're still living like this? I know it sucks, but we need to keep that fire burning or we'll all freeze to death!"

Wren said nothing, glaring at him with intense anger. Suddenly she reached for the cutlass holstered around her waist and whipped it out, rushing forward to press the blade against her lieutenant's neck. The stallion gulped, fear apparent in his eyes.

"You've already ruined my furniture," Wren said in a low voice. "So take it. But the books stay. And if you ever touch my shit again without permission, I will slit your throat in front of the whole crew. Understand?" A weak nod was all she got in return, satisfying her enough to resheath her sword.

Standing to the side, Wren watched coldly as the three intruders finished mutilating her furniture and tossed it into burlap sacks. They left quickly, leaving Wren alone in a much emptier room.

For the next few hours, Wren stayed secluded in her quarters. After the apparent insubordination from her lieutenant and her resulting outburst, a strange mix of regret and paranoia had taken hold. Besides finishing her breakfast, and returning her books to the shelves, she hadn't done anything else but pace around her cabin.
Piece of shit, thinking he can step out of line like that...Why'd I make him lieutenant again?

Every so often she'd stop and look through the portholes. The snow outside hadn't stopped, and at some points it had even gotten worse. The frost that had clung to the glass slowly melted, and her breath no longer condensed in the air.
Should've just stayed in Griffonstone...

In the middle of the room, Wren had left her plate. All that remained on it now were crumbs and a few scraps of uneaten hardtack. Next to it lay her history book, opened up to a random page.
Just need to get to Baltimare...Oh Goddesses, I've doomed us all, haven't I?

The wind whistled outside, never ceasing, and the snow gently pattered against the outside of the windows. Despite the ship's furnace heating the whole vessel and her quarters by extension, every so often a chill breeze would slip through a crack and cause her to shiver. At least she thought that was the reason.
Hardtack, hardtack, come again no more...

A sudden knock at the door nearly caused Wren to jump out of her skin. She ceased her incessant pacing and glanced at the door, wondering who it was, what they wanted, or if she had even imagined it. A moment later the knocking returned with slightly more force. Gulping, Wren slowly plodded over and pushed the door open.

Seeing nothing, Wren realized she had imagined the intrusion. "I really am going crazy..." she whispered to herself. Instead of returning to her room, an uneasy feeling compelled her to take a few steps forward. A second later she heard the sound of steel unsheathing from above her.

Wren jumped as a dozen ponies suddenly surrounded her, dropping from the rigging and mast over her head. Treasure Map, Cast Iron, and several other familiar faces were among them, all brandishing some sort of weapon. Sand Dune dropped right in front of her, a knife held firmly in his mouth.

"So it's a mutiny then, huh," she sighed.

Dune nodded. "I'm sorry Wren, but the crew no longer trusts your ability to lead, nor do I."

"No longer trusts my ability?" Wren snarled, narrowing her eyes. "How was I supposed to know the mast would break? How was I supposed to know the food was rotten? How was I supposed to—"

"HOW DID YOU NOT REALIZE SAILING INTO A SNOWSTORM WAS SUCH AN IDIOTIC THING TO DO?!" Dune bellowed, cutting her off and causing her to cower. "We wouldn't be in this mess if you had just swallowed your pride and stayed in port for a few more days!"

"You wanted to leave too! Griffonstone is a shithole, why would we stay there?!"

"I'd rather suffer with griffons for another week than freeze to death with the likes of you!"

"Then why did NONE of you try to stop me?!" Wren countered.

"Because you're a stubborn, angry little foal! I wanted to, hay I realize now I should have, but I've sailed with you long enough I figured I could trust you," Dune narrowed his eyes. "And now I'm freezing my flank off in the middle of the Celestial Sea because YOU never realized you were NEVER fit to be captain!"

"Opportunistic little bastard," Wren scoffed.

Dune growled. "Remember back in Zebrabwe when we lost the mast? Taffrail knew that mast was sketchy from the beginning, but you insisted it was fine and that we'd patch it up whenever we found the time to. And then it finally did break and he pleaded with you for hours for a proper repair job, but all you did was drop as few bits as you needed to on some basic materials and trusted him to fix it by hoof! It's a miracle it lasted as long as it did! It's a miracle it didn't break in that storm as well!"

Wren stared at the floor angrily, refusing to answer. "So you're going to what, cut my throat? Clip my wings and throw me overboard? What's a mutiny going to fix at this point?!"

"Nothing," Dune replied plainly. "In fact you've handled it about as well as I could. But it's YOUR fault we're here to begin with, and if you had ANY common sense, maybe we'd all be safe and sound in Baltimare! No, this mutiny is so we never have to suffer the consequences of your inadequacy ever again! We're going to get back to shore and dump you in the nearest jail. If this ship ever sails again, you're not going to be a part of it."

Silence fell between the two, broken only by the whistling of the wind and the quiet huffing of their breath as they slowly calmed down. "So this is how it ends then?" Wren remarked sadly.

Dune nodded. "I'm sorry Wren," he replied, procuring some rope and stepping forward to tie her up—

—only to scream as Wren's cutlass sliced through his front leg.

"AHHHHHH GET HER!"

Flaring her wings, Wren streamed past the stunned lieutenant. The sound of a dozen hooves on the deck prompted her to take to the air, but when she looked back she found herself trailed by two fellow pegasi.

A crimson one named Red Skies caught up to her first, swinging his cutlass and getting close enough to shave some hairs off Wren's tail. She whipped around, and with her own cutlass still in hoof, locked steel with her former crewmate as she struggled to push him away. Steel clashed against steel, and the two fought for long enough that a yellow pegasi named Windward caught up and nearly stabbed Wren in the leg with her knife.

Wren fought for an opening, eventually finding it in the form of a hoof to Red's face. As he tumbled and struggled to regain control, Wren turned to Windward and locked steel a few more times until she managed to wrestle the knife from Windward's mouth. Her attackers momentarily stunned, Wren continued flying up until she perched at the top of the mast, the crow's nest just below.

It was then she realized she had no plan.

"Shit, what am I doing..." she muttered, looking down to see her pursuers rapidly approaching. Instinct had taken over, and now she was probably fighting for her life. With no time to think of a way to defuse the situation, she jumped off the top of the mast and dived straight down, head first.

Flaring her wings, Wren braked at the last second and landed with a slam on the wooden deck. The rest of the crew, upon seeing this, let out a yell and charged her. Wren yiped and scrambled away, narrowly dodging Red and Windward as they tried to land in front of her. She needed something drastic.

Around the deck of the Hemera, lanterns were regularly placed to provide light through the poor weather or the dark night. Cast iron frames with glass protecting the oil-fueled flames inside from the wind. If she broke one...

Wren alternated running and gliding as she lured her pursuers around the bow of the ship, then back around towards the stern, making a massive circle around the central mast. Swiping a lantern on the way, she whirled around to face her crew and held the lantern high. "STAND DOWN OR I BURN US ALL!"

Immediately everypony chasing her stopped dead in their tracks. They looked between each other and Wren with uncertainty, then some of them took a step or two forward. Wren responded by holding it even higher and shaking it. "YOU THINK I'M MESSING AROUND?!" she yelled, finally causing them to all to freeze.

"Wren..." Map huffed, "you'd be killing us all. You're not stupid..."

Wren locked eyes with her navigator, refusing to flinch or lower her flame.

Through the chaos and commotion, nopony had noticed the wind picking up. As the crew engaged in a standoff with their vengeful captain, a particularly harsh gust of wind appeared out of nowhere, howling as it dumped even more snow on the ship's deck. After a few agonizing seconds for all involved, the gust passed, leaving them in the same position as before.

Then a loud clang cut through the air.

Over a dozen pairs of eyes turned to look at the source of the noise. At the bottom of the ship's remaining mast, a large metal collar had wrapped around the base of it, secured to the deck and extending up several feet. A collar that had just split open.

The mast began to topple, slowly at first, then picking up speed as gravity pulled it down faster and faster. The entire structure, sails and all, crashed over the starboard side into the frozen water with a mighty splash, kicking up a huge spray of water. The top dipped below the water, then bobbed back up, but not before it had gone deep enough to pull the entire severed mast into the water. As it lay there drifting, the seas slowly began to calm again.

Wren slowly turned to face the crew with horrified eyes, and gently put down her lantern. Tears formed in the corners of her eyes. "I..."

"I'm sorry..."

Wren didn't bother resisting this time. Not a word was spoken by anypony involved as they slowly tied her up and brought her to the brig. Tossed inside, she slumped on the floor and didn't bother looking up as the door slammed shut behind her. Left alone in the dark and cold, she began sniffling, and her tears rapidly progressed into full blown sobs.

Minutes turned to hours, and hours felt like days as the disgraced captain poured her heart out onto the dirty floor. Even after she had no more tears left to give, she remained glued to the floor, and occasionally hiccuped. As the sun went down, and the temperature plummeted, Wren managed to drift into a troubled sleep.

~~~~~

The summer sun shone down brightly on Baltimare's harbor. Ponies dashed to and fro across the docks, carrying rope, boxes, barrels, or nothing at all as they tended to their ships. From north to south hundreds of white sails could be seen, vastly outnumbering the dock workers, and making it hard to see the water beneath the sea of white sails and brown wood.

Wren lazily watched as ships drifted into port or headed out to see from her vantage point on the back porch of a restaurant. The 'Portside' as it was called was an old restaurant on a hill overlooking Baltimare's beaches. It was frequented by sailors, and though Wren wasn't one of them, she liked to come here often to watch the waterfront.

Today though, Wren couldn't stop looking between the harbor and the copy of the Baltimare Chronicle in her hooves. "TRADE REOPENED WITH GRIFFON KINGDOM" read the headline, followed by paragraphs explaining Celestia's latest diplomatic victory in the form of a new treaty with the griffons and some of the details of the agreement. The gears had been turning all day, but Wren had yet to form a solid plan.

Eyes locked on the article, Wren read and re-read it multiple times while her hoof gently felt at her pocket where a familiar metal disk sat. So engrossed in the paper was she, that Wren almost jumped when the waitress finally appeared with a plate containing two halves of a large daisy sandwich. "Here's your sandwich miss."

"Um, excuse me," Wren coughed, gaining the attention of the waitress. "Do you, er, happen to know where I could buy a ship around here?"

~~~~~

Wren awoke to a tingling sensation all over her body, as though sand had been poured under the skin. Everything felt cold, and she shivered uncontrollably.Hearing a door open nearby, she weakly lifted her head. Cold and weak, she could only gaze in fear as Sand Dune limped inside and looked at her.

"C-cold..." was all she managed.

Dune sighed and closed his eyes. "I know. The crew deliberated last night, and we came to the conclusion there's no point leaving you to suffer if we're all going to die here anyway. You'll be free to walk around the ship, but nopony is to answer to you anymore, and if you step out of line you will be left to freeze to death in here."

She weakly nodded. "Th-thank y-y-y-you..."

Retrieving a set of keys from the wall nearby, Dune unlocked Wren's cell and stepped over to the shivering pegasus to undo the ropes binding her hooves. He offered his bandaged hoof, but she was in too much pain to even begin standing. Seeing this, he left and returned a few minutes later with a plate of hardtack, some warm blankets, and a lit torch.

Dune watched as Wren slowly warmed herself, and eventually started nibbling on some of the tasteless crackers. "How is the rest of the crew?" she finally decided to ask.

"Taffrail hung himself." Wren nearly choked on her meal as Dune said those words. She stared up at him in disbelief, but he continued before she even had a chance to process. "Red Skies and Windward left this morning, they decided to try their chances at flying back to Equestria. Otherwise everypony is just...sitting around..." Waiting for the inevitable.

Wren sniffled. "Is...is Treasure Map okay?"

"She's been trying to tell us that the ocean currents might still bring us to shore," he closed his eyes. "But even if that's true it'll take...too long."

Wren put her head down and said no more, making an effort to choke down the rest of her food. When she was finally fit to try standing, he left the room, but not before she gently coughed. "S-sand Dune?"

He turned to look her in the eye with a neutral expression. "Yeah?"

"I'm really...really sorry..." she choked.

Dune said nothing for a several seconds, until finally his face fell. "I know. I am too," he replied, and left immediately.

Upon feeling alive enough to stand, Wren began to pick herself off the ground. On shivering legs, she threw the blankets over her back and took the torch in her mouth as she began plodding her way out. With the brig being in the bottom of the ship, it took her several agonizing minutes make it up to the deck. She passed by the furnace and found it cold and dark, all the wood used up. The kitchen and dining area was empty, cannibalized of everything useful.

Emerging onto the frozen deck of the Hemera, Wren was greeted by an icy breeze. After the suffering from the night before, it did little more than tickle her numb extremities. The ship was even quieter than before now that it was dead in the water, with only the wind, the faint lapping of waves against the hull, and her own breathing to listen to.

With no more point in managing the ship, the few souls that remained up top stood around, as if waiting for the elements to finish them off. A small group was talking with each other, and one of them scoffed as Wren walked by. "Gonna fly away from your problems like the others, bitch?"

"Thanks for getting us killed!"

Their words stung, but Wren ignored them and slowly made her way to the ship's stern, hoping she was still allowed inside her cabin. The ship's helm was uncrewed, but as the highest point on the ship now, lanterns and a large white flag had been put up in some desperate hopes at signalling another ship if it happened to be out here. Sand Dune stared down at the ship from on top, eventually making eye contact with Wren. As she slowly passed through the door to her cabin, he made no effort to stop her.

Treasure Map was the only other pony occupying the room. Laying on the floor amidst a stack of blankets and a bottle of rum, she looked up as Wren entered. Wordlessly, Map pulled another unopened bottle and slid it over to her former captain before turning her back. Wren popped it open and downed half the bottle in one swig, before tiredly walking over to the furnace in the corner.

The bookshelf in the room was gone, as were most of the books; a last ditch effort to warm the ship. The books that remained were spread out near the furnace, the one she read not among it. With slow, stunted movements, she tossed them all inside, dropped the torch in as well, and snuggled up in front of the meager fire. Faded yellow pages and lines of ink burned, blackened and turned to ash before her eyes as she nursed the last of the rum.

Time gradually ticked by, and as it did, the fire slowly died and the contents of the rum bottle disappeared. Buzzed, but not tired, Wren merely gazed ahead at the lingering ashes and let herself fall into a trance while her thoughts tortured her.

Wren wasn't sure how many hours had passed, but it was the sound of a commotion outside that finally snapped her out of her stupor. Turning her ears towards the sound, she rose to her hooves and gently stepped by the snoring form of Treasure Map as she came to the door and peeked outside.

Several of the crew were gathered at the railing, peering over the side of the ship. They murmured quietly among themselves, and Wren strained to listen to some of them.

"...believe he just threw himself over?"

"Can't say I blame him..."

Wren grimaced and closed the door once more.

Wren paced around the cabin.

It was dark outside, the sun had gone down ages ago. She felt tired, but she didn't feel like sleeping. She didn't want to wake up again with her hooves numb and her body shivering; there was nothing left to burn and if she woke up cold, there'd be no way to warm up. She just needed to keep pacing. Walking was exercise, and exercise meant she stayed warm.

Yes, she just needed to keep pacing...

~~~~~

Rain poured down from the heavens as she galloped down the cobblestone streets of Fillydelphia. When the weatherponies had called for rain, she hadn't expected a downpour like this. Thankfully the bar she was looking for wasn't too far ahead, and she was more than glad when she stepped through the door into a warm tavern interior.

In chairs and booths, seated around ornate tables, ponies laughed and talked. Glass mugs of beer clinked, and a few tables had the flipping of cards or rolling of dice. Wren's first instinct was to go buy a cider and join in, but that would come after she talked to her target. As it just so happened, he sat alone in the corner.

"Hello, are you Sand Dune?" Wren asked as she trotted up to the blue stallion.

He looked up from a book, setting it down too fast for Wren to catch anything other than the words 'sea power'. "Aye, who wants to know?"

Wren took the seat across from him, and dropped a bag onto the table from which a few gold bits spilled out. "Whistling Wren, captain of the Hemera. Heard through the grapevine you're looking for work?"

~~~~~

Wren shivered as she slowly brought herself to her hooves. She couldn't remember falling asleep, but in retrospect, it was inevitable. The morning light glinted through the frosted windows, but brought with it no warmth. She began pacing again, hoping to get the blood flowing through her frozen veins.

The still form of Treasure Map remained in the exact same place where she had been the night before. Wren slowly trotted over to the unicorn and put a hoof to her cold, solid body. Not a single bit of movement, no matter how many times she poked and prodded. She quietly choked, but there weren't any more tears left to give. Wren gently draped a spare sheet over her friend.

A few minutes later Sand Dune stopped by. The stallion passed her a small bag. "Last of the hardtack." Wren shoved it back; she wasn't hungry.

Dune nodded, his expression empty, and turned to leave. Wren considered telling him about Map, but bit her tongue. Alone again, she resumed pacing.

Wren's stomach grumbled. No appetite didn't mean she wasn't hungry, but she had already made her choice; somepony else probably needed it more. She lamented the lack of alcohol though; if it hadn't been cleared out when her room was cannibalized, she would've dug into another bottle about now.

She had stopped pacing a while ago; exhaustion had set in. Right now she laid on the floor, her back to Map's corpse, and slowly scraped her hoof against the floorboards in an attempt to occupy herself. The cold was setting in again; both her face and her hooves burned and felt slightly numb. A few minutes ago she had felt some warmth coming from one of the cabin's vents, but the warm air brought with it the unbearable smell of burning hair and meat for some reason. Though she had suffered through it and gagged for the warmth, it was gone almost as quickly as it came.

With her head pressed to the floor, Wren listened to the faint sound of another pony below. Directly below her was the food storage room, and she heard the sound of a pony gagging, followed by the faint thunk of metal falling. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath and stood up once more.

Cold.

Hunger.

Cold and hunger. Hunger and cold. Wren couldn't keep her mind on anything else.

Night had fallen on the ship once again. Everything was quiet; she hadn't heard anything but her own breathing in hours. She lay on the floor, wrapped in blankets that no longer helped provide any warmth. Icicles had formed on her chin.

Wren's eyes drooped and every part of her felt empty and exhausted. She didn't expect to survive the night. Part of her didn't want to. She tried to stay awake, but the weight of her eyelids eventually won out and she hung her head.

~~~~~

"Hey Sand Dune," Wren suddenly said, in between bites of steamed carrot. "I've been meaning to ask, what inspired you to travel with me?"

Dune looked up from his own plate, then wiped his mouth. "Oh uh, well, I've always wanted to see the ocean. Be on a ship you know. I told you I grew up in a coastal town right? Used to watch the ships come and go and wondered what it would be like."

"Sailing for the sake of sailing then?" Wren wondered.

"I suppose you could say that," Dune shrugged, pausing to take another bite of his meal. "How about you captain?"

"Money," she replied plainly.

Dune blinked, then furrowed his brow. "Money? Really? That's it?"

Wren nodded, smiling.

"Okay, but...if you wanted money, why not go be a doctor or lawyer?" he wondered.

"Cause that's like six years of school?" she interjected.

"Fair, but still, why sailing specifically? There's always something that draws a pony to the sea besides money."

"Oh it's money alright," Wren replied, waving a hoof. As she stared at the stunned stallion across from her, she grinned mischievously. "But not for the reason you're probably thinking."

Wren suddenly got up from her chair and trotted over to her bookshelf, retrieving an item from the top shelf. She returned to her seat a moment later, and slid a small wooden box across the table. When Sand Dune eyed it, she motioned for him to open it. Upon opening it, dozens of coins of different sizes and colors stared back.

"Uh, they're just coins?"

Wren sighed and got up from her seat once more, trotting over to her lieutenant's side. "Not just any coins," she clicked her teeth. "Got some Equestrian bits of course, especially some real old ones. Those ones there are some grifffon silver pieces, you can see some of their old kings on them. Those are Zebran silvers, that one's also Zebran but it's gold, quite rare those ones. Oh and that—" her hoof moved to a gemstone, "—well, that's not really a coin, but it basically is to dragons. When they're not eating them, that is."

Dune stared blankly as Wren explained the contents of the box to him. Finally he turned to look at her. "You sail the sea to collect coins?"

Wren smirked. "Well I'd say it's a more tangible goal then yours."

As Dune shrugged and returned his dinner, Wren gently patted the coin she had left in her pocket.

~~~~~

Wren awoke to an especially bright sun streaming through the window directly onto her face.

She felt empty. Numb. Burning. Against all odds she was still alive, though she felt as though this was the worst outcome.

Wren slowly lifted her chin from the floor, feeling resistance at first, then a quiet ripping sound combined with a tugging sensation. The numbness was welcome for once, as when she looked down a patch of skin remained stuck to the floor. From what she could see of her hooves they were hard and blackened, the discoloration traveling up until her leg until her clothing obscured the true extent of it.

Despite her condition, Wren could still feel a hint of life left in her bones, as well as a painful burning sensation. With a pained groan she forced herself up on quivering legs, half expecting them to snap in half. Wren removed herself from the blanket pile and start trying to tear her clothing off. Everything felt so warm, and though she didn't know why, she just had to get it off. When she finished she was left standing naked in the middle of her cabin, panting.

Wren finally looked up. The door was open, in it standing the silhouette of a pony. She took a quivering step forward and nearly fell back onto the floor. When she regained balance and looked up, the form was walking away, seeming to melt into the blinding light outside. Wren blinked and it was gone, but with the door wide open she felt beckoned and began to follow.

One hoof in front of the other. Step. Step. Wren kept her head low as she gradually made her way across the deck. Out of the corner of her vision she spotted the still form of a crewmate splayed out on the deck. She shut her eyes and continued walking.

The air was cold, but carried a faint warmth with it that she hadn't felt in a while. Or maybe it was a result of the burning sensation she felt on parts of her body. At the very least the wind was still and the seas were calm, and when she opened her eyes again she realized neither snow nor fog clouded her vision.

Step. Step. Only the crunch of snow and faint creaking of stiff boards greeted her until she thought she heard a faint huffing from someone other than her. Glancing to her side. she saw a pony laying on the side of another. There was blood surrounding his muzzle and his sunken eyes seemed to follow Wren as she passed by the horrible sight, unable to look away. She thought she heard her name, but hoped it was just a stray breeze.

Wren soldiered ever forward, stopping only to wheeze or correct her footing; with no feeling in her hooves she felt constantly on the verge of tripping. Still she pressed on, fueled by little other than a halfhearted desire to know what she had done. Though when she finally arrived at the bow of the ship, she was met with a terrible sight.

Sand Dune's corpse lay at her hooves. A pool of frozen blood layered the deck, centered around his neck. His knife lay nearby. Wren's face contorted, ready to cry out in anguish, but all she could manage was a quiet "n-no..."

Using the last of her strength, Wren stepped over the body of her lieutenant and draped her front hooves across the ship's railing. The clear blue water was straight below. At this point she doubted its cold embrace could be anymore painful. Wren struggled to climb over the railing, but at that point her frozen hooves finally failed her and she fell backwards with a quiet yelp.

Wren lay there, still as could be, trying to find the energy to finish the job. She was spent. Her head felt like a stack of lead bricks as she slowly lifted it, her empty eyes looking straight ahead at the vast open ocean...

...and with the fog having dissipated, Wren was able to make out a city on the horizon.