THE SECRET OF PONY ISLAND™

SOMEWHERE DEEP IN THE CARIBBEAN

Cue: Title Music

ALEXARTS PROUDLY PRESENTS

THE SECRET OF PONY ISLAND™

PART I: THE THREE TRIALS

Derpy Hooves shivered as the warm and humid air of the Caribbean blew over the hilltop. She let out a sigh, bringing the mug of hot chocolate to her lips and taking a sip. Her mother had always told her that it wasn’t the heat but the humidity that killed you but that was kind of a moot point when you were a pirate, you were more likely to get shot or stabbed than you were of catching a cold.

It’s not like she’d asked for this job as a lookout anyway, it had been the only one the pirates had been willing to give her after her last experience. That was their fault too, giving a job as a gunner to someone with troubled eyesight, how she had managed to hit her OWN ship with a broadside was a mystery that still eluded her former employer, Captain Whooves.

Still, Derpy was determined to make the best of it. She’d become the best lookout this town had ever known, sitting alone on the hill overlooking Trot Bay she’d spot any ship coming or out. Nevermind that all crews had been grounded for months ever since the Dread Ghost Pirate LeSombra had taken over the seas and that anyone who dared sail ANYWHERE quickly found himself burnt by the fires of hell that threatened to consume the world of the living. Yes, she’d spot them and let the others know about their grisly and predictable fates.

Even now she had both eyes focused on the bay; no ships, pirates or ghosts would slip past her guard, no sir. She was so concentrated on her duties that when a voice piped in behind her with a polite: “Hi, my name is Spike and I want to be a pirate!” She almost jumped ten feet in the air while shrieking like a mad-pony.

“By Celestia’s beard, kid, don’t startle me like that!” She yelled indignantly, trying to centre her sight on the one who had so unkindly surprised her.

“I’m over here.” Spike waved one of his claws in the air, trying to get the blonde-maned Pegasus’ attention. The strange lookout was still facing the Bay.

“Sure, sure, whatever you say.” Still hovering in the air, Derpy allowed herself to float down back to ground level, landing with a soft thud. “Now where did you go?”

The voice interrupted her thoughts. “Down here.”

Derpy did as instructed, craning her neck downwards and ended up staring a short, purple-and-green dragon that was, maybe, one head shorter than her. It was wearing a pair of black shorts and a white shirt.

It wasn’t a normal dragon though, it didn’t have wings so that meant he couldn’t be one of those beasts that flew around the islands breathing fire and destruction every time they fancied a meal, plus he wasn’t the appropriate size. He wasn’t a sea dragon either, coming out from under the sea to rain sorrow and death, crushing entire ships under their mighty jaws just to score some new treasure for their hoards. He wasn’t even one of the fabled and mythical magic dragons, the kind that only shows up when certain mixtures of (illegal) herbs have been smoked and provide endless laughter and a constant stream of questionable and usually dangerous ideas. Nope, he wasn’t any of that, he was just a dragon.

The grey Pegasus frowned. “So you want to be a pirate?”

“Yes, that’s what I said.”

“Not a firefighter?” She inquired.

“What? No.” Spike shot her a confused look.

“Ah, that makes sense, it’d be odd for a dragon to want to become a firefighter.” Derpy sentenced, her curiosity satisfied for the time being. “Well, if you are serious about becoming a pirate then you should talk to the… THREE PIRATE LORDS!”

The dragon in front of her, he had said his name was Spike, looked to be deep in thought, his right claw propped on his chin and his gaze fixed on the ground. She knew what was going to happen next: he was going to ask about her eyes, they all asked about her eyes, she hated when they asked about her eyes. Right there and then she made herself a promise to buck the next guy who asked about her eyes.

Thus, she was pleasantly surprised when Spike looked up and, instead, wondered: “Thanks, but where can I find the three pirate lords?”

“Oh, that’s easy, you’ll find all three of them in the Scumm Bar, right down those stairs.” She pointed at the stairs, carefully and masterfully carved on the very hill they were standing on, that lead down into town. “It’s the first building you’ll see when you enter the bay.”

“That’s great, and now I go seek my fortune, thanks again!” Spike cheerfully commented as he made ready to leave. “One last thing though.”

“Yes?”

“What’s with your eyes?”

The last thing he saw before passing out was a white mug coming straight at his face, his unconscious body rolled and thumped its way down the hard, rocky steps.

“That’ll teach them.” Derpy smiled to herself, she had nailed the sucker right in the forehead, and turned back to the watching the Bay. Right there, just about to exit the port was a ship, it had gone out while she was busy talking to the dragon. The pegasus felt the anger bubbling in her chest as she looked up at the heavens and let out a mighty roar.

“FU-“

Spike woke up several hours later with a throbbing headache that made him feel like a herd of ponies had stampeded through his skull. His face was swollen and if his brain had been stampeded then his charming good looks had gotten bombed. If this was what living like a pirate was all about, he thought, then he had been sorely mislead.

The young dragon forced his eyes open and was scared when he saw only blackness, his boggled mind raced through a number of equally horrifying possibilities, what if he had been kicked blind, or worse, what if he was dead? Now he’d never become the greatest pirate that ever lived and the position of greatest pirate that ever died was already filled!

Or it could just be that it was still night-time and that those white pinpricks up there weren’t his imagination but stars. Eeyup, that made way more sense. Though it was incredibly strange; it was already dark before the crazy-eyed lookout hit him, logic dictated it should be day by now.

Ignoring the intricacies of space-time, Spike stretched his limbs and began to pick himself up, groaning as his joints popped and his achy muscles complained. It took a few minutes for him to stand up and take stock of his current situation. He still had his clothes on, which was a plus, but his pockets were now devoid of any currency or personal items he might have been carrying.

The drake looked around; he was standing on a wooden platform over the water. He could see the town just down the road and the hill, a small fire roaring on the top, just opposite of it. Even now he could make out the silhouette of the pegasus against the flames, her golden eyes piercing the darkness and staring deep into his soul. Spike trembled in fear and backed away, hiding behind a barrel.

Once he deemed himself safe from the wrath of the all-seeing pony, he continued his survey of the area. The platform itself was rickety and filled with holes and gaps, yet was sturdy enough to sustain the numerous ships tied to it and a number of unmarked buildings. All seemed equally dark and dead.

Only one differentiated itself from the others courtesy of the lights coming out of the windows and open door. He could smell the stench of alcohol and pony sweat drifting out, and the sounds of boisterous yelling, singing and fighting (as evidenced by the broken glasses, bottles and chairs laying all over the place) marked it as a tavern. A sign hung over the door, poorly written and in an even worse state than the building itself, it read: SCUMM BAR.

“Well, that’s convenient.”

Spike waddled to the bar pushing the revolving doors to enter. They fell off their hinges and onto the wooden floor with a loud BANG! That was enough to silence all the patrons. The dragon gulped, the bar was filled with denizens of all kinds, sizes and colours: pegasi, earth ponies, unicorns, even the odd zebra and donkey. They all had one thing in common and that was that they were all pirates, most were missing a limb or two, had an eyepatch (and in one case, two), any type of tattoo you could imagine ranging from “I <3 Mom” to anchors, crossed swords and skulls. They all had tough faces, scars and mean looks. And more importantly, they were armed. And it just so happened that all of these nice folks were staring at him.

Our hero took a step back and waved. “H-hi. I-I’m Sp-Sp-Spike and I want to be a p-p-pirate.” His only response was silence… the one of the ponies snorted and the pirates all went back to their business. The room was soon as it was before Spike had entered. Thanking Celestia for his lucky break, the dragon took in the scenery.

It seemed as if the patrons had taken all available space; there were pirates on the floor, on the chairs and on the tables, one of them was even hanging from the ceiling. The bar itself was in no better state, the air felt heavy with smoke and the floorboards were stained with ages old beer, wine and tobacco. Broken glasses and bottles littered the place; it was a miracle that nobody had cut themselves. And for some crazy reason, it was darker inside than it was outside. He also noticed that the room had been cut in half by an old and ragged blue curtain, the pirates reached all the way to it, but no one dared go past.

Spike approached the nearest table, noticing a group of stallions playing a game of cards. The closest to him was an earth pony with a caramel coat, his cutie mark depicted three blue horseshoes. His mane was tied into a ponytail with most of his head covered by a black bandana.

The young drake cleared his throat, trying to garner the pirate’s attention. His efforts were unsuccessful, as the stallion merely ignored him and kept playing. Not one to give up, Spike tried again, this time tapping him softly on his back.

“Excuse me… uh… mister… do you know where can I find the three pirate lords?” His tone gave away his nervousness.

The caramel pony looked down at him, grinning before opening his mouth and revealing that he was missing several teeth. He also had a terrible breath. Oh, and no tongue. He must have found Spike’s horrified face very amusing because he started laughing very loudly, his fellow players joining in after taking a look at the dragon.

Spike found himself backtracking again, away from the jolly group of buccaneers, only to trip on something fluffy and furry. It barked loudly, disgruntled at having been awoken from its nap.

On the floor again, the drake looked at his feet. There was a dog of an indeterminate breed; its body was mostly brown with her tail, legs, muzzle and underside a dirty white. It had a red collar around its neck, though Spike could only guess at what kind of pirate marked their property so, besides, it was remarkably well-fed, another oddity when you took into account the run-down tavern he was in.

“Hello doggy, what are you doing here?” He petted the animal carefully with his claw.

“Woof roof, woof.” The mutt wagged its tail excitedly.

“You don’t say.”

“A-roof, woof.”

“What happened next?” Spike wondered.

The dog growled before continuing. “Woof roof woof *grr* woof.”

“Huh.” Still laying on his back among the trash, Spike scratched his chin.

“Woof.”

Once again, the dragon stood up, dusting his clothes and shooting a determined glare at the curtain, softening as he turned back to the dog at his feet. “Oh, thanks for the tip.” Content at having fulfilled its purpose in this story, the dog barked and went back to sleep. Spike shrugged and approached the divider, steeling his will and courage for what was to come.

With one last breath, the drake pushed the curtain aside and stepped into the unknown or, rather, the ‘VIP’ room. And by VIP we mean the room was exactly like the other one minus all the ruckus and pirates, instead there was one table, right next to the window, where three fillies sat, nurturing three steins filled with Celestia-knows what. One of them had a yellow coat and a red mane, topped with a pink bow; the second one was a pegasus and sported a short purple mane and an orange coat; the last one was an unicorn, she had a light gray coat and a mulberry mane with pale rose streaks.

Spike stared wide-eyed, his mind trying to process the information but failing to take it in. The three pirate lords were nothing more than a group of school-aged fillies? They didn’t even have cutie marks! It dawned on Spike that the world was a very unfair place. Still, he had come here for a reason and by Celestia’s majestic beard, he wasn’t going to leave now.

“Ahem.”

The ‘pirate lords’ looked up from their drinks, sizing the dragon up with determined, blood-thirsty eyes. Unable to move from his spot, the dragon sat there in silence until one of them, the earth pony with the pink bow, spoke up.

“What do you want, kid?”

Spike sighed and repeated his thing for the third time this day, it had become some sort of mantra for the stressed and battered drake. “Hi, my name is Spike and I want to be a pirate!”

This time, it was the orange pegasus filly that picked up the conversation.

“And so what?” She let out, seemingly bored.

“Uh… that’s it; I just want to be a pirate.”

“Well, tough luck kid.”

“Yeah, get lost.”

Spike let his shoulders drop and was about to turn around and leave when the unicorn, the one who had remained silent so far, piped in.

“Wait, we need more pirates.”

Her comrades looked at her with marked interest.

“Remember that since LeSombra showed up we’ve been short on pirates, and having no pirates means no booty and no booty means no cider and we are getting awfully short on cider.” She punctuated her statement by pointing her hoof at the half empty mug.

The other two looked at each other. “She has a point.” The purpled-maned filly nodded and the three of them turned back at the dumbfounded Spike.

“So you wanna be a pirate, huh?”

Spike nodded in response, unable to muster an appropriate verbal answer.

“Do you have any special skills?”

“I can hold my breath for ten minutes!” He announced proudly.

“That works for me, but first you need to pass…”

“THE CIDER TEST!” They shouted in unison.

“The what now?”

“THE CIDER TEST!” They shouted again, somehow managing to be even louder.

“I’ll make a wild guess, you want me to drink cider?”

“Aye, but this is not your regular cider!”

“Do tell.”

“This is SCUMM cider!”

“It’s composed of, but not limited to, the following items:”

“Tar.”

“Apple juice.”

“Horse tranquilizers.”

“Fuel oil.”

“Rum.”

“Liquid nitrogen.”

“Mane dye.”

“Scumm.”

“Sugar.”

“Spice.”

“And/or everything nice.” Finished the unicorn by slamming her hoof against the table.

“Wouldn’t that kill you?”

“Not if y'all're a REAL pirate! Bring th' cider!”

There was a bit of a delay until a red stallion poked his head out of the kitchen door. “Nnope, y’all know that you are too young to be drinkin’ that.”

“Oh come on!”

“Nnope.” The mysterious stallion went back in and closed the door.

“That’s so uncool, what are we gonna do we with the rookie now?”

The three fillies got off their seats and formed a circle, heads in so Spike wouldn’t be able to hear them. They hadn’t counted on Spike’s incredibly useless and normal draconic hearing, and thus he wasn’t able to make out anything else than the word ‘trials’. And then only because the unicorn had said it very loudly and was promptly shushed by her peers.

As quickly as they had started to conspire, the pirate lords jumped back to their seats.

“Since you can’t take the cider test then Ah guess we’ll hafta it do it like in the old times.”

“And what would that be?”

“THE THREE TRIALS! THE THREE TRIALS! THE THREE TRIALS!” By now Spike had figured that if he spent another minute in here with these three, he was due to become deaf. Tentatively raising a claw, he inquired: “And what would those be?”

“The three trials are the ancient pirate way of testing those who seek to become a… err… pirate.” The filly said, solemnly.

“They will test your skill, courage and mettle.”

“And none of that fancy ‘being pure of heart’ thing will work here, you have to think, act and talk like a pirate.”

“The three trials are the swordspony…”

“… The thief…”

“… And the treasure hunter.”

“So all I have to do is defeat someone with a sword, steal something and find a buried treasure? That sounds easy enough.” The dragon said to himself, finally starting to regain his (limited) confidence.

“Of course not, you’ll have to defeat the Sword Master.”

“Steal the valuable golden idol from the Governor’s palace.”

“As for the treasure, it is said that one was buried in the jungle decades ago. And we could always use the money to buy more cider.”

“So… Spike, was it? What will you do?”

Author's Note

Many thanks to my pre-readers:
Pia-Chan
Jack Davis

And my proof-reader and editor:
TotallyNotAnyone

And, of course, the artist who made the amazing cover picture:
Pia-Chan