Heart of War- Act VII

>”Oi, Thunder.”
>You are nudged as you hear a familiar accent.
>”Get up you little pleb.”
“Wa-what do you want Call, it’s…”
>You glace at your clock.
“Three in the morning… wait, how did you get in here?”
>”Yeah, you might need a new lock.”
“What is this? Payback?”
>”What? No, I’m not that petty… usually.”
“So why are you here?”
>”Because you have GOT to see this.”
>He jogs over to the balcony and opens the door; a cool night breeze hits you as it opens.
>”Come on then!”
>You slowly get out of bed, and walk over to the balcony.
>Glancing over to your door, you see that he forced it open.
“That is just never going to be useful again.”
>You turn back to Call.
“What could possibly be so important that you have to break into my room?”
>He points a hoof straight upwards.
“Don’t you have any respect… for… what in the name of Celestia is that?”
>You see a great metal mass lurching passing over the Palace.
>You can barely make out a silhouette in the darkness, but it’s huge.
>”Well I’d guess it’s our ride.”
“Brairheart really sold her short.”
>”You think that we’ll be out of a job come the next war?”
“I don’t know, but why does the navy always get the best toys?”
>”At least it’s on our side.”

>…
“You know Port, I don’t like this.”
>He continues to man the ship’s wheel in silence.
“It’s been almost a week without any incidents. I know I’m tempting fate here, but isn’t it about time for us to be attacked by some sea monster, or be caught in a freak storm, or get pulled into another island?”
>”Yes, you are tempting fate.”
“As always, your superb conversational skills astound me Commander.”
>”Glad I could be of assistance.”
“At least you have your wit.”
>He doesn’t reply, his focus trained on the horizon.
“So how was it for you climbing the ranks?”
>”Could you elaborate?”
“I mean with your name. Your commanding officers must have loved you.”
>He says nothing.
“Port, Port. Starboard, Port. Take us into port, Port.”
>”How original.”
“Oh cut me some slack, we’ve been at sea for over three weeks.”
>”You have only been at sea for two of those weeks.”
“Touché.”
>Is this what it’s like for Discord when he talks to you?
“Well, as you were. I’m sure we’ll have another one sided conversation at the officer’s dinner tonight.”
>You stay for a moment to see if he has any quip, but alas, he remains silent.
>Walking across the upper deck, you got to lean against the starboard side swivel gun.
>Sea, sea, and more sea for as far as you can see
>Heh.

>The monotony of the trip is starting to get to you.
>Alright, right about now, there should be some giant tentacle rising out of the water.
>A kraken is going to attack the ship and try to split it in two.
>No, just open waters and an undisturbed voyage.
>God this waiting…
>It’s like when you’re in a trench and the battlefield goes silent, the only thing you can do is prep for the incoming attack.
>But in a trench, the wait doesn’t last for days at a time.
>You might be a great soldier, but you seriously doubt your skills as an explorer.
>Day after day on the same ship.
>Hell, at this point you wouldn’t mind Discord dropping by.
>That’s probably the first time you’ve ever thought that…
>You stand back up straight, and rest your left hand on the pommel of your sword.
>After two incidents, you’ve started wearing it at all times while on the ship.
>You even sleep with it between your body and the wall when in your cot.
>Over half of all your personal kills were made with that blade; it is the one thing you can completely trust to always serve you to its fullest extent.
>It’s easily your most prized possession, despite it being completely unadorned.
>Just a weathered steel blade that you keep sharp.
>You let out a sigh.
>Turning, you start making your way down the steps to the main deck, and then head below.
>If you’re lucky, some off duty sailors might be playing poker.
>Just another day at sea…

>…
>Hold ‘em poker.
>You have a horrible hand.
>”Match or fold.”
>You check your cards again.
>Nope, it’s still a two of hearts and a four of clubs.
>Four cards are on the table.
>A five of diamonds, eight of spades, jack of spades, and the king of hearts.
>You look up at the other two that are still in.
>Unfortunately, you haven’t played with them enough to learn their tells.
“I’ll…”
>Why is it getting darker?
>Off to your right, a bit of light comes in from around the cannons.
>Well it usually does.
>It’s barely past noon, but almost all light is being cut off.
>You leave your cards on the table and start to stand.
“Fold.”
>Making your way to the stairs, you hear the sailors exchange a couple of confused comments.
>”Hey, wait! What about your bits?”
>You hear one of them call out as you round the corner.
>But you ignore his question as you move towards the steps to reach the main deck.
>At your first view of the sky, you see nothing but dark grey.
>But not storm clouds.
>As you step onto the main deck, you can barely see a hundred feet around the ship.
>Everything else is obscured in a dark and dense fog.
>It’s hard enough just to see either end of the ship.
>But you can make out the doors of the captain’s cabin opening.
>”Slow us down, Commander!”
>”Aye Captain.”
>You just had to tempt fate…
>Tiara is making her way up to the wheel, and you start walking towards the upper deck as well.
>Amongst scattered chatter from the crew, you can hear Commander Port’s voice distinguish itself.
>”Ma’am, the fog just appeared. One moment the horizon was perfectly clear, then-“
>”I can see what happened next, Commander.”

>Tiara pauses for a moment.
>Then proceeds to scream at the crew.
>”QUIET ON DECK!”
>Immediately every voice is silenced.
>Her shout confused you for a second, but you soon understood what she’s getting at.
>No wind.
>No waves.
>Not a single source of sound.
>The ship still has a bit of forward momentum, but you don’t feel the sea rocking it.
“Everything is still, and everything is quiet.”
>Dare you say: ‘too quiet’?
>You hear Port quietly speak.
>”Indeed.”
>Tiara yells up to the crow’s nest:
>”What do you see up there?”
>There is a slight pause before a reply.
>”Nothing, I can barely even see the deck.”
>You walk towards the stern of the ship, and begin scanning the fog.
>It’s a dark grey, and very little sunlight is managing to get through.
>As the ship starts to lurch to a stop, you look down and watch the water.
>Aside from the slight waves that the ship is causing, it is completely still.
>If the ship wasn’t present, then the surface would be completely flat.
>You hear a heavy set of hoofsteps as Port comes up next to you.
>He looks to the water as well.
“You ever hear of anything that could do this?”
>”No… however you might just get that sea monster attack that you wanted.”
“There’s that wit.”
>A softer set of hoof steps approaches your location, and you soon hear Tiara speak in a hushed whisper.
>”Quiet you two. Port, I want you to make the rounds, make sure everypony is accounted for, make sure they stay quiet and get to their battle stations. I want every single crewmember personally armed or on a cannon within five minutes. Hold them there indefinitely. Anonymous, with me and stay quiet.”
>Port nods before going his own way.
>And you follow Tiara down the steps to the main deck, and then into her cabin.

>She opens the door for you to enter, then closes it behind her.
>As she speaks, she lets herself talk slightly louder than her whisper on deck, however is still rather hushed.
>”Any ideas?”
>You match the general speaking volume.
“Plenty, none of them substantiated by anything other than baseless speculation.”
>”Options?”
>You know this conversation quite well.
>She’s using you for a secondary point of view, to state the obvious and obscure from a second set of eyes.
“Send out pegasi scouts.”
>She begins pacing the rom in a clockwise pattern, you start doing so as well when you’re on the opposite side from her.
>”Already considered, with the density of the fog, it’s likely they won’t be able to find their way back.”
“There aren’t many, but perhaps some of the unicorns we have could clear the fog.”
>”A possibility, however given that the fog could be magical in origin, I’d rather not risk anything unless absolutely necessary.”
“Right now, we’re facing a problem.”
>”Gee, you think?”
“Let me finish.”
>You bark back at her.
“Now, there are two possibilities. Either we’re the first ship to get trapped in this fog, or other ships have in the past. If we’re not the first, then another set of possibilities is brought up. Either the ships got out of it due to the obvious courses of action, or they didn’t get out because the obvious answers got them killed.”

>”Or, they never tried the obvious solutions because they had assumed other ships got trapped in the fog and assumed that an outside the box answer was needed.”
>That…
“It’s a circular logic.”
>”I want every possible option, inside or outside of the box. If one doesn’t work, then we’ll have to try the next.”
“With all due respect, no.”
>”You object?”
“It depends, do you think this is a natural phenomenon, or made by someone or something?”
>”Either is possible.”
“And if something made this fog, it’s safe to say that this is a trap, correct?”
>”Likely.”
“Have you ever hunted?”
>”What? No, of course not.”
“The best traps are always the ones that tighten the more the victim struggles. Well, I’d say the best traps are the ones that kill the victim outright, but the point still stands. If this is a trap, it could have been set centuries ago, and if it’s still working after centuries, then it means no one has ever broken it.”
>”However that leads back into the circular logic.”
“When it comes down to it, we have two basic options: wait or attempt an escape.”
>Tiara stops pacing, and goes to her center desk.
>She begins lighting a lantern that was sitting on it.
>”The closet closest to my bed, bottom drawer.”
>You make your way over to it, and take a knee to reach it.
>Inside you find five (very large) books, and dozens of files.
>”Everything.”
>You pull out the books and take them over to the table, and then return for the files.
>”The books are every naval manual since Equestria started writing them for the Royal Navy.”
“And the files?”
>You take a seat across from her.

>”Every file we had on base that was related to any official venture east beyond charted waters.”
>Your conversation is cutoff, as your attention shifts to the door as it opens.
>Port enters and closes it behind him.
>”The entire crew is at arms and ready. Orders?”
>”Keep them there. For now, we wait and see. How are they?”
>”Understood. And they are… rather calm, given that any normal pony would be terrified in this situation.”
>Before Tiara can reply, you speak.
“Fear accompanies the possibility of death, calm shepherds its certainty.”
>Silence takes over the room as you see contemplative looks on each of their faces.
>Eventually Tiara breaks it, speaking in a somber tone.
>”Commander, I want you at the wheel, notify me of any change.”
>”Aye.”
>Once he leaves the room and the door is closed once again, Tiara speaks:
>”Do you really think our chances are non-existent?”
“They certainly weren’t good; we all knew the risks… You know, certain warriors among my people would ride into battle after saying that ‘this is a good day to die.’”
>Her eyes dart between you and the stacks of files on the table.
“But today isn’t a good day to die, too much humidity. So let’s see if there’s any clue in these that might be of use.”
>Each of you opens up a file, and starts reading.
>All you need is a hint.
>Something, anything that could be of use in this situation.
>Even the most offhand mention of fog and still waters could prove to be invaluable.

>…
>One report mentioned how the water lit up as bright as the sun.
>Another survivor from these waters talked about a miniature flying goat named ‘Gar’ that was invisible and would always perch himself on his head… even while he wrote the report.
>A third wrote on how the waters turned to sand.
>Before you knew it, hours had passed.
>God this is dull.
“You know Tirra, I wish that at least one pony that came back from the East was only HALF mad.”
>”I know what you mean, listen to this: “and so, the purple squirrel god named me the rightful owner of all the world’s acorns”… it’s absurd.”
“Did that pony get royalties for all the acorns?”
>”Doesn’t say.”
>She goes back to reading, and you do as well.
>But you soon feel her kick your leg under the table, quite violently too.
>”And don’t call me that.”
“Did I?”
>”Don’t play dumb.”
>Closing the current file, you grab at a new one.
“On the bright side, we haven’t been attacked by anything.”
>”Good, so we’ll run out of supplies and all starve to death, that option is much better.”
“Technically we’d all dehydrate first.”
>”Excellent, our prolonged death will be slightly shorter than expected.”
“If it’s any consolation, I’ve come close to dying from both starvation and dehydration. I’d choose dehydration, but not by much.”
>”You know, if you start something with ‘if it’s any consolation’, you probably shouldn’t end it with ‘but not by much’.”
“If you’d prefer, I could start listing much worse ways to die. Have you ever had manticore venom in your bloodstream?”
>”I’m assuming that you have?”

“Once into your system, it burns. Not like fire, but like acid. And it slows your heart, so that it can remain in once place longer, doing more damage as it slowly spreads throughout your veins. The worst part is the itching; it makes you want to rip off your skin so you can scratch at it. And you might just well do that, until it starts immobilizing you. When that happens, all you can do is lay there as it covers each and every inch of your system, and you remain perfectly conscious for the entire time. Eventually it makes you lose your vision, leaving you helpless on the ground in the wild, and all you can do is listen to whatever monsters inhabit the forest… and smell them when they get real close.”
>”You must be fun at parties.”
“But a single drop of it into a shot of whiskey gives it an amazing kick. But only one drop, any more ingested is liable to boil your stomach acids, and the hangover from that can last weeks.”
>”I’m not sure if you’re mad or just suicidal.”
“No, I’ve just been on Death’s door quite a bit… Rasputin would be proud.”
>”Who?”
“Oh now that is quite the story. See he was this-“
>You stop yourself.
>And share a glance with Tiara.
>”I felt it too.”
>The ship lurched slightly to the port side.
>It’s now starting back to starboard to settle.
>You wouldn’t had noticed it if the ship hadn’t been so steady.
>Pushing out the chair you were sitting in, you stood.
>Tiara does the same and you both make for the door.
>As it opens, you are met with the same sight of the fog.
>On deck you see many crewmen holding swords or boarding pikes.
>Turning to go up the steps to the upper deck, you hear Tiara trot behind you.
>At the top, she goes around you to address Port, who is standing near the wheel.
>”What was that?”
>”Unknown, one of the men thought they saw a slight ripple in the water approaching the ship from the starboard side before it moved.”

>As Port answers, you feel the ship start to move once again.
>Rushing over to the starboard side, you look down to the water.
>Looking down, you see that the surface has broken.
>It looks like it’s… back to normal.
>And… you can feel wind once again.
>”What’s happening?”
>You hear Tiara ask to no one in particular.
>And…
“The fog is clearing.”
>It happens very quickly, maybe in the span of ten seconds.
>But soon the fog just disappears, and you can see the afternoon sun in the sky.
 >Turning around, you scan the horizon.
>Completely empty in every direction.
>And completely clear.
>There isn’t one sign of the fog.
>You hear Tiara order the crew:
>”Hold.”
>With bated breath, the crew awaits a change.
>Seconds turn to minutes, as everyone aboard prepares themselves for something to change.
>But nothing does.
>Eventually, Tiara plainly gives an order:
>”Commander, resume course. Have the men stand down but remain ready.”
>”Yes Ma’am.”
>She turns to face you.
>”I don’t like this; conditions can change quickly at sea, but not like this.”
“Discord, if this was you, I’m going to burn your house down.”
>No reply.
>You shrug at the others.
“Worth a shot.”
>Tiara then speaks:
>”I’m heading back to my cabin to get back at the files; you’re free to do as you’d like.”
“If you don’t mind, I think I’ll join you.
>Tiara nods and you follow her once she starts moving.
>There has to be something in those ravings of mad ponies that can shed light on your situation.

>…
>”She’s armed with eighty broadside cannons that can fire at a sixty-five degree depression. Thirty of them are thirty-two pounders, another thirty are twenty-four pounders, and the remaining twenty are twelve pounders. On the top are five twenty inch mortar emplacements, each with a maximum firing range of one and a half miles. The front facing main gun is the largest magical enhancing artillery piece ever constructed, at thirty-six inches in diameter.”
>Call leans over and whispers to you:
>”A bloody yard.”
“Shh.”
>You listen to Brairheart continue as eh addresses the soldiers that have gathered in the Palace gardens, all looking at the behemoth that is hovering over the cliff.
>”Additionally there are a pair of twelve inch magical cannons, as well as two conventional twenty-four pounders facing frontward. And on the stern of the ship are six nine pounders. It can take a complement of a thousand ponies, but should the need arise we could probably pack a couple hundred more in.”
>He pauses to catch his breath.
>”Now, as you can see the design is quite different than our other airships. Firstly, it is one mass, rather than having a balloon attached to the top. On the bottom lies the gun deck, where the broadside cannons are located. Inside of the structure lie three decks for standard operations, and an upper deck gives limited access to the top and mortar emplacements.  Between those interior decks and hull is where the light gasses are held. Secondly, you’ll note that is isn’t made of wood, instead she was built almost entirely using light yet durable metals, I won’t bore you all with the exact specifications.”
>Some of the soldiers give a slight chuckle.

>”The bottom line is that the only weapon that could do any real damage would be a near point blank shot from the most powerful of cannons. One of our old airships would require three unicorns to keep them in the air and mobile, usually with one or two additional ones on board in case the others need rest or are killed. This new ship requires a dozen active unicorns to keep her in the air, and due to the strain there are four separate teams working in shifts and a fifth back up. Her total length is just over six hundred feet, that makes it three times as large as our older airships.”
>He stops and looks out over the crowd of the Old Guard.
>”Some of you might be asking why we particularly need this, seeing as in their current states, none of our enemies could even come close to scratching it. The answer is that we need deterrence, and I some of the best deterrence comes through superior firepower. With this single ship, we can fight smarter and lose far less men to stalemates on the ground. She can go six months without resupply, and with her we can project power across the entire known world.”
>He pauses as the soldiers applaud.
>When it dies down, he offers the podium to Lancer, who begins addressing the men.
>”Sadly, our Chancellor and Field Marshal couldn’t be here today. However without his theories and design input, this ship wouldn’t be afloat right now. For the most part, he was extremely conservative with introducing weapons and technologies from his own world… That makes this design even more unique. I’m proud to introduce the HMS Prydwen into the Air Fleet… it’s the only ship in the Air Fleet, but within the year’s end, we should have eight old model Air Frigates afloat. And who knows, if this one does well, we might see more Prydwen Class Air Battlecruisers in our skies.”

>The crowd begins applauding once again.
>”But.”
>He tries to hush the crowd.
>”But, I think the biggest achievement of today, is that Admiral Brairheart actually has an Air Fleet to command. I’m not saying to get out of our manes, but…”
>You can make out Lancer grinning at Brairheart before he goes over to pat him on the back.
>And you hear assorted laughter from the crowd.
>Call then turns to you.
>”So, it just me, or do you have a bad feeling about this too?”
“What could possibly go wrong?”
>”Oh come on! Don’t jinx it you daft bastard.”
“What’s got you all riled up?”
>”We have a naval fleet; the Saddle Arabians build up theirs. We have an air fleet; the Saddle Arabians try to copy it. Now we have this…”
>You glance up at the large dark grey hulk in the sky.
>You can’t quite place it, but something about it doesn’t seem reassuring.
>…
>Later that evening, you found yourself in the meeting room with the others.
>The generals all seemed to be impressed with the ship.
>Lancer actually broke out a bottle of wine from the Palace cellar to celebrate.
>Holding up your glasses, you all toasted to the Prydwen.
>Offense then downed his entire glass in one go.
>Brairheart was the first to speak after he took a sip.
>”Also, I’m sorry if they spooked the civilians last night.”
>Lancer was the one to respond:
>”We had dozens of ponies running to patrols, but they were quickly reassured of the situation.”
>”Good, and with your permission, I’d like to delay the departure for another week.”

>”On what grounds?”
>”The crew could still go through a couple more days of training to familiarize themselves with the ship, after that I’d like to give them all a bit of shore leave.”
>”We’re not in any particular hurry, so granted.  Do you have a Captain chosen yet?”
>”Actually seeing as it’s both our flagship and the only ship in the Air Fleet, I planned to command it personally.”
>”I had a feeling you would; after all it has been years since we’ve actually had an air fleet, now you can stop playing administrator all the time.”
>Lancer glances at a clock on the wall.
>”Well, it is getting rather late. You all can have the next few days off.”
“Wait why?”
>”Because we’re ahead of schedule on all of our duties… and my wife insisted that I come home to her and the kids, she wouldn’t let me delay any longer.”
>Lancer turns to face General Wave, who was twirling the wine around in his glass.
>”You’re in charge while I’m gone. And I know how you can get, no wild parties while I’m gone, young man.”
>”I don’t think that will be an issue.”
>”You say that…”
>Lancer starts laughing at his own teasing of Wave.
>”Well, I’ve got an early train to catch, so excuse me.”
>Lancer takes his leave of the meeting room.
“Actually, I’m feeling a bit tired as well. Generals. Admiral.”

>…
>You feel a folder slap your face.
>”Wake up!”
>Opening your eyes, you see Tiara still on the other side of the table.
“Just resting my eyes… what time is it?”
>”Late.”
>Glancing around, you see that the room is only illuminated by lanterns.
>Out the windows, you can see the moon reflecting off of the water.
“Find anything useful?”
>”No.”
“So, that means that the fog was either unique to our voyage, or anyone else that was trapped in it was killed.”
>”But were they killed due to the fog, or other variables?”
“Or did some of them die from the fog, while others died from other causes.
>”You know, we really should stop these roundabout rhetorical questions.”
“But they help us bond.”
>She doesn’t look amused.
“I jest, I jest.”
>”So what were you reading?”
“Oh I was going through one of the old naval manuals. This one is from two hundred odd years ago.”
>”Find anything?”
“Words, words, words. But no, nothing about these waters at all… I am only a quarter of the way through though.”
>Diamond Tiara leans forward.
>”Hey Anon?”
“Yes?”
>”Get out.”
>She tells you in a coarse tone.
“Alright, alright.”
>You stand up from your seat.
“Well, goodnight Lady Tiara.”
>You then walk over to the door with no reply from her.
>Exiting the cabin, you are met with a cool night’s breeze.
>The sky is pretty clear tonight, you have a good view of the moon and its shimmers on the waves.
>Well, it is late, so you should turn in.
>You begin the trek down through the interior of the ship, making sure to step lightly as not to wake up the rest of the crew.
>Once you reach your area, you begin undressing, getting down to your boxers before lying on the small naval cot.
>Bringing your sheet over your body, you rest your arm on your sword as it lies next to you.
>It remains to be seen if the fog incident was one time only.
>But for now, you need your rest.

>…
>You take a drag of your cigarette as you examine the scene with your partner.
>On the sidewalk in front of an alleyway lies a corpse.
>He’s laying face up, a single bullet hole in his forehead.
>On the street in front of him is a set of skid marks, the car was quick to leave.
>”Well if this ain’t textbook, I don’t know what is. Looks like the first responding officers were right.”
>Your partner begins speaking as he strokes his goat beard.
>”Drive by with a single shot, probably a .45 from a Chicago Typewriter. This is the work of Eddie ‘The Trigger’ Baroni alright.”
“I know that D, the only question is why now, he hasn’t done a hit personally for over two years.”
>Wait…
>Why is everything in black and white?
>And D’s voice seems awfully familiar…
“Damnit Discord, get out of my dream!”
>”But it’s just so fun, when else will I get the opportunity to be a noir detective?”
“My subconscious is not your personal playground.”
>”Is my company really that harmful?”
>He adds another comment before you can answer.
>”Don’t answer that.”
“Come on, what do you want? Is this about the fog?”
>”What fog?”
>His question actually seemed genuine.
“A dark fog rolled in, and the waters went still, kept us immobile for a few hours.”
>”Fascinating.”
“So what was it?”
>”Oh I haven’t the slightest.”
“Oh come on…”
>”It’s true Anon. I’m just here to have a good old time with one of my friends.”
“We’re not friends.”
>”Well I’m completely bored, and you’re not doing anything, so I thought I’d drop by.”
“There’s an entire world of ponies for you to dream crash, why me?”
>”Pony dreams are boring. Half of the time they just sing and dance or have esoteric tea parties. Your dreams are so exciting by comparison.”
“But you’re not even in my dream, not really.”

>”No but at the end of it, I get to watch what happens like a movie.”
“You video tape my DREAMS?”
>”No, the experiences that ‘I’ go through get added into my memory once it’s over.”
“Get out of my head Discord!”
>”Make me!”
>You focus on kicking him out of this reality.
>But he still stands there with that annoying grin on his face.
>”What’s the matter? Not fully lucid dreaming?”
“Well excuse me, it’s not like dream control is an exact science.”
>Maybe you can try to wake up.
>You inhale sharply.
>Still here.
>Reaching up you pinch your cheek.
>You feel a bit of pain, but nothing happens.
“Hey Discord, we’re detectives, right?”
>”I for one am looking forward to investigating the hit. Do you think we’ll end up in a shootout with mobsters?”
“You sound like a giddy school child.”
>You reach into your suit jacket and grab the pistol under your shoulder.
“Bye Discord.”
>You bring the barrel up to your temple and pull the trigger.
>…
>You gasp for breath as you sit upright in your cot.
>Can’t even get a decent night of rest.
>It’s dark, but at least everything is in color again.
>You’ll never truly understand Discord’s fixation with annoying you.
>Reaching over, you grab a canteen and take a drink of water.
>You’re not sure what time it is.
>It’s still dark, and you don’t hear the crew speaking or working.
>And everything is so calm.
“Son of a…”
>You throw off your sheet and quickly pull on a pair of pants.
>Then grab your sword and start heading for the main deck.

>As you step out into the open air, your worries are confirmed.
>The ship is completely still; no waves rock it either way.
>And visibility is extremely poor, only now without the sun to light some of the fog it’s even worse.
>You can make out a few lanterns on deck, held by the crew that is assigned as the night watch.
>They’re all just standing around, looking into the fog.
>You walk over to the closest, who is looking off the starboard side into the water below.
“Come on man.”
>You place your free hand on his shoulder.
“I think this falls under ‘sound the alarm’.”
>”It just came in a second ago. Wait, what’s that?”
>You look forward into the fog as he points straight ahead.
>It’s impossible to make out anything in particular, but you see something big moving over the waters.
>A single wave rocks the ship slightly after it passes.
>You reach down and bring your sword out of its sheath.
>Then turn your head to face the crewman.
“Wake the others.”
>”Right.”
>He begins running towards the captain’s cabin.
>But as he does, you see the moon once again in the sky.
>And the ship begins rocking with the normal waves of the ocean.
“Wait. Everyone just hold up.”
>He stops before he reaches the door.
>You sheathe your sword and walk towards him.
“It’s passed, for this time anyway. I’ll be the one to break the news to her.”
>Tiara won’t be happy to be woken up.
>But she needs to know that there’s something in the fog.
>God that is so cliché.

>Approaching the captain’s cabin, you knock on the door gently.
>No response.
>Again, this time louder.
>Still nothing.
>Reaching down, you open the door.
“Lady Tiara?”
>You don’t hear a reply.
“Tirra?”
>This time you’re met with a slightly annoyed grumble.
“You awake?”
>Apparently not.
>You start walking over to her bed.
“Hey, wakey wakey.”
>Oh come on.
>Now at her bed, you find her sleeping on her back, leg slightly in the air.
“Get up.”
>You reach down and shake her shoulder.
>And are met with a right hook to your jaw.
“Gah, come on! It’s me.”
>”Why are you in my cabin?”
>She looks at you in the moon light coming into the room.
>”And why are you only half dressed.”
“The fog came back, this time only for a minute or two.”
>”What?!”
>She jolts up on her bed, scrambling to stand.
“It’s gone now. But…”
>She stops as she’s half on out of the bed, tangled up in her blanket.
>”But what?”
“It was dark, but there was something in the water. Something big.”
>As she rushes to get on her hooves, she falls onto the ground, completely tied up in her sheet.
>”Well did you sound the alarm?”
“It’s already passed; I seriously doubt that we’ll get attacked while not in the fog.”
>”I don’t care what you think; get the men to their stations.”
>As she is clearly struggling getting upright, you offer your hand down to her.
>She uses it to stabilize herself and get standing.
>Once she does, she balls up her sheet and tosses it onto the bed.
“Tiara, look.”
>You point out the window to the west.
“Moon’s almost down. Let the crew get a few more minutes of rest. Because this is the last time we know they’ll be able TO rest.”
>”… Fine, we’ll do it your way. For now.”

“You know Tiara, you sleep like a puppy.”
>She seems completely taken aback by the statement and change of topic.
>”What?”
“On your back, legs tucked in but still in the air a bit. I was actually half expecting you to start running in your sleep from a dream.”
>You feel a blunt force as she kicks you in the shin.
“Ahh.”
>”Get out!”
>You start making for the door.
“Yeah, yeah, no need to yell to mom that I’m in your room again.”
>”Get. Out.”
“You know Tiara, you say ‘get out’ a lot.”
>”And you start sentences with ‘you know Tiara’ more frequently.”
“Really, I hadn’t noticed.”
>”Keep walking.”
“Again with the hostility, are you like this to all of your crew?”
>”No, only you.”
“Well: do svidaniya, dorogoy.”
>”What?”
>Giving no translation, you leave the room and close the door behind you.
>Outside it has gotten darker, as dawn is fast approaching.
>Another day at sea, waiting for some eastern phenomena to attack you.
>But first things first, you need a shirt and your boots.
>…
>A sharp whistle blares in your ear.
>”RISE AND SHINE MAJOR!”
>Having flashbacks to boot camp, you promptly spring out of your bed and get on your hooves to salute.
>Brigadier Offense is standing in front of you.
>And wearing armor.
>Plate around his torso and chain mail draping his upper legs leading into armored greaves around his hooves, unpainted steel with no indication of rank.
>There are holes in the plate for his wings, and the shape of the armor is designed to not impede a pegasus’s flying abilities, added weight notwithstanding.
>Additionally, he is foregoing the use of a helmet.
 >”Haha, at ease.”
“Sir, is this another test?”

>”Unfortunately not.”
“Then what is it?”
>”Last night a pair of young love birds were in the valley below, they were attacked by a chimera. Thankfully they were both pegasi, so they could fly away quickly.”
“A chimera this close to the capitol?”
>”I know, one hasn’t been seen in these parts for over seven centuries.”
“And what does this have to do with you or me specifically?”
>”I could just send in the troops, but that’s boring and we would miss a perfect opportunity to bond. Get your gear ready, we’re going hunting.”
>You figured he’d say something like that.
>”I’ll give you an hour to get ready, find me in the gardens when you’re done.”
“Yes Sir.”
>”Show some enthusiasm!”
“SIR, YES SIR!”
>”That’s more like it.”
>As he takes his leave, you start rushing through the morning routine.
>…
>With your personal equipment on, you stood in the armory.
>Your armor is a trimmed down version of plate mail on your torso, and you forgo any other armor.
>Generally you prefer to be lighter on your feet and in the air, and you don’t think you’ll change that for today.
>Strapped to your left side was your standard issued short sword, the same as they give to all pegasi.
>But right now, you’re deciding on another weapon to bring.
>A bow?
>No, you’ve never been that good of a shot.
>A mace?
>Too bulky and slow.
>You’ve never fought a chimera before; the closest thing you would have fought would be a yak.
>Against those enemies you would want a piercing weapon, because slashing isn’t that effective against their thick hides.
>A javelin might work well; you could use it from range or as a spear.
>Walking over to a rack of them, you pick out one you like.
>Looks relatively new.
>You take it with your right hoof and lean it back over your shoulder.

>But before you go, you also grab a dagger and attach it’s sheathe to be adjacent to your sword.
>With its strap firmly into place, you make your way out to the gardens.
>Wait.
>You remember something that could help…
>One last stop to make.
>…
>“What took you so long.”
>You approach Offense as he is standing on a balcony in the gardens overlooking the valley below Caanterlot.
“Sorry Sir.”
>”Doesn’t matter, you’re here now. Hmm… Lightly armored, fair choice. But what are you expecting to do with that little poker?”
>Offense is referring to your javelin as he hefts a large bardiche onto his own shoulder.
“No offense, but I don’t have any particular experience fighting large beasts.”
>”That better not be a pun.”
>What?
>Oh, ‘no offense’ to Offense.
“Uhh, no Sir.”
>”Come on; put a smile onto that face. Not every day that Thunder and Lightning get to go keep Equestria safe from nasty critters.”
>Lightning being his first name.
 >”Well don’t just stand there.”
>He jumps over the guard rail.
>As you approach and look down, you see him falling to the ground below.
>Falling, not flying.
>He doesn’t spread his wings until he had gotten half way down.
>Stretching out your own wings, you took flight and went into a nose dive to catch up with him.
>Because of his heavy load, you quickly catch up.
“Where to Sir?”
>”See that big oak?”
>The valley is lightly forested, but one tree stand about thirty feet higher than those around it.
>You’re maybe a mile away from it.
“Yeah.”
>”The couple said they were at the pond next to it when they were attacked.”

>…
>You reach up and scratch at your scruff.
>It’s been a month or so since you shaved, and the sooner your beard is back, the better.
>You miss it considerably.
>But for now, you continued as you were on the main deck.
>Resting your left hand on your sword’s pommel, you paced over to the starboard side.
>It’s been over six hours, and there is no sign of any change.
>Just open waters and an undisturbed voyage.
>You’ve seen the beasts that stalk the landmasses on this world, but you have no idea what monstrosities could be lurking under the waters.
>Part of you is wondering when you’ll have the choice between Scylla and Charybdis
>You whisper under your breath as you look out over the waters.
“Hey Discord, you there?”
>Nothing but the ever present sea breeze.
>Figures.
>You’re ONLY fighting his battles for him.
>Why would he bother assisting in getting you to said battle?
>Though he did help you on the island…
>He seems so random with how he lends assistance.
>Though given who he is, you’re not sure what you should have expected.
>However, you’re not sure what’s worse: That he has all of this planned out and structured in his head, or it’s entirely arbitrary.
>Right now you’d say it’s pretty fifty-fifty.
>And while he’s doing whatever his demented mind deems worthwhile, you’re stuck here going stir crazy from being cooped up on a ship that could be stopped and attacked at a moment’s notice.

>…
>You and Offense land on the bank of the pond.
>Each of you remains silent as you scan the area.
>The water seems calm; it’s a small pond, maybe twenty feet in diameter.
>The banks are littered with pebbles; many look flat enough to skip.
>The grass around the pond is relatively short for a landscape that has never been mowed.
>but you can make out several areas where the ground has been torn up, like a large animal dragged it’s claws through it.
>In addition to the larger oak tree, many oaks line the pond.
>On each of them you can see several areas where couples have etched in their initials inside of hearts.
>And a couple of them have large X’s through them when fate didn’t favor said pairing.
>You’d guess that the spot is frequented rather often by ponies from Canterlot.
>It is rather serene, and it lacks the hectic sound of the city that are ever present in parks inside the walls.
>All it takes is one wandering animal, and this retreat- a place of love and sometimes loss, is turned into a violent struggle for your life.
>Looking a bit away from the pond itself, you see a darker mass on the ground.
>As you walk over to in inspect it, you see that it is what remains of a rabbit.
>Or a squirrel.
>It’s hard to tell, only a bit of scraggily brown fur is left with a bit of blood and a couple organs.
>”Find anything?”
“Just the remains of a dead animal, there’s not much left.”
>Turning, you see Offense by the large oak tree.
>He has removed his front let hoof guard, and is-
“Is that?”
>He reaches down and grabs a bit of the dark brown-
>”Dung.”
>And then Offense brings it close to his nose, and you see his nostrils move a he inhales.
“So you pick it up and smell it!”
>”To tell how fresh it is. And to answer that question, very.”
“I really don’t want to know, but how can you tell?”
>”The smell, also it’s still a bit warm.”

>He flicks his hoof to get the majority of it off of him.
>He then proceeds to wipe the bottom of his hoof against the grass.
>As he then put’s his armor back on his hoof, he speaks to you.
>”We’re in luck. I don’t think it could have got more than an hour away.”
“And that’s if it isn’t skulking around here.”
>”No, look at the wildlife.”
>You glance around for critters.
>Birds are chirping in the branches.
>A squirrel is chasing another up a tree.
>And a pair of rabbits are drinking from the pond.
>”I’ve been on a few manticore culls with Anon; you pick up a few things. Also there was this cockatrice hunt outside Las Pegasus, now that’s a story you need to hear some time.”
“Right, they’d run away if a predator was near.”
>”Unless the predator was stalking them, in which case-“
“I get the idea.”
>You glance around in case fate was being tempted.
>You hear Offense chuckle.
>”I didn’t take you to be superstitious.”
“I’m not, we’re in the woods with an extremely aggressive beast, and you just said it couldn’t be that far away.”
>”Fair enough.”
>As you look back to Offense, you see him taking a swig out of a flask.
>”Want some?”
“I’m not sure that’s wise.”
>”What could possibly go wrong!”
“You’re doing this on purpose.”
>He caps his flask and tucks it into his armor, it looks like it rests between his chest and the plate over it.
>”Well if a certain beastie would jump out of the trees now and attack, it would save us the search.”
>He puts his hooves up around his mouth and shouts into the woods.
>”Besides, I’m three days from retirement!”
>He then walks over to you and whispers.
>”I’m not actually retiring, don’t get any ideas.”
>You just stare at him incredulously.
>”Come on Thunder, lighten up a bit!”

>He pats your shoulder.
>”Learn to enjoy yourself a bit. Just because we’re soldiers it doesn’t mean we have to have a stick up our asses. Even Brairheart and Wave have their moments, you should too.”
>Before you can say anything, Offense looks around.
>”Damn, I was hoping that would work. Sometimes you just get lucky and world takes its cue. Well come on, we’ve got to track this thing down.”
>Offense begins walking.
“Any idea what way it went?”
>”I didn’t see any distinct tracks, so no.”
“So you intend us to wander into it?”
>”Pick a number one through twelve.”
>What?
“Uhh, ten.”
>”Ten o’clock it is.”
>Offense turns to face that direction and takes a few steps.
>Then he readies his wings and starts flying.
>You stretch your own wings out and follow.
>The trees are just dense enough that you wouldn’t be able to get a good view from above the tree line.
>But they are sparse enough that you can fly under the tree line at a decent pace.
>”Slow down, you’ll just tire yourself out.”
>You match Offense’s pace, which is barely quicker than walking.
>”And remember, we’ve got the advantage. The chimera is stuck on the ground; we don’t have to play by those rules.”
“You don’t say.”
>”What was that Major?”
“Nothing, I was just thanking you for pointing out something that I’ve been able to do for longer than I can remember.”
>”There might be hope for you yet.”

>…
“It’s here.”
>You say in your best Poltergeist impersonation.
>It’s been almost twelve hours since the fog rolled in last night.
>But now in the late afternoon: the waves have stopped, the wind died down, and the fog sets in.
>All of it with almost no prior indication.
>But soon the sky turns dark grey, and visibility is reduced once again.
>Just before the ship reaches a dead stop, you notice Tiara storming out of her cabin and marching to the upper deck.
>From the wheel you hear Commander Port yell in his booming baritone.
>”Crew at the ready! Guns?”
>You hear a few shouts below deck as the order is relayed.
>An earth pony steps out onto the main deck from below to respond.
>”Port side ready, starboard side ready!”
>You then hear Tiara’s voice take over as she sets into command of the ship.
>”HOLD!”
>”Holding!”
>You rest your left hand on the pommel of your sword, and behind walking up the steps to the upper deck.
>Still at the wheel, you hear Port speak to the crew:
>”All eyes on the fog, report anything: no matter how small!”
>As you approach, you see Tiara speak to Port.
>”I’d say ‘steady as she goes’ but…”
>Port releases the wheel, as the ship isn’t moving.
“And now we wait.”
>Commander Port seems oddly talkative:
>”However would it be luck or misfortune if we have an encounter?”
>Tiara replies:
>”Either way, I want each of you ready for anything. Take the port side, and Anon will watch the starboard.”
>”Understood Ma’am.”
>Port nods as he goes to watch the port side of the ship.
>You begin waxing lyrical as you walk over to watch the waters to the starboard side of the ship
“Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there, wondering, fearing, doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before.”

>…
>”… And that was my role in the Second Coast War.”
“Quite the campaign, Sir.”
>”It was a good war; I’m still a bit upset we’re not down there fighting right now.”
“Doesn’t the fighting have to stop eventually?”
>”If they actually pushed themselves, the Saddle Arabians and griffons each have five or so years left in them. The yaks I’d give four, and the minotaurs a decade.”
“What about the dogs?”
>”Non-countries don’t count.”
“You don’t think highly of them as fighters, do you?”
>”They’re like the zebras, but lack numbers.”
“And what are your opinions of zebra soldiers?”
>”There are no zebra soldiers, they make decent skirmishers and light infantry, but lack the discipline to be considered true soldiers. Warriors, sure, but not soldiers.”
>You continue flying through the woods, a half hour or so ago; you shifted the path to head south.
>”A shame the coalition couldn’t have linked up their forces. Now THAT would have been a battle, the member species could have filled out combat roles with their individual strengths. Not like the one sided nonsense we get in every single battle in every single war.”
“Sir, you’re rambling.”
>”What? Oh, sorry. Hmm. Hold up, Thunder.”
>You slow down with your wings and land on the ground.
>Offense lands next to you.
>”Look.”
>He raises a hoof to the sun, which looks like it will be setting in a few hours.
“It’s getting late.”
>”And I’d rather not be in the woods with a chimera at night. Come on, we’ll head back and bring a few squads to scout for us tomorrow.”
>Wait…
“Uhh, sir…”
>”What?”
“Listen.”
>It’s completely silent.
>Aside from the sound of breaking wood from somewhere behind you.
>”UP UP UP!”

>You begin flapping your wings, seeing Offense do the same.
>Before you take off, you hear the growls.
>Three distinct sounds of varying pitch.
>The deep and foreboding big cat.
>The shifting staccato of the goat.
>And the soft yet high hiss of the snake.
>Then you barrel through the canopy of the tree line, and stabilize in the air far above the ground.
>Offense is slightly slower than you, but he soon reaches your level.
>”She was in the brush right behind you.”
“How do you know it was a she?”
>”Because of the pretty pink bows on each of the heads.”
“Really?”
>”No, you dolt, because of the shape of the tigresses head.”
>Offense hefts his bardiche, grabbing at it with both hooves.
>”Let’s go kill it.”
>...
>It’s been hours.
>”Still nothing?”
>You hear Tiara call out.
“Nothing.”
>”Nothing.”
>Port replies, as do dozens of other watchers.
>Soon the sun will be lowered, and that doesn’t bode well.
>Tiara’s voice pierces the air as she yells:
>”I’m missing a report! Three-Leg, what can you see from the crow’s nest?”
>There isn’t a reply from the crow’s nest, which is completely out of visibility from the fog.
>”Three-Leg!… CREWMAN!”
>She points to a nearby pegasi and barks orders:
>”Get up there and get his attention. If that pegasus is drunk again, he’s spending the rest of the voyage in the brig.”
>Before the crewman can take flight to check, the wind and waves return.
>As the fog starts to lift, you can see up to the crow’s nest.
>The empty crow’s nest.
>”Belay that order; I want a full head count, NOW!”

>…
>Following a short tactical discussion with Offense, you broke through the tree line.
>Under the branches, you started scanning to find the chimera.
>Hovering about ten feet above the ground, you can’t see anything.
>Just trees and brush.
>Listening to the surroundings, you only notice the sound of wind and your wings.
>It’s here somewhere.
>Waiting.
>Watching.
“Come on out kitty-goat.”
>You bring yourself down to the ground.
>As you feel your hooves hit the grass, you keep your wings slightly out from your body.
>Need to be ready to get back in the air at a moment’s notice.
“Here kitty kitty snake goat thing.”
>You let out a high pitched whistle.
“What’s the problem, not hungry girl?”
>You turn to face directly behind you.
>Nothing.
“I know you’re still here.”
>You reaffirm your grip on the javelin in your hoof.
“What do you want, a silver platter?”
>It was in that moment you heard the snarls return.
>All three of them.
>Turning to the left to face it, you see the chimera’s outline in the woods.
>Each of the three faces are staring you down.
>The tigress and goat heads are completely still, but the tail/snake’s head is bobbing in a small clockwise circle.
>Who’s going to make the first move?
>You just had to think about that.
>Incidentally, she decided to make the first move.
>The tigress let out a roar as the beast begins charging towards you.
>And you hold steady.
>flapping your wings, you take yourself slightly off of the ground, positioning yourself to get the most power from a throw.
>Bringing back your javelin, you chuck it at the charging creature.
>And watch as it sails through the air…

>But your heart soon sinks.
>Just as the spear would have driven into the creature’s back, the snake head swings to deflect it.
>And the javelin lands into the grass.
>Leaving the chimera still barreling towards you.
>Reaching across your chest, you draw your sword with your right hoof and grab your dagger in a reverse grip with your left hoof.
>Hovering just off of the ground you prepare yourself.
>Watching the beast trample through bushes, you begin speaking under your breath slightly.
“Come on, just a bit further.”
>Each of its heads roars simultaneously, flooding the air with a menagerie of sounds.
“Alright Offense, right about now… Offense…”
>It’s about to hit you.
>You then audibly yell:
“Damnit Offense!”
>There is only a split second as the chimera reaches striking distance.
>For a moment your life flashed before your eyes.
>By the time you reached basic training, your soldier’s instinct kicked in.
>Reaching out ahead of the other heads, the snake was pressing forward, jaw open and ready to clench around your neck.
>It was maybe five feet away from you, tilted to the side.
>Fangs glistening.
>Flapping your wings, you push to your left.
>As you move, you feel your mane being brushed by the chimera’s tail.
>You dove out of the way to the animal’s right side.
>Straight into the jaw of the tiger.
>You strike out at it with your sword.
>However, you don’t have time to straighten the blade, and end up striking her on the side of her face with the long end of your sword.
>As the beast rushes past you, you bring your dagger into the chimera’s upper thigh.
>The tiger’s head roars out in pain, and you see the creature come to a stop about twenty feet from you.

>The snake reaches down to the pommel of your dagger and pulls it out of its side.
>You see the blade drip with blood as it gets tossed into the grass.
>And now you watch as the she paws at the ground, preparing for another charge.
>You glance back, and see the javelin.
>Flapping wildly, you begin flying towards the discarded weapon.
>As you take to the sky, you hear the chimera bellow and begin charging through the brush.
>In the air, you sheathe your sword.
>Reaching out your now free right hoof, you grab the javelin as you pass it.
>As you spin it around the right way, you glance over your shoulder, looking to the chimera.
>You’ve kept it at a distance of about thirty feet.
>”Thunder, now!”
>You hear Offense yell at you from above the tree line.
>It’s about damn time.
>You slow your airspeed, and land.
>Turning to face the beast, you grab at the javelin with both hooves.
>Then rear back and brace for the impending impact.
>And each head of the monster screeches out, jaws open and ready to tear at you.

>The chimera charges towards you, however its pace slows slightly.
>You watch as the tigress head looks down and to the right, its eyes closing.
>The creature’s front right leg then goes limp as the creature begins tumbling forward.
>It’s momentum swings the tail forward as the entire beast crashes over its front heads and onto its back.
>However the snake’s head is still level and in striking distance.
>The remaining reptilian head seems confused, looking to its body.
>Feeling no response from the rest of the chimera’s body, the snake coils back and launches towards you.
>As you brace to impale it as it strikes, you hear the tree branches rustling overhead.
>Offense is flying down towards the belly-up beast.
>And as he brings his bardiche down, the snake’s strike immediately falls short.
>You see what looks to be surprise in its eyes as it falls to the ground, just short of you.
>It squirms once or twice, but soon goes still.
>As you follow the snake tail down towards the rest of the beast, you see that very near the start of the chimera’s tail, Offense’s great axe is stuck in the ground.
>He severed the tail in a single blow.
>”Quite the tumble it took, eh?”
>Before leaving you went to find Call.
>He still had the poison that knocked you out during the fake coup attempt.
>So he gave it to you, and while planning the attack with Offense, you laced your dagger with it.

“It didn’t work on the snake. Maybe it affects reptiles differently?”
>”Thankfully steel works just fine.”
“About that… what took you so long!”
>”I had to get my distance, we were downwind of it, and I didn’t want to give any hints that you were just the bait.”
“Uh huh.”
>”Besides, I wanted to see if you could hold your own against her.”
>Offense reaches down and takes his bloodied weapon out of the ground, revealing the bleeding stump where the snake connected to the rest of the chimera.
>”Do you want the kill?”
>You shake your head.
>”Have it your way.”
>Offense flaps his wings and gets into a position over the unconscious chimera’s body.
>Hovering just above its upper chest, he brings his weapon down parallel to its ribcage.
>You hear the cracking of bone and the sound of steel impacting flesh.
>Accompanied by  the sight of blood splattering from the wound.
>Offense leaves the bardiche in the body as the lowers himself slightly.
>After kicking the chimera twice, he hefts out his weapon.
>”She’s dead.”
“Well, that was… “
>You stop yourself as you hear something strange.
“Is that clapping?”
>”Sounds like-“

>Offense is cutoff by a familiar voice.
>”Bravo, bravo.”
>The sound then takes direction, as you see Discord pop into existence a few paces away from you.
>”That was well worth the trouble. I mean the look on the couple’s faces as they ran away. Oh so priceless.”
>He teleports into the air next to Offense, reaching his arm around the general’s shoulder.
>”You took your time tracking her down, but good show.”
>Discord disappears once again, and you feel his arm over your shoulder.
>”And you. Clever boy.”
>You shoulder Discord and he over exaggerates stumbling away from you.
“You released a chimera into the outskirts of Canterlot for entertainment!”
>”It wounds me that you would even ask that question: of COURSE I would release a chimera into the outskirts of Canterlot for entertainment.”
>Offense then speaks:
>”Oh for the love of-“
>”Ah, ah, ah. Let me stop you there. Yes yes: ‘there’s a line that you’re not supposed to cross’ and all of that, I know. I wouldn’t have let her hurt anypony… much.”
>”You son of a-“
>”Ta-ta.”
>Discord snaps his fingers and disappears.
>”You know Thunder, I’ve generally not been as critical of his… antics as the others have. But right about now, I’m seeing Anon’s point of view.”
“Doesn’t Discord have anything better to do?”
>”Apparently not. The strange thing is that he did this without Anon present. He’s never bothered with any of the others unless it was just collateral with what he put Anon through.”
“So you think there was some meaning to all of this?”
>”Or he’s just spreading out his chaos more liberally.”
“I’m not sure which is worse.”
>Offense wipes his weapon’s blade against the fur of the chimera’s corpse.
>As he wipes it clean, he soon turns his head to face you.
>”Come on, it’s getting late and I’m sure the others will want to hear this report.”

>…
>”The final head count is in.”
>Commander Port begins.
>”In addition to Three-Leg, the ship’s doctor, and four other crewmen are missing. All of their personal effects are untouched, and nopony was witness to the disappearances.”
>Before Lady Tiara can respond, a pegasi flies down from the crow’s nest.
>”Ma’am, this is all that was left up there.”
>He outstretches a metal flask.
>Tiara takes it from him and replies.
>”Three-Leg’s flask. If that tells us one thing, it’s that he didn’t leave voluntarily. Back to your post.”
>The pegasi nods before heading back to the deck.
“Let me see that.”
>You take the flask from Tiara.
>It’s old and weathered; a crude ‘3’ is etched into the side.
>Unscrewing the lid, you take a whiff-
>Whoa, strong stuff.
>You slide the flask into your pocket.
>No need for it to go to waste.
>Port continues speaking:
>”We’ve lost six members of the crew, and five of them were below deck when they disappeared.”
“Does anything connect the missing ponies? Species, class, blood type, anything about their background?”
>”The only thing they all had in common was that they were members of the navy and crew of this ship.”
“I’ll take your word for it.”
>”Why six?”
>Tiara asks.
“Six days to create the earth, and there’s also six six six. If you want I could start chanting in Latin next time the fog rolls in.”
>”What?”
>Port then speaks:
>”Six elements of harmony?”
>”Unless alcoholism or cynicism has replaced one of them, that rules out Three-Leg at least.”
“Alright, let’s see: carbon, honeycombs, guitar strings, beer, touchdowns, revolvers.”
>You receive a confused look from Port and Tiara.
“That’s all I got off the top of my head.”

>…
>Tiara was quite… cross about the entire situation.
>She can really rant when irked.
>But ultimately, there was nothing to do other than continue the course.
>Turning back is out of the question.
>There’s only one way, and that way is forward.
>You did however manage to slip away, and are now sitting at your cot.
>After sliding around a couple of crates, you made a makeshift table.
>And currently, you’re writing an equally as makeshift journal.
>A sort of message in a bottle should things continue as they are.
>So that maybe the next person to fall into this fog can make a different choice.
>Seeing as there has been no record of the fog throughout Equestrian historical or mythical record, it’s unlikely that anyone will ever read it.
>But you suppose that it’s more for your own benefit.
>Anything to get away from how the others are taking the situation.
>Tiara is losing her cool, and Port is barely managing to keep moral steady.
>All of the crew volunteered for the mission, but they aren’t robots.
>They’re all flesh and blood, and it is exceedingly rare to find someone of flesh and blood that stares unwavering into their imminent demise.
>Also, writing is helping you ground yourself.
>You’ve been getting uneasy on the ship; it’s coming out with how you interact with the others.
>The snarky passive aggression and large amount of earth references or colloquialisms is a defense mechanism.
>You’re reverting back to stop yourself from losing your mind.
>It’s actually reminiscent of how you acted when you first arrived in Equestria.
>You shake your head and put away those thoughts, opting to get back to the page you were writing on.
>Dipping your quill into the ink well, you get back to work.

>…
>You wrote for many hours, outlining every detail of your situation, no matter how small.
>By the time you neared completion; your hand ached from writing.
>”Hello Anon.”
>What?
>You glance over to the voice speaking in your left ear.
>A tiny Discord is sitting on your shoulder.
“I don’t remember falling asleep.”
>”That’s because this isn’t a dream.”
“What do you want?”
>You say with an obvious tone that says ‘I’ve had enough of your bull.’
>”All I want is to be a real boy.”
“You invade my dreams almost every time I close my eyes. I do NOT need you playing the devil on my shoulder as well.”
>”I remember that just a few months ago, you were cursing that I wasn’t appearing often enough. A bit of consistency would be appreciated.”
>Reaching your right hand to your left shoulder, you swat Discord off of you.
>He ends up being thrown against the nearest wall.
>Then he teleports over to stand on the paper you’ve been writing on.
>He walks over the sheet, and leans against the inkwell.
>”Why can’t we be friends Anon?”
“Well there’s the whole ripping me away from my dimension thing.”
>”And what true friend hasn’t ruined their friend’s life completely once or twice… or a few dozen times?”
“I’d guess every friend. What you’re describing is closer to Stockholm syndrome.”
>A blank sheet of paper starts levitating in the air, folding itself many different times.
>Within a half minute, it forms a small origami chair which Discord goes to sit in.
>”You see Anon, we’re actually very much alike.”
“I’m nothing like you.”
>”Denial is the first step, Anon.”
“Well how about this, what’s happening to the crew?”
>”One minuite.”
>He gets out of his chair and starts walking over the paper you’ve been writing on.
>”Hmm.”
>Either he reads very fast, or he didn’t read it at all.
>”I haven’t the slightest, Anon. Just like I’ve said before.”

>He saunters back over to his paper chair to sit.
>”Now, I’m bored. How about a card game?”
“No.”
>”You haven’t lived until you’ve played go fish with actual fish.”
“No.”
>”Why are you so dull?”
“Well pardon me for not being entertained by mini me Discord.”
>He stands up in a small flash of light, a cane appears in his hand and a straw boater hat appears on his head.
>”Not even if I did a little jig?
>He begins to do a solo barbershop-esque dance.
>”Get it? ‘Little’ Jig.”
>He stops in place.
>”Not even a grin? Really?”
“No.”
>”Hmm.”
>A small light bulb appears over his head momentarily.
>He then reaches both of his hands behind his back.
>”I know just the thing to turn that frown upside down: pizza and margarita shooters!”
>In his left hand, he pulls out a small pizza box.
>And in the right is an equally as tiny cocktail shaker.
“Nobody has pizza and margaritas!”
>He drops the items and puts both hands to the sides of his face.
>”You went along with the reference!”
“It’s an obscure one, but it does kind of sum up my life.”
>You hear a crewman’s voice:
>”Is somepony talking over here.”
>Discord then speaks to you:
>”Sorry, but I really must be going.”
>You then see an earth pony stick his head around the corner of the crates that makes your ‘quarters’.
>”Oh, were you talking to anypony?”
>You glance down at the table.
>Everything is exactly how you had it before Discord appeared.
>No micro items, and the sheet of paper is back in position; showing no signs of ever being folded at all, let alone being crafted into a chair.
>”I heard your voice, and some pauses, but that was it.”
“Just Discord trying to be clever.”
>”Ah… well, Commander Port would like a word with you. He’s in the medical room.”
“Thank you crewman.”

>The pony was quick to return to his duties, leaving you alone in your ‘room’ aboard the ship.
>Reaching down, you cap the inkwell.
>And then you grab at the papers you were writing on.
>You put them into the correct order, and leave them stacked on the crate that serves as your table.
>Standing from the side of your cot, you grab at your scabbard and attach it to your belt.
>The last time you left your sword on your cot, you ended up stranded on an island.
>And the time before that, you had to fight a pirate vessel while completely unarmed.
>You’d rather there not be a third time.
>So, properly armed, you set off to find Port.
>After a quick walk through the interior of the ship, you arrive at your destination.
>Standing in the doorway, you see Port sitting at the doctor’s desk.
>He’s looking at a manila folder with a solemn look on his face.
>Solemn even for him.
>However he hasn’t noticed you.
>You cough to get his attention.
>He glances up at you.
>”Marshal.”
“Commander.”
>”I’ve been going over the personal effects of the crewmen that disappeared.”
“And what did you find?”
>”Nothing mostly.”
>Sounds like nothing good.
“Define ‘mostly’ for me.”
>You start approaching the desk.
>”It seems that Ship Shape, one of the crew to go missing, came to see the doctor before the most recent fog rolled in.”
“Why?”
>You stop as you reach the desk.
>As Port turns in the chair to fully face you, you fold your arms and shift your weight towards your right leg.

>”The doctor found nothing wrong with him from a medical standpoint. However Ship Shape reported that after the last fog ended, that would be the one previous to the one they went missing, he felt odd.”
“Odd how?”
>”A faint ringing in the ear, and he felt like every hair on his coat was standing up. He described it as, and I quote: ‘it’s like I’ve just been spooked real good, and it ain’t going away.’ Take a look at what the doctor later wrote in the margins around it.”
>He offers you the file.
>The ship’s doctor had written up a short report on his type writer.
>But as you look, you see a hastily written addition onto the side of paper.
>It reads:
>[Funny, I feel the same way]
>”At the bottom of the report, the doctor sums up that he attributes the feeling to nerves. But, it is something that connected the two ponies.”
>Two of six isn’t that that noteworthy.
>But it’s all you have.
>And besides: how many people would go to the doctor just because they have a pair of minor issues?
>You close the folder and hand it back to the Commander.
“And it could be that the others just wrote the feeling off as a headache or even a strange hangover.”
>”But that’s not all…”
>He stops himself, and sounds reluctant to continue.
“Port, what is it?”
>”Since we came out of the last fog, I’ve been feeling remarkably similar to how Ship Shape described his own feeling.”

>And without missing a beat, you feel the ship lurch.
>And following that, you hear shouts from across the ship of:
>’It’s happening again!’
>For the slightest moment, you think you can see a genuine look of fear on Port’s face.
>Fear isn’t quite the right word to use though.
>Dread?
>Either way, he was quick to return to his stoic look.
>As the ship begins coming to a halt, you begin thinking out loud.
“Alright, most of the ponies that were taken were inside the ship when it happened.”
>”Right.”
“So that means they weren’t just plucked off by some creature. It had to be magical in nature.”
>”Makes sense.”
“And if no crewman disappeared while in line of sight of someone that remained aboard…”
>”Unless the fog took everypony that could see the targets.”
“You’re not helping. But even if that’s right, I’d still be immune it, just like every other kind of magic. If we make the rounds and gather up any pony that is feeling the symptoms and keep them all in sight, it might stop them from being taken.”
>”I feel that it’s my duty to point out, that your idea only works if several different preconceptions about the situation are true.”
“Well do you have any better ideas?”
>Port remains silent.
>He seems slightly uncertain; his eyes look like they’re weighting the options.
>”We should find everypony else displaying the symptoms, and quickly. We don’t know how long this one will last for.”
“Lead the way.”

>…
>Thirty-six.
>Including Port, thirty-six crewmen display the symptoms.
>You have no idea if this theory will hold weight, but right now it’s all you’ve got.
>Tiara decided to go along with your idea.
>However, being the gallant captain that she is, she has elected to stay at the wheel herself for this fog.
>There are over two hundred ponies aboard, and even though three dozen are being quarantined and another dozen watching them with you, the rest of the crew are standing ready for combat.
>Each of the thirty-eight guns are still being manned.
>But you have been helping to push crates around on the lowest deck.
>You need more of an open space to hold the thirty-six, and you don’t think it’s wise to have them directly exposed to the fog.
>So their quarantine space is nearby your own cot.
>Port actually explained the ship’s structure to you.
>You are on the lowest deck- the Orlop deck, under the water level and above some of the holds.
>Mostly it’s storage; you’re actually the only occupant.
>Above you is the Berth deck, where the crew’s cots an hammocks are.
>Above that is the Gun deck, and the one open to the air is the Main deck.
>The raised bit to the stern over the captain’s cabin is the Poop Deck.
>Funny, you never actually knew that the poop deck was where the wheel was.
>It took a couple hours, but together you all managed to clear an open enough space so that everyone has clear lines of sight on the others.
>It’s a real gamble hoping that they won’t disappear if in sight.
>And now they don’t have any work to focus on.
>Pushing around crates isn’t that intellectual stimulating, but it helped keep minds at ease.
>Thirty-six ponies all fearing for their lives.
>And the twelve that are watching them are on edge as well.

>Some of the thirty-six were playing cards, others were writing final letters to their families.
>On the far side of the ‘room’ you could see a pair of twins.
>One of them has the symptoms and the other doesn’t.
>That’s rough.
>An earth pony in the center of the room was doing pushups, probably trying to avoid thinking about his situation.
>A unicorn was sitting alone in front of a chess board, levitating the rook and twirling it in place, watching as it spins.
>And you were there, in the corner.
>Watching thirty-six souls contemplate their demise.
>You don’t know these ponies as well as you should.
>They volunteered to take you into the unknown, and you only know a handful of them by name.
>”If it’s linked to us, this fog could last quite some time.”
>You look to Port as he approaches.
>”How long can you stay awake for?”
“I’ve gone over four days before. A hundred and seven or eight hours, can’t remember.”
>You stand up from the crate you’re sitting on.
“Hold on a second.”
>You pry open the lid.
>If you’re right, this should be.
>Bingo.
>You reach in and pull out a bottle of vodka.
>You may have raided this box before…
>Screwing open the lid, you take a gulp of it.
>A lighter proof than you’d prefer, but it’ll do.
>You then offer the bottle to Port.
>”I don’t drink.”
>You spin the lid back on the bottle and set it atop the crate as you return to sitting on it.
“So Port, back when we told Lady Tiara that you were feeling… under the weather, I could help but notice she sounded a bit scared.”
>”It’s not what you think.”
“Then what is it?”
>”She’s the best friend of my wife, and pretty much the aunt of our daughter.”
“God Port, I didn’t even know you were married.”
>”Five years.”
“That mean’s your kid’s still young. Don’t you want to, I don’t know, write your family a letter like some of the others are doing?”

>”I wrote those letters when I volunteered for this assignment and left them at the dock.”
>He hushes his voice before continuing.
>”And we both know that none of these letters will ever make it back to Equestria.”
“It’s not so the letter can reach them, it’s for the thought of your loved ones. So that in your darkest hour you can look to that which you hold dearest, and remember why you’re fighting. To remember why you can’t fail.”
>”Spoken like one who has written many letters.”
>You chuckle slightly.
“I have… something of an adopted girl. From the age of two to twenty, whenever I knew I would go into battle, the night before I would write to her in a journal.  I never sent them to her, and over the years I filled that journal and four others. So that if I ended up dead in some pile of rubble, somebody could find those journals back in camp and deliver them… I still have them somewhere, packed away safely.”
>”What made you stop writing in them?”
>You reach over and grab the bottle of vodka.
“She got old enough to properly understand what my job entailed… and after almost two decades of writing, I said everything that could have been said.”
>Unspinning the cap, you take another gulp.
“To letters.”
>You hold the bottle as if to toast to Port.
>And you are surprised when he takes it from you.
>”To family.”
>He takes a modest swig and coughs as it goes down his throat.
>You take back the bottle as he gives to you.
“We’ll make a sailor out of you yet.”
>”Very funny.”
>He replies with a raspy croak.

>…
>”If what you said is true-“
>Brairheart is cutoff before he can continue.
>”It is ya damn fool. What do you think, that me and Thunder wandered around the woods all day thinking of an absurd situation to report back?”
>Wave then quips:
>”Thunder and I.”
>”What are you saying?”
>”Thunder and I, it’s Thunder and I.”
>”I tell you that Discord is releasing monsters on the outskirts of Canterlot, and you decide to correct grammar!”
>”It’s Discord. There’s nothing we can do.”
>”You know Wave, I never took you to be the quitter in this room.”
>”It’s like declaring war on the ocean. What would you do? Swing at the waves?”
>”There’s one Wave I’d like to take a swing at right about now.”
>Brairheart stands from the meeting table.
>”If you two would excuse me, I have night tests to run with the airship.”
>He makes for the door but stops and turns a back before leaving.
>”And please try not to kill each other… or at least get a room.”
>”Shut up navy boy!”
>Offense yells as Brairheart leaves.
“Wave does have a point.”
>”Oh don’t you take his side too.”
“I’m not; it’s just that it’s Discord. What CAN we do?”
>”I- well- we could… Ugggh.”
>Offense slams his hoof against the table.
>”I don’t know!”
>”Some battles can’t be won, Lighting.”
>”But they still need to be fought, Red.”
>For all of their bickering, they are close friends.
>They being all of them, not just the two here.
“Once Anon is successful, I’m sure that Princess Flurry or one of the other alicorns will be able to deal with Discord.”
>Offense looks over to you.
>”Yeah, It’s what he can do in the meantime that I’m worried about.”

>…
>You’ve been here, wherever here is, wandering for who knows how long.
>Weeks?
>Months?
>Years?
>You never tire, never hunger, and never thirst.
>You don’t think you’re dead.
>But you’re just here.
>In the void.
>This white abyss.
>It’s so empty.
>So lonely.
>But you have to keep going.
>You remember something back when you were very young, and you asked your Uncle about your dad.
>One of the last things he said in the conversation stood with you all these years.
>Never lose hope; as long as you can hold on to the smallest sliver of hope, you still have a chance.
>There will be a light at the end of this tunnel.
>Figuratively speaking of course.
>There HAS to be.
>Wait.
>What is that?
>You stop and squint your eyes at the dot in the distance.
>For a while you think that your eyes are playing tricks on you.
>But no, there it is!
>It’s small, like somepony dropped the smallest ink spot on a sheet of paper.
>After so much time, now there’s something in sight.
>You begin galloping towards the speck.
>No matter what it is, it has to be better than this.
>You really hope you don’t regret that thought…

>…
“…And it’s time for us to leave her. Leave her Johnny leave her, oh leave her Johnny Leave her. Oh the voyage is done and the winds don’t blow, and it’s time for us to leave her.”
>You and the others finish the song in and a round of cheers goes around.
>In the interest of keeping moral relatively high, you had started leading the room in some of the shanties you had taught them.
>And you handed out quite a bit of alcohol.
>Most of the dozen that don’t display the symptoms are going sober though.
>As the talk dies down, you attempt to get attention back.
“Alright! Alright ponies, this next one I think a couple of you should know.”
>You clear your throat.
>Then take another swig from the bottle you have.
>And clear your throat again.
“A British tar is a soaring soul, as free as a mountain bird, his energetic fist should be ready to resist a dictatorial word.”
>You glance over and point at the Commander.
“Sing Port, sing!”
>Back to the song:
“His nose should pant and his lip should curl, his cheeks should flame and his brow should furl, his bosom should heave and his heart should glow, and his fist be ever ready for a knockdown blow.”
>As the crew that know the song sings the repeat of it, you notice Port awkwardly trying to keep up.
>A beat or two behind the rest, but what can you do?
>His deep voice did stick out with the ‘knockdown blow’.
“His eyes should flash with an inborn fire, his brow with scorn be wrung; he never should bow down to a domineering frown, or the tang of a tyrant tongue.”
>You grab a quick breath.
“His foot should stamp and his throat should growl, his hair should twirl and his face should scowl, his eyes should flash and his breast protrude, and this should be his customary attitude.”
>This repeat Port is closer to the others.
>”… And this should be his customary attitude.”
>You start back up with the others for the end.
“His at-tit-ude, his at-tit-ude, his aaat-tiiiiiiititud!”

>God how did you hit that high of a note?
>The room is filled with laughter and the sound of glasses being clinked together.
>It’s pretty bad for you to think this way, but right now you actually feel at home.
>It’s not like you’re a passenger on a ship indefinitely.
>You’re just another soldier waiting for the battle.
>You have no idea what you’re even fighting, much les how to beat it, but situations like this are where you’re the most comfortable.
>You take another swig of vodka.
“Hey! I’ve got another. You don’t know it, just repeat when I motion for it.”
>You hiccup once.
>Good, the more drunk you are, the better this one goes.
>And you’ve done it perfectly when completely wasted.
“I am the very model of a modern major general, I’ve information vegetable, animal, and mineral…”
>…
>Just.
>A bit.
>Further.
>Huh?
>It’s just a speck.
>A little black sphere in front of you.
>You step to the side and start circling around it.
“What does it mean!”
>You yell into the void.
>And get no response but the strange echo.
>You sigh and look closer at it.
>A small black orb, maybe half an inch in diameter.
>You stretch out your hoof to touch it.
>After all, what do you have to lose?
“What in the name of!”
>You hear your voice echo as you look around the room.
>And it actually echoes against the high ceiling instead of bouncing around the void.
>In fact, the void is gone.
>You’re…
>In the throne room in the Crystal Empire?
>But where is everypony?
“Hello?”

>…
>Well, it’s official.
>You’ve searched the entire spire, bottom to top.
>Not a single living thing.
>Nothing at all, not even mice.
>Now you had reached the very top of the tower, and could look to the city below.
>No movement whatsoever.
“HELLO!”
>The call echoes.
>And nothing changes in the ghost town below.
>Well, ghost city.
>Looking up, you see the sun high in the sky.
>It looks like it’s around noon.
>You close your eyes for a moment and bring your right hoof up to rub them.
>Why are you suddenly so tired?
>A large yawn escapes you.
>Right, you’ve been awake (?) for so long.
>It had to catch up to you sometime.
>You begin down the endless stairs of the spire.
>…
>When you reached the floor your room is on, you remembered that you have wings.
“I could have just flown here…”
>You say to nopony in particular.
>After a quick walk down the hallway, you reach your room and open the door.
>And everything is just how you remember it.
>The painted hoof prints of you and your parents from when you were a baby.
>The map of Equestria painted on the ceiling.
>But most importantly, your bed.
>Oh that looks soooo comfortable.
>You walk over and collapse into it, letting yourself sink into the softness.
>Right about now, you could stay laying here forwever.
>Your eyelids slowly start falling.
>Wait!
>You remain motionless.
>Did you just hear something from back in the hall?
>Nah.
>Just…
>Your…
>Another large yawn slips out.
>Imagination…
>Beautiful sleep.

>…
>You have been awake for almost a day now.
>While many of the ponies decided to take shifts watching the room, you sat vigilant the entire night.
>However when the crew from the upper decks dropped by to tell you that the sun was up and providing slight illumination through the fog…
>Well, it becomes quite clear to you:
>It won’t end until the thirty-six ponies have been taken.
>All of these men are dead already…
>Some of them, including Port, have realized that themselves.
>Those were the ones to stay awake as well.
>While others rested, that handful sat with thousand yard stares on their faces.
>They’ll be gone and another batch will be chosen.
>Eventually the entire ship will be taken.
>And there’s nothing you can do.
>No.
>You won’t let that happen.
>You slide off of the crate you are sitting on, and start heading for your living space on the deck.
>The guards don’t pay you any mind; many of them have taken breaks and as long as there are some men watching the others, everything should be fine.
>Your cot isn’t that far away, and you soon reach it.
>When there, you begin changing.
>You remove your boots and socks first, and then change into a dirtier pair of pants.
>Next, you remove your sword from your belt, replacing it with a smaller knife that rests on your right side.
>And finally you take off your shirt.
>As you are folding the clothes you removed, a voice catches you off guard.
>”Awfully strange time to be doing laundry, isn’t it?”

>You let out a stressed sigh.
>Without turning to face the voice, you reply.
“How can I help you Discord?”
>”You could not do what I know you’re about to.”
“And why would I?”
>”Because you’ll just get killed, and I still need you alive.”
>You turn to face him; he’s standing a few feet in his normal form.
>And he’s at his normal size, seems he’s given up the mini-him.
“So you do know what’s out there.”
>”No, I don’t. But it doesn’t take a genius to guess the outcome.”
“So little faith in me?”
>”I’m all for insane plans, but this is just suicide Anon.”
>Does he sound?
>No, he can’t.
>Can he?
>Is that legitimate worry in his voice?
>Unsure of how to respond, you quip.
“Well if you don’t approve of it, it must be a good idea.”
>He takes a step towards you, and quickly slaps you across the face.
>In response, you grab at his throat and bring his face close to yours.
“Listen here you disgusting worm. I have put up with your bull for almost twenty-six years, and I am completely done with it. Just because you’re ‘helping’ me right now, doesn’t mean you get a get-out-of-jail free card. The next time you interfere with me, my family, or my friends will be the time you sign your death warrant. Capiche?”
>”You’re not invincible, you know.”
“Nothing’s been able to prove that yet.”
>You push him away as you release his neck.
>Then you turn your back on him and start heading for the stairs.
>As you leave, you can hear Discord say one last thing:
>”You should know, that despite everything, I do consider you a friend, Anon.”
>…
>”Look man this is crazy!”
“I know what I’m doing.”
>You continue tying the end of the rope to one of the masts.
>Should be almost two hundred feet.
>”You have no idea what monsters are out there!”
>”What’s going on here?”
>Tiara strolls to the group of ponies on deck that are watching you and providing commentary.

>”He’s going overboard, Ma’am.”
“Yes, I am crewman. Now where’s that harpoon I asked for ten minutes ago.
>One of the ponies in the crowd gives you a long steel harpoon.
>It’s one built so that the longboats can defend against sharks.
>You set it aside for a moment.
>The rope is firmly attached to the mast, so you start tying the opposite end around your waist.
>As you do, Tiara speaks to you:
>”They’re right, you have no idea what could be out there: monster or not.”
“If it’s not a monster then they’ll die easily enough, you know my record.”
>And if it is a sea monster?”
“Entire timber wolf packs, manticores, chimeras, cockatrices, bugbears, hydras, and dragons; Sea or no, a monster is still a monster. Why must I repeat my record to you?”
>”You’re repeating it for your own benefit.”
“The alternative is waiting for the crew to be picked off group by group.”
>”But it’s clear that nothing I say can stop you, so don’t let me get in the way of you gambling with your life.”
>With the rope firmly around you, you pick up the harpoon.
“Fortune favors the bold.”
>”Again, you’re telling yourself that.”
>You’ve had your fair share of bad ideas, but this…
>You walk over to the starboard side of the ship.
>When a wave would hit it from the fog, it was coming from this way.
>When the dark mass was seen from the fog, it was seen on this side.
>You look down into the still waters below.
>Watching the abyss, you hold for a moment.
>Closing your eyes for a moment, you slowly inhale through your nose.
>You feel the stillness of the ship and hear the hushed whispers among the crew.
>Then you set those aside and open your eyes.
>And then you jump.

>As you splash down, you discover that the water is bone chillingly cold.
>Much too cold for these waters at this time of year.
>However while you are under the water, you cannot see or feel anything nearby.
>Although visibility is low from how the fog obscures the sunlight.
>Turning around in the water, you can make out the hulk that is the ship not too far from you.
>You begin kicking upwards, and soon breech the water.
>From above, you can hear the crew conversing as they look down to you.
>The water’s surface is now broken as you tread water, however you’re the only source of waves in the water.
>Reaffirming your grip on the harpoon, you turn away from the ship and start making your way into the fog.
>Glancing back a few times, you note that it isn’t long before you completely lose sight of the ship.
>The rope tying you to it is your only guide back.
>…
>Your eyes slowly start to open as you wake up.
>Rolling over on your bed, you look to map of Equestria on your ceiling.
>You wonder how far this goes.
>Just the area surrounding Spire?
>All of the Crystal Empire?
>Maybe even the entirety of Equestria?
>Or even the whole world?
>This looks like the Crystal Empire, but it can’t be real.
>It’s a perfect copy of it, but lacks any living creatures whatsoever.
>You think…
>But this can’t possibly be real, you need sleep, but you don’t feel hungry or thirsty.
>And if this isn’t real, then logically it’s a dream or some form of illusion.
>How did you even get here?
>You can remember your life normally up until the most recent…
>It’s hard to pinpoint exactly how much time, but your recent memory is very spotty.

>You can remember most of the events from Appleoosa just fine, but then things get progressively worse.
>While in that town, you received… something.
>Your eyes start making a path on the map above you.
>Then there was the war, and you ended up back in the Crystal Empire, the real one.
>Tracing a mental line, you look to the North East by Manehattan, next was down to Baltimare.
>And then, over to the North West where Cloudsdale was at.
>Then…
>You remember being in the Canterlot Palace, and then there was something else.
>It was cold.
>A hard surface.
>And relatively dark.
>Then you were in the void, and now you’re here.
>In this… fantasy.
>And there was something Anon told you…
>Something important.
>He had to go somewhere, and he needed you to…
“UGH!”
>Why can’t you remember?!
>Maybe some activity will jog your mind.
>Sitting up on your bed, you look to the city outside your window.
>No birds in the sky, and no activity in the streets.
>Standing up, you stretch out you wings and fly towards you balcony.
>Opening up the sliding door, you stepped outside.
>All of the buildings below, so empty.
>What’s even the purpose of this entire farce?
>Looks like today you’ll find out if it really is a ghost town.
>And just maybe, you’ll figure out what’s behind all this.
>So, you started your search.

>…
>Having just left the Palace, you let your friend lead you through the streets of Canterlot.
>As you pass a pair of well-dressed upper-class mares, Call slows sown.
>”Well hello there ladies, name’s Ca-“
>”NOT interested.”
>They continue walking.
“So do you flirt with ANY female that moves, or is it slightly more specific?”
>”Shut up.”
“I’ll assume the former.”
>”It’s a day off; I’m free to do as I like.”
“You stop when it isn’t a day off?”
>”It doesn’t get in the way… usually.”
“Usually.”
>”Gotta be on the game, Canterlot mares are prudes.”
“I’m pretty sure it’s just your accent.”
>”What?”
>You prepare to completely mock his accent.
“Oi luv, fancy a scone and a quick sha-“
>”Wanker.”
“No need, I’m married. You on the other hoof…”
>”I try to have a day out with my mate, and he does nothing but insult me.”
“Somepony’s got to.”
>”You know you still haven’t mentioned if you’ve got any cousins…”
>You don’t reply to the question.
>”Young aunts?”
>Not going to indulge his behavior.
>”Old aunts?”
“For the love of- do you have no shame?”
>He stops walking, perhaps pondering for a second before his attention is drawn elsewhere.
>”We’re here!”
>You look at the building across the street that he’s staring at.
>Canterlot Craft.
“You brought us to a brewery?”
>”This day of the week they do tours, and tours mean free beer.”
“We have free beer back at the Palace.”
>”Ah, it’s not the same.”
“You really are and alcoholic, aren’t you?”
>”Well excuse me for having a more cultured palate than the likes of you.”
“Admitting it is the first step.”
>”Come on then, we’ll be down in Saddle Arabia soon enough and the swill they’ve got down there is terrible. Indulge yourself a bit.”
“Lead the way buddy.”

>…
>You continue making your way through the cold water, ever ready in case something strikes at you from the water.
>But so far, you’ve been completely alone.
>You should soon be-
“Ugh.”
>The rope kills your forward motion and digs into your gut as it tightens.
>End of the line.
>Beginning to tread water in place, you analyze the area.
>It’s hard to explain, but you feel like you need to go further.
>Some primal gut instinct telling you to move ahead.
>Although you can only see the fog.
>But…
>Is that?
>It is.
>The smallest ripple in the water heads your way, the source of it directly ahead.
>You have to go forward if there’s even the slightest chance of stopping this.
>Shifting the harpoon over to your left hand, you reach to draw your knife with your now free right.
>Rotating in the water, you begin awkwardly trying to cut the rope.
>You have to hold both the harpoon and the rope with your left hand, however the harpoon soon slips.
>As it slides from your grasp, you blindly try to reach and grab it before it sinks to the abyss.
>Unfortunately, you grasp at empty water.
>Alright… you have a five inch knife against whatever might be lurking in the waters with you.
>You could turn back.
>Instead you grab at the rope with your left hand to pull it tight once more.
>And then you start sawing your way through it.
>When you get through it, you grab at the end before moving away from it.
>Last chance to turn back.
>But if you do turn back, you’ll just be dead eventually.
>To keep a sense of direction, you hold onto the rope as you sheathe your knife.
>When it is back, you swim to face the direction you were originally pointing.

>And then you let go of your life line.
>You’re alone, in the middle of the ocean with nothing in sight; the water is ice cold and possibly harboring unknown horrors from the abyss.
>And all you have is a knife and audacity.
>Back in college, you certainly didn’t expect this to be your career choice.
>Following your instinct, you continue on into the unknown.
>…
>Well that’s interesting.
>As you walk through the streets of the Empire, you notice an anthill peeking out in a crack in the road’s pavement.
>But no ants.
>There are also spider webs without spiders, wasp nests without wasps, bird nests without birds, dog houses without dogs, and (of course) normal homes without any ponies.
>Each building you’ve been in is fully stocked and equipped, however has no occupants.
>Maybe you should have a séance.
>You nervously look around at the endless empty streets and buildings.
>Maybe that’s not a great idea…
>Looking up, you see the sun still high in the sky.
>It’s been around noon for as long as you’ve been here.
>In the few hours you’ve been wandering, the sun hasn’t moved an inch.
>Also related to the time, you’re assuming that this isn’t a dream.
>You’ve been in it for too long, you should have woken up by now if it was.
>Although you aren’t exactly an expert on the passage of time in dreams…
>But if it’s roughly the same as when you’re awake, either you’re REALLY tired or you’re in some sort of coma/under some sleep spell.
>Either way, this is some sort of illusion inside of your head.

>But why go through all this trouble?
>If somepony or something wanted you out of the way, wouldn’t just be easier to throw you in a cell somewhere?
>But that’s assuming you aren’t in a cell…
>But if you are in a cell, then why give you this fantasy Crystal Empire to explore?
>What if it’s to keep you occupied on wandering around and exploring rather than trying to break out?
>You shake your head at the absurdity of this train of thought.
>It’s just as likely that you’re sick and hallucinating in a hospital.
>Or it’s really just a really weird dream.
>Heh.
>’Really just a really’
>But really, you could just have been trying out dream magic like Luna does, but something went wrong.
>Can you even do dream magic?
>Maybe it’s that question in the real world that landed you here.
>There’s also the quite real possibility that…
>Oh of course it is!
“Alright Discord, very funny! You can come out now!”
>You glance around and notice no change.
“I’m serious!”
>Discord…
>You can remember him coming to meet you and talking about something.
>But what?
>You remember that one of those talks…
>Was at the top of the Spire.
>Maybe going there and focusing on it could jog your memory!
>Preparing yourself for flight, you quickly take off and start heading for the top of the tower.

>…
>You continued swimming through the freezing water for what felt like an hour.
>Currently you’re unsure of how much more of the ice cold water your body can physically take before shutting down.
>You went past the point of no return, and now you have to see it through.
>Fortunately, this might be over sooner than you’d thought.
>As you start to make out a large dark mass on the water and just obscured by the fog, you slow down and try to make as little movement as possible.
>Whatever it is you shouldn’t splash around and draw attention to yourself.
>Keeping all of your body aside from your head under the water level, you slowly start to draw yourself closer to the silhouette.
>The fog makes vision outside of about a hundred feet nonexistent.
>But you soon can make out the rough shape of ‘it’.
>It’s a ship.
>Wait…
>Oh for crying out loud…
>…
>Climbing the wooden outcroppings that form a ladder on this side of the ship, you soon work your way onto the main deck.
“Miss me?”
>You’re on the port side of the Avalon.
>But you left from the starboard, and you were sure you went in a straight perpendicular line away from it.
>You’re met with the crew, who no doubt is wondering why the rope was cut and how you got to the port side of the ship.
>And frankly, you’re not sure if you just ended up getting lost in a big circle, or there was something non-natural that made you come back to the opposite end from where you launched.
>But ultimately, right now you couldn’t care less.
>You just want dry clothes and a warm blanket.
>As you begin attempting to force yourself through the crowd that’s surrounding you, your heart drops and you stop moving.
>Because you feel the wind.
>And as the fog is lifted, waves once again start rocking the ship.
>You immediately start to actively push through the crew as you rush down to check on the others.

>…
>Okay, you’ve been here for quite some time.
>But nothing’s coming back to you.
>Discord was talking to you because he was…
>There was some sort of occasion.
>Something big happened.
>You were in the Empire, and had driven the yaks out.
>But when you and your Uncle went into the throne room…
>There was a fight.
>But with who?
>Anon was injured and taken to the hospital, where he ended up in a coma.
>He was stabbed in his chest near the heart.
>No.
>Not stabbed, impaled.
>By…
>Your mother?
>Why?
>She was acting crazy and had to be stopped.
>You try to focus and glean more details, but are left with the spotty memory.
>Why were you fighting your mother?
>Why did she try to kill Anon?
>Why did she try to kill you!
>You don’t know the answer to those questions, but one phrase pops into your mind
>’Fine, I’ll give you a hint: You’ve got what your dear mommy has.’
>What did Discord mean by that?
>What’s wrong with your mom?
>And what wrong with you?
>You can’t answer that either, but you’d bet that it has something to do with this façade.
>What in the name of all that’s sane is going on here?!

>…
>There were twelve people watching them.
>So and so were sleeping, a couple others were talking to other crew outside of the room, and one was relieving himself.
>And while the one pony that was being attentive turned around for ‘just a moment’ well…
“I’ll reiterate. Because of each and every one of you displaying a level of gross incompetence I haven’t seen for decades, thirty-six good men are dead! If it were up to me I would have each of you discharged immediately without honors. If I leave the so-called best and brightest of the Royal Navy with and order so simple… A toddler could have done a better job than you lot!”
>You reach up and pinch the bridge of your nose.
>At least your blood is flowing rather hot right now after your chilling dip in the ocean.
>You look back to the dozen ponies lined up and at attention in front of you.
“Those men all put their lives in your hooves, and you failed them. Get out of my sight.
>They remain still.
“NOW!”
>They quickly scatter and head for the upper decks, leaving you alone on the lowest.
>Forty-two men in total are gone from this fog now.
>About a fifth of the crew.
>How much longer until they’re all gone?
>Are you even immune from whatever this is?
>You don’t know…
>What you do know is that there’s nothing you can do.
>You’ve tried to fight it, but you can’t find anything to actually fight.
>”Hello Anon.”
>You clench your fist as you hear the voice.
“Discord…”
>But soon release it.
“… I give up.”
>”What?”

“I give up. It means finished. Ceasing and desisting. Abandoning my quest. Dropping like a hot potato. Throwing in the towel. Resigning and relinquishing command. Too exhausted to carry on. It means I’m DONE!”
>”But… what about your mission?”
“Damn the mission.”
>You turn away from him and start heading to your cot.
 >”What about the world?”
“It’s not my world.”
>”You’ve spent more time in this one.”
“Well damn the world.”
>”But your family and friends!”
“They’ll figure something out.”
>”Will they through?”
>You stop to face him, noticing that he’s been following you closely.
“The world does not hinge on my actions.”
>”You’d be surprised actually.”
“I’m not your messiah.”
>”Now look.”
>He places his hands on your shoulders.
>”I know the writing has only been declining in quality and getting more plagued with clichés and references as Acts pass, but that’s no reason to quit.”
“Discord?”
>”Yes Anon?”
“Get your hands off of me.”
>He immediately retracts them.
>And so, you continue on your way to your cot.

>”So that’s it, you’re not going to do anything?”
“There’s nothing I can do.”
>”And when have you ever let that stop you?”
“Right now.”
>”Besides now.”
“Look, if you’re so keen on the idea, then whisk me away to my destination. I know you can’t teleport me directly, so just pick up the boat and fly it to where you need me to go.”
>”I can’t do that.”
“Then get a magic carpet and show me the world. Or make a chariot and pull me there yourself, or do any of the other hundreds of things you could do to get me there.”
>”Can’t do that either.”
“And why not?”
>”I… just can’t.”
“Good, so we’re on the same page.”
>As you reach your living space, you sit on your cot and reach over to the flask that was left in the crow’s nest from Three-Leg.
“I can’t do anything, you can’t do anything. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’d not like to be sober when everyone is taken and the ship is eaten or something. Preferably I’d not be conscious at all.”
>”You don’t want to do this anon.”
“Don’t presume to know me.”
>”I know you all too well. And that’s why you need to trust me.”
>You open up the flask and take a swig of the moonshine within.
>God that’s strong.
“Spare me the lecture.”
>”Fine! Have it your way. Have fun in your tent, Achilles.”
>Discord disappears, leaving you alone with your alcohol.
>You bring the flask back up to your lips, and let the coarse liquid down your throat.

>…
>Call is draped over your back as you are taking him back to his apartment.
>”I-“
>He hiccups.
>“I love you mate.”
“Somepony should do something about the alcoholism rates in the military.”
>”Your back in da will!”
“How did you even find enough on the tour to get this wasted?”
>”Ya really gotta work for it.”
“Just do me a favor and don’t throw up on me.”
>”Can we stop for scones?”
“No.”
>”Bar hopping?”
“You’ve had enough.”
>”Ya don‘t no my limit. I’m perfectly perfect roight now.”
“Perfectly perfect?”
>No reply.
“Call?”
>”Zzzzzzzz.”
>He better not drip on you.
>From either end.
>…
>Maybe, just maybe, if you get to Canterlot you’ll be able to jog more of your memory.
>A large yawn escapes you.
>But… you’ve only been up for a few hours.
>Or have you?
>It’s hard to keep track of time here.
>Just like the sun is stationary in the sky, each clock you’ve passed is stopped at twenty-four past noon.
>But right now, you need rest.
>However, this time you won’t forget you have wings.
>You quickly glide down to your balcony.
>In your room, you immediately head for your bed.
>The soft embrace of the mattress immediately puts your aching muscles at ease.
>Everything just feels like such… bliss.
>You barely even notice the slight sound of movement in the hallway.
>Soft little beats against the floor just outside of your bedroom.
>Before this can properly quantify in your mind, you’re already sound asleep.

>…
>Your eyes slowly start to open.
>As you look around, you see a mostly empty train car.
>Stretching your arms out to the side, you try to get blood flowing from your nap.
>You’ve just settled a border dispute with the minotaurs, and you’ve been immediately drawn back to the heartlands of Equestria for something only described as an ‘emergency’.
>Reaching down under your bench, you bring up your breastplate.
>It’s got a huge dent in the center of it, but it shouldn’t be too hard have fixed.
>You’re amazed the minotaur didn’t crush your entire ribcage.
>You reach to your chest and hold your aching ribs.
>Hopefully nothing is cracked.
>Taking a glance out the window, it looks like you’re almost there.
>”Refreshments?”
>A pony pushing the cart of snacks asks you.
“No thanks.”
>”Have a good day.”
>- Wait a second.
>- You’re not really thinking these thoughts; they’re just coming to you.
>- And the same for what you said.
[What the hell is going on?]
>- Rising from your bench, you take a step into the middle of the car.
[Hey, what’s going on people?]
>- No one replies, or even looks in your direction.
>- You walk over to the closest pony in their own seat.
[Hey, I’m talking to you.]
>- Nothing, he just keeps looking out the window.
>- You wave your hand in front of his eyes.
>- Nothing…
>- You try to nudge him on his shoulder.
>- And are taken aback when your hand goes through his shoulder.
>- Standing back up, you turn back to your seat.
>- And find yourself sitting there.
>- God, you look so young.
>- No sign of greying hair.
>- No scar over your left eye.
>- And your beard was only just in the early stages of growing into the large bush that it would eventually become.
>[Hello Anon.]
>- Son of a-
[What are you doing to me Discord? Another dream?]

>- His disembodied voice replies:
>[Not quite, this is a dream, but it’s also one of your memories.]
>- You look around, taking note of ‘your’ appearance and the dented breastplate ‘you’ are holding.
[Nineteen or twenty years ago, I had just dueled a minotaur chief to disgrace him in front of his war band.]
>[The official record is that there was never the threat of minotaur invasion… in this year at least.]
[Yeah whatever. Just let me out.]
>[I’m afraid I can’t do that.]
[Like hell you can’t.]
>[True, I can, but I won’t.]
[And why not?]
>Because you need a trip down memory lane.]
>- You begin to focus on waking up, or at least ending this ‘dream’.
>- Discord begins laughing, because he has no form it echoes eerily in your ears.
>[Sorry, but remember that you’re drunk. If you can barely walk, you have no power here. I hope you don’t wet yourself in reality while you’re here.]
[Bastard.]
>[It’s in your best interests, now be a good boy and synchronize up with your younger self. If you don’t let him do the movement, then as soon as he leaves the room you’ll be shunted back into his body. And that would be quite painful.]
[I’ll play along.]
>[Excellent!]
[On one condition: if I’m not sold by the time I either wake up naturally or am sober enough to end it, then you leave me alone. No more interference and you’ll just leave me alone. Deal?]
>[Done.]
>- Wait, really?
>- He didn’t even hesitate.

>[Now just step into your other body, then sit back and enjoy the show.]
>-You walk back over to the seated you.
>- As you swipe a hand through his face, you feel a slight suction.
>- You quickly retract your hand before it gets pulled in.
>- Well, it’s like Discord said.
>- Just sit back and relax.
>- You place your hand back inside of the other you.
>- Leaving it there for a moment, it feels like your entire body is being sucked through a straw and into the younger you.
>- You soon start to stabilize, each inch of your body syncing up with what the other you is doing.
>- This feels so wrong.
>- You’re moving without moving.
>- You can feel every sense that the younger you is doing.
>- And once you relax, you should start getting all of your thoughts as well.
>- Here goes nothing.
>You’re unable to get the dirt off of the steel.
>It’s a light bag that you packed, but there should be some polish in it.
>Well, that can wait for later.
>It’s not like you’ll need your armor to be clean.
>You shouldn’t even need your armor.
>But the letter did say ‘emergency’.
>The train’s brakes start screeching as you start grinding to a stop.
>Well, you’re here.
>You rise from your bench and get your bag out.
>Setting it on the bench, you stuff your armor into it.
>It’s not pretty, and it bulges awkwardly against the side, but it fits.
>Your sword is in its scabbard leaning against the wall, so you grab that and place it on to your belt.
>Then swing your bag over your back, and head off the train.
>Let’s see what this ‘emergency’ is.

>…
>Stepping off of the train, you tower over the crowd of ponies that receive the other train goers.
>But, not many got off at this stop, and the crowd quickly scatters as each family or group of friends starts to go their own way.
>Taking a look at the town, you notice that it hasn’t changed much.
>Usually your job either has you in large cities or trekking through the wilderness.
>The moments you are in a place like this are… nice.
>Ponyville is a rather quaint town.
>Quiet, peaceful, and full of people that aren’t constantly stressed about the nation’s state of affairs.
>”There you are!”
>Well, mostly they aren’t constantly stressed.
“Hello to you too, Princess Twilight.”
>The purple alicorn approaches you on the now-empty platform as the train begins heading to its next destination.
>”I’m so glad you managed to get the time off, I know I didn’t go through the proper channels to get you here, but- Wait. You know you don’t have to call me Princess.”
“Regulations are as regulations are, don’t like it then get it changed. Also I’ve got a month or so of leave banked, so it’s not a problem. Now what’s this ‘emergency’ all about? Your letter wasn’t specific but it sounded serious.”
>”Yes, very. I’d dare say that the fate of Equestria could hinge on it.”
>She sounds rather serious.
 “Wait, if it’s that bad then why didn’t you request, oh I don’t know… An army? You could have hundreds of men here within a day if it’s this bad.”
>”It’s not one of those types of issues, quality is superior to quantity in this case.”
“Quantity is a quality all its own. Or at least that’s what Uncle Joe Stalin used to say.”
>”No, your talents specifically are needed. I’ve spent a few nights constantly trying to fix it, but I’ve had no luck so far.”
>She paused for a breath, you think the first she’s taken in this conversation.

>”Now the first night I spent trying to remember all of my personal experience with related topics, be they Friendship related or not. The second I spent combing all of my personal notes on said related subjects. And the third I spent all day and night I spent reading all of the books in my library that could shed some light on the conversation, but I was only able to get through a fifth of them at best. Then light was shed on my library through the window and I realized that it was morning, and you would be arriving soon if the train schedule held up with the one you would likely be on, and I spent the morning getting the rest of the books organized so you could help me sift through the information.”
“And in all those nights didn’t you ever stop for rest.”
>”Don’t you understand! There’s no time to rest!”
>A stray hair springs up from her mane.
“Calm down Twilight, you’ll start hyperventilating. Breathe in through the mouth… and out through the nose.
>You pause a moment so she can relax.
“Now what’s the problem is something from the Everfree getting close to town?”
>”It’s Flurry. She got DETENTION!”

“You had me rush here… because Flurry got Detention?”
>”Yes! As you know she’s staying here for a couple months and is going to the local school. Well Miss Cheerilee sent her back to the castle one day with a note saying that Flurry has detention for the ENTIRE rest of the week!”
“Really?”
>”I know! At first I tried to examine the possible roots of why Flurry would ac-“
“No, I didn’t say ‘really’ as in ‘good heavens, please continue because I’m equally as stunned and outraged’ I meant ‘really’ as in ‘you wrote a letter to get me here because all of Equestria is in danger because a kid got detention’.”
>”But all of Equestria is in danger! If not properly dealt with Flurry could grow up to be a delinquent! And I’d rather not have my niece become the Princess of Slacking Off.”
“Now that would be quite the title: now introducing Princess Flurry Heart, the Princess of Slacking Off, and… oh I’ll get to the rest of the title’s later.”
>”This is not the time to be making jokes!”
“Didn’t you ever get detention?”
>”No, why would I ever put myself into a situation that broke school rules and regulations?”
>Of course the very idea sounds alien to her.
>”Why? Don’t tell me you did.”
“No, I just never got caught.”
>She looks at you with a completely shocked face.
“Look… just let me talk to her, where is she? Usually she’s on the platform ready to tackle me.”
>”She doesn’t know you’re coming. And I’ve grounded her until she can finish a five thousand word paper apologizing to her teacher and class for disrupting their learning environment.”
“Oh for crying out loud… Just take me to her.”

>…
>Soon she led you to good ole Fort Friendship.
>At her insistence you left your bag and sword near the entrance, as her stalwart dragon man-servant will be taking care of it.
>Eventually you reached the door to Flurry’s room in this castle.
>Before entering, Twilight stopped you.
>”And you’re sure you wouldn’t want to do any research before heading in.”
“It’ll be fine.”
>”But-“
“It’s fine.”
>You reach down to open the door.
>At the far end of the room, you see Flurry sitting at her desk staring blankly at a piece of paper.
>But she immediately glances up and-
>She shoots out of her chair and starts flying at you like a speeding bullet.
>”UNCLE NON!”
>She thuds against your chest, almost knocking you to the ground.
>With the wind knocked out of you, you croak at her:
“Hey kiddo. When you’d learn to fly?”
>She is attempting to hug you, but her front legs aren’t long enough to get around.
>So instead she slides to the ground and starts jumping up and down at your feet.
>”Aunt Twilight’s Wonderbolt friend Rainbow Dash coached me while she was in town a few weeks ago!”
“Well isn’t that something! You certainly seem good at it.”
>”It’s so much easier than the silly magic Aunt Twi-lie is trying to teach me.”
>Twilight coughs to remind you of why you're here.

>Right.
>You put on a stern face and start speaking in deeper tone of voice.
“Don’t you have something to tell me?”
>Flurry instantly becomes still.
>”I got detention.”
“Why?”
>She mumbles something
“Speak up.”
>”I put a tack on the teacher’s chair.”
>Really?
“I’m very disappointed in you young lady.”
>You turn to Twilight.
“Look, you’ve been up quite a while, go get some sleep. I think I’ve got it from here.”
>”Are you sure?”
“Yeah, it’ll be better if you can get rested.”
>”Oh thank you so much.”
>She begins to turn but stops herself.
>”Just, don’t go too hard on her, okay?”
>Oh she has no idea.
>But you must have put on a good show if that’s what she’s telling you.
>Or it’s the exhaustion speaking.
>As Twilight begins down the hallway, you reach back and close the door once she’s well out of earshot.
>Then turn back to Flurry, who is staring at the ground out of shame.
“Like I’ve said, I’m very disappointed in you.”
>”I-“
>Her nose sniffles.
>”I’m so sorry Uncle Non.”

>You speak at a normal tone again.
“Putting a tack on the teacher’s chair, oh come on! That’s one of the oldest ones in the book! I expect something more ingenious from you.”
>Her head shoots back to look at you and there is a slight twinkle in her eye.
>”You’re not mad!”
“No kiddo, I’m not mad. I am disappointed though.”
>”But why?”
“Because you got caught. If you’re going to go with one of the classics, then the least you can do is avoid the blame.”
>”But it wasn’t my fault. The Cake kids put me up to it! And another student saw me do it then tattled!”
“Did you tell on these Cakes?”
>”No.”
“Good, I’m not raising you to be a snitch.”
>You are a bad influence.
>Walking over to her desk, you take a look at the paper that Twilight is making her write.
>”Aunt Twi-lie says I need FIVE THOUSAND words. I don’t even know if I can count that high.”
>The page is entirely blank aside from:
>Dear Class, I am
“Well well.”
>Flurry waits eagerly for what you’ll say next.
“That looks like five thousand words to me. You want ice cream?”
>”REALLY?”
“Come on kiddo, I’m busting you out.”
>You are a very bad influence.

>…
>Walking through the town, Flurry was sitting up on your shoulders.
>You think she likes to be much taller than everyone else.
“Alright, we’re here.”
>She flutters down to the ground
>”Can we sit outside?”
“If that’s what you want.”
>She rushes over to a table with an umbrella over it.
>And immediately sits up in the chair, her front hooves together on the top of the table, and her legs kicking in the air because they can’t reach the ground.
>Soon after you sit across from her, a server comes up to take your orders.
>Flurry speaks up first.
>”I want the biggest thing you have. Not a lot of ice cream, the BIGGEST.”
>The server glances over at you for approval.
“You heard the lady. I’ll just take a vanilla cone.”
>”I’ll be right back.”
>She leaves to head inside of the building.
>”Hey Uncle.”
“Yes?”
>”Do you have any new stories?”
“Maybe."
>”Tell me one!”
“All in due time.”
>”It’s here!”
>You glance over at the server who is approaching.
>That was quick.

>And that is massive!
>The server is a unicorn, and she’s currently levitating a vanilla cone with two scoops.
>And a mountain of a sundae.
>As its set in front of Flurry, your entire view of her is blocked.
>It must be at least two feet tall, covered in chocolate syrup, cherries, crushed nuts, and bananas.
>Flurry is probably only two or three times the size of the mass in front of her.
>You grab the tiny by comparison cone that is being offered to you.
>Sliding over Flurry’s sundae, you see her eyeing it with a spoon in hand.
“Hey! What do we say?”
>She breaks her gaze and looks to the server.
>”Thank you.”
>And she immediately goes back sizing up the ice cream.
>The server nods to you and speaks:
>”I’ll let you get at it; I’ll be by with a receipt soon.”
“Thanks.”
>…
>When the receipt was brought by, you went inside to pay it.
>The line wasn’t that long, but it looks like the server is the only one on duty right now, so she was pretty busy running back and forth.
>Soon, you paid and headed back outside.
>Coming back to the table, you… see…
>She ate it.
>The entire thing.
>In less than ten minutes.
>Is she even human?
>Err, is she even a pony?
>Seeing as she’s got a massive case of brain freeze, you’d say yes.
>Her face is against the table and she’s rubbing her temples with her hooves.
>Between moans, she gets out  few words.
>”I’m never eating ice cream again.”
“You okay kiddo?”
>She looks up at you, perfectly fine.
>With no indication of having brain freeze.
>”Yeah, I’m alright.”
>Well that was quick.

>”Hey Uncle Non?”
“Yeah?”
>”In a few days we’re having parent day in school. All of the other ponies’ moms or dads are coming in to talk about their jobs. But really any family member is allowed to be there. Would you come by for me?”
“Wouldn’t you prefer your Aunt to go?”
>”But you’re so much cooler.”
“But she’s your actual family.”
>”But you’re married.”
“What?”
>”She’s my Aunt, and that makes you my Uncle.”
“We aren’t married.”
>”Oh… But then why when I’m talking to my friends about how you and she talk to each other, they say that it’s like being ‘an old married couple’?”
“It’s just a phrase; it doesn’t mean that the people in question are actually married.”
>”OOOOHHH. I understand.”
“Glad I could clear that up for you.”
>”Hey Anon?”
“Yeah kiddo?”
>”Why aren’t you two married.”
“Mainly because we don’t like each other like that.”
>“Oh… Hey Anon?”
“Yeah kiddo?”
>”Will you marry Twilight? That would mean you can come in for parent day.”
“You’re really set on this, aren’t you?”
>”She’d bore the entire class to DEATH.”
“I don’t think you’re giving you Aunt as much credit as she deserves.”
>”Please?”
“Look, I’m sure your teacher would be fine with me coming in. No marriage required.”
>Flurry crosses her arms and pouts.
>”I’ll ask about it tomorrow.”
“You know it doesn’t work when you pout.”
>”What?”
“Pouting doesn’t work to guilt people when the person pouting is adorable.”
>”I am NOT adorable.”
>Her voice cracked when she said ‘not’.
>In response you start laughing.
>To which she only tries to pout harder, producing the same effect as before.

>…
>The rest of the day was spent in the park with Flurry.
>She was very eager to show you how good of a flier she’s become.
>Well, the phrase ‘very eager’ barely scratches the surface.
>It’s probably just due to her age, but she’s had almost no luck with magic.
>Even with Twilight as a teacher.
>But flying comes to her so naturally.
>For a while you started brooding on how quickly she’s growing.
>You can remember her in diapers and vomiting on you and Twilight like it was just yesterday.
> But that thought had to be ended prematurely.
>It was nearing sundown, and she had to get to bed for school tomorrow.
>And you really don’t want Twilight waking up and finding out that you sprung Flurry from her punishment.
>…
>You finish tucking her into bed.
>”Uncle Non, will you tell me a story?”
“It’s getting late.”
>”Please?”
“I’ve had a tough couple of days and am really tired.”
>”A quick one?”
>She looks at you with those big sad eyes.
>You sigh.
“Alright.”
>You just can’t say no to her.
“Now this happened in my world over twenty-five hundred years ago. This is the story of Marathon, considered by many to be the most influential event in the early days of Western Civilization.”
>…
“So then, he ran all the way back to Athens.”
>This part is arguably anachronistic, but hey, it’s good storytelling.
“And this is after being a part of the battle, so he was already pretty fatigued.”
>”Zzzzzz.”
>She fell asleep a few minutes ago, but you said you’d give a story, so you’re going to finish it.
“As soon as he reached the city, he proclaimed to the people that they had won. However, he then died on the spot from the exhaustion, the last casualty of the battle.”
>You stand up from the side of her bed.
“The next one is the Athenian siege of Syracuse. I’ll tell you about that next time kiddo.”
>You bend down and plant a light kiss on Flurry’s forehead before heading to exit the room.

“Goodnight Flurry.”
>You take extra care to keep the door quiet as you leave.
>Turning from the door you-
“Oh, Twilight.”
>You didn’t expect to see her out of bed this soon.
>”Bedtime story?”
“Yeah.”
>”Are you sure she deserves it?”
“Well she’s been cooped up in there for so long, I’d say yes.”
>”You think she’s learned her lesson?”
“I think so.”
>”I’m not so sure… but I’ll take your word for it.”
“You know she had some crazy ideas about us.”
>”Oh really?”
>- Alright, let’s take a walk.
>-You force your way out of your body.
“Yeah, she seems to think…”
>- Drowning out the noise, you address a certain somebody.
[Discord, you there?]
>[Quiet, I want to watch.]
[Do me a favor, skip forward two days.]
>[Why would I do that?]
[Do you want to wait two real time days until something noteworthy happens? You’d only miss me lounging around the castle and sleeping on a proper bed.]
>[You’re so needy.]
[Discord… please, just do this one thing for me.]
>- You feel a sharp pain in your gut as you are sucked into ‘your’ body.
>- After blacking out for a moment, you relax back into being an observer.
>Well, this is it.
>Clean fatigues, freshly cut hair, and a well groomed beard.
>You and Flurry reach the entrance to her school.
>The early morning sun was shining bright, but a cool breeze kept things comfortable.
“Ready kiddo?”
>”All the others are going to be SO jealous!”
>You’ve got a basic idea for what you’re going to say, but for the most part you’ll be winging it.
>Hopefully you won’t embarrass her.
>Most adult ponies are polite enough not to treat you much differently based on your species, but kids can sometimes lack the common courtesy that their elders possess.
>Oh, what can possibly go wrong?

>…
>You spent the day in the school, with all of the students and their parents or parental stand-ins.
>When it came your turn, you answered the standard questions about your job.
>That you’re a soldier, not a Royal Guard.
>One of a couple thousand men that deals with monsters, bandits, and changelings.
>And fights in wars when they happen, but it’s been a long time since the world had an actual war.
>So you spend most of your time across the country dealing with the few issues that turning the other cheek doesn’t work on.
>You actually ended up telling a story about how you had to stop a cockatrice outside of Glascow.
>Celestia and Luna had a hunch that you would be immune to being turned to stone, and it proved to be correct.
>So you went out alone and tracked it down.
>Given the age of the audience and their dietary tendencies, you left out the bit where you cooked the remains.
>Appropriately enough, they do in fact taste like chicken.
>But, you chewed the scenery a bit and ended up going over time while telling your tale.
>The audience seemed to enjoy it.
>After all, they did stay after the school day would have ended to hear the conclusion of how you got promoted to your current rank of Sergeant.
>You were the last of the adults speaking, so you didn’t cut into another story.
>After you finished, the ponies all started going their own ways.
>A few lingered to exchange pleasantries, however you soon ended up walking back to the castle with Flurry.
>She spent every step of the way going on about how you are ‘the most amazing-ist Uncle ever’.
>You mainly were thinking on what to do now.
>Her weekend has just started, and last night you managed to convince Twilight to un-ground her.
>Maybe a picnic tomorrow?

>Wait.
>Today is the…
>You can’t believe you almost forgot.
“Hey Flurry?”
>”Yeah Uncle Non?”
“Do you have some friends you can go play with this afternoon?”
>”But I don’t want to play with my friends, I want to spend time with you!”
>She’s getting better at reading your tone of voice.
“I know I’m gone often, but I have some very important things to take care of.”
>”What kind of things?”
“Adult things.”
>”YOU’RE GOING TO PROPOSE TO AUNT TWILIGHT?”
“What? No!”
>”Oh…”
>The disappointment in her voice is palpable.
“I promise that you’ll have me all to yourself for the next couple of days.”
>”Promise?”
“Yeah kiddo.”
>Well… since you got me out of being grounded and having to write that paper of apology…”
“Good, now run along. And be at home and in bed by ten.”
>”Yes Uncle.”
“And ‘ten’ means ten tonight, not ten tomorrow morning.”
>”Wait… you can do that when you’re told a time? Just take it as the other half of the day?”
>You may have just inadvertently planted that loophole in her head.
“It’s called a technicality.”
>”COOL!”
>You are definitely a bad influence.
“But that won’t go over with me. Be at home and in bed by, twenty-two hundred hours. Understood?”
>”Yes Sir!”
>She salutes to you before fluttering off into town.
>You wait until Flurry is far out of sight, and then head to make your own stop in town.
>…
>Holding onto the newly-procured bottle you have in a brown bag, you head into the castle.

>Walking through the hallways, you arrive at the kitchen.
>After grabbing a pair of glasses, you continued onward to your final destination.
>You knock on the door.
>”Come in.”
>You knew she’d be in here.
>With your free hand, you reach down to open the door.
“Hello Twilight.”
>”Anon, how can I help you?”
>Her eyes drift to the brown bag and glasses.
>”What’s the occasion?”
“You really don’t remember?”
>She looks up and to the side as she ponders.
“It’s the anniversary... of when your brother set off.”
>”That was two weeks ago, you already missed it.”
“No, that was when he left the Crystal Empire. Today is when his boat set off.”
>”Well, come in.”
>You enter into the room.
>It’s right next to her bedroom; she had converted it into a personal study.
>Well seeing as every single wall is covered with bookcases; it’s more of a personal library.
>She’s currently sitting at a desk facing the door, so you take one of the two chairs on the opposite end.
>Setting the wine glasses on the table, you then pull out the bottle from its bag.
>The vintage puts the bottle of wine at forty-six years old.
>It was the best you could afford with what little money you had on you.
>Thankfully, alcohol is a rather niche product in Equestria, so prices are generally reasonable.
>Well… or they’re ludicrously expensive.

>With wine specifically there are only a half dozen main vineyards, and all of them make most of their money from grapes themselves.
>The families that run the vineyards put all of their excess crops into wine, and generally there are a lot of excess crops.
>High supply, low demand: thank you economics.
>The years that are in low supply obviously go for a lot more; but as a rule of thumb, a three hundred year old vintage here costs about the same as a sixty year old vintage back on Earth.
>Other alcohols exist here, but wine is by far the cheapest.
>Probably because it’s the most popular.
>Beer and Spirits are expensive because there isn’t a huge pony market for them.
>The cheapest of those are imported from the griffons or minotaurs, who have more of a palate for those kinds of drinks.
>- Huh.
>- You start drifting out of focus as you experience your younger self’s train of thought.
>- Alcohol became much cheaper and popular as the army ended up expanding past a couple thousand members.
>- Soldiers need their booze.
>- And that ended up translating over to the general population as soldiers went back home.
>- Now alcoholic beverages are about as popular as they were on Earth.
>- Wine is still by far the most popular among civilians though.
>-  It’s amazing how much this world has changed in twenty years.
>- Total war will do that to populations.
>[Hey!]
[What do you want Discord.]
>[Quit getting side tracked, and just watch your memory.]
[Fine.]
>- You begin to relax yourself and you start sinking back into the past.
>Reaching into your pocket, you retrieve a Swiss army knife.
>Of course it’s not actually from Switzerland, so it’s not really a ‘Swiss’ army knife, but the important thing is that it has a corkscrew.
>As you begin to open up the wine, Twilight speaks to you.
>”I appreciate the thought, but you know I don’t drink.”
“Then I’ll drink yours for you.”
>”Don’t you always?”

>You take a whiff of the open bottle, and proceeded to pour two glasses.
>As you set the bottle of wine down, you then pick up one of the glasses and hold it up.
>Twilight grabs the other with her magic, and holds it up.
>”To Shining Armor?”
“To family.”
>You clink your glass against hers, and proceed to take a sip.
>And by sip, you meant chug.
>And by chug, you meant bottoms up.
>She sets her glass down near you.
>Which you then swap with your now empty glass.
>This one you’ll take at a normal pace.
“You know that he probably helped me adjust to this world better than anyone else.”
>You take a sip of wine from your new glass.
“Don’t get me wrong, you helped quite a bit, as did others. But…”
>”I understand, don’t worry. I can imagine being tossed into an utterly alien world.”
“Not TOTALLY alien. I should just be happy that we speak the same language. Further than that, it’s a miracle that I can even breathe your air.”
>”Well theoretically, given that you-“
“Let me stop you there, we’ve been there before.”
>You take another sip.
“You know, the smallest part of me is still unsure if this is just one big coma-induced dream.”
>Twilight’s horn glows, as a quill begins to levitate over her desk.
>She brings it over and pricks you on the back of your hand.
“Ouch.”
>You say in a condescending tone.
>”Just making sure you aren’t dreaming.”
“Hey Twilight, you mentioned that the anniversary of Shining leaving the Crystal Empire for his voyage was two weeks ago. Does that mean that you and Flurry took note of it then?”

>”Actually, I didn’t bring it up to her. I figured that she has enough on her plate with growing up as it is.”
“Is this really coming from you? Who are you, and what have you done with MY Twilight!”
>She sighs.
>”Very funny.”
“I jest, I jest.”
>”A shame the army is full of jesters.”
“Nope, just me.”
>”And why do I keep you around again?”
“Oh I can think of a few reasons.”
>”And what would those reasons be?”
“Mainly because of the whole ‘immune to magic’ thing, it’d be pretty hard to get rid of me.”
>”Uh huh.”
“But… to change topics, what’s your schedule like these next two days?”
>”I’m free, why?”
“I was thinking we should take Flurry out for a picnic tomorrow. Would you prefer the park or the lake?”

>”It’s been a long time since we’ve been to the lake.”
“Right, but sorry. My memory is a bit foggy, what happened that last time?”
>You remember that night perfectly.
>”Well that would be too easy. I’m sure we can find some way to jog your memory.”
“And how would you do that, exactly?”
>”Wait! Speaking of Flurry, where is she?”
“With friends, she’s to be here and in bed by ten.”
>”What friends?”
“I don’t know, why?”
>”Because a pack of timber wolves was seen near the outskirts of the Everfree a few weeks ago.”
“I’m sure that between the two of us, we’ve taught her to avoid monsters.”
>Twilight sighs once again.
>”I know, it’s just that I worry. If Shining comes back and Flurry was hurt while under my watch… our watch.”
“I know that you want to protect her, I do to. But she’s still a kid, and she deserves to enjoy her childhood as best as she can given her situation as a Royal and with her Father away.”
>- You break out of the confides of your memory.
[Hey Discord, skip forward to the lake.]
>[Do I look like a remote control to you?]
[You’re a disembodied voice, you look like what I say you look like. Now skip forward.]
>[Fine, as you command, Commandant.]