Myths and Birthrights

by Tundara

Book One: Chapter Twelve: Troubled Waters

Myths and Birthrights
By Tundara

Book One: Awakening and Arrivals
Chapter Twelve: Troubled Waters

Fleur had just stepped on deck for the first time since leaving Baltimare, intent on speaking with Twilight, when Ophelia Navigator fell overboard.

During the initial period, the captain was continually shifting sails. Jibs and staysails flashed in and out, topsails one moment, then taken in the next. A seemingly endless series of alterations and corrections to be made while the captain discovered the Bellerophon’s ways, what sails she liked to carry, and what seas she preferred. She was a slow, temperamental beast, requiring a firm hoof at the wheel, but at least she was dry and sturdy, crushing the waves as much as gliding over them.

For six days it went on, Twilight and her friends staying below. They should have been talking, playing games, and trying to relax, but Twilight’s friends proved to be little company.

Pinkie Pie refused to stay confined to their cabins and before they’d rounded the cape she’d practically become part of the crew. The warrant officers had grown so used to her bright pink coat being mixed in with the foremast jacks that the bo’sun thought nothing of starting her—striking her across the flank with a knotted cord to get her to hurry—when one of the many shifts in sails was called. With a yelp she’d darted up the mast as nimbly as any of the foremast jacks, and it was only afterwards that the bo’sun’s mistake became apparent, much to the displeasure of everypony involved, except for Pinkie herself. She took the incident with her usual good cheer.

The captain had been particularly furious, dressing the bo’sun down in the cabin with a voice that had been heard from one end of the ship to another.

It had taken hours of effort on Twilight and the captain’s part to explain how dangerous Pinkie’s antics were, not only to herself, but the crew as well. She was a passenger and existed within a protected bubble outside the normal order of the ship. Twilight wasn’t certain the talk had sunk in, but at least Pinkie wasn’t climbing up the masts and would only jump in to haul on a rope like the landsmares.

Instead, she tended to hang from the lines near the bowsprit, often over the rushing sea, a hoof wrapped around a stay. Wearing an eyepatch and hat with the skull and bones of a pirate, her laughter could be heard from one end of the ship to the other most of the day, along with her repeated cries of, “Best adventure yet!”

For Rainbow it was seasickness.

Of all the pegasus tribes, only Terns regularly traveled the oceans. This wasn’t that the other tribes hated water—though many did—rather, the wild currents of magic flowing from the sea played havoc with their senses. Moody and miserable, all Rainbow could manage was a little bread and water.

“Put me out of my misery now,” Rainbow groaned continually. “This is cruel, letting me linger like this.”

Her face was a pale greenish hue rather than its usual blue as she clung to a bucket. Every few moments she’d dry heave, her wretched moans filling the cabin. Looking up with red rimmed eyes at Twilight, Rainbow moaned, “I am never, ever doing this again. Next bit of land we find, you can put me on it and I’ll fly my way home.”

“Dash, that’s not what you really want, is it?” Twilight asked, only to be answered by her friend's continued retching.

Unlike Rainbow, Fleur wasn’t sea-sick; she was petrified. Fleur, it turned out, suffered from thalassophobia: fear of the sea. At every little creak and groan the ship gave, or each time the thunderous din of running hooves sounded, Fleur would jump, eyes darting wildly, face paler than her white coat.

She refused to go near the great windows, to say nothing of going on deck, and had confined herself to her cabin for the most part, only venturing out to join Twilight and her friends for dinner.

Solday found the ship leaving the straits of St. Jasmine and out into the open Marelantic. There could not have been a greater shift in states. The Bellerophon settled, the wind backed onto her larboard quarter, and she began to sail with an almost graceful ease in the wide rollers. Even Sol herself came out, the clouds parting to allow swaths of shimmering sunlight to play across a crystal blue ocean.

The crew took this as a good omen, as Solday meant divisions and the ship being rigged for temple. Most ships chose not to have a Sister aboard, as it was seen as bad luck, and there was no creature alive more superstitious than a sailor, but the act of prayers on Solday was a tradition old as time, and only a bad blow or battle could prevent the crew and officers from forming their neat lines. At the drum sounding Celestia’s Dance, the marines snapped to attention and the seamares all gave the captain their most attentive stares. Twilight, Pinkie, and Rainbow stood behind the officers on the poop deck, with Fleur remaining in her cabin.

Following a few prayers—one each for Celestia, Luna, and Cadence, with two for the Namegiver—Hardy read the Articles of Employment that detailed the laws of the sea. As the last rumbling of, “And all other offenses not capital, committed by a pony or ponies in the fleet, which is not mentioned in this act or for which no punishment is directed, shall be punished in accordance with such cases as by the laws and customs of the sea,” crossed the solemn company, Hardy turned to Twilight and asked, “Is there anything you wish to add, Your Divine Highness?”

He made sure to stress the ‘divine’ of her title, making his reason for asking a passenger to speak clear to all present.

Clearing her throat, Twilight took the captain’s place behind the barrels that had been lashed together with a broad, embroidered cloth thrown over to create a lectern. Velvet had raised Twilight in the traditional manner, which for nobility meant learning the Books of Names and Sol, in addition to attending the priestesses noon sermons. It had been years since Twilight had gone to a sermon, Celestia’s history with the Sisterhood being complicated and distant during Twilight’s time in Canterlot, and Ponyville had no temple or priestess.

She gazed over the collection of happy faces watching her with open anticipation. They all wore their best vest and sennit hats, the ship’s name embroidered into the hat’s ribbons, and coloured streamers in the edges of the vests.

Buying more time to come up with a plan, Twilight cleared her throat again. Striking on an idea, she summoned the Book of Spring and laid the ancient tome before her.

“I’d like to read a passage from my… from Iridia’s book, the Book of Spring. I finished translating it last night, and it seems… Well, I’ll just read it.”

The passage was rather unremarkable, detailing the early travels of a very young Iridia who’d just uncovered her Mark, and how she found her sister in the eastern wilds. Twilight fell naturally into her lecturing tone, her words carrying clear to even the furthest seamare at the bow. It was a short passage, and it had an immediate effect, the crew and officers pleased.

Afterwards, the captain went on an inspection of the ship, while Twilight retired to the stern rail to read.

Ophelia and a few of the other youngsters were skylarking, sitting up on the fore topgallant arm to watch the entire spread of the ocean before the ship, an almost endless plane of blue water that stretched off until it merged with the bluer sky so very far away. With the roll of the ship they would hover over the water, swing above the deck, and then be over water once more. It was at such a point that the ship gave a sudden jitter and Ophelia slipped. She hung there for a moment, eyes wide, hooves stretching out for the running lines, and then she fell. It was a miracle that she missed the lower arms to splash amid the cool water.

At once came the cry of, “Mare overboard!” followed by the rumble of rushing hooves.

Ophelia bobbed to the surface, gasping, only to be swept back down by the water racing along the ship’s side.

Rolling Holler had the deck at the time, the third lieutenant racing to the rail along with two dozen crew.

“A barrel, throw her a barrel. Anything that floats,” she shouted after a moment of inaction, the stout Seaweed sisters already hefting the almost empty water cask that had been sitting next to the mainmast.

They’d just raised it, ready to toss it over the side, when a second cry came from further aft, followed by, “The princess! The princess!”

Only a few lengths above the water, Twilight struck at the air with her uncertain wings, reciting her flying lessons as she struggled to gain altitude. Her hoofs skimmed through the top of a tall wave, and she was certain the she was about to tumble into the water herself. With frantic beats, Twilight gained a hooflength, then two of height, narrowly missing the next wave. Safe from plunging into the chilly waters, Twilight cast her gaze outward for the little midshipmare.

She couldn’t see Ophelia anywhere.

“Horseapples,” Twilight cursed, beating her wings hard to gain more altitude.

A cry for help grabbed Twilight’s ear, but, by the time she’d managed to swing around, her turn slow and sloppy, Ophelia was gone again.

The Bellerophon sat not far off, ponies swarming over her and her captain’s thundering voice just audible over the lap of the waves. Twilight could feel a dozen telescopes trained on her, Sol’s light glinting off their glass eyes. Putting the ship out of her mind, Twilight began to zigzag back and forth, desperate for a sign of the filly. Focusing on the task at hoof was second nature to Twilight, especially in a crisis. She had more than enough practice, with all the calamities that seemed to befall Ponyville.

Two minutes turned into three, and still there was no sign of Ophelia. Twilight couldn’t even hear the filly crying for help anymore, nor tell which way the current was running. Letting out a frustrated groan, Twilight turned to her sleeping stars.

“Polaris, I need your help,” Twilight barked, not taking her eyes off the ocean.

The star didn’t answer.

“Polaris, wake up!” Twilight sent a sharp jab along the thread connecting her to the Lodestar.

Mistress? What is it? Polaris asked with a long yawn.

Glancing up to confirm the star was awake and hadn’t just rolled over and gone back to sleep, as Spike tended to do when he was trying to sleep in, Twilight was comforted to see the flickering star a little to the north.

“I need you, and a few of the girls, to help me look for a drowning filly,” Twilight explained in a rush.

She didn’t wait for a response before reaching up and grabbing a cluster of stars. They shot from her mane with cries of surprise and worry, most bobbing around her like ponies that had too much of Applejack’s hard cider.

Mistress, this is highly unusual! Polaris protested even as she settled atop Twilight’s head, just behind her horn. Okay, sisters, you heard the Mistress. There is a filly lost somewhere nearby. We need to find her fast before Sol notices we’re up.

Please, honey, Sol’s so busy with—

Not now, Brachium, we need to—

The filly is over there, just below the surface and close to death, Vega pointed with a spear of her light.

Twilight was on the move at once, following the Vulturestar across the bluish water. Settling above the indicated spot, Twilight scooped up the ocean with a telekinetic net. Water draining in misting cascades revealed Ophelia and several fish in the net’s bottom. Discarding the fish, Twilight brought the still form of the filly closer. Snapping her wings shut, Twilight teleported back to the Bellerophon’s deck.

Several ponies cried out as she and Ophelia appeared next to the mizzenmast, a field of stars gathering overhead. Before she could call for the doctor, Twilight found herself being jostled below, a cacophony of noise overcoming the ship. She briefly saw Timely tending to Ophelia, and then Twilight was in the cabin. Her head slightly spinning from the speed of her transport from the deck to a cushion on a locker in the great cabin, Twilight found somepony had managed to throw a blanket over her withers.

“I’m fine,” Twilight protested moments before Rainbow appeared at her side and playfully thumped her over the back of the head.

“Do you have any idea how dangerous that stunt you just pulled was?” Rainbow demanded, though the happiness in her eyes coupled the fact she didn’t have her head in a bucket from sea sickness reduced the sting of her jab.

Rolling her eyes, Twilight pushed Rainbow away, and instead asked the nearest member of the Bellerophon’s crew about Ophelia.

“The kid will be alright,” Barrel Scraper huffed as she brought in a tray of sandwiches and coffee. “Doc will pump her dry and have her on her hooves before the marrow, be marking me words on it, Princess.”

While not as confident in the doctor as the captain’s steward, Twilight found little opportunity to discover Ophelia’s condition for herself. With Rainbow outside the cabin, first Captain Hardy then Weathered Scabbard took turns chewing Twilight out as politely and deferentially as possible. She had to hold back a laugh as one then the other marched into the great cabin, fire and thunder on their brow, only to halt and their anger melt away as they noticed the ceiling was covered with a swath of the night, hundreds of stars nestled in among the beams, twinkling with gentle light as they dozed.

“Well…” Hardy said, craning his neck around to look at each star after he’d finished his short condemnation of her actions. “My, there is Arcturas, if I am not mistaken. Great star for navigators, seafarers, and farmers. I’d hoped to use her tonight to fix our position, the weather finally being clear. She heralds storms, you know…” His voice trailed off, and with a cough he excused himself.

Weathered was far more aggressive. After getting over her initial shock at seeing the stars overhead, she harangued Twilight for the better part of an hour, repeating her points over and over as she paced while Twilight sat behind the rosewood desk, ears laid back and glaring at the, temporary, captain of her personal guard. Spent to the point of panting, sweat prickling her brow, Weathered departed, saying to herself, “She can pull the stars from the sky with a thought… What use is a guard to an alicorn?”

Polished Armour entered the cabin as Weathered left, her cousin rolling his eyes as he settled on a cushion in front of Twilight, offering her a bottle of Sweet Apple Acres cider and two cups.

“Where… How?” She verged on stuttering, pointing at the bottle.

Sweet Apple Cider was all but unheard of outside Ponyville, very few bottles surviving long enough to leave the valley. Those that did were found in Manehatten in the possession of the Oranges, Applejack sending a few bottles to her aunt and uncle. Twilight had tried in the past to find a bottle, only to give up after checking every shop in Ponyville, Canterlot, and the surrounding towns.

“Trade secret,” Polished gave Twilight a sly grin as he uncorked the bottle, filling two cups with the precious beverage.

“So,” he began, pushing a cup to Twilight while she gaped at the golden drink, “You just couldn’t stop yourself from being the heroine, could you?”

“What?” Twilight snapped her head up at the accusation. “Listen, I’ve just been chewed out by Hardy and Weathered, I don’t…”

Polished held up a hoof to halt Twilight, his eye twinkling with mischief in a way that reminded her of Shining. “Hey, I’m not here for excuses or to listen to an irate, pampered princess who just has to be the center of attention and damn anypony else.” Twilight was more than a little taken aback by the bite in Polished’s tone. “I’m here to remind you to watch yourself and that you’re not the hero anymore. You don’t see Celestia or Luna dashing after every missing foal. And, Tartarus, if Cadence concerned herself with every filly with a cracked hoof she’d have no time to herself.” Polished gave Twilight a sour grin.

“That is not…” Twilight took a deep breath to compose and compress her anger before it could run away from her. “What I mean, is that I couldn’t let her drown. She’s just a filly. She shouldn’t even be here and—”

“So, you know better than a thousand years of tradition? A tradition that you yourself participated in?” Polished arched a brow as he refilled his already empty cup.

At a loss as to his meaning, Twilight growled, “Excuse me? I am not following your logic, if there is any.”

He snorted, recorking the cider bottle. “I am speaking of the tradition of apprenticeship, of course. A tradition that we both benefited from, as well as thousands of other ponies at this very moment. Why, there are no less than, let me think, seven? No, eight. Yes, eight, apprentices aboard this ship. I keep forgetting about the doctor’s loblolly filly.”

“That’s only seven,” Twilight pointed out with a smug grin. “Six midshipmares and the doctor’s apprentice.”

Polished gave her a smug grin of his own, like she’d overlooked an obvious, critical fact.

“Why,” he cried, “There is you, of course! Celestia’s apprentice. You never took the graduation tests, as I recall. I’m certain if you had, and passed, Aunt Velvet would have sent letters about House Sparkle’s latest triumph to even the most distant relative.”

A gruff chuckle pressing his eyes into thin lines, Polished made his way to the door while Twilight’s cheeks burned bright, her stars giving agitated flickers. “I’m just joking with you, cousin.” He gave her a wink, pulled the door open, and walked right into Rainbow.

She gave him a look that could make paint blister and grass burn. Polished merely pushed past her with a flick of his tail, the door snapping shut at his heels.

Seeing Twilight’s expression, Rainbow thrust a wing towards the door. “Want me to sort him out for you, Twi?”

“N-No, that’s okay, Dash.” Twilight put on a flimsy smile, one that showed the turmoil flickering through her heart. “I just forget, sometimes, that family isn’t always kind to each other like they should be.”

“He’s a jerk,” Rainbow snorted, glaring at the door as if she could burn a hole through it and singe Polished. “Ignore him, Twi. He’s not worth a pony’s time.”

Taking Rainbow’s advice to heart, and with the captains gone, Twilight shrugged off the blanket. Twilight’s sisters weren’t always the most pleasant mares, especially Pennant, and she’d endured worse encounters before. Once, it had been so bad that Twilight had almost challenged Pennant to a duel just to work out some of her frustrations. But Twilight had no taste for dueling, and then Velvet had stepped in and punished all the ponies involved. Dismissing Polished from her thoughts, Twilight was halfway to the medical bay in the orlop when she encountered Fleur, the ambassador coming up from below.

“You saved her life, Princess,” Fleur congratulated before continuing up to her cabin.

Ophelia lay in a hammock when Twilight arrived, a seamare from her division sitting at her side while Timely moved about checking on his other patients.

“Princess Twilight!” Ophelia exclaimed, attempting to push herself from the hammock, only to be stopped by the seamare’s strong hooves. “I’m sorry for the fuss I caused every pony, especially for you. I’m forever in your debt.”

Twilight soon discovered that forever being in her debt meant Ophelia became something of a second shadow. Whenever Ophelia wasn’t on duty the filly followed and waited on Twilight. Her cherubic face shone with delight, especially when that night she discover her mark, a sextant in bronze with three small stars above.

“It’s impossible, utterly impossible to fix our position,” Ophelia sighed, looking up at the night with all the stars once more in their homes.

“Is something wrong?” Twilight asked, looking over to Ophelia. The Book of Spring sat before Twilight, resting on a silk cushion provided by the captain’s steward. She’d been reading by Rukbat, the Writerstar nestled just behind her horn like a bird and covering the deck in a cool, pinkish glow.

Flicking a hoof up to the night, Ophelia exclaimed, “Yes, Your Highness, there is. I’d hoped to fix our position for my private logbook before turning in, but, as you are aware, the stars dance now from dusk till dawn, and are utterly useless for navigation. Why, there goes Arcturus now, zipping around like the ships cat after she fell into the rum. And, at least Sirius is back. I think…”

“She is?” Twilight twisted around, and picked out Sirius among the stars at once. The star hung, with a sullen, dogged light, quietly ignoring Twilight while her sisters spun above the disc.

Twilight contemplated the dance, a wonderful, spinning movement like gears in some celestial clock, and Sirius’ return for some moments, basking in their glow.

“Is it bad I let them dance?”

Ophelia’s face went pale beneath her chalk white coat. “What? Oh, I didn’t mean it like that! And I am not questioning your right to let them have some fun. If it weren’t for them I’d be travelling the Styx rather than the ocean. No, no, I just… I wish they would settle for a while. Merely long enough for me to fix our position.”

“Well, I could go up and have a look for you?” Twilight understood the foolishness of the offer even before it was fully formed.

“No, no, wouldn’t dream of it, and it would never do, besides.” Ophelia shook his head. “And what of all the other ships out there? Are they to wander blind, many of them near deadly reefs or shoals? Oh, Twilight, I didn’t mean it like that! I’m so sorry, Your Highness, ma’am.”

It wasn’t the first time anypony had said her name as an oath, but it was said with such absolute faith that it struck Twilight with all the force of a falling anvil. Twilight’s head certainly was ringing as loudly from the experience, all her senses suddenly attuned and focused towards Ophelia. She could feel the filly’s yearning and hope, her fears and sadness for the other, hypothetical ships across the disc.

In the same instant, all the stars ceased their dancing. For a few seconds they hovered there, as if they’d been caught with their noses inside a giant, astral cookie jar, before streaking across the night back to their ancient homes.

“Oh, you didn’t…” Ophelia shook her head, lifting her sextant while thanking Twilight over and over.

Smiling, Twilight made to return to her place in the Book of Spring—she’d just reached the verses on the destruction of Marelantis and Bellerophon himself—when a silvery flash caught her attention.

“It’s okay,” Twilight’s smile turned mischievous. “Anything to help a filly get her mark.”

“What?” Ophelia lowered her sextant, it taking a moment for Twilight’s meaning to be pierced. Gasping, she glanced at her flanks and the still glowing mark adorning them, a squeal of pure delight ripping across the ship. Twilight focused on enjoying Ophelia’s delight at having uncovered her Special Talent.

Naturally, the next day Pinkie hosted a Cutecerina for Ophelia in the great cabin. With Barel Scraper’s help, Pinkie put together several batches of cupcakes—enough for the entire ship’s crew—along with a giant pudding made in the shape of Ophelia’s mark. It was a happy gathering, and one that saw the ship enter days and days of wonderful, brisk sailing.

Across the valley from Canterlot, nestled half-way up Mount Sapphire, sat the old fortress of Moonstone Castle. Once, it had been home to the Order of the Sword. Unicorn knights, the Order of the Sword had served the Republic of Equestria, hunting monsters, protecting the commoners, and in general, inspiring a thousand years worth of romance novels. With the transformation from republic to a monarchy following the Age of Chaos, the Order had become the basis for the unicorn portion of the Royal Guards.

Little changed, as far as Moonstone Castle was concerned, when the Order merged into the Royal guards. While a portion of the knights broke off to serve as the basis for the new formed Judicator Guard, protecting the Arbiters as they travelled the land, dispensing Celestia’s judgement and law, most transitioned into their roles as guards for the immortal goddesses. Truth was, even before Discord’s arrival, most of the knights simply sat around drinking, telling stories of heroic deeds, and performing at jousting competitions.

Now, Moonstone Castle served as the training grounds for the recruits. Few were truly untrained, the Royal Guard taking it’s pick of candidates from the Army and Marines. Others were the scions of the noble Houses, like Shining Armour. Even they weren’t untrained, it still a common practice for the nobles’ sons and daughters to be tutored in magic and martial skills.

Both Celestia and Luna took time to periodically visit the castle.

For Celestia it was often a welcome break from dealing with Canterlot’s politics and the bickering of the Houses. She would smile, and watch as the recruits and guards present went through their drills. Once in a while she’d comment or step in to offer a tip. Very rarely would she pick up one of the training swords and join in the exercises.

Luna, on the other hoof, loved getting involved.

After her return, Luna had been out of place and time, her ways and thoughts centered on a period of war and strife. Even before the War of the Sun and Moon, Luna had been more involved in martial aspects.

Celestia was a statesmare.

Luna was a knight.

Every Monday she flew across the valley, revelling in the fresh wind on her face and under her wings, to the castle. Once there she sparred with any brave enough to face her. For the past few weeks, since Twilight had accepted Alonette’s herd as the beginning of her Guard, Luna had been sparing with the Elesian unicorns, gaining a sense of their skill and honour.

Across a large ring from Luna stood Alonette’s youngest daughter, Teacă. Barely fifteen years old, with all the brash confidence youth imparted, the dark coated young mare stared at Luna. At her side she levitated a practice longsword, holding the sword by the grip, leaving the guard and blade free.

At her side, Luna held her ancient blade, Tamashi. A Long Odachi, given to Luna during her travels across the disc after her awakening. The blade was longer than Luna, able to slash her from nose to dock in a single swing. It was like midnight had been poured into a mold and then tempered, seeming to suck in the ambient light. The guard was a slender gold ring, providing little protection for the black and white banded grip, or the tiger head pommel, small emeralds used for the eyes glinting in the early morning light.

Low whispers filled the room, the guards around the edges watching taking bets and laying odds.

“Luna in two strokes, without moving,” an older recruit said, passing one of the instructors a couple bits.

“Betting on these fights… seems a little pointless,” grumbled one of the newer recruits. Still, he slid a few coins to the instructor. “Luna, in one, by disarming.”

Shouting, Teacă charged, bringing her sword up then down in a vicious, sloppy cut. Face impassive, Luna blocked, rolled Tamashi, and with a flick, sent the practice sword spiralling out a window, Tamashi’s edge coming to a rest at Teacă’s throat.

Coins shifted, a few guards groaning as they trotted away, purses a little lighter. Eyes wide, Teacă glanced out the window, down to Tamashi, and then to Luna. She said nothing, just stepped back, bowed, and went to her brothers and sisters, all having suffered similar treatment at Luna’s blade that morning.

Silently, Luna approved.

She’d made their losses as hard and humiliating as possible, seeing if she could provoke a reaction. Their stoic acceptance had yet to crack, and a few had the makings of quality swordmares or stallions. Overall, Luna was edging towards being pleased with them.

Slipping into zbori, the language of Luna’s own Nightguards, she approached the group of elesians.

“You have much to learn, it seems.” A few of the elesians frowned. “That is good. You have less to forget. If you still wish to serve my cousin, do not expect your time here to be easy nor forgiving. At the end…” Luna’s voice drifted off as a familiar sensation crawled up her back and into her wings.

She wasn’t surprised when the tall doors into the training hall were opened enough for Iridia to enter, her travel cloak pulled over her head. The queen looked over the hall, with its racks of training weapons, decorative suits of armour, and high windows stretching up to the rosewood ceiling.

“Iridia,” Luna’s tail snapped from side to side, “what are you doing here?”

“Celestia is off with Cadence, so, I came to chat with you.” Iridia wore a wide grin, her eyes flicking towards the elesians. “And to see these ponies that will be the first of my daughter’s guard.”

Flicking a dismissive wing, Luna huffed, “I don’t have time to chat.” After a pause, she added, “What is Celestia doing with Cadence?”

“I can not say. Cadence popped into Canterlot late last eve and they were both gone by the morn. Nothing serious, I suspect, or they would have informed you, surely.” Iridia shrugged while Luna looked away so as to not show her pain and uncertainty.

“Yes, I am certain that is true,” Luna commented with little conviction.

“Well, let’s not worry about them.” Iridia put on a forced smile. “How about a practice duel? Like in the old days? When you and the Valla would charge across the night, hunting demons and the foul things that thought they were safe beneath Selene’s light. Like when we were a family. Would that be acceptable?”

Luna slowly closed her eyes, memories of a time long lost welling upwards. Her heart beat fast, a tremor in her wings as she turned to face her aunt.

She could see it so clearly, Spring Manor nestled high in the Marenese mountains of Trotalonia. The red tile roof, so unusual to the normally thatched roofs of the time, sticking out of the old pines. A waterfall fed pond sitting in the middle of a garden rich with flowers, fruits, and vegetables taken from across the disc. Stained Glass windows depicting the great events of the manor’s mistress, from the defeat of Witiko and the windigoes to the arrival of Celestia, Luna, and Namyra. Countless hours had been spent beneath the gaze of those windows in that garden talking, laughing, training.

Those had been happy days.

“I think I should like that, actually,” Luna said, surprised at the words as they came.

Her own face going from pleasant surprise to undisguised joy, Iridia removed her cloak, draping it over the back of a weapon stand. Taking the the arena floor, she stretched out her wings and legs.

The usual bets began to take place, coins flowing back and forth. There was a hungry gleam in all the ponies present, many stretching forward or trying to find better vantage points.

“Practice weapons, or our own?” Iridia asked, the sugary sweetness of the question putting Luna on edge.

“Do you even still have a weapon, Iridia? Or should I see if there is something appropriate in the armoury for you?”

With a flicker from her horn, Iridia summoned a broadsword, jewels and gold blazing in the crosspiece and hilt, a fiery red diamond the size of a foal’s hoof glowing with a hungry determination in the pommel. Where blade met hilt sat the crest of House Tuilerya, the sword’s name etched into the blade’s length.

“Gram?” Luna lifted a brow. “I thought she was destroyed.”

“Only twice, now,” Iridia chuckled, giving the sword, first forged in the days of lost Marelantis, a few practice thrusts and swings. “I repaired her. I meant her to be a gift for Twilight, but…”

“Twilight dislikes swords,” Luna concluded. “May I?”

Iridia hesitated for a moment before passing Gram to Luna. The sword was heavier than Luna remembered, the blade a good two inches longer. Likewise, the diamond was new, the previous pummel having been a heavy block etched with powerful glyphs. On closer inspection, Luna noted that it wasn’t a diamond at all, but rather a crystal, resonating with a faint magic of it’s own. A magic that tickled at Luna’s memory, but she couldn’t place from where she knew it.

“It’s the Lust Stone,” Iridia commented. “Drained of all but a memory of it’s magic. I used it to remind me why I fight, and why I reforged the sword.”

“Drained?” Luna whispered, gingerly touching the once diabolical artefact with her hoof. She sensed… nothing but a trace of the gem’s once legendary lust for power. “How did this happen?” Luna asked as she passed Gram back to Iridia.

The queen shrugged her wings, moving to her spot in the arena.

“Velvet Sparkle. She had an interesting time in the Taiga.”

Scoffing, Luna went to her spot, bringing Tamashi into a middle guard. Studying her aunt’s face, wings, and stance, Luna wondered how much Iridia had changed. The queen had favoured directness and bold action in the old days.

Shouting, Luna opened with a quick thrust, Gram tapping Tamashi aside then darting forward in a shallow counter. Her entire being sung as she twisted Tamashi around and drove back onto the offensive. Luna felt at peace as she maneuvered, existing only within the confines of the duel. All the troubles of Canterlot, of Cadence, Twilight, and the shades fell away, subsumed by the need for immediate action.

The blades spun and sparked between Luna and Iridia in a flurry of feints, counters, and driving blows. Twice, Luna left holes in her defence, attempting to entice Iridia into a reckless move, each time the openings were either ignored, or not seen.

Luna was uncertain which was the answer as they began to move in a slow circle. Iridia’s movements were quick, her feints technical like she was fighting by numbers, but there was a sloppy bluntness to her swordwork when forced to improvise. It was almost the opposite of the mare Luna remembered sparing with sixteen centuries earlier.

Deciding to test if it was merely show or if Iridia truly was so rusty, Luna surged forward in a sudden burst, Tamashi crossing high and low.

The technically precise movements Iridia had been favouring vanished. Iridia danced backwards, hopping onto her back hooves to avoid a low cut. Extending her wings for balance, Iridia continued her retreat, Gram snapping up, up, then down. Each time, Tamashi flashed, intercepting Iridia’s thrusts. Flowing like the cresting waves of a rising tide, Tamashi continued forward, Gram striking like a snake as Iridia countered, abandoning any attempts of seeking a hole in Luna’s assault.

Narrowing her eyes, Luna sensed a deception. Abandoning her attack she jumped back, returning Tamashi into a vertical guard.

“This is unlike you, Lulu,” Iridia chided, dropping back to all fours and mirroring Luna’s posture. “You used to be far more ruthless.”

“Perhaps,” Luna admitted. “Or, maybe, I am just enjoying the fight and don’t want it to end.”

Iridia frowned, then charged straight at Luna.

The hall was filled with the ringing tones of the ancient blades as they met time and again, Tamashi’s flowing strikes countered by Gram’s tempered, technical movements. Luna’s confidence rose as they began to circle each other like a pair of wolves fighting for dominance of the pack.

“So, how are things with Cadence?” Iridia asked in one of the short reprieves.

The question interrupted the flow of Luna’s attack, Tamashi hesitating for a moment. Stepping into Luna’s reach, Gram turned Tamashi low, the ancient long odachi gouging a deep line in the arena. Luna silently cursed her lapse as Iridia lashed with the butt of Gram’s pommel. A single flap of her wings propelled Luna back, Tamashi dragging along Gram in a shower of sparks, both weapons going further to the side. Rushing into the gap, Iridia crashed into Luna, both mares losing their grips on their weapons as they rolled across the ground, coming to a rest outside the ring on their backs.

Staring up at the ceiling, Luna began to laugh.

“You always were a cheater, Auntie,” Luna noted as she rolled to her hooves and retrieved Tamashi.

“What is that saying? ‘All is fair in Love and War’?” Iridia smirked as she picked up Gram and returned to the starting spot. “Honestly, though, how do things progress with Cadence?”

All of Luna’s good humor died at once, like a candle thrust into a pool.

“That bad?” Iridia’s own smile faded.

“We do not speak, often,” Luna admitted.

Gram’s tip dropped, resting on the floor as Iridia crossed the short divide. With a clang, the sword fell the rest of the way, Iridia extending a wing and hoof in an offer to hug. Luna stared past her, a low, morse laugh working its way up her throat.

Resting Tamashi across her back, Luna shook her head. “I suppose that you, of all ponies, understand my plight. Our daughters hate us, and I wonder if ever there will be a time when they will put that hatred aside.”

“Oh, fie, Lulu,” Iridia moved forward, wing wrapping around Luna’s neck and drawing her close, so they were cheek to cheek. “They do not hate us. Cadence is Love, and Hate is her antithesis. The Nightmare left scars on her, yes, but Cadence can no more hate you than she hates the Changelings for what they did to her and Shining.”

“Cadence burnt the changelings to ash, auntie.” Luna pointed out, breaking the hug and pushing Iridia back. Though she did feel a little better.

Rolling her eyes, Iridia scoffed. “Only the drones and soldiers. The queen, with all that stolen magic, managed to protect herself enough that she was only flung into the Everfree, breaking just about every bone in her pathetic, maleficent body.”

Luna was surprised at the venom in Iridia’s voice, looking her aunt over. There was anger in her eyes and jaw, Iridia’s wings jittering with the effort to suppress her rage. It was a look Luna had seen once before, right after Namyra had been taken.

“How do you know? We never located the queen after her defeat.”

Breathing the rage away, Iridia put on a smile that was obviously fake, and said, “No, you wouldn’t have. Let’s not talk of that, though. How—”

“What difference was there between me and Chrysalis?” Luna protested, three years of fears and guilt boiling over. “Indeed, the treatment she received from the Changeling Queen was—”

“I am going to have to stop you before you start running away with your guilt, Lulu.” Iridia placed a hoof to Luna’s lips.

Luna scowled at the interruption. Brushing away the hoof, Luna sneered, “Fine, what does the great and wise Iridia, Queen of the Halla and Goddess of the Spring and Mothers have to say on my guilt?”

“Nothing you don’t already know.” Iridia shrugged. “I am not here to kiss your nose and tell you everything will be okay. What I will say is this; have faith in your daughter, as I have faith in mine. I pushed Twilight too hard when I first arrived, I see that now. If I were a betting mare, I would guess you did the same with Cadence, with similar results. Cadence is a good, honourable mare, and her heart knows no limits when it comes to love. She is love manifest, after all. Despite being raised by the Nightmare, look how she turned out.”

“Celestia is more responsible than I for that,” Luna scoffed softly.

Still, the sentiment was not lost on Luna, and the weight across her heart lessened.

“Would you like to have another round?” Luna asked, Tamashi re-appearing at her side, and her tail giving a playful flick.

“Certainly. And stop coddling me,” Iridia mirrored Luna’s amused tone. “I know you should have had me at least five times in that first round.”

“Seven,” Luna corrected, a mischievous twinkle in her eye. “But who is counting?”

Trixie was not a fool.

This was important, because although she’d made mistakes and been made to look like a fool on many occasions, she was not one. It was hard to stay a fool with a mother as demanding as the late Countess of Gallopton. Or six sisters vying for their mother’s limited attention.

They could marry fools, and that had been the fate of all but Trixie’s younger sister. A stallion was there to look pretty, provide strong foals, and that was about it, as far as their mother was concerned. Trixie shuddered at some of the arranged matches her sisters had suffered, especially that of her eldest sibling. Gallopton was a decently rich area just north of Blatimare, where the family had resided for several generations, and it had been in an effort to preserve and grow their place on the disc that the Countess had all-but sold her foals off.

Lord Parallax, Canterlot’s resident blow-hard and contender for most over-inflated ego with Duke Halcyon Blueblood. Trixie felt pity for her sister, an intelligent, but horribly naive, mare with little of their mother’s ruthless drive.

Countess Belladonna Lulamoon had been a force to contend with in the House of Ladies, often sparring with the upstart Baroness Velvet Sparkle; both figuratively and literally. It had been a duel with the Baroness that had lead to Belladonna’s death.

It was a few years later that Trixie learned the cause of the duel. Belladonna had attempted to arrange a marriage between Trixie and Velvet’s son, an idea Velvet had rebuffed publicly and loudly.

The slight had been too much coming from what, at the time, was a very minor House, though one that every noble knew had caught Celestia’s eye and favour. With recent events, Trixie knew why House Sparkle had been lavished with such attention for so long. She doubted that it would have consoled her mother any.

Still, Trixie had learned from her mother’s lessons, and her mistakes.

She was not a fool.

Since leaving Bridlefalls, a persistent little itch had been at the back of Trixie’s horn. It was an itch Trixie had learned to heed, as it meant trouble was a-hoof. For the first week, Trixie had increased her pace, going so far as to have her wagon put onto a flatbed car of a cargo train to cover extra leagues, but no matter how fast or far they travelled, each night the itch came back. She stopped putting on shows, never stayed more than a single night in any one spot, avoided towns, avoided secluded woods and roads; all to no effect.

The only good, if it could be considered such, was that Trixie and Shyara had managed to cross over a third of Equestria in the space of two weeks. She’d have almost been proud if not for the nagging worry that hounded her.

Tired and cranky with the approaching season—Trixie always seemed to be affected early—and dirty from a particularly hard three days of travel, Trixie pulled her wagon to a stop in a decent sized field in a little dell between rolling hills. A line of trees would provide shade in the evening, and a clear pond water that shifted into a large, marshy area on one side. In the distance the low walls of a town could be seen, with an abandoned castle watching from atop a steep rise.

All-in-all as good a place to wait out The Season as any other, especially with an inquisitive filly.

Or, it should have been.

She’d just started to undo the buckles to her harness when the wagon was struck on the side, sending it and her careening across the field. Terror scoured Trixie’s mind clean in those precious moments that she and the wagon hung in the air, suspended on a sliver of time. Shyara’s high pitched screams echoed from the wagon, driving the fear deeper. The screams were followed by a wet squelch as they landed in the reeds of a shallow fen next to the pond, harness crushing the breath from Trixie’s lungs. Silence crashed with the wagon, broken only by the distant cawing of crows and the angry croaking of a toad.

Head spinning, it took Trixie several moments to fully comprehend what had occurred. The wagon, and her, were upside down, and slowly sinking into barrel deep mud. Hoof flailing at the buckles, she struggled to release herself from the straps digging into her back and side. Giving up, Trixie grabbed the buckle with all her telekinetic strength and wrenched it apart, tearing the brass fitting from the wood and dropping her to the water with a splat.

Mud and water soaked into Trixie’s coat as she struggled to right herself, legs kicking and a deep growl rumbling in her throat. It was only as she gathered her bearings and slowly stood that she realised that the silence was only deepening, the murder’s raucous laughter fading as they fled.

Sunk in the fen up to her thighs, Trixie took a couple plodding steps towards the shore, only to stop as settling wood moaned. She stopped, a sharp pang in her side as she looked back at the wreck behind her. Instincts screamed for her to run away and seek shelter in the woods. Something that could hurl a wagon with such ease was not something a pony should fight.

“Shyara…” Trixie whispered the filly’s name, heart twisting as she stood in the middle of the fen, at a loss as whether to run or go back.

Her ears swiveled, searching for the attacker, but a groan followed by a yelp grabbed at Trixie.

“Shyara!” Trixie started back towards the wagon. “Hold on, Trixie is coming.”

While gifted in magic, Trixie was also strong, with a toned physique many earth ponies would envy formed from years pulling her wagon. Teeth barred, Trixie pushed through the cloying, silvery-grey mud.

Even then, it took her far too long to make her way to the wagon’s entrance. In the minute she spent forcing her way through the mud, Trixie became aware of something watching her from the tall grass. She couldn’t make it out fully, other than an indistinct form black as tar.

Keeping an ear on the creature, Trixie grabbed the door with her magic and gave it a sharp tug. Then a second. And a third. All to no avail. The wagon had sunk too far, the door stuck fast.

“Shyara, are you alright?” Trixie called.

A muffled groan and a cough told her that Shyara was still alive, at least for the moment. In the sucking mud and water, kicking the door would prove futile. Leveling her horn at the green painted wood, Trixie formed together the runes for a spell.

“If you can, get back from the door,” was all the warning Trixie gave before launching a stream of telekinetic bursts.

The door took the blows with admiration, Trixie grunting, “Reinforced doors… Never again,” as she reformed the spell.

From the stalking shadow, a sound like the hiss of a steam engine issued forth, reeds rustling as it drew nearer. Trixie tried to put it out of her mind and focus on getting Shyara out of the sinking wreckage. Again and again Trixie’s spell struck the obstinate door until a split formed.

“Trixie… hurry,” Shyara gasped and coughed.

The filly’s words sent new strength through Trixie, sweeping away the multitude of aches in her withers and horn.

Roaring, Trixie brought all the power she could to bear, forming a shimmering blue-white ram of pure force that the door could not resist and almost shattering it in a burst of aether motes. Grabbing the remaining splinters, Trixie yanked them aside and leaned into the wagon, hooves searching for Shyara. She found the filly floating in a field of personal items and debris. There was just enough room for Shyara’s head to be free of the water, what had been the wagon’s bottom crushing down the walls and roof.

Only inches separated them when Trixie was grabbed around the midsection. The tingle of telekinetics rippled through Trixie’s coat before squeezing the air from her in a hissing rush. A rib cracked as she was cast, screaming, into the pond. Stars and icy pain exploded through her as she began to sink, water filling her nose and throat.

In a moment of stark clarity crafted by her terror, Trixie pushed through the pain. Shrouded in a murky cloud of disturbed silt, it took Trixie a heart beat to figure out which way the surface lay. Lungs burning, she burst out of the pond and was greeted by Shyara’s screaming.

Scraping mud from her eyes and hacking up water, it took all Trixie’s training to keep her mind focused, each breath bringing with it a fresh agony

Trixie saw a stranger standing in the reeds, a unicorn cloaked in shadow and menace, oily magic blazing along her horn. Tattered and torn robes hung from the stranger’s lanky frame, identifying her as a Sister. The priestess’ eyes, glowing orbs of wintery blue and filled with a maleficent hunger, regarded Trixie with contempt before shifting to Shyara. Shyara yelled and screamed profanities, her legs kicking and wings beating frantically to escape the stranger’s magic grip.

Drawing on her runes, Trixie formed the illusion of wolf prowling out of the forest and into the reeds. It was a spell she’d used many times before, one that preyed on a pony’s natural fears to strengthen the magic’s hold.

The priestess did not so much as glance at the illusion as it mounted the wagon’s wreckage and snarled. With barely a flick of her own horn, the priestess banished the spell.

“You are a fool, Trixie. You should have run when you were able,” she snarled to herself, each word accompanied by a fresh jolt from her battered ribs. Abandoning subtly, Trixie formed a ram of telekinetic force, bringing it down on the priestess with a squelching boom that sent up a geyser of muddy water.

A slight jolt of magical feedback burrowing through Trixie’s horn warned her that the fight was far from over. Trixie was shocked to find the priestess unharmed as water and mud rained down around them, glowering at her with a dark intent that chilled her marrow. A dark blue shield encapsulated the priestess and Shyara, its edges flickering with oily aether. Trixie had never witnessed a shield form so fast.

Trixie had expected a counter, but not a shield. Within the shield, the priestess could not strike back. Gaining a little more confidence at the priestess’ blunder, Trixie yelled, “I won’t let you have her!”

“Won’t let me?” The priestess laugh, a harsh, raspy sound that grated Trixie’s ears.

Pulling herself towards the shore she searched for something more physical in nature, and found it in one of the wagon’s axles.

With a ringing thud, the axle speared the shield, breaking it into a thousand shards. Anger flashed within those cold eyes as the priestess swatted aside Trixie’s follow-up swing. Trixie clenched her teeth and brought the axle around again, aiming for the priestesses horn. A counter formed in a blast of fire, burning the axle to ash and a brittle rod of coal that crumbled in Trixie’s grip, embers hissing as they fell into the water.

Trixie sagged, mane matted to her face. It was all she could do to stay upright and not collapse back into the water. The disc spun, much of her magic depleted, pain spreading through her sides and back.

The priestess laughed again, and she took a few strides towards Trixie, moving through the fen like she were strolling through a garden.

“You should flee, pony,” she said, eyes flashing. “I have what I was sent to retrieve. Le—”

The priestess’ words ended in a clap of thunder and terrible shriek, a shadow like a sliver of the night colliding with her, sending both itself, the priestess, and Shyara tumbling into the pond. Trixie’s eyes widened as, for a moment, she beheld a field of stars and nebula latched onto the priestess, snarling and howling as it slashed and clawed, only to be struck by the oncoming wave and sucked down beneath the water once more.

In the sunlight that fell like curtains through the water, Trixie spotted Shyara floating upside down a few lengths away, priestess and shade swirling and lashing just beyond, turning the pond into a churning tempest.

Grabbing Shyara, Trixie kicked and dragged them to the shore, coughing and gasping as she reached it’s far side where there was a low rock she could pull herself and Shyara onto.

Near the end of her endurance, Trixie quickly checked Shyara over. The filly stared upwards, and Trixie would have thought her dead if not for the shallow rise and fall of her chest. Blood ran down Shyara’s brow and neck, staining the rock and dripping into the pond where the water turned dark as ink.

With no time to contemplate, Trixie took a deep breath and pushed through the ache spreading throughout her. Rolling Shyara over and up onto her back, Trixie began to crawl towards the trees, the howls and shrieks from behind urging her onwards.

She couldn’t tell who was winning, the pond a swirling froth as the battle raged within. Beneath the foam and turbulent waters came a deep flash of blue and purple, followed by a thud that resonated into Trixie bones and set her teeth rattling. A second flash and thud drove Trixie into the dirt.

Her beastial roar making the nearby trees shudder, the priestess burst out of the pond, the shade still wrapped around her like an ethereal snake. The glen shook as the priestess took a step towards Trixie, enraged eyes fixated on her precious passenger. Magic climbing higher than the treetops, the priestess summoned a sickly green, crescent bladed battleaxe, frost clinging to the metal. Steel flashed in the afternoon sun, followed by a piercing shriek.

A sucking roar. A blinding flash. And the shade fell into two halves; one writhing and screaming, the other still except the occasional twitch as it vanished beneath the still churning waves.

Letting all the surrounding lands know of her victory with a guttural bellow, the priestess marched like a mare possessed towards Trixie.

“Who? What, are you?” Trixie croaked, pulling Shyara closer.

The priestess smiled, axe hovering over her shoulder. Her bones clicked and clacked as she walked towards Trixie, her left-foreleg clearly broken in three places. The priestess took no notice of her wounds, relentless in her approach.

“I am Doshaa, spawn of Tirak the Endless Maw and Witiko the Eternal Wrath, and I was going to let you live, pony, to spread word of our return and sow the seeds of terror. But, you have tried my patience too far, and so, you will die.”

“A demon…” Trixie sagged a little in defeat.

Perhaps, a last, foolish act, then, Trixie thought to herself. If she was going to die, and Trixie hardly had the strength to move, let alone fight, she could at least try to live up to the legends and stories she’d spun over the years. Yes, she would be a fool.

“Trixie is not afraid of you, monster,” she snarled, dragging herself and Shyara a few more hoof lengths away. “Trixie has faced down an Ursa Major. With these hooves, she retrieved the Midnight Crown of Princess Luna. Trixie… She… I…”

Her voice drifted off, no more proud words of defiance dancing from her tongue.

“You are a liar,” Doshaa snorted, lowering her face so it was mere inches from Trixie’s. Her breath was foul, a mixture of sulfur and rot, and her eyes glassy and dead behind the blue glow. “A small, bitter, petty creature that burns with envy. And that would almost save you, if you’d not annoyed me so.”

Doshaa placed a cracked hoof on Trixie’s throat.

“She is not bitter nor petty, though she is a little small, it’s true,” retorted another in a voice so accented and rolling that Trixie had trouble making out the words.

Doshaa spun to face the newcomer, and in that moment, Trixie struck. Grabbing a jagged rock, Trixie stabbed Doshaa in the eye. The possessed priestess screamed, hooves scraping at the stone jutting from her face, and fell backwards into the pond. Trixie held her breath, expecting the pony to return again, only for the water to at last grow still.

Sagging in relief, Trixie turned her head to the side to see the newcomer. She made out a tall figure standing above them, the sun at his back so that he was barely an impression within the light.

The newcomer jumped down the hill, leaping over the reeds, droplets of water sparkling in a tinkling cloud around him. Sunlight flashed from steel tipped prongs, and then he landed at Trixie’s side. From her position on the rock, Trixie got a view of the newcomer as he set about peering into the murky pond.

He was not a pony.

That was all Trixie could tell as the fog of exhaustion settled on her mind.

The rocks were rather comfortable, Trixie found, laying her head down next to Shyara. She was only vaguely aware of hooves stamping around her and three hundred new shadows stretching over her battered form.

On a blissful haze, the disc drifted away.

How long she hovered on that cloud, Trixie was not sure. A minute? A day? It was all the same. After a period both immeasurably short and longer than all Trixie’s years, she became aware of a voice, and a dark pegasus waiting next to the wreckage of her wagon. Though his countenance and visage were grim, he put Trixie at ease.

Hooves grabbed her face, shaking away the fog, banishing the stranger, and pulling Trixie back to the disc.

“Don’t go! You can’t fail me too,” Shyara pressed her head against Trixie, making the showmare give a weak grin. “Come on, you fool, stay with me.”

“Trixie… is not a fool,” she countered in a low, wheezing breath that sounded nothing like her usual voice.

“Move aside, child, let me see her,” interjected another, and Shyara was pulled aside.

Sunlight and gold flashed before Trixie’s eyes, blinding her to the new voice. Hooves, gentle but firm, ran across Trixie’s barrel and stomach. In their wake was left a warmth that tickled and soothed.

Blinking away her blindness, Trixie caught a white face, with big brown eyes pinched with concentration, and antlers decked in gold tags. Amber magic danced along the stranger’s antlers like fey fire, accompanied by a gentle crackle of molding aether.

“Well,” Trixie stated, attempting to push herself upright, only to collapse, and this time truly fall into an exhausted sleep.

Book resting on her barrel, Fluttershy drifted in a hazy repose. Worries for Twilight, Pinkie, and Rainbow occasionally surfaced, a back hoof twitching to kick the thoughts away. A few of her songbirds nestled in the crook between her wings and body, almost like they were nesting, chirping the last refrains of the song Fluttershy had hummed while tending to the flowers around her home.

Everything was as right with the disc as possible.

In the peaceful, cool breeze, Fluttershy imagined the party Pinkie would throw when her friends returned. There would be streamers and balloons, naturally, and a big cake. Fluttershy pictured gathering with her friends in Applejack’s barn. Big Mac would be there, of course, wearing the vest he’d inherited from his father and that he only wore on really special occasions. Fluttershy would find her courage, and ask him for a dance, and of course he’d say yes.

A smile spread across Fluttershy’s muzzle, a happy moan parting her lips as she fell deeper into the daydream.

After the dance, they’d go for a walk beneath Twilight’s stars. They’d sit, for a time, she leaning on his shoulder, him gazing up at Selene. It’d be the most perfect, best night ever.

A wonderful dream, hummed a voice in Fluttershy’s ear, making her crack open an eye.

“W-Who’s there?” She lifted her head, but saw nopony, only her little animal friends.

Shrugging, Fluttershy lowered her head back onto Mr. Bear’s shoulder, assuming it had been her imagination.

The large bear hadn’t left her home in days, sleeping in the shade cast by her cottage. Fluttershy suspected something was wrong with the big softie as he usually prefered staying in Whitetail Wood where he could rummage for berries and scoop all the salmon he wanted out of the shallow streams. Since she’d returned home he hadn’t left the cottage, often trying to follow her inside. At night he slept beneath her window, his low huffs and growls filtering up to her.

Can you hear me?

There was no mistaking that somepony had spoken, Fluttershy darted upright, scanning the midday shadows for the speaker. The birds nestled against her cried out, flapping up into the cottage’s branches. Still, she saw nopony.

“What…”

Oh, this is amazing! You can hear me, at last! An excited squeal followed the exclamation. Although, I am uncertain if that is good or bad…

Turning in a quick circle, Fluttershy looked for the speaker, but saw nothing. Stretching her neck up, and using a couple, quick beats of her wings to lift herself up further, Fluttershy peered over Mr. Bear’s back to no avail.

My apologies, dear Fluttershy, but you won’t be able to see me.

“W-Why?” Fluttershy shivered, dropping back down and pressing herself against Mr. Bear.

I’m… I’m inside you… the voice admitted with what could have been an embarrassed cough.

“Inside me?” Fluttershy’s eyes grew to the size of saucers, her head naturally tracking down to her belly.

No, not like that! The voice grew a little frantic. Though, I truly wish that was the answer. No, I’m in… Well, your heart? Maybe your head? I’m not so certain, to be honest…

“Oh.” Ears falling flat, Fluttershy gave a little whimper.

Don’t worry! Everything will be okay… I think… Maybe… Okay, probably not. But we can try to figure this out, right? I mean… We should be able to…

“You’re… um, like Athena? The pony inside Fleur?”

Silence.

A tense knot formed in Fluttershy’s stomach, her tail snapping through the short grass. Had she said something wrong? Was the voice all in her imagination?

Yes. Just like Athena. I’m sorry, regret weighed down the voice, almost pulling Fluttershy down into the grass. I let my fear for Tyr overwhelm me, and now… Well, no sense crying over lost souls, my father always said. And, things could be worse. I think. Maybe. I am alive… sort of? Well, you’re alive, and I’m in you, so I’m alive? Is that how this works? I should have asked… Well, nevermind. Nothing for it now but to get me out of you and set things right. We should have time before we become too intertwined.

Fluttershy was lost. Completely, hopelessly, and utterly lost.

I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I’m making things worse. Um, how about I start at the beginning, yes?

Slowly, Fluttershy nodded and said, “O-Okay.”

I’m Artemis, Goddess of the Wilds. Or I was? No, I still am… Pretty sure I am, anyways… Sorry, getting side-tracked again. So, yes, I’m Artemis. Hello.

There was a pause, into which Fluttershy returned the greeting and waved a hoof, feeling a little silly.

“We’ll, it’s—”

“Hey, Fluttershy!”

Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle’s shrill voices burst from behind Fluttershy. At once, she, her heart, and Mr. Bear all leapt several hooflengths into the air.

Clutching a hoof to her chest to help still her racing heart, Fluttershy gave the fillies an almost disapproving not-quite glare.

“Girls, you frightened me.” She very nearly had an edge to her voice, the mere hint of anger enough to make Scootaloo and Sweetie wilt.

“We’re sorry,” they solemnly intoned together.

“It’s just, Apple Bloom’s been staying later with Zecora to make up for the time she lost with her studying flowers and mud while we were in Canterlot. We’ve not been able to do any good crusading since we got back,” Scootaloo grumbled, earning an admonishment from Sweetie.

“It’s important to her, Scootaloo,” Sweetie rolled her eyes.

Crossing her hooves, Scootaloo huffed, “Well, I just wish she’d hurry up. Mom and Dad promised to get us milkshakes.”

“You’re just still perturbed by those new zebras in town,” Sweetie snickered, elbowing Scootaloo in the ribs.

“Am not! Even though they’re ten different roads to Creepyville. And what’s ‘perturbed’?”

“Excuse me, girls,” Fluttershy interjected, “but, what new zebras?”

The fillies shared a look, then said together, “The new zebras staying at the inn.”

“They’ve been asking around town about Twilight, and Zecora, and stuff.” Scootaloo crinkled her muzzle.

Sweetie nodded, adding, “Yeah. The one who does the talking isn’t so bad… But her companion, what was her name, Scootaloo?”

A shrug from Scootaloo was followed with, “Why the hay do you think I would remember? It was foreign and weird and I don’t like them.” She snorted, and made to spit, but seeing the disgust that flashed across Fluttershy’s face, swallowed instead. “Anyways, there’s AB now.”

Scootaloo pointed, and sure enough, Apple Bloom was trotting out of the Everfree without a care in the world, whistling a happy tune to herself. After the typical friendly ribbing and jesting, the three departed, waving good-bye to Fluttershy and Mr. Bear.

They are so… similar. If I did not know it were impossible, I would believe them to be the Muses in disguise, Artemis hummed. More importantly, this Zecora, she may be the answer to our problem.

“She could be?”

Indeed. I see in your memories she is a powerful witch. Well, shaman, rather. Though, what’s the difference? Other than—nevermind. Important part is that she might be able to separate us. We shall go see her at once!

“Oh, no, not at once,” Fluttershy gave her head a vigorous shake followed by a meek apology. “I mean, the Everfree is going to be really dangerous and Zecora doesn’t like to be disturbed this time of year and the critters need me and I think it best we wait and think this over. That’s all.” Fluttershy was gasping by the end of her little rant.

Artemis was silent.

Well, she began, then trailed off and with a cough that echoed between Fluttershy’s ears, again said, Well, and nothing more for some minutes.

“We’ll go… after the Season. How about that?” Fluttershy mumbled as she stretched and started towards the chicken coops.

Sooner would be better, sighed Artemis, But if you feel more comfortable waiting, so be it. Don’t wait too long, though.

Where most found the gentle, rhythmic roll of a ship comforting, Fleur existed in a state of perpetual anxiety. Locked away in her tiny room, no bigger than her closet back home, she tried every trick, technique, and tool to master the tremors that ran from her hooves to the tip of her horn. Alone and almost forgotten, with her entire body aching, Fleur found even the most mundane tasks a challenge. Sleep was near impossible, and if not for the doctor with his drops of laudanum to sooth the constant prickling of her nerves, she’d have perished for certain.

Or, as near as certain as Fleur could be, for there was the slight matter of her passenger.

Fleur had no other way to think of Athena, the stow-away slowly eating at her sanity and soul.

Days earlier Athena had started to speak to Fleur, whispering in her ear. If she had not already been aware of her presence, Fleur would have assumed herself mad.

It had been when Athena first spoke that Fleur forced herself from her room, using a double-dose of fortifying laudanum to calm the screaming of her nerves and skin, and out onto the deck.

And, no sooner had she spotted Twilight when Ophelia fell overboard, and Fleur’s resolve crumbled like lose stonework in a tremor.

Retreating once more below decks, Fleur let opportunity after opportunity slip through her grasp, remaining silent of the growing voice in her head.

On top of the roll of the ship, Athena’s growing presence, and the idea of the fathomless water below, waiting to swallow her and suck her down into an infinite black, cold, suffocating death, there was the matter of the cannons.

For days and nights on end, ever since the weather had cleared and the stars began to lessen their dances, Captain Hardy had been putting the gun crews through their paces. While the guest cabins, being above the gun decks, were not cleared away for action like the rest of the ship, the planking underhoof could do little to mute the bangs and thumps, the groans of disappointment when a crew missed the targets rowed out, nor their roars of triumphs when they scored a hit.

With wax balls wedged in her ears, Fleur grew more and more tense as the cannons fired, one-by-one, until the cannon directly beneath her cot banged and the cabin jittered and groaned.

After a week of such exercises, Fleur’s nerves had reached their end, and either she had to break or overcome.

It is not as if failing to inform Twilight of my growing presence alters anything, Athena remarked as Fleur found herself once more at the door that led to the open deck, a hoof resting just above the handle. They were too timid to remove me when I was far weaker and in the seat of their power. There is nothing they can do now. Our fate is intertwined, you and I, Fleur de Lis the Timid.

“Je ne suis pas timide.”

Fleur took a deep breath, settled the wrenching in chest and legs, and did nothing. She just stood there, staring at the painted wood. A creak and sudden lurch as a running wave lifted the Bellerophon’s stern sent Fleur skittering back a couple lengths towards her tiny cabin. There she gasped and panted, breaths coming in shallow gulps as she flicked the hoof that had been resting on the door. It felt dirty and wrong. Stamping it a few more times cleared some of the unwelcome crawling, but not all.

Not timid, indeed, snorted Athena. How is it that you, of all ponies, had the most compatible spirit to house my greatness?

Leaning up against the door to her cabin, Fleur had no answer.

Regardless, this dithering is no longer amusing.

Following Athena’s declaration, a supernatural calm fell over Fleur. She blinked a couple of times. Fleur was aware that she should have been, at the very least, concerned about Athena’s intentions, but she was not. For the first time since leaving Baltimare, with the great vastness of the sea stretched out before her, Fleur felt at peace.

“What have you done?” Fleur asked as she pushed herself from the bulkhead.

I simply granted you the wisdom to see the flaws in your fears. There was a slight uptick to Athena’s voice, almost like she were smiling.

Trotting onto the ship’s deck like she were in her own home, Fleur snorted and rolled her eyes. “Should I be concerned that you can control my emotions with such ease?” she asked, drawing several looks from those nearby.

This is… Athena paused to grunt, a flicker of amusement rippling through Fleur at the mental image of a ghostly alicorn struggling to hold back a red tidal wave of fears that popped into her head. More difficult than it seems.

“Then why?” Fleur turned in a small circle, looking for Twilight and spotting the princess near the starboard rail with the captain.

Am I helping? Athena finished Fleur’s thought. It is better than having you stare at a bare beam for another month.

Putting the contempt Athena oozed out of her mind, Fleur crossed the deck. She paused, and slid to the side, not wanting to interrupt, and naturally the conversation drifted towards Fleur.

“This damnable griping when shes in a following sea has become a bother,” Hardy huffed, gazing out over the ocean to the wonderfully puffy cloud hovering in the near-distance. “It’s my fault for rushing the stowage. Her trim is all wrong and she doesn’t like being so heavy by the stern. I’m certain that is the answer, and if we’d raised the St. Pansies, I know we would have sorted it all out.”

“The St. Pansies? I don’t think I’ve heard of them,” Twilight commented over a cup of tea and toasted cheese sandwiches.

“Oh, prettiest little islands you can imagine. Flat, very flat, and hard to see until you’re almost on the shoals and reefs that surround them. You won’t find them on most maps, as they are home only to birds and lizards, and well outside the usual trade lanes. But well founded in cactus and fresh water. It had been my plan to anchor in the bay of the larger isle and wait on shore while the Season passed with the other stallions. Sadly, the trades have been late this year and we are a good day short. Won’t see them until near nightfall, if the wind doesn’t back or pick up.” The captain chuckled and sighed in the same breath.

Into that gap, Fleur went to make her presence known. At the same moment she opened her mouth to speak, a strong hail tore across the deck, drowning Fleur out.

“Debris! A big field of it ahead and stretching to larboard, sir.”

Ears falling flat, Fleur could feel Athena’s laughter as orders and stamping hooves created an impenetrable din of noise. Sails were reefed, and the ship’s course altered to the south. Dozens of hooves went to the rails, seamares jostling to get a better view while making room for the officers, Twilight, and Fleur.

Without hesitation, Fleur glanced over the side and looked down on a large patch of water containing the floating remains of a ship. There was no doubt it had been a ship, with the few bobbing masts, and sheer quantity of barrels and bodies.

So many bodies.

Hundreds of them covered the sea, forming a sifting carpet. There was a complete lack of life, not even the usual scavengers or predators present. This was a place of death alone. The breeze wafting across the ship carried with it a rotten odor, like the wretched breath of an ancient dragon.

“Celestia, Luna, and Twilight,” muttered a crewmare beside Fleur.

“Poor sods,” said another. “What happened to ‘em? Pirates?”

Jill Place, the oldest mare aboard, shook her scraggly mane. “No, lass, this ain’t no pirate work.” She pointed to a spar, bobbing along just below the surface, long gashes along its length like a monumental bear had used it as a scratching post. “That was not done by no pirate that ever roamed the seas. This is a draconequus’ playground, make no mistake.”

Low mutters broke out at Jill’s proclamation, a few looking to the officers to refute the old seamare. None did, however. They just stared at the flotsam, with growing looks of dread or disgust.

“A survivor! Look, that one’s moving!”

A burst of activity followed the proclamation. Calls for the doctor to be retrieved, a boat to be lowered and sent off to retrieve the supposed survivor, and all the while Fleur stood next to Twilight without a thought of speaking to the princess about Athena. Her attention had been captured as completely as that of the crew. An entire fleet could have snuck up on the Bellerophon with no pony the wiser until the deadly first broadside was cast.

Stretching like champions, aware that all their mates eyes were upon them, the group in the jolly boat raced out and back. Slinging a rope from the mainsail yardarm, the survivor was winched aboard like a sack of flour.

“Give her space,” Timely commanded the moment the poor mare was set on deck.

A gasp, like the dry croak of a toad, and the survivor grabbed Timely by the leg. She looked up at him with bloodshot eyes.

“Leviathan, she has arisen! Leviathan, Leviathan,” the mare cried over and over, gripping the doctor’s leg, her eyes wild and unfocused, rolling into the back of her head. She gasped, “Leviathan,” once more, and was dead.

Seamares and officers alike made symbols and whispered prayers to Twilight, Luna, Celestia, and Faust.

Leviathan? Athena echoed the name, a slight tremble in her voice. That is impossible. She and all her ilk are contained beneath Tartarus. It can not be true… It simply can not…

“‘Her scales are as granite, harder than the millstones bottom. When She rose up, the mighty queens were terrified; they fell back from Her thrashing. Coals poured from Her open mouth, turning the courtyard to be as Ioka’s fiery blood. ‘You summon your own doom,’ spake She, dismay spread with a flick of Her flaming tongue. The queens spears and swords had no effect upon Her, and their magic failed them utterly. Thrice She wrapped Her coils about the isle, and Thrice did the queens plead for Her mercy. ‘Mercy, I have not, for I am Leviathan, and I am naught but Envy.’

“Spirited from the isles, Renewal and Harmony watched as Marelantis was swallowed. Iridia refused to look away, Faust placed her head upon Bellerophon’s breast; they wept for the death of so much.”

Every pony present looked to Twilight as the princess recited the words taken from the Book of Spring. Dread gripped the ship, but none felt it more keenly than Fleur, amplified as it was by the tremors coming from Athena.

Comments

[BarrenBaron]

Time for another round of: ANNOYING! POST-CHAPTER! COMMENTARY!

Did Iridia really turn approx 1/6(1/7? I forget the number) of her daughter's soul into a cool pommel? Also, what is the Tuilerya crest? Is it one of the inserted images you use? And is it just me, or did Iridia and Luna's talk seem a bit... emotionally manipulative to me? I didn't get the feeling the talk would've played out anything similar had Iridia not brought up a few of Luna's weak points (Cadence, the past, how much they USED to be a nice family).

Is that a halla (sorry if I forgot the species name) that helped Trixie? And is she part of the herd going to Canterlot? And what is Athena's plan? As it seems to me she's plotting.

[Obsidian]

And now we start to diverge majorly from the first drafts... I wonder how the demons are going to start fitting into all this...

[Tulip]

As pleasing as this chapter was. Id like to go further with the plot.

[Voldine]

Feces, meet Fan. Fan, Feces. You two get nice and friendly, now, because I have a feeling you'll be even closer to each other soon.

[Aatxe360]

Isn't Rainbow also pregnant? That would also attribute her sickness as well.

Applejack is still the least remarked upon.

[Dagon M Dragoon]

24.media.tumblr.com/8535a906fb81c0687cf1d53f24e9f1c1/tumblr_n0hxvvtJkZ1sqry8zo1_500.png

[NeedsGroup]

I'm continually impressed by your mastery of archaic nautical parlance. Something to keep in mind, however:

...Twilight sat behind the rosewood desk, ears laid back and glaring at the, temporary, captain of her personal guard.

There is only one captain aboard a naval vessel. It is tradition that anyone who holds the land-forces rank of 'captain,' such as a marine, is properly addressed as 'Major' while embarked. If another officer who holds the naval rank of captain, but is not the commanding officer of the vessel he or she is aboard, that officer is addressed by his or her title (Commander, Air Group; Executive Officer; et cetera), or simply 'Commodore.' It’s also one of the more practical traditions, as it helps to avoid confusion in the chain of command.

[G S tol Kriaal]

So I noticed that you never actually say what Ophelia's mark is

chewing Twilight out as politely and differentially as possible.

I think you mean "deferentially"
You also missed an r in "sparring" a couple times

[Uzume Tennouboshi]

So, Twilight saved Ophelia from drowning. In spite of what the crew thinks, especially Polished Armour, I think if Twilight hadn't acted when she did, Ophelia would have drowned.

Luna finally got to spar with an opponent who knew how to handle a sword when she took on Iridia.

So far, this is a pretty lighthearted chapter, aside from the part where Iridia implied that she found Chrysalis and finished her off in her broken state.

*reads the part with Trixie and Shyara*

Seriously, holy crap. That was one twisted Sister! And she's the spawn of Tirek...a reference to the Season 4 finale, perhaps? Anyhow, if it hadn't been for that Halla showing up to help them, Trixie would be dead, and who knows what would have happened to Shyara.

Taking a break from the interaction of feces and fan to see Fluttershy and Artemis make first contact. And in spite of Artemis suggesting they see Zecora right away, Fluttershy wants to wait. Something tells me by the time the Season is over, it might be a little too late.

Back to the Bellerophon, and Athena has had enough of Fleur being scared of the sea, and has given her some clarity about how silly her fear is. But then they come out on deck, and once again the feces hit the fan with debris of a destroyed ship, which could not have been the work of pirates! And this Leviathan must really be bad news, if even Athena was scared when she heard that name!

Seriously, this chapter contained quite a lot of Mood Whiplash! All I can say is, keep it up!

[ChakatFirepaw]

4823730
Actually, that isn't universally true. For instance: The Royal Navy of the Age of Sail didn't use the practice of courtesy promotions. The commander of the Royal Marines on board a ship was even called the Captain of Marines, (meaning that there were often two 'captains' on board each ship)..

[Voidedstory]

4822792 They don't know that, and we haven't had an AJ section yet, so hold your horses.

But we get to see Fluttershy, so whee! And better justification for the two of them to have stuck together for so long. I'm fully expecting the next 'Shy section to be of Mac asking her out, with the next presumably being when Artemis wishes to pass her godhood to Fluttershy.

4822157 The first instance of asking about Cadance was most likely to throw Luna off guard, but I don't see anything but genuine and mutual concern the next time Iridia asks luna, pretty much because they're both in the same boat.

And yeah, that probably is a halla. Part of the traveling herd? Most likely, thought it didn't sound like it was Velvet's daughter.

Yay, Athena isn't quite as friendly! Well, she isn't first story-antagonistic yet, but it's clear that she's not overly interested in keeping both herself and Fleur alive, which is a step in the right direction, IMO. (To be more specific, she's starting to see it more as a contest and wanting to keep it somewhat fair while still trying to win, as opposed to Artemis wanting to keep parity between herself and Fluttershy but keenly aware that she would most likely crowd out Flutters in the end if Sirius's Fall doesn't occur this time.

[Tundara]

4824426

Mood whiplash? Ha, this chapter, more than many others, echoes my own moods and thoughts. Stupid bi-polar-ism-ness. But yeah, it whips back and forth. Kind of appropriate given the chapter title. Which only came about at the last moment.

4823945

I had... at one point. It must have been removed at some point while shifting parts of the scene around by mistake. Her mark was supposed to be a sextant beneath three stars (Orion's belt).

4823730

To be fair, Weathered is a Captain in the guard, not the navy. Much like Twi and company, she's not part of the normal operation of the ship and dines in the wardroom with the other officers. Polished being a Captain in rank is, well, incorrect, yeah. It was for simplicity more than anything, to avoid such things as 'He's Captain of the Marines, but a Major? I'm confused'. Makes things easier for the readers... so long as I don't have to have Hardy and Polished addressed at the same time.

I try, but a lot of my knowledge comes from sailing on a cutter rigged West Sail 32, and reading historical novels and a few biographies of Nelson. One of my problems is that I both love and loath writing the naval portions. There is an understanding that resides in the back of my head that I am pretty much mimicing what far more versed authors have written, and I am naturally making many mistakes.

4822995

4822792

Applejack doesn't have a huge role in the story, no. At present my only plans for her involve just repeating the conversation she had with Derpy and then the dinner (though there may be issues with the dinner sequence). I passed the point of critical story thread mass long ago, and concessions have to be made. Having very little of Applejack is simply the price. I can't rule out no new AJ stuff, but on my list of story arcs to deal with, she's rather low on the list.

4822669 4822591

4822337

So would I. When trying to come up with titles for the chapter, my original was 'In Which the Author Naval Gazes For Far Too Long.'

4822264

The diversion grows sharply for Twilight here. The end goal is still, roughly, the same. Ie, Twi, Fleur and Faust in Zebrica with Dash and Pinkie, but how they get to that point will have some drastic changes.

4822157

No, Iridia did not use 1/7th of Namyra's soul in the construction of Gram. The gem ties into future chapters of Velvet's side-story.

[Tundara]

4824540

So... I was right? *sigh* This is what I get for having less of a back-bone than most jelly fish.

I can't say with any authority that the Royal Navy would do it X, Y, or Z. I draw on historical novels, mainly, as more 'sources' for the period. Particularly those of Patrick O'Brian. Shoot, Hardy and Timely are pretty much copies of O'Brian's Aubrey and Maturin, as a way of tipping my hat to O'Brian. That, and I can't think of a ship's captain nor doctor acting in any other manner, I've read the Aubrey series so many times. Any other form or general personality seems almost blasphemous. That said, I do go out of my way to make changes. Timely is in no way connected to Intelligence work, nor Trotalonia or a hypothetical Ireland equivalent, for example.

Any ways, regardless of whether or not the Captain of the Marines in the Royal Navy of Nelson's period was a captain in rank or not, Polished has been established as such, and I shall stick to it.

[BarrenBaron]

4824662 Kind ironic how alike her niece she is in that way (albeit her niece usually has good intentions for doing it)

[Uzume Tennouboshi]

4822591

[Aatxe360]

4824662

I understand.

[ChakatFirepaw]

4824705
Well, it's more: You could be right or wrong, depending on the navy and the era, (both the RCN and the USN have changed their practice on this point a couple of times). Hmmm... I wonder who gets to decide how the Equestrian Navy of the Myths and Birthrights setting handles ranks[1]?

Even if they do use the tradition of courtesy promotions, commodore and major are generally used only as a form of address. If you are talking about someone it would still be proper to say things like "he is the captain of her guard" even if he was being addressed as "Major Scabbard".

[1] And there are far more questions than simply "do they use courtesy promotions to avoid confusion?" For instance, "is a commander who is in command of a ship addressed as captain?" or "do they use the post-Captain system and does that mean there are a bunch of admirals without benefit of squadron?" Of course, the first question about any of this for the writer is "which of these questions matter?"

[whizzball1]

Is this Faust? Or is it that other monster I can't remember the name of? Or are they both the same[/spolier]? My memory fails me.

-Spirit

[Tundara]

4825107

If you mean the shade; that was Astraea protecting Shyara. Otherwise, this chapter does have, I believe, the first direct mention of Faust by name, rather than her title of Namegiver.

[Tundara]

4825045

They use the post-Captain system. That is something I've settled on.

The Equestrian Navy is administered by the Naval Department, centred out of Admiralty House in Canterlot. I've been slowly building up the Admiralty for some time. Melee Sophia Lulamoon (Trixie's aunt) is the Admiral of the White (the Home Fleet). Jib Sail is First Sea Lord, and so-on. At present I have positions (though not names for the ponies in the positions) for the Admiralty and the three fleets. White is the Home Fleet, Red the Marelantian Fleet, and Blue for the Far Fleet.

[Tundara]

4825011

I wish I could give her a bigger role, I really do. I'm trying to tighten things into three 'areas'; The Bellerophon, Ponyville, and the Heartlands. Zubu and Gilda are taking a bit of a back seat until I finish Book One's arcs and probably wont re-appear until early into Book Two when I tack back towards the previously written story and make the attempt at tying the pre and post revision stuff together so I can 'lose' as little as possible. Having a Ponyville focus for the remainder of Book One does give opportunity to use more Applejack, but I can't make any promises at this juncture.

Sorry.

[whizzball1]

4825215 I meant the Leviathan.

[Tundara]

4825579

Ah! Sorry, I misinterpreted. Leviathan isn't Faust, and the monster I believe you are thinking of wont be showing up, at least not in the same manner.

[kajisora]

Ohh, I like what the rewrite is doing for trixie. I can see how her counterpart became a legendary hero.

As for the Bellepheron's situation...
Alestorm says it way better than I can at 3 am

Leviathan!
Cresting the waves,
Leading us all to the grave.
Leviathan!
Slaying all foes,
who dare to oppose!
Tearing bodies limb from limb,
Eviscerating on a whim!

[Joural]

4822157

I believe the Halla are either Deer or Elk, though I can't recall which.

And it might be, but the white face and wings leads me to believe it is a gryphon. Or there might have been multiple others- you never do know with these things.

[Honey Mead]

4827056
Twilight's parents have no canon name, and Cadence is Luna's daughter because the author says so.

[Tundara]

4827274

Ha! Beat you to the reply! Also, there is the no established name for Twi's parents thing, yes... So, half points to you!

[Admiral Q Ponyform]

4827268 but why change his name and not her mother's. that is the thing that irk's me. I know this is AU, and I over all don't mind the mother daughter thing but would like it explained how in story.

[StormyVenture]

A well written chapter, even if I'm not so sure about this whole rewrite/revision/? thing. I'm going to have to cross check them some time just to see what changed/was written differently.

This wasn’t that the other tribes hated water—though many did—rather, the wild currents of magic flowing from the sea played havoc with their senses. Moody and miserable, all Rainbow could manage was a little bread and water.

I think you should replace 'that' with 'because'. It sound very odd to the ear as it is. Either that or the the sentence should start with 'It', because the whole construct 'This wasn't that' sounds odd.

Twilight soon discovered that forever being in her debt meant Ophelia became something of a second shadow. Whenever Ophelia wasn’t on duty the filly followed and waited on Twilight. Her cherubic face shone with delight, especially when that night she discover her mark, a sextant in bronze with three small stars above.

Maybe it's just me, but shouldn't it be 'that being forever'. I also think that 'had become' sounds better (more appropriate?) than 'became' in this context. I think it has something to do with tense, and the latter half of that statement feels like it should be in the past tense to me. The former part I'm not so sure about. I can understand something like 'would soon discover' which implies future-ness, but in this case there seems to be an odd cross between the present/near future, 'soon', and the recent past, 'discovered'. That last 'discover' should be 'discovered', at least for the way the sentence is constructed. Of course that sentence sounds a bit odd too, as though you are talking about the future before it has even happened. The verb 'shone' is in the present tense, but that night is future to the present time. -- Sorry if I'm rambling a bit, I hope what I just wrote makes sense. It is 2am after all...

Gram’s tip dropped, resting on the floor as Iridia crossed the short divide. With a clang, the sword fell the rest of the way, Iridia extending a wing and hoof in an offer to hug. Luna stared past her, a low, morse laugh working its way up her throat.

That sentence sounds very strange. I think it's because there are multiple subjects/objects/? present in it. The reader sort of has to infer or guess to whom the hug is being offered and the sword's location/position isn't certain. Do you mean a 'hoarse' (sudden dryness of mouth/throat) laugh or perhaps a 'morose' (sad, depressed?) one?

[NeedsGroup]

4824705,
4824540

My apologies. I was under the impression that the custom was a holdover from the Royal Navy, which is embarrassing, because I've been repeating that as a fact for quite some time. Actually, until about ten minutes ago, I would have sworn that there was a reference to the practice in a history of the Battle of Trafalgar I once read.

Come to think of it, maybe the book, itself was wrong. I always thought its description of Admiral Nelson was a little suspect; I'm fairly certain that he wasn't an obese Asian woman--and I'm positive he wasn't fighting the Klingons. Perhaps I can find solace in those immortal words that flew from Victory's masts at 11:45 on that fateful day, "NO FAT CHICKS."

I'm going to stop now, because I suspect I'm only amusing myself--and possibly infuriating my British friends. In all seriousness, though, I do apologize, it was an honest mistake.

I'll try to refrain from giving out blatantly untrue "facts" from now on.

[Admiral Q Ponyform]

4831854 When both Luna AND Cadance disagree with you, you should really rethink your idea. Tyr now has a legitiment gripe against Celestia and again the sad part is in many fanfics Celestia always seems to make this choice. The prime example is Past Sins. Ijn that Story Celestia has the best of intentions trying to see if Nyx would become a threat. But you can't ignore the fact she takes a child from a parent and ends up making her worse fear come true. Now note. Zeus AND Hades are looking for them. how will they feel seeing what Celestia has done to Tyr?

Celestia there is other options. You now have several Alicorns that can teach her your ways without resorting to that move.

[Tundara]

4832073

Well, since (it seems that) you haven't read the original version where Zeus came across Tyr, I won't spoil his reaction.

Celestia's decision to foster Tyr has been the subject of some debate over the story's life. My position has been always that she is doing what she believes is right based on her past experiences. A Dream of Pride and Envy, while not required reading in any way, shape, or form, does show why Celestia would make the decision she did in regards to Tyr, while Cadence and Luna opposing it, but not stopping Celestia, is tied into their own history and back-story.

I didn't want this to be a black and white decision and event. It's supposed to make people think and wonder, and seeing where people fall on whether Celestia was right or wrong has been interesting.

[Admiral Q Ponyform]

4832514 The foster does have a use but only in the right situation. It worked with Twilight because they did when she was a baby. Tyr is where it goes black. At a certain point it should no longer be an option. Frankly Celestia's decision has weak support and even she knows this. But overall this is a disturbing trend i keep seeing in fanfics of Celestia doing the wrong thing with the best of intentions. i know she needs to be seen as not perfect but come on, she should be smart enough not to make these moves or notice like in this story that Luna and Cadance, both who have issues with eachother in this universe both steadfast agree not to do something. Then as a wise ruler she should be going. 'okay take a step back.' Even look at the situation. Twilight just awoke to her true self and has just been shown that some REALL important crap hwas hidden from her and then Tyr who despite the revelations on how alicorns ruled where she lived had done nothing to warrent the Foster and with 3 Alicorns around would be able to teach her the ways of this world and their values. But nope she just gave Tyr a reason to hate her and make a wedge between her and sister and niece.

it's not just you it more of the fact that many author's make Celestia do these things that gets irksome after a while.

[Honey Mead]

4832597

But overall this is a disturbing trend i keep seeing in fanfics of Celestia doing the wrong thing with the best of intentions.

This isn't a problem with fanfics... it's a problem with people. Everyone does what they think is right based on their own mores and ethics. Celestia is far from the only character to be burdened with such choices; almost every main character is going to do something with the best intentions that will only lead to more heartache. It's a literary device, and you better get used to it now because you will start to notice it in almost every novel/show/movie/play you ever consume.

[Admiral Q Ponyform]

4834871 But in MLP Celestia gets that role more often than not.

[Honey Mead]

4834976
That's because, in MLP, she's the defacto leader(... except when she isn't). So most times, she has the final word, and since she isn't psychic... all she can do is what she thinks is right at the time.

[Leftover of Saikano]

Reading this chapter now. I had been holding back on reading this for a while, waiting for the story to reach it's old point, but I couldn't wait anymore.
I like the way the rewrite has expanded some parts, like the relationship between Luna and Cadance, Twilight and Iridia, and Fancy and Fleur.
Fun fact: here in Latin America, Fancy Pants was voiced by Jesús Barrero, who has as his most famous role Pegasus Seiya, paladin of the goddess Athena.

[djthomp]

I see Polished is continuing to get some character development, which just continues my suspicion that it's to give his eventual pancaking a little more emotional impact. Heh, impact.

Ophelia Navigator, best new OC of the week. Great cutie mark story for her, though it does make me hope that Twilight can find a happy medium between the stars constantly dancing and them never dancing. Scheduled dance times, perhaps? Stellar dance parties with Pinkie in charge of the timing to add a little harmless randomness?

I love the idea of Luna's frequent visits to Moonstone Castle. Nice to see her finding her way in this new world outside of Celestia's shadow.

“It’s the Lust Stone,” Iridia commented. “Drained of all but a memory of it’s magic. I used it to remind me why I fight, and why I reforged the sword.”

Fun duel.

“How do you know? We never located the queen after her defeat.”
Breathing the rage away, Iridia put on a smile that was obviously fake, and said, “No, you wouldn’t have. Let’s not talk of that, though. How—”

Now that just makes me wonder what else Iridia has been up to.

This was important, because although she’d made mistakes and been made to look like a fool on many occasions, she was not one. It was hard to stay a fool with a mother as demanding as the late Countess of Gallopton. Or six sisters vying for their mother’s limited attention.

There we go, I've been expecting a reveal of that sort for a while now.

It was a few years later that Trixie learned the cause of the duel. Belladonna had attempted to arrange a marriage between Trixie and Velvet’s son, an idea Velvet had rebuffed publicly and loudly.

Heh, Trixie Armor, the ship that never even left port. Not sure I've even seen a single story pairing those two.

The filly’s words sent new strength through Trixie, sweeping away the multitude of aches in her withers and horn.
Roaring, Trixie brought all the power she could to bear, forming a shimmering blue-white ram of pure force that the door could not resist and almost shattering it in a burst of aether motes. Grabbing the remaining splinters, Trixie yanked them aside and leaned into the wagon, hooves searching for Shyara. She found the filly floating in a field of personal items and debris. There was just enough room for Shyara’s head to be free of the water, what had been the wagon’s bottom crushing down the walls and roof.

Daaamn, Trixie, not bad. That's the way to live up to your interdimensional counterpart.

Er, and that how to take a beating like your interdimensional counterpart?

The priestess’ words ended in a clap of thunder and terrible shriek, a shadow like a sliver of the night colliding with her, sending both itself, the priestess, and Shyara tumbling into the pond. Trixie’s eyes widened as, for a moment, she beheld a field of stars and nebula latched onto the priestess, snarling and howling as it slashed and clawed, only to be struck by the oncoming wave and sucked down beneath the water once more.

Oooooo, and there's Twilight's counterpart as well. Interesting to see Astraea show up in Trixie’s vicinity given that Trixelion was her champion in the other world (assuming I'm remembering that bit correctly).

Holy crap, it's a demon. That seems bad.

Doshaa spun to face the newcomer, and in that moment, Trixie struck. Grabbing a jagged rock, Trixie stabbed Doshaa in the eye. The possessed priestess screamed, hooves scraping at the stone jutting from her face, and fell backwards into the pond. Trixie held her breath, expecting the pony to return again, only for the water to at last grow still.

Go Trixie! *fist-pump*

Ooooo, this newcomer has antlers? Interesting. With the description given, I feel like he is probably recognizable.

Mr. Bear as a loyal guardian for Fluttershy, bit of a step up from Angel.

Oh my god, the CMC as the Muses.

Fluttershy is totally going to wait too long, isn't she.

Poor Fleur.

A Leviathan? Also bad. And Twilight, there is a time and place for quoting applicable poetry, and I really doubt that was either.

[QuietNightBrony]

While I was reading this, I half thought that the being that saved Trixie would be Scorpan, or at least that is what I thought after reading that the demon attacking Trixie was the daughter of Tirak. And the appearance of Leviathan (or signs of Leviathan's appearance). Makes me want to see the other Devils like Lucifer. The Morning Star vs. the Goddess of the Stars, there is some poetry there.

[Tundara]

4839576

Well, I have Asmodeus, Mephisto, Astaroth, Mammon, Beelzeboul, Belphegor, and Leviathan as the seven kings and queens of the demons. As in proper Greek mythology, Tartarus is a prison, and they are the v.i.p inmates. As the Lord of Tartarus, it's supposed to be Hades job to make sure they don't get out. Clearly, he's not going to get a gold star at his next performance review.

Lucifer would be an Archon within Myths. Probably a Seraph, because I've completely rekajiggered how Elysium and the Archons are organised (ie; Arch-Archon doesn't have a nice ring to it) and what forms they take compared to how the choirs and angels of our angelology our organised. But, as they have yet to make more than a brief mention a chapter ago, my notes and how they are structured have some fluidity still.

[QuietNightBrony]

4839786 Ah, OK. That is nice to know. I was just a little fixated on Lucifer because of the "Morning Star" thing, and how some bible passages refer to him as a dragon (or is that Satan?) and you have used antagonistic dragons in the past (sort of).

Also thoughts of putting stars and dragons together gets me thinking of Spike which leads to thinking of Spike as the new incarnation of Equestria's Lucifer.

And that's enough of my ramblings.

[Alondro]

4839786 And naturaly, you have saved the role of Satan for Sunset Shimmer.

[Traveler]

I been watching this story for a good long while. And while you are undergoing a rewrite. I'm interested in what new directions you will take book one before swinging back to book two's plot. As for Polished, Twilight has had a lot granted to her. friends, being mentored by a princess/goddess. Born a goddess herself. Saving the world a couple times. And aiding in Equestria's salvation several times. And there's the fostering ritual itself to protect her until she awakened. It is no wonder that a number of her foster family's members are jealous of her.

[Admiral Q Ponyform]

4863699 Still you think after centuries of experiences she take notice that both Luna and Cadance are against this move and in your story those two are not on the best of terms. Such a decsion by both of them should a hold on take notice point. and Cadance brought up a valid point. say that Tyr's parents DID show up and they saw what Celestia did. That could be rather painful for Equestria. She REALLY didn't think this move through. Heck Zeus and Hades are looking for them, not a combo you want to anger.

[Traveler]

4864429 I agree, and anyone who has read the archived story does know Zeus's reaction to Celestia's decision. Yet at the same time, I can see where Celestia is coming from. Her family suffered a lot resulting from the death of Namyra, her aunt's fall and later her sister's. Tyr resented the Ioka alicorns for it still, and that is further shown in the Gala chapter. Furthermore, Luna and Cadence could be held responsible for not stopping Celestia from doing it rather just vocally opposing the decision.

[Admiral Q Ponyform]

4864493 She is letting fear overide the true logic of the situation. Yes tyr's standards are different then theirs but be an example and she could change. You've got at this point 4 alicorns to be examples for her, 5 when Twilight's mom shows up who can be an even better example. No Celestia chose the easy way rather then the right way.

[Traveler]

4864534 I concede to your point. I wonder what Iridia will say about Celestia's decision regarding Tyr if Tundara decides to include her reaction to it.

[Tundara]

4871261

It's been pointed out to me that I use a lot of said-ism. Much like reality, I'm not very good with conversations and fall on talking-head syndrome. Thank you for all the corrections.

[anowack]

Caught one typo:

With Rainbow outside the cabin, first Captain Hardy then Weathered Scabbard took turns chewing Twilight out as politely and differentially as possible.

Should be deferentially, I believe.