Day 14: Land in sight
First Notebook
Property of: A. K. Yearling
Sign: Daring Do
I have to get my mind straight. It haven’t been easy for me, having to pass information to a piece of paper while everything revolves around me. I’ve always thought of it as missing the moment, almost as if it were unnatural. But the facts are different, and the… Circumstances that surround this expedition demand to have at least a register of the events that unfold, both to have a better record of the facts and in the eventuality of our demise.
I don’t want to stay my mind on that subject. Another reason for doing this is that my editor has recently told me that the sales have gone down, mainly because apparently Daring is starting to loose its (how did he called it?) freshness. He believes that maybe it has to be with her character starting to become “unidimentional” and practically unchanged throughout the series, that I should explore more aspects of her personality rather than making her such a loner. Yeah, what does he know? So with that in mind he offered me this diary, in order for me to pour my thoughts and perceptions for my next installment, which I already warned to him, as well as to see if I can “flesh out” the main character in order to make her more relatable. As if I weren’t likable already.
But what does Daring Do has to do in this particular adventure? Is that normal, to refer to myself in third person? Hope it doesn’t become a habit… Simple, after having a discussion about wether to change or not my writing style (those marketers are idiots), I left Horseshoe editorial, back in Manehatten, and went back to my abode, where I expected to find some peace and quiet to think about my next field trip and close some investigations I’ve been working on. Heck if those morons are gonna tell me how I should write MY books! I got to admit that it was a hard blow to my ego, seeing how I’ve suffered and (literally) bled for these stories, but that’s not the end of it. I was disappointed and I needed a drink, and perhaps some company to ease my tensions and speak my mind, but I wasn’t going to go for any mediocre liquid valor of the city. The countryside has always been better in that respect (at least in my eyes).
I never suspected anything when I walked out of the station and entered the nearest tavern in town (I suppose that my guard did was that low…), a lonely place between the Big City and Horseshoe Bay that I decided would be granted the honor to serve a strange mare a small glass of single, straight malt. If only I’d have been more clever I’d notice their presence, and if I were in the mood, things would’ve probably turned out different from what they did, but I guess that somehow it wasn’t in my near future to acknowledge that I had been followed all the way back from Manehatten.
I would prefer to avoid the details of my struggle. I wasn’t in my five senses (after five scotches, who would be?), and I’m sure I didn’t acted as myself. Still I’m pretty sure I was able to take out at least one of the thugs before the other two subdued me. Is it my imagination or am I getting used to beat henchcolts? Not that I hadn’t have trouble with them before. In any case I wouldn’t be standing here, writing these words, if it weren’t because those ruffians weren’t the only ones that have been following me. Apparently one cannot be too famous in Equestria without dragging the best that society has to offer… And the worst as well.
It was completely unexpected how we met that night (or the next day, I can’t recall over the huge headache I was having). Apparently it were his personal roughnecks who saved me, seriously though, Ahuizotl has to start considering improving the profile by which he hires these guys, they fall off like flies! and he granted me the honor of hiring my services for his purposes. As if I weren’t being exploited enough. It wasn’t any other than the Royal Iterator and Researcher, Pen Pusher (heh Pen-Pusher…) in person, and he needed my help.
We talked at length, and throughout the breakfast (and my hangover) he made his proposal to me very clear. You see, Pen Pusher is no ordinary fish in the water. He has the power and influence enough to require almost anything he wants, and the very Princesses’ approval to do so. His papers and his safe-conduct have allowed him to travel far and wide throughout the known world with the protection of Equestria and back to reveal his discoveries to the royal court of Celestia herself. It’s an enviable position, and one that most of explorers and researchers (like, dunno, my field of work?) aspire to in their dreams at best. You heard, Celestia? If you ever need a young(er) mare willing to go beyond the chart’s end then I happen to know somepony who would be more than happy to apply for the job. The point is that the social position of this old stallion, and the great recognition that the scientific community has given to him makes any opportunity to work with him a very big shot, if it weren’t because everypony who works directly with him often dies.
Staying on subject, Pen Pusher and I chatted all morning long, and in the midst of elusive commentaries and effervescent tablets I was able to retain the most important details of his job offer (or what I think were the most important). Apparently, Pen Pusher had just returned from Zebrica, and not just Equestrian Zebrica, but beyond the border of the colonies, where Nuzlu’s people still live and thrive, from where he’d had the opportunity to learn from the culture and give the lie (or ascertain) to some rumors about the dangers of the land. The lucky mother had even the chance to interview with Ajani Goldmane himself! Buck if I ever got that far… But besides the fact that he had the single (only, irrepetible, once in a lifetime) chance to speak with the leader of the Nuzlu-Leonin allegiance lucky bastard he found something else in his journeys through the lands beyond Celestia’s sun.
It was a rumor, a vague legend (or at least he called it) that people referred to in secret at the dim light of lamps or bonfires, when the nights were at their darkest and the world around seemed to disappear, swallowed by unnatural shadows. He never got any major details throughout his journey other than myth and superstition (Quote: “Old nag’s tales.”), but when Ajani himself confirmed it he knew there was no mistake. The legend spoke of a mystical object, something that was given to the world at the very beginning of times, and that it contained the heart-truth of creation, and the events behind it: the mythical Stone of Light, a relic so valuable that entire civilizations had battled and perished in their quest to obtain it.
I myself are no stranger of the legend. Outermost ruins here in the continent refer to an object that was sent here in the beginning of times by the “Gods” or the “Horsemaster” herself (details vary) and that it marked the precise point where the divinities reached this world as well as contained the truth about their origin. Other tales describe it as “The Gateway from which Magic flows into this World” but there has never been an official designation, until now. Under any other circumstances I’d like to know how are we supposed to find such an unbelievable ancient and invaluable treasure, but Pen Pusher again proved me that he can live up to his reputation. For Ajani, in all of his wisdom, hadn’t only confirmed him that the legend was true, but offered sight to a precious and ancestral clapboard curse three times his lucky flank! that had been passed from one generation to another in his tribe, and that depicted, supposedly, the location of the Stone. Pen Pusher couldn’t bring it along, because both its valuable to the leonin and the fact that it was fifteen feet tall of pure solid gold, so he made a representation of the whole artifact in his diary pages (so, he too has one of these huh?) and gave it as much detail as he could, both in parts and as a whole. The whole set of pieces conform a vision so clear of the tablet that when he came back he custom made a tapestry representation of the object, and I swear the artisan responsible was truly talented. It almost looks like the real thing!
I was taken to see the tapestry in Pen Pusher’s manor, which he had enriched with translations from his the original language (some of them given by Ajani himself). Though I hadn’t accepted yet, I must say, that the discovery that geezer made is by far more remarkable than anything many of our profession would hope to achieve (it’s the freaking Stone of Light! The starting point of every legend and myth that our society and many others has revered throughout known history!). Why me? I guess that it has to do with the fact that the Royal Iterator has read all of my books and actually liked them (Pen Pusher’s a fan of Daring Do, how flattering!), but aside from any personal motivation, he believes I’m a good practicer of our profession he thinks I’m good!!! and would like to count with my experience and expertise in this expedition. In my experience, I’d guess that’s gonna be something along the lines of explorer’s guide, hubby trap tester, and equine shield in case things get ticklish…
Naturally I agreed.
Immediately after I signed in and signed my last will I was bombarded with a pile of information that Pen Pusher had done in a preliminary investigation before arranging the expedition, and that I would have to learn by heart before we sailed. All I’m gonna say about the paper that I was handed is that it was a extensive research about everything even remotely related with the place where we were heading and good Celestia, the archives this stallion has access to!. This uncharted piece of the world which is gonna be our destination is named Katha. The land is located south of Zebrica, and though it’s not geographically distant the zebric denizens and their leonin friends of the neighboring country have all learned to stay out of there for goodness sake.
Legends say that the island of Katha (though Pen Pusher clarifies that some records state that it may as well be an independent continent) it’s a feral place, barely discovered or explored by the inhabitants of other nations. Even pre-Equestrian charts are contradictory and poorly outlined. The leonin believe that it’s the land of an elusive branch of their species, only mentioned as the Balam. The history of Katha tells that it used to be the capital of an ancient and powerful species known as the Penna, and that they, in turn, formed an empire of unimaginable proportions. Legend say that they used to be the most powerful people of the world, that their domains stretched even to the nowadays Equestria, and with the Stone of Light in its centre, they ruled this world by harnessing the power of an ancient and incommensurably powerful network of magic. (This seems legit, since the Penna are mentioned even in the Chronicles of the Horsemaster, the holy archive of the Horsematerist faith) What happened to this godly-like people? Nobody knows, but theories are not lacking. Some say that the pride and arrogance of the Penna angered the gods, and that they, in their wrath, punished them by erasing their kind from the world, disintegrating their powerful empire in the process. Others believe that the Penna grew so lordly that they turned against each another and the resulting civil war created the world as we know it, but destroyed everything that they had achieved, all of their civilization gone; and one final version states that there occurred a natural disaster as the world had never seen which destroyed the cities of the Penna and turned their very magic against them, and the Penna, being completely dependent on their magic, were destroyed by their own nature. Whatever it was it left no trace of what happened, and neither of the Penna, save for their presence in the collective memory of our peoples.
“Now the continent has long been forgotten, and irremediably lost in the mists of time” (not kidding, it’s a quote from Pusher).
The peoples of the world grew oblivious of their ancient lords and their fall, and forgot their works and deeds over time until nothing but their legend survived the passing of the ages. The most recent depiction of Katha comes from the northern continent of Zebrica (in this case it would be something like South-Western Zebrica), where the peoples that inhabit beyond the Equestrian colonies and haven’t been Alicornized still tell the tales of the lost country. So, adhering to the investigation of Pusher of the oral traditions of at least a dozen tribes, many believe that the land is haunted, that it houses nothing more than nightmarish sights, and that maneless abominations roam its infinite swamps, plagued with clouds of vermin so thick that can occlude the sun. A place of death where of many that have arrived, none ever returns. Perhaps they are exaggerated, since it’s understood that nopony has actually explored the land properly or maybe it’s to uncover the tropical paradise that this land is in its natural landscapes… I sincerely hope it’s the second.
I took the information with me and learned it while over the next month Pusher gathered the necessary assets to put up the expeditionary force. Three weeks after I left his manor, Pusher organized a seminar in order to present to the Equestrian Archeology Society his proposal for the journey into the land of Katha. All that I have to say about his conference is that everything he lacks in public speech he compensates for experience and persuasive personality (after all he convinced me…). As was expected, the meeting of the society not only granted him permission to explore Katha, but allowed him to dispose of the resources of the association, from which he picked me, A. K. Yearling, Daring Freaking Do suckers!!! a second class investigator to be his personal assistant and auxiliary researcher. Even if we know who’s gonna be marking the pace here. A week later the Princesses issued their approval, and put the frigate Victory, and the Noctees caravel the Moon Shine under our disposition (ah, how easy’s everything when your bosses grant you whatever you want…). And so, with a crew that me and Pen Pusher personally picked up, and the firepower of the vessels of the Royal Navy at our flanks we departed Equestria for the biggest adventure of ponykind.
The rest of the journey is history. It was uneventful. Just a day after we went away from our homeland, and the weather stopped depending on our pegasus sailors, we caught a strong wind, which the weather patrol seized to power our sails and so we reached our neighboring continent in only five days flat (those are sailing skills I like to see!). Once there we touched port in Manebasa where Pen Pusher longed to find and hire local sailors who may help us navigate through the waters to Katha. It was a wasted effort. Every captain, sailor, even the fishercolts denied us as soon as they found out where were we heading. Pussies. All of them were equally superstitious, and all of them were equally scared. Stories about sea monsters, unexplainable tides, compasses going crazy, and even angry spirits surround those waters like mosquitoes in a swamp (but who would be naive enough to think that there’s a titanic blowfish guarding those waters, or that you can see flying jellyfishes the size of a gallon with its sails displayed floating over the clouds!?) Seriously, sometimes I think these stallions have more salt water than brains in their heads! Though, some of the tales about sea monsters seemed pretty legit…
Anyway, after a few downers we started to loose faith in our endeavor. It seemed like we were gonna have to roam those waters alone. Then He showed up. Captain Heart Lock (mercenary + bandit + thief + liar + drunkendoushebagwhowillneverwriteyouback = PIRATE!!!) of the Arcadia damn if I don’t know him well! offered himself to act as our vanguard in the expedition. Oh hell no! I, of course, dissented, even if he DID deserved the kick in the crouch but my statement was too late, for Pusher had already been mesmerized by his charisma and mystery I gotta give it to him, he’s still a charmer, so there was nothing I could do. The Arcadia would come with us.
So, Heart Lock is the newest member of our expedition, and hopefully, the next of our casualties which brings me to the current situation of our party. Firstly, we have Captain Rig Knot, an old veteran of the Royal Navy whose record goes as back as the Nuzlu Rising (most impressively, that he hasn’t retired). He’s an old one-eyed unicorn who likes to play with his pipe once and again, while not smoking that snuffy thing he calls tobacco. He’s assertive and direct, his mind is sharp like a boarding saber and precise like the clockwork piece that he carries inside one of his pockets. He governs his ship almost as neatly and tidy as his manners as a gentlecolt, not one rope or knot out of place, and every gun is on its station and ready or stored down in the cellar, nothing is just lying by. Truly a stallion worth of his position and prestige in the Royal Navy, and with at least half of his age a pretty handsome pony too (what can I say, I may have a weakness for seafarers).
Next we have our benefactor. The cause that made everything possible. Pen Pusher is a vision that puzzles and baffles me nowadays. The old stallion must be over his seventies, and the sluggishness with which he moves most of the time only ascertains me that perhaps his full-blooded age may be in the past. But that’s precisely what I don’t understand. Even though he may be old, he’s far from senile. An engaging conversation, the challenge of displacement through large tracks of terrain, and even the continued activity this earth pony can withstand is something that I cannot yet understand. He may be slow, clumsy and even catatonic at times, but whenever there’s something of his interest in reach that image suddenly fades and the living dynamo that he really is comes to the fore. I can’t believe that he’s able to do this out of sheer passion (I’d wish I was this active when I reach his age!), and yeah, he might be a little vintaged, but by no means he’s a boring pony. Such a shame that we came to be in different times. If this is his older self I’d really like to know him in his prime.
Talking about the crew members is a meaningless endeavor, both because there are too much (at least a hundred on board the Victory) and because I haven’t got to know them in the totality not that it’s of my foremost interests anyway. The ones that I can speak of, though stand out from the rest because I’ve always seen them around me and Pen Pusher at all times (and I mean all times), always with and eye on our persons. It doesn’t take much intelligence to know that they are our escorts though, even for an explorer who isn’t accustomed to go solo, I have to wonder what kind of job history does Pen Pusher has is if he have to necessarily receive cover at all times? and they have stated very clear that protecting us is part of their jobs, more so than the guardscolts we already carry on this journey (and they’ve demonstrated it beyond question the other night when they took those henchcolts off of my back). The first of them is the one that, according to Pusher, has been with him the longest. Her name is Blaze Flare and she’s a pegasus, sergeant of the Royal Guard. If I had to use simple words to describe her I’d say she’s a rather tough mare. Scars and scratches are all over her body, and she doesn’t care to show them (if I had to guess I’d say that she even takes pride on them) her physical form doesn’t stay far behind, and on top of that she’s a really good flier. Now, first time I saw her I couldn’t deny there was something odd about her person. Her orange bright eyes, her backwards mane style… Only after I did some research on her I found out that she is in fact daughter of Myra Leadwind, former Captain Commander of the Sky Hussars! (Which automatically makes her family with Spitfire, the captain of the Wonderbolts, just saying) It would make sense, since if you put her side to side with Spitfire (and if it weren’t because of her white blaze mark on her forehead and wings) you could say they’re twins! But no, they’re actually half sisters, from different marriages. Her record also states that she actually belonged to the Wonderbolts, but renounced after a dispute with another member, guess who might be… and it shouldn’t be hard to believe, since Blaze may be a terrific athlete, but has terrible habits. She’s impulsive and belligerent, and has an attachment for drinking that makes me any normal pony look like freaking scarlet pimpernel. The only times I’ve seen her showing some decency and respect are when she’s on duty (I’ve seen her stand firm for an hour with a hangover that would’ve put a normal mare on her knees just to throw up when she was set at ease). I sincerely don’t know what did Pen Pusher saw in her to drag her around this expedition as his bodyguard, specially when he can count with requesting better trained soldiers and ponies of the likes of me but I guess that if she’s been with him all this time she must be a very reliable mare and in that, until I have better proof, I won’t question his logic.
The other one is relatively new, though his military record is more than enough to speak for his seasoning. He’s a thestral assigned in the name of Princess Luna from the Lunar Coven in order to accompany us in the name of his ruler (and Equestria, of course) to this new land. His name is Burasen (Bursn, Burasn, Bursen… something like that) and he doesn’t say much. He’s a Night Bearer, an elite rank within the already elite Night Guard as I understand, and his job description is pretty much the same as Blaze’s, with the sole difference that he’s in charge of the night rounds (since he’s a thestral) job that he does with excelling dedication. He’s stoic to say the least, and the few times I’ve seen him over the mainmast it’s like he’s hunting, waiting for something to come across his sight in order to devour it sometimes I even feel that he’s watching at me… He creeps me out!!! Out of the few things I’ve made out that he likes is to go completely unnoticed. His mane is of deep blue and his coat of fur is completely black, his eyes are of purple dark and don’t reflect any light (odd, since Lunar thestral’s eyes tend to be yellow bright as far as I know), so it’s hard to see him in shadowed places, and he takes a silent delight I can feel it! in spying from the black of his bunk bed when he’s on permission. Actually, if I didn’t know that he sleeps there during the day sometimes I wouldn’t even know he’s there! He doesn’t live together with the other colts, and his attitude towards others can be easily described as bearish, and people say I’m a loner… The few things I’ve been able to ascertain of him are because of my constant observation of his habits (and it’s nothing I’ve even done on a regular basis). I’d like to consider myself as one who wouldn’t fall for something as superficial as prejudice and stereotype, yet that spook hasn’t spoke a word to me and he’s managed somehow to haunt his own presence! but I gotta admit that there’s something in myself that doesn’t trust him. Perhaps time will tell, but until then I’ve bore in mind to be cautious with him in every turn. Let’s hope that it turned out to be my own suspicion and bearishness the things that have kept me away from having contact with him all along.
And last, and least, there’s Heart Lock. I will not loose ink and/or paper on him. He’s a pirate, a beggarly brigand of the seas and a fully fledged outlaw whose not worth losing time in meeting, lest to say establishing any kind of personal relation. In resume, he’s a soulless colt, a waste of flesh and bone of pegasus, and this expedition would be infinitely better without him leading the way (even if that means that I can get the chance to see him sink to the bottom of the ocean because of some danger yet unknown to ponykind). That’s my opinion about him and nothing, not even his constant attempts to flirt or make contact over this journey (So. Many. Tries…), will make me change my mind. End of the question.
So, having written everything about how this journey started, even if some details aren’t precisely accurate, here’s what’s happened to the date:
Since we left Manebasa port we haven’t seen anything but blue all around us. The Victory is a robust vessel, but I couldn’t help but to worry as we entered in deeper waters (specially with Heart Lock at the front). Since then we’ve moved at a very decent pace, but still my worries wouldn’t ease. Rig Knot has told me (several times) that I have nothing to worry about; he has the experience and the power to manage almost everything that the Old Blue has to offer, and that life in the sea requires patience, I can be patient, I assure you, just not in a floating coffin! and Pen Pusher rapidly entered into his “hibernation” state, barely talking or moving around unless there’s something of interest happens which on high seas is like asking for a freaking miracle!. I didn’t know what to do with myself the first days, the life aboard the boat was too dull uninteresting. I could fly wherever I want, but if I strayed too far away from the convoy… Well, the results wouldn’t be pretty and drowning in high seas is something I don’t have interest in experiencing, thank you very much.
Days have passed one after another without anything interesting to say or do until I kind of started to loose the track of time (another reason for which I’m writing in this diary) and these have been the last two weeks of my life. Nothing but an irretrievable waste of my time. I’ve tried to find a proper way to use my free time, and gave a shot to that venturesome game the crewcolts play named “pannikin” but it’s only resulted in the loose of my goods (and I’m pretty sure those dogs cheated me what a bunch of pricks!) so, in spite of the frustration and humiliation of being conned I’ve decided to stay still and let time slip me by until we reach our destination, lest I end up betting something far more precious than my material possessions in that sickish game a bunch of stallions left alone in a boat for months at a time… Now that’s something to be worried about.
So, up till now this journey has been anything but adventurous, and with every setting sun I worry more and more that we are heading to nowhere. It’s been a hard test of will and mind for me, and the worst part is that it’s one I couldn’t avoid even if I wanted to it even made me consider go to the Arcadia and speak to Heart Lock. …Of course, to this morning.
We had been heading southwest for two days now, since our navigation charts determined that supposedly this was the point where we should turn to the coast, when this morning we encountered the first obstacle in our way (and the first interesting thing that has ever happened since we sailed out!). The Arcadia’s weather team spotted in the distance something under the water that may be a coral reef or a giant slumbering sea serpent as the world has never seen a natural barrier that stretched for miles apparently in both directions, and that unavoidably was blocking our way ti the west.
We didn’t loose any time, and immediately after the news were passed down to us preparations for a deep recognizance of the terrain were made. Blaze Flare assembled the weather team pegasus of the Victory and the Arcadia (six and four respectively) into a single scout party. I demanded wanted to come along, but she denied me, saying that it might be too dangerous her lousy flank is too dangerous! and went away with what volunteers she had and left me here! ME!!!.
Time passed after they departed and got lost in the distance. Apparently right after the reef exists a heavy bank of mist because they got out of sight too quickly. The explorer party went away and we didn’t got any news of them. Rig Knot after a while ordered for the ships to be anchored as close to the reef as possible and dispositions were maid in order to do so. By midday we were stationed in front of the great wall of nature that impeded us to go further, and there was nothing to do but to stare at the blankness that consumed the world beyond us. Again there was nothing else to do.
On the bright side Pen Pusher finally went out of his lethargy and he spent the day examining the coral life forms that composed the reef (gosh, so much coral…). I of course was beside him, but after a while of taking notes, suddenly the “rich and diverse” ecosystem of the tectonic rift lost it’s enchant, seriously, it’s just a bucking pile of rocks! yet it was better than going back to do nothing in the Victory, and having at last somepony to talk to other than the boorish crew is a relief I’d been looking forward to since this journey started.
On an interesting note, Pusher’s first thought was that this was a natural formation, but after some detailed inspection he faintly believes that this may be something else: “Perhaps the rests of a massive defensive formation that have been degraded over time until nothing remained of it but its foundations”. I personally don’t know what to make out of this. On the one hoof we have this incredibly large reef, which shouldn’t be surprising, since studies in Equestrian geology demonstrated that the tectonic accommodation have suffered a great deal of stress since the creation of the continents as we know them, resulting in a failure in the terrain (like the Ghastly Gorge, but ten times bigger) or a possible fracture line that hasn’t been found yet, which might be the case here. But on the other side, the leveling of the terrain, the regular distribution of spaces of the reef’s dimensions, and the homogeneity of the failure (which stretches from one point of the horizon to the other without faltering) can’t be all coincidences. Again, I find a hard time to choose what to believe, but if the theory of Pusher is true then I couldn’t imagine the time or power required to rise this wall
perhaps the Penna did were gods if that’s true.
…But it didn’t offered much other clues. The rest of the day passed as unevenly as the others, slow and sunny, after a while even Pusher’s company didn’t ease my need for movement, and in more than one occasion (between hours at a time) I wondered about the exploring party. What was taking them so long? I’m sure I wasn’t the only one that was taking crescent worry on our adventures, since a few times I glimpsed at some nervous stares into the distance, and even somepony as hardened as Rig Knot showed some signs of concern behind his stony facade. Now who doesn’t have anything to worry about? I had already suggested to initiate an investigation hopefully to get off of this boat for once in order to locate the party, and this time, surprisingly, both Pusher and Rig Knot agreed! Even if I had to drag that dirtbag known as Heart Lock around I wouldn’t miss this chance. We were readying to depart, with the rest of the weather team, this time more armed than the ones that went off with Blaze Flare (even though I don’t believe in guns) and were about to take off.
But then that’s when we heard it.
At first we thought it was nothing, but when it came again, and again, after three times there was no mistake: it was gunfire. Silence rose after those shots, and something hung heavy in the air. I’m finding a hard time to describe the mixed feelings we had about what it meant. Relief because Blaze Flare and the others were alive, doubt about what was the fuss all about, and finally worry for imagining the reasons of each one as to why it deserved to fire a musket… Sea monsters?
After a little debate the question of wether to send or not another party became if wether or not to send reinforcements. Heart Lock was in favor of finding a deep spot in the reef in order to get in the bank and put the cannons of the Arcadia to a good use, but Rig Knot (thank Celestia for his restraint) denied it by saying that it may only worsen the situation. Pen Pusher kept himself out of this, even though I wanted to take action ah that flame had so long been extinguished inside me that I even doubted it was there anymore. We may have argued all day, but fortunately (or maybe not so much) the situation made that choice for us.
It came when the shots were heard again. Once more, the three muskets fired and filled the air with their popping noise drowned in the distance. Both Heart Lock and I would have taken this as another argument in our favor, but before anything else another sound followed the powder discharge that had first warned us of its presence. It was a roar, a gutural noise of a beastly being of unimaginable factions that reaped the air from nowhere and silenced anything we had to say as easy as a candle is blown away. Suddenly all of us fell silent, and every soul inside our vessels (I could almost feel it) tensed at least a little bit. We didn’t know what would be happening or what was that, but one thing was very clear: without question it was out there, and it was big.
Perhaps we would have stayed looking baffled at the blankness before us, but Rig Knot, true to his war captain experience immediately took command. By his order both ships entered in high alert, and while the cannons were being loaded and the guns distributed, all hooves (even Burasen with a strange Noctees-like musket) got to deck and steadied in their posts. Pen Pusher was hosted in the captain’s cabin with myself (since I refused the pistol I was offered), and Burasen, who still remained silent as he tried to peek to the exterior. From the stern of the ship everything we could do was hear the boiling activity of the exterior as the Victory was readying itself for battle and the calls of the sailors as they, with a masterful display I can only imagine, readied the main guns of the ship.
I can’t say exactly how many minutes we waited when everything settled again. What I can manage to imagine is that when everything was in order everypony stayed in their posts (and I can picture Rig Knot, spying the horizon with a telescope in search for the creature to show its ugly face from nowhere). More minutes passed, and just when the homentum was beginning to settle, the first musket shot returned.
“There!” shouted a colt from the prow, and I could hear Rig Knot mumbling something over my head.
“Adjust cannons, forty five degrees!” called another from upwards.
“Forty five degrees!” somepony called back. Another shot reached us from the distance, accompanied by the distinctive growl of that creature, but this time that wasn’t all. Immediately after it heard, a discharge that roared like a thunderstorm encompassed its threat. At first we were confused about what happened, but it didn’t take us much to know it has been the Arcadia, firing its battery at the beast.
“Steady!” called Rig Knot himself over the drumming of the guns. “At my command!”
Again that growling was heard, and when other two muskets fired upon the creature, the noise of something I won’t forget reached my ears like the whisper of a nightmare. The flapping of two powerful wings that swirled heavy body over the water, right through the air with a predatory cadence.
“FIRE!!!” Rig Knot suddenly shouted with a voice I could hardly believe it was his and the guns of the Victory made such a storm sound that it made me wonder how were everypony on board supposed to still have audition after it.
The Victory’s discharge was supported by the Moon Shine’s, and when all the batteries fired I’m pretty sure that the sound of our battle could be heard miles away for the noise those roughish things known as cannons produce.The pounding of cannons were answered by a loud roar (even louder than the one we heard before) and a lowering groan that indicated that the beast had been hit. Cheers of the mariners encompassed the falling of the creature, and before long a colt stormed through the doors.
“It’s safe, the monster’s dead!” and he immediately headed back outside.
We followed him, but by the time we reached the main deck there was nothing to be seen. The creature had apparently fallen from the sky, and it had been swallowed by the waters, and everypony was celebrating their victory (even from the Arcadia the sounds of cheering came through), Rig Knot looked somehow happy with himself, and Pen Pusher wouldn’t be more relieved (I guess the taciturn expression of Burasen was to be expected as he returned back to his corner to sleep). I myself would have let go in the festivity but deep within I knew this wasn’t over, and in the end that reserve made its point when, appearing from within the cloud, the exploring party returned… Or rather what was left of it.
The first thing I thought when I saw Blaze Flare returning to he ship was that there had to be a mistake. Those weren’t the same colts that left the Victory at the beginning of the day. Instead, broken husks and panting shapes were the ones that made it back, and on top of that they weren’t complete. The battle against the monster had costed us three lives (two from the Victory and one from the Arcadia), and another one wounded (a young colt named Down Wind who needs urgent medical attention if he ever wants to take flight again my gosh, if something can tear apart a wing like that I wouldn’t imagine what did it do to the ones that didn’t made it! It almost makes me glad I didn’t go with them…) Blaze Flare had rescued him from certain death but had paid the price, and a stream of red was flowing down her brow under her helmet, though she decided being attended until the others were first (props to that).
When everypony was taken care of (and Down Wind placed on a stretcher) the sergeant finally spoke her report to us. Apparently, when they had scouted the reef they’d spotted a deep point in the wall through which the ships may pass several miles away. She believed that if we began to move now we could reach and bypass it or ram ourselves against the rocks by the next morning. The news would have brought us great joy if it weren’t because of the casualties we’ve already sustained. When we asked Blaze Flare about the monster and the whole fight for survival that had unfolded before our prows she became a little more nervous. She refused to talk until Rig Knot ordered her so in a voice that very well exemplified his post as the governor of this ship. Then she let her tongue loose to our letdown… And wonder.
It turns out that indeed they had found the entrance, but that was about midday. The rest of the day they had wondered off, and by her own accord Blaze Fare told her explorers to venture forth into the fog in order to find out what they could see in the midst of the nothingness. The platoon had gone away then and went inside the fog bank for a good part of the day until they no longer could see the reef line. At first they thought that there should be nothing to be worried about, and even after some time Blaze Flare admits that her “detour” wouldn’t pay off. But then they stumbled agains the land (or rather it stumbled against them). She said that at first she couldn’t believe it until she herself was stepping on the shore (she even showed us the sand as proof). In that moment we didn’t know what to think. Half of us were torn between reprehending the audacity of the sergeant that had put all of us at risk (Rig Knot between them) and the other half were too baffled by the discovery to even think of the implications of her actions. Dry land at last! A chance to get out of this place!
Discussion would have followed, but in that moment the story of the mare took a grim turn. As I’ve mentioned before, they reached land, and of that we’re definitely shocked as well as we were angry with her for having discovered a new continent without our presence, but her tale was still far from over. As they made contact with the shore, the exploring party decided to outline everything they could before returning to the reef, and then to our ships as we were close by. None of them could imagine that the place was at the time the hunting ground for a creature that she hadn’t seen before, but could describe as a “flying serpent”. At first they tried to shoot it, but bullets just ricochetted against its tough skin, then, when everything failed they tried to loose it, but the creature had got their scent so everything they were left to do was flee and hide. Blaze Flare turned grim when she said that it got one of them before they knew what was happening, and another as they tried to get back to the boats (time when we heard the muskets, trying to lure it away from the scouts as they flew back to the Victory). Blaze Flare and the others battled long and wide with the serpent, but it didn’t yield, and it didn’t lost them, so the choice was to acknowledge it to the vessels in order for them to take it down with their cannons, which they did in time to save Down Wind. In the end even that turned into a desperate battle for survival, and it couldn’t have been done without the final sacrifice of the valiant colt from the Arcadia who gave his life in order to put the monster in the range of the Victory’s guns. Though I didn’t see it we know how well it turned out, and even though the creature were slain by the firepower of the ship, it was clear that the imprudence and rashness of Blaze Flare’s tactics caused us to loose an important part of our crew, and for that she had to be punished.
Now there’s a big debate going on, and as I write this I can hear the voices of Heart Lock, Pen Pusher and Rig Knot as they argue about the next course of action. I know I should be there, and curse me if I don’t step into this! but I wanted to print my thoughts of this before going out and decide how are we gonna make this through in case these are the last that I have the chance to write down….
I don’t know… For once this is not strange to me. We may have been able at last to find our destination, but our losses have already happened and we haven’t even got there! Down Wind is in pretty bad shape too and if I had to guess I’d say that he’s gonna loose the wing. This is one of the reasons I’ve never taken anypony with me into the unknown before, and because I hate dragging meddlers around, there are just too many risks. When this journey started everypony was exited about the prospect of finding a new world, but now that we’ve seen what is the danger I can’t help but to think that they’re having second thoughts about it me included. What is truly the risk of going into a completely uncharted territory (something that, as much as I’d like to dissent, I’ve never done before), and, most importantly, is it really worth it? In any case there’s something that doesn’t quite fit in all of this. This was supposed to be an adventure, but we’ve already paid the price in advance, and if we venture forth who knows what awaits beyond this test of will… In the end I guess that whatever it is, it has shown us beyond question what this journey is gonna be all about. This is not gonna be a tourist trip, and mistakes will not be forgiven. From this point on everything we do will be a matter of life or death.
What is now undeniably true is that we’ve finally reached the land beyond any known charts. A place that has never known the echoes of hooves in its abandoned halls for untold eras.
Now that’s gonna be definitely in the final version of the hoofscript!