//------------------------------//
// More Than My Thoughts 
// Story: Crystal's Hopes 
// by Crystal Wishes 
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"I can't believe you two are going to Saddle Arabia," Velvet said, her bottom lip stuck out in an exaggerated pout.

Crystal wrapped a foreleg around Velvet's neck and hugged her tight.  "I offered for you to come with.  You decided you'd rather spend time pursuing adoption agencies across Equestria."  She giggled and pulled back to smile at her.  "I expect a little Velvet running around when I get back."

"You realize that if I adopt a foal, they won't be a 'little Velvet', right?"  Velvet quirked one brow.  "Do you even know how adoption works?"

"Of course I do!"  Crystal huffed, puffing out her cheeks.  "Can't you let me have this?  I won't see you again for months!"

Velvet gave a derisive snort and put a hoof to Crystal's chest.  "Okay, okay."  She pushed her away, then waggled the hoof to shoo her.  "You better get going before one of us starts crying about how we'll miss the other, and then it'll just be a whole dumb mess."

There was a pause as they merely stared at each other until Crystal smiled softly.  "I'll miss you."

"Same, d'uh."  Velvet waggled her hoof again.  "Now go!"

Crystal scrunched up her nose—albeit grinning all the while—before she turned away and trotted up the ramp, pausing briefly to admire the ship.

It reminded her of her grandfather's luxury airships.  Its white hull was long and sleek, with an intricate design along the sides that resembled the twisted and gnarled roots of a large tree.

As she finished her ascension, she discovered Golden already standing on the deck, waiting with all of her luggage stacked in a neat and orderly pile beside her.

"I've just been informed," Golden said with a toss of her voluminous mane, "that your producer, Prince Majesty, wants to speak with you."  Her lips curled into a light grin.  "Apparently, they think I'm your personal assistant."

"Well, it's a better title than 'friendly freeloader', don't you think?"  Crystal giggled.  She lowered the suitcases held in her magic beside Golden's and kept walking forward.  "Then, Assistant Golden, please take my things to my cabin.  I'll go see what the prince wants!"

"Dusty!" Golden called, giving Crystal pause to look over her shoulder and see the mop-headed stallion step around the pile of luggage.  "Dusty, get to it."

Crystal blinked a few times.  "You brought him?"

The stallion locked eyes with her.  Though his drooped slightly, there was a distinct fire burning in them.  "Of course.  I am an actual personal assistant.  This is my job."

Why did she get goosebumps from his stare?  It was almost as though they were embittered rivals, but she hadn't a clue what they were fighting over.  Golden?

Crystal blinked a few times, then smiled.  "Well, I'm sure she'll be very grateful for your assistance in the desert.  I look forward to getting to know you, Dusty!"  With the most casual wave she could muster, she turned back to walk away.

"Cast off!" a pony called from somewhere, and she paused to hold her ground.

She tilted her head back at the sound of the sails unfurling, smiling as she watched the white sheets cut through the air like the talons and feathers of a white bird, eager to catch and ensnare the wind.

With a creak and a groan, the ship started forward at a slow and cautious pace.  The ships on either side at the dock bobbed lightly as if to wave farewell.  Crystal looked back to see Velvet standing at the edge of the pier, both forelegs flailing in a desperate goodbye.

"Be safe!" Velvet yelled into the wind.

Crystal reared onto her hindlegs to wave back at her.  "I will!"

Velvet dropped down, a bright smile on her face, but Crystal's heart ached.  Even at the slowly growing distance, she could see the sad look hiding behind that smile.  They would miss each other.

"He's waiting," Golden reminded her, nodding her head.  "Don't delay."

Crystal nodded and broke into a light trot.  Her hooves clicked against the wood that was almost too smooth, too polished.  So long as she didn't gallop around haphazardly, it felt like she would maintain her balance.  That, of course, would likely be challenged when they hit the open waters and the world as she knew it became a rocking, tilting, lurching mess.

An airship hitting a bit of turbulence was one thing.  A boat in the water, however, was an entirely different matter.  She had never gotten seasick before, but she'd also never been out to sea.  The air was tinged with salt from the ocean beneath them, a stark reminder of what lay ahead of her: a long journey filled with potential bouts of nausea.

She reached the cabin that served as the captain's quarters, sitting boastfully tall and proud in the middle of the deck.  After knocking, she pushed the door open and started to speak, but the sight in front of her froze her in place.

Three ponies—no, three horses stood around Prince Majesty.  Their svelte bodies towered over the stallion who was, himself, taller than Crystal, making her feel like a little filly in a room of adults.  They were around the same height as Princess Celestia, but were otherwise so very different from ponies, from herself.  It was like meeting an entirely new species.

The mare turned to acknowledge Crystal first.  She had a deep brown coat that glistened in the light to accentuate the taut muscles of her frame.  A blaze of white went down the middle of her face, and the black tresses of her mane were parted to one side and fell in gentle waves.

"Greetings," she said in a voice that carried an unfamiliar accent.  "You must be Crystal Wishes, daughter of Upper Crust, the Writer."

Crystal blinked, mouth agape, speechless.

At the mare's side, one of the stallions flared his nostrils.  His off-white coat was speckled with grey spots that congregated along his shoulders and flanks but thinned around his middle.  His mane, similarly parted only to one side, was like a mix of salt and pepper.  The end of his muzzle was dark grey, almost black, and parted with a lopsided grin.

"It must be so," he said.  "She is the one."

The third stallion was a bright chestnut color, offset by patches of white that rose from his hooves and reached for his knees, and he had a long blonde mane that was braided in several places.  He said nothing, merely watching her with deep brown eyes.

Prince Majesty trotted forward, waving his hoof to urge her inside.  "Come in, come in!  Meet your Fatinah, Khalil, and Ghareeb!"

A pang of realization crashed down on her as she looked between the three horses.  These were Arabians?  She had seen pictures during her research, yes, but they hardly prepared her for reality.  They were so foreign, so exotic, so beautiful, so strange.

Finally, she came back to her senses and quickly shook her head.  "Forgive me.  My who?  But what about auditions?"

"Oh, tut, tut."  Majesty clicked his tongue.  "That was the plan, yes, but it turns out that there are so very few Arabians qualified.  They don't have films, you see, so there are hardly any aspiring film actors in Saddle Arabia.  Then there are only so many of them that speak Equestrian!  We can't very well have somepony who can't speak Equestrian, now, can we?"

The mare's ear flicked and she looked at Majesty with a strange curiosity on her long, elegant face.  The chestnut stallion rolled his shoulders in a light shrug, and the grey stallion kept grinning and watching Crystal and Majesty.  They must have seemed like foals.  Crystal felt so very small under the weight of their towering gazes.

"It's a wonder we even found these three!  Well, we found four, but the mare was just not right.  Not right at all!"  Majesty shook his head, then beamed at her.  "Aren't you pleased?  Don't they look wonderful?"

Crystal furrowed her brow.  "I...  Forgive me, Maj, but I thought you brought me along to be involved.  I would have liked to have met all of the candidates."

With a light snort, the mare stepped forward.  Her piercing gaze tore right through Crystal's moment of defensiveness.  "Are you displeased with me, Crystal Wishes?"

"No!"  Crystal quickly shook her head.  "I hardly know you!  I just—I am just surprised, that's all."

Majesty reached up to put a hoof on the mare's shoulder—or at least as close as he could get, instead touching just below it.  "Won't you give me a moment with Mrs. Wishes?  We have some things to discuss after all you've told me."

Things to discuss.  Crystal's stomach tied itself into a tight knot.  Was it more news of decisions made without her?  They had hardly left port and already she was feeling adrift.

The three Arabians nodded.  They each bade polite farewells before exiting the cabin, leaving her alone with Majesty.  When she looked back at him, his expression was worryingly serious.

"I was going over the script so far with Djamila, and she explained some complications."  He sighed, walking over to the desk set against one wall and dropping into the seat.  "Didn't you research Arabian culture?"

Crystal's ears folded back.  "I—I did research, yes, but now I have a sinking feeling I missed something important."

Majesty threw his hooves into the air as if to beg the heavens for aid.  "Oh, it's awful!  Your precious story must be changed!"

"Changed?" she repeated in a quiet voice.  Her ears went completely flat against her mane.  "What needs changed?"

"Khalil and Ghareeb cannot simply be together.  They would be looked down upon and treated poorly by their families and friends!  You don't want that for them, do you?  You want them to live happily ever after?"

Crystal could only nod.  Her throat felt dry.  She had never looked into Saddle Arabia's views on same-sex couples.  It had never crossed her mind!  Did they have something against it?  Why?

Majesty smiled.  "Good!  Then we just have to make a small change.  Just a tweak.  I'm sure you understand.  We have to respect their culture, after all.  Djamila has a very easy solution: Khalil and Ghareeb should both marry Fatinah."

"What?"  Crystal's eyes went wide.  "Majesty!  That's not a small change!  That's changing the entire message of the story!  I'm sorry, but—"

He raised a hoof, laughing.  "No, no, no!  It doesn't change a thing!  She doesn't have to love them.  She just marries them so that they can be her husbands and, thus, be together.  It's quite genius, actually.  An ultimate show of friendship and kindness.  For them, she sacrifices her freedom.  Isn't that a much more wonderful message?"

Crystal dropped her gaze to the desk and slowly shook her head.  "I don't understand.  Why?  Why does she have to marry them?"

"Oh, Djamila explained it so well."  He pursed his lips much like a pouting foal.  "How did she put it?  Hmm, well, you see!  In Arabian culture, it is a stallion's duty to take care of a mare, and it is a mare's right to be cared for.  Stallions must do their duty or they'll be looked down on, you see.  Don't you?"

Conflicted feelings stirred in her chest.  "I...  I suppose, yes."

Majesty nodded.  "Therefore!  If Fatinah marries them, the problem is solved.  It's really such a simple change that I don't see any reason to make a fuss.  It's all right with you, isn't it?"

Crystal didn't say anything for a while.  Majesty continued to prattle on, but she stopped listening.  Respecting the culture of Saddle Arabia was important; however, she couldn't shake the feeling that she was lost.  That she had lost.  Lost what?  Control?  Power?

No, it had nothing to do with either of those things.  The Desert Rose was precious to her.  For so long, she had been oblivious to Velvet's feelings about her, and about herself.  Velvet suffered quietly with feelings of uncertainty and self-loathing.  This was Crystal's apology, Crystal's affirmation that Velvet was wonderful and to not feel ashamed of who she was.

And now, Majesty wanted to change things.  The story was no longer hers.  She had relinquished it to him.

Pressure built up inside Crystal's chest and she nodded when it seemed Majesty was asking her a question.  It didn't matter what he asked; he was the one in charge.

Majesty clapped his hooves together.  "Great!  Then I look forward to the finished script.  Silver is already in his cabin, whittling away at what remains.  Remember to have some fun.  We'll be at sea for a while!"

"Yes.  Thank you."  Crystal smiled and turned for the door.  The echoing of her hooves resounded in her hollow heart.  What else would change?  Would she even recognize it when it was over?

She descended the stairs to the sleeping quarters, gaze darting at the numbers on the doors.  Four, five, six—there it was!  Seven.  Her cabin.  With a sigh, she turned the knob in her magic and peered inside the room.

It was fairly modest, with a large bed and a small porthole that gave a glimpse of the blue skies outside.  The room swayed just slightly as she stood there, so she dragged herself inside, shut the door, and collapsed on the bed.

Her muscles ached, but not from any physical exertion.  One conversation with Majesty had drained so much of her mental strength that she felt exhausted.  Doubt swirled in her chest and it felt like the walls were closing in on her, so she quickly snapped her eyes shut and instead focused on her surroundings.

Back, then forth.  The ocean's waves cradled the boat, rocking her into a lull.  For how still her body was, her mind was racing that much faster.

In her mind, Fatinah had been a brilliant white mare that shone like the sands she called home.  Djamila was still lovely, of course; but she wasn't Fatinah.  Not in Crystal's eyes.

And Ghareeb!  He was supposed to be a dark stranger wandering the desert.  Both stallions' coats were far too light.  It would make him seem less mysterious than Crystal had imagined.

A sigh escaped Crystal, followed by another.  There was nothing she could do.  At the least, she could try to enjoy seeing new sights.  Majesty couldn't take that away from her, could he?

"Crystal," Golden said as the door opened and she stuck her head in.  "I have a concern."

Crystal squirmed on the bed to look at her.  "What is that?"

"I... do not believe the motion of the ocean agrees with me."

Crystal blinked a few times, sitting upright.  Golden's luxurious coat seemed dull and without life, and her eyes sagged.  When the boat gave a particularly noticeable lurch, a sound bubbled up from Golden's throat that was less than pleasant.

"Wh-What can I do?"  Crystal slipped off the bed.  "Should I get Dusty?  Or Majesty?  Or—"

It was too late.  Golden's head dipped, and a foul smell hit Crystal in the face, sending her own stomach into a twisting flip.  For a moment, the both of them stood there, unmoving and silent.  Neither seemed to want to acknowledge the reality they were in.

"Sorry," Golden managed in a weak, raspy voice.  She took a small step back.  "Sorry."

Crystal tried not to sigh to avoid breathing in the smell a second time.  "It's... fine.  Let's get you up and into fresh air.  I'll—I'll just have somepony take care of it."  Gingerly and carefully placing each step, she walked out into the hall.  With her shoulder against Golden's for support, they made their way back onto the surface.

A gust of salt-licked air hit their faces, both a cooling and a stinging sensation.  Golden gasped it in as though the air below deck had been suffocating her.  She started drifting toward the railing, and Crystal had no choice but to follow alongside her.

"How long are we on this boat?" Golden asked, leaning over the edge preemptively.

Crystal winced.  "I think a whole week."

Golden groaned and slumped against the railing.  "I regret all of my life choices that brought me here."

The sails fluttered wildly in the wind that whistled through their manes.  For a moment, Golden merely focused on breathing in and out while Crystal tried to think of a solution.  The shore was still so close that, if she had to, she was certain she could swim to it.  Golden wouldn't survive the trip if she was already this sick.

"I'll go see if Majesty has anything," Crystal said, taking a step back.  "Just stay right here and keep breathing."

Before she could make it to the captain's quarters, however, she spied Dusty coming up from below deck.  He had a look of concern on his otherwise tired features, his gaze darting about before landing on Golden.  His expression shifted between surprise, then back to concern, deeper than before.

"Dusty!"  Crystal winced when his lips pulled into a taut, disapproving line when their eyes met.  "Dusty, Golden appears to be seasick already.  Did you pack anything for that?"

"Of course."  He turned to head back down the stairs.  "Make sure she breathes.  I'll get it."

Crystal wanted to question him why he seemed to dislike her so much, but there wasn't time for that.  The sound of a second round of nausea hit her ears and she hurried over to return to Golden's side.  She rubbed a hoof along Golden's back and said softly, "Shh, shh.  You're all right.  Dusty is on his way."

Golden's frame trembled with a quiet sob.  "This is—"

"It's fine," Crystal tried to reassure her.

"This is so embarrassing."  Golden dropped her head low.  "What if—What if somepony important saw me like this?"  She groaned.

Crystal couldn't help a breathless laugh.  "Oh, thank you."

The clicking of hooves approached from behind and Crystal turned, expecting to see Dusty.  A light squeak accompanied her sharp gasp when she saw one of the Arabians—the chestnut stallion—walking toward them with a bag held in his mouth.  Once he was just a few paces away, he lowered his head and gave it a small bob as if to throw the bag, drawing her attention to it.

"Huh?"  Crystal's magic encircled the bag to take it from him.  "What's this?"

He lifted his head and smiled.  "To settle the nausea of your friend."  His accent was even thicker than Djamila's, but his words were clear.

Golden's magic snatched the bag out of Crystal's and she tore it open to look inside.  "What?"

"It is the root of zanjabeel," he explained, though Golden's expression remained skeptical and uncertain.  "It will settle."

Crystal stood on the tips of her hooves to take a peek, spying the thick, gnarled root inside that was the color of sand.  One whiff was all it took to confirm her suspicion.  "Oh!  It's ginger root, Golden.  Ginger root."

That seemed to be enough for Golden as she crammed one of the roots into her mouth.  Her nose scrunched up, but she diligently chewed on it nonetheless.

"Thank you, ah—"  Crystal blinked.  "I'm afraid I didn't get your name."

"Faizan bin Aqila al-Shefa'a."  The name rolled off his tongue like smooth grains of sand gliding through an hourglass.

Crystal struggled to contain her smile.  "Faizan, son of Aqila.  I'm afraid I'm not familiar with what shefa'a translates to, though, but I know it is important."

Faizan's ears perked and he lowered his head to her level.  "Al-Shefa'a: the Healing.  My family is versed in medicinal herbs.  You surprise me, however, little pony.  Equestrians are not named as we are, yet you know of the meaning behind my name?"

"Although I'm ashamed to have discovered my research was not extensive enough, I know at least that much."  Crystal sighed and looked at Golden, who had her eyes closed and was still chewing on ginger root, then back at Faizan.  "I apologize for whatever offense my story may have caused."

"Think nothing of it."  Faizan smiled and straightened back up.  "Djamila is the one who took issue with it.  Wajdi, her brother, argued that the film is intended for Equestrians, and our culture should not restrict it.  You ponies will not understand why the issue exists."

Crystal shifted her hooves, glancing down at them.  "Admittedly, I don't understand the issue, either.  But—"  She jerked her head back up, quickly smothering that train of thought.

It would be terribly rude to say such things to his face.  No, she would just have to accept that what she wanted and what she had planned were no longer relevant.

"I respect it," she continued.  "I respect your culture.  There are so few stories set in Saddle Arabia that I would like to do it justice, even if that is at the expense of my story."

Faizan chuckled.  His muscular yet thin shoulders rolled in a light shrug.  "So be it.  It will be a pleasure to work with you, Crystal Wishes, daughter of Upper Crust, the Writer."

Before she could argue against the formality, he flashed a knowing, playful smile, and she snapped her mouth shut.

"Your friend should find relief," he continued as he turned to walk away.  "Keep the zanjabeel in case the nausea should return."

Crystal nodded.  "Thank you!"  She looked at Golden to urge her to give her thanks, as well, but the mare still seemed to be fighting a battle at keeping her composure.  Crystal smiled and leaned against the railing, looking out across the vast, empty ocean that lay ahead of them.  It filled her with a sudden sense of dread.

A week at sea.  Months of filming.  All that time, she would receive no word from Silent.  Her smile faltered.  Was this really okay for her to do?  What would he think of her having an adventure while he struggled to survive?

Hooves approached at a brisk pace.  "Miss Golden, I—"  The clicking stopped, and Crystal turned her head to see Dusty staring at Golden.  "What are you eating?"

"Finfer," Golden managed around her full mouth.

Dusty looked at Crystal with narrowed eyes.  "What is she eating?"

Crystal returned his aggressive stare with a soft smile.  "Ginger root.  I think she's feeling better already.  I'm sorry to have worried you."

Golden nodded and mumbled, "Forry."

While Dusty made a fuss over where the ginger came from and what it might do to Golden's health, Crystal returned her gaze to the ocean.  The gentle waves glistened under the afternoon sun, reassuring her that it would be all right.  Everything would be all right.

This wasn't an escape.  She wasn't running away from the war, from the support group, from her worries.  She was doing exactly what Silent would want her to do: keep moving forward and not shackle herself to fear.  The thought brightened the smile on her lips.

He would be proud of her, just as she was proud of him.