Daughters of the Sea

by Mister E


Unfinished Business (part 1)

Unfinished Business (part 1)

“Um, excuse me, uh… Dad. Can I come in?” Fluttershy said anxiously, as she banged loudly (for her), on her father in law’s hotel door.

The door opened and a handsome white alicorn stallion answered. “Fluttershy? This is a surprise, please come in, come in. Harmony and I were just going over current events in the crystal empire. Please have a seat, can I offer you anything?”

“Oh, um yes please. A glass of water would be very nice. Hello Harmony.” Fluttershy said, addressing her husband’s sister with a nervous smile.

“Sister! This is a welcome surprise. But what are you doing here? I thought you and mom would be muzzle deep in plans getting ready for the events tomorrow.” Harmony says, coming over and giving her sister in law a brief nuzzle.

“Um, actually, that's why I'm here. Thank you sir,” she says as Justice levitates over to her a glass of spring water.

“Stick with Dad, dear. I like the sound of it,” he says with a grin. “So, what's going on with my wife. For you to come all the way to see me, she must be up to something.”

Fluttershy takes a long swallow of water before continuing. “Yes sir, I mean Dad, something is terribly wrong with Summergale. I've never seen her like this. You're her husband so I came to see you first.”

“Terribly wrong?” Harmony interjects, “why, what's happened.”

“Well, it all started when the diamond dogs unveiled their ship,” Fluttershy says, sighing deeply. All of a sudden Summergale completely lost her cool. She kept saying that she KNEW that ship. That it had followed her, that it was haunting her. The next thing I knew she was dragging me by the hoof back to her cabin on the Equine Spirit. She began to pace back and forth, yelling randomly. She just kept getting angrier, and angrier. I tried to talk to her, tried to calm her down, but it was like she didn't even know I was there anymore. Finally she threw open her closet and said she needed to find her 'Thinking Knives', it was then that I rushed over to get you.”

“Her 'Thinking Knives'?!?” Justice said in alarm, bolting upright.

“Oh goddess, THAT isn't good,” Harmony says shaking her head.

“Harmony, go and find your brother, and meet me on the ship, Fluttershy, you and I are going on ahead. If my wife has gone and dug out her 'thinking knives', no possible good can come of it.” Justice says opening the door, and hurrying out after the ladies.

Less than ten minutes later, Fluttershy and Justice alight on the deck of the ship. No pony was aboard except for a pair of guards at the bottom of the gangplank. The rest of the crew having still been out enjoying the festivities. As they approached the door a muffled thumping noise could heard from the other side.

* Thunk *

“IT’S JUST NOT POSSIBLE!”

* Thunk *

“IT HAS TO BE A TRICK, A FAKE, SOME KIND OF ILLUSION!”

* Thunk *

“WHY? WHY HERE? WHY NOW? THOUSANDS OF YEARS AND THE END O’ THE WORLD, AND THAT BLASTED SHIP IS STILL HOUNDING ME! I MUST BE CURSED!”

* Thunk, Thunk, Thunk, Thunk, THUNK! *

On this last, the tip of a double edged throwing knife appears through the heavy wooden door, passing between the muzzles of both Justice and Fluttershy.

“Eeep!” Fluttershy gasps, taken aback at the anger in Summergale’s tone.

“Steady on Fluttershy,” Justice assures, “It isn’t often I’ve seen her like this, but she can still be reasoned with-”

* THUNK, THUNK, THUNK, CRASH! WHOOMP! *

The crescent of an ax now protrudes several inches below the tip of the throwing knife, the wood of the door splitting under the impact.

“… I think,” Justice finishes, taking a small step away from the door.

“Um, that’s not a knife.” Fluttershy says, stating the very obvious.

“No it isn’t,” Justice replies, his voice tinged with worry. “She’s progressed up to what she calls her ‘Ruminatin’ Axes’. I admit when Cordial conjured up all of her old things, I never expected to see THESE being used again, she must be really upset about something. Fortunately, she can still be reasoned with as long as she doesn’t break out the-

* SKREEE, SKREE, SKREE, THUNK! Ool, ool, ool, thump! *

“Consarn cannonball!”

“Pondering Cannon! Fluttershy get back!” Justice says, just before his horn alights with mystical fire and he sends a bolt of energy into the thick wooden door, causing it to burst into splinters.

A surprised looking Summergale looks up from where she was bending toward the floor just on the other side. A small cannonball was clutched in her hooves.

“J-Justice? What brings you here?” Summergale says as if coming out of a fog. “Me an Fluttershy was just havin a palaver, but yer welcome ta join us. Gimme a minute an I’ll whip us up some sandwiches. Hey Fluttershy! Justice is here! Hmm, I wonder where she went? She was just here a second ago.”

“She’s out here dear,” Justice says patiently. She came to find me about the time the knives started flying.”

“She did? Well now, that’s a thing, must not have noticed her leave. Seems like I was thinkin pretty hard about something, then my cabin door exploded in front of me face and done drove whatever it was right out o’ me head. Hey, that was you weren’t it? Sweetie, what in the name of the Sky Stallion are ye doing explodin doors in a pony’s face? That’s the kind o’ thing some folks might call dangerous. Also, ye owe me a new door. An none o’ that magical stuff, I want real Equestrian mahogany, with some good inlay. The gran youngin’s can float you a loan iffin ye don’t have enough bits.”

Justice looks noticeably calmer. “Don’t put your damage on me dear, you had pretty much ruined that door before I even arrived. You had progressed from your ‘Thinking Knives’, past your ‘Ruminating Axes’, and all the way to your ‘Pondering Cannon’. Or what do you think that cannonball in your hooves was for?”

“Cannonball? What? This?” Summergale says, still a bit out of sorts. “Oh, err, would ye believe I was about to practice me Bocca a bit?” She asks sweetly.

“No.” Justice replies flatly. “Now would you care to explain what exactly had you so worked up that you felt the need to draw steel, and send my daughter-in-law flying to me in a panic?”

“What? Flutters?” She says, her eyes going wide as she sees the expression on Fluttershy’s muzzle as she peeks out from behind Justice. “Oh sweet Zacherle! I’m sorry Flutters. I surely never meant ta be worrin you like that!”

“It’s okay Summergale. I-I just never saw you get so mad before! The minute you saw that ship that those diamond dogs unveiled-”

“THE SHIP! That was it! That BLASTED, THRICE CURSED, FORGED IN THE BLACKEST PIT OF TARTARUS, DEMON SPAWNED SHIP!!!” Summergale says, as her face darkens over once more. “OF ALL THE ILL WINDS THAT FATE COULD EVER BLOW MY WAY, IT JUST HAD TO BLOW THAT BLASTED SHIP BACK INTA ME LIFE! HOW! HOW!?! ALL THESE YEARS! I THOUGHT I WAS FREE OF IT! FINALLY FREE OF IT! BUT IT’S FOUND ME ONCE AGAIN! C’MON FLUTTERS! WE’LL GET A BARREL O’ PITCH AN SOME TORCHES AN BURN HER RIGHT DOWN TA THE WATERLINE! THEN WE’LL POUR SOME OIL OVER THE REST AND SET FIRE TA THE OCEAN AROUND IT! THEN I’LL HAVE CORDY CONJURE ENOUGH CEMENT TA-”

*Sploosh*

“Flutters,” Summergale says quietly, in a dangerously calm voice. “I seem ta be covered in pudding. Very cold pudding. Ah, banana I see… and with wafers of some sort.”

“That would be my fault mom.” Discord says, walking up behind his father, Harmony in tow. “Your dulcet tones were starting to alarm the neighbors… in Prance. Also...Cordy?!?!”

“Ah.” Summergale replies, her tone still quietly dangerous. “Well, as you can see, I’ve gotten a hold o’ meself now, so if ye wouldn’t MIND?”

Discord quickly snaps his claw, returning his mother to normal.

Harmony examines the scene. Shattered door, knives and axes strewn about, and his mother quietly holding a cannonball in her hooves. “Should I even ask what this is all about?”

“Well if you won’t, I will,” Justice says, moving toward his wife, and gently relieving her of her cannonball. “Something about that ship has gotten you madder than I’ve seen you in years.” He says, moving close, and running a hoof through her mane, “c’mon honey, we are all family here, what is it? What’s got you so upset?”

“Aww blast ye,” she says punching him in the shoulder playfully, and nearly knocking him from his hooves, “ye know I canna stay mad when yer all close an cuddly like that.”

“Ewww,” Discord and Harmony say in unison, causing Fluttershy to giggle.

{Sigh}, “well I guess ye all have a right ta know. We’ll all be dealin with it soon enough anyway. C’mon inside and find yerself a seat, and I’ll try ta explain.”

The ponies all move inside Summergale’s cabin, Discord and Harmony, conjuring extra seats for everyone to sit on as well as some refreshments.

“Now, ye all need ta know this won’t be easy fer me ta talk about, so you’ll have ta bear with me. It’s me personal shame ye understand? The most embarrassin event o’ me life.”

“That time with the dragon princess and that cargo of charcoal?” Harmony asks.

“No.”

“That time you experimented with magic to shrink cargo to fit more in the hold and ended up with your ship in a bottle?” Discord asks.

“No!”

“That time you and Boots came home drunk at four in the morning after that fight with those traveling troubadours, and had to have a dulcimer removed from your-”

“NO! Will ye all just shut up an listen?!? This was back before I knew any of ye! Back when me heart an soul belonged to the sea. Back when I had just became captain for the very first time. Now shut yer yaps, and I’ll tell ye a tale...


This all happened a long, long time ago. Me an Boots had been sailing for several years under the flag o the same captain that had caught us stowin away on his ship when we we fillies. We had rose up from bein cabin colts ta bein well respected members of the crew.
Now ya gotta remember that me an Boots were still real young back then. The lures of drink an easy companionship didn’t have a hold of us as strong as it did me other crew-mates. We was in it for the sea! For travelin to exotic ports o' call, for meetin new races, tryin new foods, seein new critters, and customs. While the rest o the crew was spendin all their wages on wine, mares, and song, Boots an I had been squirrilin as much away as we could. See, I had a plan…

“What do ya mean this’ll be you last voyage?” Me grizzled faced captain asked me.

“Just what I said captain. Ye can’t know how much it means ta me an Boots, all that ye done for us over the years, but when we come back inta port at Sorraia, I’m afraid we’ll have ta be partin ways.”

The captain goes quiet for a minute, lost in thought. “Was it something I did?” He finally asks. “Did I step out o line with ye? I know I can be a bit course at times, especially with that demon rum in me...”

“What?!? NO! Never think such captain!” I said, shocked that he would think such a thing. “You were a fine captain ta us! Like a second father ye were! Never let yourself think otherwise!”

“I see.” He says, a look of relief crossing his muzzle. But then his brow furrows once more, “But then if that’s the case, why are ye leavin? I thought you two loved the sea! Nay I KNOW ye love the sea! I can see it in ye, both of ye. The two of you are part fish. How could ye think about givin it all up?”

I laughed loud and long, “give it up? Don’t be daft ye old sea dog! I could no sooner give up breathing. Naw yer thinkin the wrong direction. When we get back, me an Boots are buyin a ship of our own!”

Me old captain’s eyes go wide, “yer WHAT?!?”

“Aye,” I said, grinning ear to ear with pride. “Boots an I have it all worked out, we’re gonna pool all the money we’ve been savin up and buy Scudder Tradle’s fluyt. He hasn’t taken her out in two seasons, and hasn’t done any work on her in three. He’s done. Been puttin around the idea that he might be willin ta sell her, but hasn’t found a buyer yet. The shape it’s in, we should be able to get it for a song, an if we fix it up ourselves, we should be able ta save enough bits ta be able to finance a late season run ta Prance. If we can get that in before the storms start up, then we’ll be sitting pretty for next spring.”

The captain looked down at me as if I were crazy.

“You're crazy!” He says waving his hooves in the air. “Stark raving bonkers. Scudder is done all right. I knew it last year. He’s been more an more lax about the shape of his ship an his crew. Ye say that he hasn’t done any work on her in three seasons? More like a year and a half! There’s timbers that need replacing, the mast is cracked, the hull is covered with barnacles, and the whole thing could stand to be dry docked and tarred from stem ta stern. It’s a floating wreck.
But let’s say it’s still afloat when we get back ta port. An let’s say he is willin ta sell it to ya before it sinks itself. Do you honestly think that the two of you, by yourselves can possibly get her ready ta make a run before the season ends? And what’ll ye do for a crew? The only ponies who aren’t already spoken for are either too old, too young, or...” he hesitates, “or are the type of ponies that ye wouldn’t really want sailin with ye”.

“Faugh!” I reply. “I already got all that worked out. Ye only need five or six ponies ta work a fluyt that size. I’ll be captain, so that’s one. Boots will be me first mate, so that’s two. Ole Gaffer that retired last year said he was missin the sea already, and said he’d be willin ta ship out with me, so that’s three. Ocean Breeze’s colt is older than I was when I went out, he’ll make a fine cabin pony, so that’s four. All I really need is a decent back up navigator, and a solid deckhoof, and surely that can’t be too hard to find.”

“Yer serious about this.” My captain said, his tone showing that he was finally starting to believe me.

“I am,” I replied. My voice filled with pride and confidence. By this time next year, you an me will be competing for the same cargoes.” I said grinning.

“By this time next year,” he says his voice cold and serious, “You’ll be standing right beside me, flat broke, an feelin very contrite. Now don't get me wrong Summergale. Yer a fine mate, an excellent sailor, an I love ye like me very own daughter, but you’ll never get that ship seaworthy, you’ll never put together a decent crew, you certainly won’t get any pony ta give ya a run before the season ends, an, no offense darlin, but I can’t even imagine callin you ‘captain’.”


Well, that was the first an only time I ever had a fight with the old stallion. We were both stubborn, and we both thought that we each was in the right. Naturally o course, one of us had to be in the wrong. Thing was, I wouldn't even consider it was me, an of course the captain is never wrong on his own ship, so that final voyage was one of the hardest me an Boots ever had.
Captain never worked us so hard before. Every night we'd go to our bunks diamond dog tired, only to be back up at the break of dawn and do it all over again. At the time we figured that this was his way at getting back at us. For making us suffer for what he must've seen as a betrayal. It wasn’t until over a year afterwards, the next time we crossed paths, that I realized it was his way of making it easier on us ta say goodbye. The old sea dog knew we had already made up our minds, an although we didn’t know it, he had silently given us his blessing. Ah the old coot, we loved him, an he loved us an that’s the truth of it. But at the time we were ready ta chew nails an spit fire.

“That’s the third time this week we had ta swab the decks. If we make ‘em any cleaner we’ll be seeing the bottom of the hold! Captain’s gone daft he has!” Boots complained bitterly ta me, two days before we were finally due to get home.

“Aye Boots, I reckon the old coot had ta put us in our place while he still could. But just think about it. Two more days ta go. Two more days an then we’ll have our own ship. You an me will be the ones in charge! No more swabbin the decks. No more cleaning barnacles off the hull. No more sewin stinkin salt filled canvas! Aye Boots just think, by this time next week, we’ll be masters of our own fate!”

“No.” Scudder Tradle said two days later, shaking his head ruefully.

“Whadda ya mean no?” I ask, shock apparent on my muzzle.

“I said no, I aint sellin you me ship,” he says, his voice growing stern.

“But...but, ye put word out that ye might be interested in sellin her. Ye haven’t been out all season. She’s prectically fallin apart! Ye can’t say we aren’t offering enough bits, you an I both know I’m offering way more than she’s makin ye sitting there rottin away.” I say, tryin ta keep the desperation out of me voice.

This was it, this was everything me an Boots had been working so hard for, an here Scudder was, tellin us he wasn’t going to sell.

“I didn’t say I wasn’t going ta sell her,” Scudder fires back. “I said I wasn’t gonna sell her to YOU.”

“But… but why? I don’t understand. My bits are as good as any pony’s. An I came by ‘em all honest, why won’t ye sell me yer ship?”

“You want me to spell it out for ya? Fine! This here ship may not look like much ta ye now. But in her prime, she was the fastest ship in all of Sorraia. I had her special made see. From the ironwood mast, ta the pony’s perch, ta the special keel I had made ta make her be able ta turn sharper and still not capsize. This ship is a true wonder o’ design, it won the great grain races every time I entered her. She’s special she is. And if an when I do sell ‘er, it’ll be ta some pony that I know will treat her right an proper. That’ll make her great again. I want ta live ta see that I does, and that ain’t gonna happen iffin I sell her ta some wet behind the ears cabin ponies who happen ta have a pocket full of bits. No means no, an that’s final!”

Well, that did it. Me an Boots were scuttled even before we set sail. I didn’t know what ta say. We had all these plans, we had it all worked out. Now what was we supposed ta do? Go back to our captain with our tails between our legs? Tell ‘em he was right, and we were just foolin ourselves? We couldn’t do that. We were too young, too full o’ pride.
It was too late in the season ta sign on with another crew, that just left going back to our parents, which ta us at the time, was the same as admitting defeat.
So there I was, staring Scudder in the face, all me dreams shot ta Tartarus, an then I did something I never did before.
In my defense, I was still very young. An at the time I didn’t even realize I was doing it until he tole me.

“What are ye doin girl?” He asks, once I had started. “Now just you knock it off. That kind of thing don’t work on me, yer just wastin yer time.”

I wasn’t aware of it, but Boots had been staring at me. After seeing what I was doing, she started doin it as well, said she couldn’t help it.

“Aww c’mon now, quit it the both of ye. Look, it’s nothin personal, I just have ta look at what’s best for me ship.”

That just made it worse, as he quickly saw.

“Oh sweet Zacherle, will ya both please just stop? I’m sorry okay? I’m sorry. Listen, just tell me why ye want me ship. Give me yer reasons. I’ll hear ya out, THEN I’ll make me decision, that’s fair right? More than fair. So will ye both please stop crying?”

“You… you were crying?” Justice interrupts, his surprise causing him to break Summergale’s narrative.

“Aye,” She says, looking up into his eyes. “It’s not somethin I’m proud of. But I was young, an that ship represented me future. An all of a sudden me future was taken away from me. I didn’t know how ta respond. The next thing I know, water was leakin out of the corners of me eyes. An then it became a waterfall. An then Boots saw me and that set her off. An here was poor ole Scudder used ta dealin with rough an tough saliors, and suddenly he’s got two weepin mares on his hooves, and it put him all out of sorts.
Well, he finally got us calmed down, his wife made us some tea, with a bit of rum in it ta settle our nerves, an he gave us a chance ta explain ourselves. An that we did. We told them everything. From the time when we both stowed away, ta what we had planned for our future. We went on an on about how much we loved the sea, and how we planned ta spend the next few years going further an further past the edge of the map. We all heard the stories ya see. Ships blown off course, finding exotic new islands, only ta never find their way back to ‘em. We all new there were places still out there, places no hoof had ever trod yet. An me and Boots planned ta see ‘em.
Well what we said must’ve struck a chord in Scudder. As we sat there we could see the old fires rekindle in his eyes. It was the same fire we felt in our hearts. It was a call as old as time. The call of the sea! It sang in our veins, in the veins of all sailors. It was like our blood was a guitar string that had just been plucked. It thrummed inside of us.
There was a moment there, between the four of us. A moment where no words needed ta be said. We all felt the same thing, an we all knew what it was. And I knew without askin that we had given him the answer he needed ta here. An I wasn’t the least bit surprised when he added a special condition ta him sellin us his ship. An that condition was that he an the missus got ta be part of our crew. This turned out ta be about the luckiest break we could have asked for, since Scudder knew everything there was ta know about getting her shipshape again.
By the next week we had our full crew. We had ole Gaffer, whose real name was Swift Squall, although he never used it. Scudder, an his wife Vanilla Wafer, Ocean Breeze’s kid, Salty Breeze, Boots, an meself. Vanilla was our ships cook, an kept us patched up. Salty was our cabin pony, Scudder our lookout, and Gaffer in charge of keepin everything fixed up.
Now back then since there was only six of us, we also had the shared duties o’ keeping the ship running. All of us had three or more ‘unofficial jobs’, an we all took turns teachin each other what we didn’t know. Turns out me an Boots, did most of the learning, despite all of our time at sea. See we were pretty good as mates aboard a ship, but as we quickly found out, a captain an a first mate had to be able to do know how ta do EVERYTHING on a ship, just in case somepony got hurt, or so they’d know what ta do in an emergency. We got schooled pretty quick in everything from the proper wood for a mast, ta how old is TOO old when it came ta preserved food, as well as how ta make it all eatable.
Every day for the first four weeks was filled to the minute with ship repairs and lessons. We were all trying ta get the ship ready as fast as we could in the hopes of gettin in just one late run ta Prance and back before the end of the season storms hit and made the routes turn treacherous.
Scudder still had ponies in the know, an several were willing to offer us up cargos to deliver to their people in Prance. He told us of several Prench business ponies who always were lookin for a ship ta send goods back ta Sorraia, so he was confident that if we got there, that we could look forward to a full hold coming back.
It was back breaking work. Scudder had let too much go fer too long. He must’ve been in a decline before me an Boots came along and lit a fire back in ‘em. One thing was certain, he was sure regrettin it now. On the other hoof, he was right there with us, workin just as hard ta help get ‘er ship shape again. An we were quick ta find out he knew more of what did an didn’t need fixin than we did.

“What’ll we do about the mast,” I asked him as we toured thew ship that first day, me followin behind him with parchment and quill, writing down everything that needed to be replaced.

He looked at me in confusion.

“Wadda ya mean DO about it? It’s a mast, it holds up wood an cloth an bits of rope, pretty sure you should know that already.” He says, smiling at his own wit.

“No yer daft old codger, I mean shouldn’t we be lookin ta replace it? Isn’t it cracked?” I say, pointing a hoof at the deep vertical marks running up the length of it.

“Cracked? CRACKED?!? Your the one that’s daft if ye think THAT mast will ever crack. Haven’t ya ever seen ironwood before? Go take a close look at them markings.” He said, making a shooing motion at me.

I went over to the oddly colored mast, and had meself a good look. Sure enough, what I, and my former captain took to be cracks was really just lines of a dark black color running vertically across the grain. I never saw wood like that before, and I said as much.

“Aye, not many ponies know about ironwood. It comes from across the sea. I got me mast when I was ported in a city called Doneighgal. Ironwood grows down in the moors. It’s terrible hard to cut down, dulls saws an axes inna hot minute. Ah, but when ye finally get a finished piece! Look well Summergale an remember this, that there mast will outlast all of us, an that includes young Salty. Ironwood doesn’t rot, or not that I’ve ever seen, an even though she bends, she’s nigh ta unbreakable. Truth be tole I’dve made the whole ship outta ironwood, and ta hells with the expense iffin the stuff wasn’t so thrice cursed heavy! Why it took eight strong Minotaurs ta set that mast in place. Naw Captain, trust me on this. If this ship ever got dashed ta bits, grab hold o’ that mast, cause I can guarantee that it’ll still survive.”

Little did I know just how right his words would turn out to be.

Well, it took us a lot o’ hard work and more than a few sleepless nights, but we did manage ta get her shipshape, and loaded. By the time we set sail we had all gotten used ta each other pretty well, and had a feel fer our new jobs.
I got a bit of a surprise the day before we shipped out. I had been getting me kit stowed away in the captain’s cabin, goin back an forth from the docks, an when I had just brought me last load inside, I saw a package I had not noticed before lying on me bed.
Well, I put down my load and opened it, an inside was as fine a captain’s hat as I had ever seen. Black as midnight she was, with fine silver trim an a weeping plume that swept the air in a jaunty fashion. Also with it was a beautiful new cutlass, me very first blade, and the same one I wear ta this day.
As I was marveling over me prizes, Boots came running in all frantic and panting.

“Summergale, ya have ta see, lookit what I found wrapped up in me cabin!” She says hovering in the air, waving her lower legs about.

It seems Boots had gotten a gift as well, for she was now sporting a pair of the finest calf length boots I had ever seen. She sure was a sight. Kept hoverin there almost as if she was afraid t let ‘em touch the deck.

Well we spent a few minutes admiring each others finery, before she finally asked. “Who do ye reckon they came from? Mine didn’t have a note or anything. Ye reckon our folks got ‘em?”

This was possible, but doubtful. Both our parents were holding their own, but finery like this didn’t come cheap. Nor did I think that it was any of our crew. Even if they had the inclination, none of us had the time or the extra bits ta waste on shopping.

Finally Boots says, “Summer… do ye think it was… the cap’n?”

I thought about it. Thought about that last trip, an what he said ta me. Thought about what he put us both through during that last voyage. An suddenly I got an inkling of why.

“That old sea dog! It was all on purpose! He ran us inta the ground ta make it easier on us ta leave! He wasn’t mad at us at all, he was tryin ta help push his chicks out of the nest! An all this time we never even noticed!”

Well, me an Boots got all soppy after that for a bit. We got out a jug and hoisted a few ta our ole captain. But we managed ta compose ourselves before we went back on deck. We got back ta work, like nothing had ever happened, the rest of the crew turned heads at our new attire, but none of ‘em said anything, although I did catch a few grins out of the corner of my eyes.
The next day we shipped out. The morning was fine and clear. There isn’t any way ta describe that first morning. The wind filled the sails, the gulls cried, and I stood at the wheel as captain of me own ship for the first time. It was a feeling almost impossible ta describe, but the closest I can come ta is callin it ‘freedom’.
We made the run ta Prance with nary a hitch, smooth sailin all the way. More than a few ponies looked at our ship in surprise, when we came into port. None of them expected a cargo ship arriving this late in the year, nor it seems did they expect ta see Scudder once again.

“We thought you must’ve died, or worse yet, retired!” The dock master said smiling as he met his old friend at the bottom of the gangplank.

“Aye, it was a close thing,” Scudder replied. “But lucky for me this young filly came along,” he says, waving a hoof at me, “and saved me from a horrible life of luxury.”

“Well, well,” he says trotting up to me. “Got Scudder back to sea eh? What’s your name little miss?”

I looked up at him with pride, “Captain Summergale, of the Seawing, at yer service”.

“The Seawing eh? Can’t say I’ve heard of it. New ship?” He asked.

“Well yes an no,” Scudder interjects. “Yusee this little lady has managed to finagle me out of me ship. Only fair that she renamed her. Wouldn’t want ponies ta be confused as ta who ta deal with when it comes time ta load her up,” he says, tipping me a wink.

The dock master looked stunned. He glanced back and forth several times between Scudder and me ship.

Finally he says, “Well! Well, well! If that don’t beat all! I can tell there must be a pretty good tale ta go along with THAT bit o’ news.”

He calls one of his dockhoofs down to him.

“Take over for me Breezy, me an Scudder and Captain Summergale are going out for a drink. Expect me back...oh say… tommorowish.”

Breezy gets this resigned look on his muzzle, like he’s done this a dozen times before. “Aye sir,” he replies dully.

Well, the rest of the evening was a blur. The dock master took us down ta this hole in the wall tavern. As soon as we go through the door, half the ponies in there turn ta give us the eye. I admit I was a might concerned at first, until Scudder trotted in. All of a sudden, half o’ them grizzled sea dogs leap up outta their chairs an come over ta welcome us. Seems like Scudder was well known an greatly missed around these parts.
Well next thing ya know the dock master gets us ta tell everypony how an why we ended up in Prance this late in the year. At first they couldn’t believe that Scudder sold us his ship. But Scudder told them that we were the real deal. An that even though we were young, that he couldn’t have found a better pony ta pass on his legacy to.

“Legacy?” I asked. “Yer ship was that big o’ deal?”

“Big deal?” The dock master explodes, nearly spillin his ale. “Ya mean ta say that you don’t know about the ship you just bought?”

Every pony in the bar turns ta face us. Some are shakin their heads, some are grinning at us, others are lookin at us like we were the last apples in the barrel at the end of a long voyage.

Finally a grizzled old pony gets up from the bar. He slowly trots his way over ta us on three legs an a peg. The peg makes a steady ‘clonk, clonk, clonk’, as the others move out of his way, almost reverently.
He’s huge despite his age. His shoulders are broad and massive. His long gray mane is festooned with all sorts of things. Baubles, bits of bone, claws, a worn gold bit, even a small skull of some kind.
He leans down on the table in front of us, and gives me an Boots a good once over. His eyes are huge an bloodshot, his breath reeks of stale ale, an what I could only assume was something like a week old fish stew, or so it smelled ta me.
His frown causes a scar under his right eye to pull tight. He’s not happy with us. No, not one bit.

“I think,” he finally says, with a gravelly voice tinged with menace, “that you an I need to have words...”