Intrepid woke up with a sigh. Sleep was not something he enjoyed or looked forward to at all. Too often he had unpleasant dreams and memories haunt his sleeping mind, and too often he woke up long before he meant to because of them.
He sat up and looked towards the window. The sky was painted with the colors of the sunrise, rich and beautiful orange, pink and shades of light red. He would have to go outside to properly bask in its glory.
He looked at the metal prosthetics that were laying on the wooden floor beside his bed. The leg and the wing, detached from his body, still made feelings of fear and anxiety rise in his heart. He could remember losing them to that Tatzlwurm still to this day in excruciating detail. Brutal memories for a brutal life since then.
The old pegasus affixed his leg and his wing carefully and quickly, testing them out by rotating and stretching them out. Once satisfied, he went over to the bucket of fresh water the staff had brought for him and washed his body and mane.
Intrepid picked up his stuffed saddlebags and his poncho and put them on, and with that he was ready to face the day. Outside, the view was even more magnificent than it was from his window. If he looked out to the sea, he could see the sun rising slowly above the distant horizon. The colors of the dawn still danced above Kalpas, making a beautifully vibrant painting in the sky. Seeing the dawn made him think of home, of Equestria and the monarch there who rose it each and every day.
It was a small moment of solace for the stallion so far from home.
“Hey Intrepid.” He was drawn out of his moment by a familiar voice from last night. Waiting just by the door of the Inn was Strata, looking much more rested than himself. “Did you sleep well, old stallion?”
“No, but I’m used to it,” he replied dryly, not wanting to get into it right at this moment. “I thought you would be on a boat to your island by now.” He wouldn’t object to a little more conversation with the young scholar, she seemed like pleasant enough company, but he was curious.
“Would you think less of me if I said I’m a little afraid of this island?” Intrepid raised an eyebrow. He caught exactly what she wanted from him. Her posture and demeanor didn’t indicate fear, but instead that cold disinterest that seemed to be her default reaction except when she was talking about her passion.
“Of course not.” Intrepid reached into his saddlebag and produced a little rolled up tube of paper. Something he’d picked up in Saddle Arabia that had quickly became a bad habit for him. Dried up and crushed leaves of some plant rolled up in paper. He struck a match against the stone wall of the inn and lit the end of his little tube, inhaling deeply. “I go to places that terrify me all of the time. Trust me, I get it.” He breathed little clouds of smoke out of his nostrils. “So you want a travelling companion.”
“If you’re not needed anywhere, I would appreciate one.” She took a step back once she caught a whiff of the smell, like most ponies did. “It is old and the island was abandoned long ago from what I gathered, it seems right up an old explorer’s alley.”
Intrepid mulled the decision over in his head as he took a few more drags. He hadn’t really had a companion of any kind in a very long time, and even thinking about it made his chest tighten and throat start to close. To have another pony’s life so close to yours and so intertwined was panic inducing for him.
But could he let this young mare go to a largely unexplored and potentially dangerous island alone? She wasn’t trained like he was, she was just a curious pony.
“Then one you will have,” he retorted. He would make sure that Strata got out of this alive and completely intact. “Before we find a boat, I need to go to a post office of some sort. I have a letter to send back home.”
“A mare back in Equestria?” This wasn’t even a sarcastic jab that he usually would get, but an earnest question from Strata.
“Of sorts. Not mine, just an old friend.” He would rather keep his private matters private in regards to ponies back home. There weren’t many who still cared about him, but those who did were special to him. Even if they hadn’t ended on the best of terms when he left.
“Fair enough.”
He lead the way, having scoped out the location last night when he first arrived. It was a little building with a flag made to look like a postcard hanging out front just a block away from the dock. He retrieved the letter from his bag, a hastily and poorly written address written on it, the name legible if you took long enough to study it.
“Scratch?”
“I know it’s not all that legible, but I didn’t think it was that bad.” The letters always found their way to their destination, after all. It couldn’t be that bad.
“No, the pony it’s addressed to. Something Scratch.” Intrepid just grunted in the affirmative, not too enthusiastic to delve deeply into the correspondence. He opened a little slat on the door of the post office and slid the letter in. It would take a few weeks for the letter to get there, and he never really expected a response unless he requested one.
“So, do you have a boat?” Intrepid steered the conversation away from him and towards business. “Or is that going to be our first bit of work?” The paper stick he had been puffing on got dangerously close to his muzzle, so he spat it onto the cobblestones below and ground it down with his metal hoof.
“I hired a boat and captain back in Equestria. He’s been ferrying me around the islands and will continue to until I stop paying him.” Strata started towards the docks at the base of the sloped island and Intrepid followed. “He’s serviceable.”
“Mhm.” The elder stallion let that rattle around in his head a bit, trying to figure out the message behind the words. Most likely; good at his job but Strata didn’t like him personally. It was the strongest possibility considering the caliber of pony that Strata was.
The docks of Kalpas were filled with little boats, mostly belonging to the ponies that lived there. Nets and various apparati hung from little booms in the back of a majority of them, marking them as fishing vessels for those that made their living on the sea. Others were simple sailboats with names painted on the sides or sterns, travel vessels for families to go to other islands.
Then, of course, there were the ships the tourists came in on. They stuck out like sore hooves compared to the rather humble craft belonging to the locals. Big unruly things meant for the multi-week voyage from Equestria’s shores and beyond, one of the boats that were fitted more for comfort than function and not his preferred style of travel whatsoever.
“Strata!” Intrepid’s ears swiveled before his head did, trying to locate the sound. It came from a stallion situated on the deck of a small sailboat, the name ‘Elpída’ printed on the stern in faded black letters. The stallion was the same colors as Strata, but inverted; his coat was charcoal black and his mane was a healthy chestnut brown with some gray streaks appearing down the middle of his raggedy mane and scruffy beard.
Strata only waved at the stallion as she made her way over to the boat, Intrepid in tow. The boat itself was nothing to write home about: a little wheelhouse above deck, a sail rising high above with a small crow’s nest at the very top, and a hatch just behind it leading to whatever was below. Those things, along with the various clutter on the deck itself, just marked it as any ship you could see at any dock in the world.
“Who is your friend, my dear?” Now that he heard more than one word from the stallion, he could hear that he was speaking heavily accented Equestrian. It marked him as somepony from Alogos who had learned the second language later in his life. “Is he coming with us?”
“Yes.” Strata called back as the duo made their way down the dock and to the gangplank leading aboard the vessel. She turned back to Intrepid and gestured towards the boat’s captain with a very disinterested hoof. “This is my father, Megála Kýmata. Father, this is my new companion, Intrepid.”
Well that explained the disdain, didn’t it? Who in their right mind would want to travel for days or weeks on end with one of their parents? Intrepid loved his old man, but even he couldn’t imagine staying on a small craft with him for an indeterminate amount of time. It would drive him up a wall, and knowing Strata’s general temperament it was a good chance that wall had been scaled many times over.
“Hello friend!” Strata’s father said with a hearty laugh as he made his way from the deck to meet them at the gangplank. “Please, Intrepid, call me Mega! My name can be a mouthful for your tongue, I know.” Mega held his hoof out for what Intrepid thought was a hoofshake, but when he extended his own to reciprocate the gesture he was pulled into a rather tight hug. That alone let him know that the stallion, while looking a bit bulky, was pure muscle underneath that coat.
“Nice to meet you…” Intrepid squeaked out as he was crushed by the muscular hooves of the sailor. After noticing the pegasus’ slightly blue face, Mega dropped him to the ground and chuckled, letting the stallion take in gulps of air at a time.
“You brought a pony that is more métallo pará aíma!” Mega exclaimed as he gestured to Intrepid’s prosthetic limb. That was something that he didn’t even need a translation to understand, the usual shock to his condition was pretty universal. He could only take it in stride and hold back a sigh.
“Father, that is not nice.” Strata stated as she made her way by both stallions and made her way on board. “Enough with the pleasantries, the both of you! We have an island to get to.” There was the Strata he had first met at the inn, distant and cold.
“It is alright, sir. I get that often, I’m not offended.” Once Mega began moving, he followed onto the deck at a leisurely pace. As soon as his hooves hit the solid wood of the deck and the boat rocked, he was reminded why he much preferred flying over sailing. Even a cloud felt more safe and secure than the deck of any ship he had ever been on.
“Ahh.” The stallion waved his hoof in the general direction of Strata as she flitted around the deck, checking knots in ropes and the security of various things. “She is just like her mother, here to keep me isorropiméni, you know?” Intrepid didn’t know, but he nodded as if he did. Context clues would have to be enough if Mega was just going to speak in a mix of Equestrian and Alogolan, context would be his best friend. “Strata, where are we headed?”
The father and daughter were side by side now, talking in their native tongue at a volume that Intrepid could not hear from this distance above the wind. Rather than sit around like the cripple some saw him as, he let the two know that he was going below deck to get settled in while they talked it over.
He lifted the hatch in the middle of the deck with his metal wing and descended into the murky darkness below. A few windows hovered just above sea level, allowing a miniscule amount of sunlight to come in and two lanterns on either end of the enclosed space. Four small cots lined the walls, chests to store belonging underneath each one. At the far end, just under the lantern, was a desk that was nailed down to the floor. The chair tucked in underneath it was old and worn, obviously well used over the years.
After looking around the cots and knocking each trunk with hoof to check if they held anything, he found the first cot on the left was free of anypony else’s belongings. For the time being, it would be his. He pulled the big unwieldy chest from under the simple cot, finding a woolen blanket and a thick sturdy pillow tucked away inside. He threw both of them on his bed and stashed his cloak and saddlebags away for later.
He had been in this situation enough that sharing sleeping quarters didn’t bother him. The small bed and cramped damp quarters didn’t bother him either. However, he knew the night would bother him. He could already feel sleep evading him when he came down here to sleep, he could feel the lanterns failing to push away the dark. Celestia, he could already feel it closing in.
“Intrepid, come up here and ready the ship with my father!” He heard the muffled yell through the deck, snapping him out of his spiral. He put his good hoof to his face and cursed under his breath as he reigned his wandering thoughts back in. He turned around, shook the fear away and headed back up top.
He had expected Mega to be in the wheelhouse, checking all of the instruments before they cut loose from the dock and doing...well, ship captain things. Instead, it was Strata in the wheelhouse and Mega going about the deck and talking to himself in his native language.
Intrepid had spent enough time on ships with his compatriots and with strangers alike to know what to do aboard a ship. He didn’t know much about sailing as an art, but he knew enough about it as a science. He understood what ropes needed to be loosened, what needed to be tightened and held down. He wasn’t as practiced as Mega, but he only had to ask for help just a few times as they readied to weigh anchor.and set sail.
Once they had shed their mooring and made way, things went in a much more expected manner: Strata went below deck, saying she wanted to check over her notes again, and Mega stayed by the helm and commanded his vessel. Not wanting to simply gaze out at the beautiful blue waters and clear skies while ruminating on his thoughts, he instead decided he would try to strike up a conversation with Mega.
“Hello again, Intrepid!” Mega turned his head and flashed the pegasus a bright smile from behind his big black beard. His eyes, unlike his daughter’s, were a bright shade of violet and filled with happiness. “Tell me, do you travel often?”
“If I’m staying still, I find that a problem.” Intrepid replied with a small chuckle. “It was my job for almost twenty years to travel, so yes.” Intrepid turned his eyes out towards the sea, looking at the small islands in the distance and wondering what their destination might hold. It was that thrill, that unknown quantity, that drove him to keep doing this. It was his addiction.
“Ah, a stallion after my own heart!” The larger stallion looked about at his compass, then to the wind vein situated at the front of the ship. Intrepid could see the gears turning as he put the two together, then nodded happily. “You must have some stories then, huh? Of thárros kai gennaiótita?” Intrepid could only hazard a guess as to what those last words even meant, but he had a good enough idea to push ahead.
“A few…” He took a deep breath, letting his mind linger on a few of his more positive experiences. “I am retired now, so my adventuring days are behind me. I am far too old and beat up to do most of the things I did when I was younger.” To punctuate his point, he rattled his metal appendages.
“How old are you, friend?” The question was not one he was expecting, but he wasn’t offended. His body, minus his fake limbs, looked younger than his face and rapidly graying mane did. Often times the guesses he got for his age were either ten years too young, or fifteen years too old.
“Fifty-Three.” Intrepid took a step forward so he was standing right beside the hulking stallion, partly so he could better read Mega’s face as he spoke, and partly to get a better view of their surroundings. “My birthday was just a few weeks ago, so…” He let the thought trail, not wanting to get caught up in that mess of a date. “You?”
“I am turning fifty in a few months.” That was a surprise. If Intrepid had to guess, he would have pegged the stallion as almost sixty at least. That was life at sea though, not good for the body but great for the soul...just like any good job should be.
The two shared a comfortable silence after that, just gazing out at the sea. Every few minutes, Mega would point out an island on the horizon, or something in the ocean that he saw to tell the older pegasus what it was. It wasn’t until almost an hour later than any sort of substantial conversation was had.
“You...in your years, you have seen thánatos…” Mega hummed grumbled as he thought of the word in Equestrian for Intrepid to understand. “...death.” He finally said. “I can see it in your eyes, you have something my father called the koíta to fántasma. The look of the ghost.” That was not something that the stallion wanted to talk about, not ever.
“Yeah…” He said with a sigh after a few moments. “Too much of it.” Out of habit, he started to tap his metal hoof against the deck, it wasn’t constant or rhythmic, it was nervous and shaky. “Have you?” At that question, he saw the sailor’s seemingly ever present smile die just a little. In Intrepid’s mind, it was fair play to ask the same question...but at that moment, he felt awful about asking it.
“I…” The stallion sighed and cursed in his native tongue. “...when I was young, I wanted to help ponies.” Intrepid nodded, he could empathize with that feeling. What pony did not want to help? It was practically in their blood. “I had a boat my patéras passed down to me, and sometimes storms got out of hoof, you know? I went out, helping deliver food and water to islands that were hit by these sklirés kataigídes...bad storms.” He saw those violet eyes darken and a frown cross his features for the first time. “There was a...typhoon. It was rogue, came from somewhere in the sea, and it hit Kreváti Alogo like Dichónoia himself.” A bitter chuckle came from Mega’s chest. “I remember...I remember, the first thing I thought when I saw it after...was…’how can so much rain cause so many fires?’”
Intrepid could only frown. He knew the pain, of being to late...of seeing such destruction and death. It was not something a lot of ponies walked away from and kept the ability to smile whenever they felt like it. So, at least he knew that Mega was strong beyond his just his body.
“I helped get rid of the dead, and I helped ease the dying.” There was pride in that statement though, pride in knowing he had done his best and helped. That was something that Intrepid could admire...not something he could relate to, though. “What about you?”
“I was an explorer…” He closed his eyes and dragged himself back to those time, to the one time in particular that he could say he looked death in the face. “Whenever we had to go somewhere dangerous, we were sent out in groups. We were in a group of five, a pair of siblings, an earth pony, my...my bestfriend, and myself. We were at a place known as ‘the Edge of Equestria’. It’s a giant cliff in the Undiscovered West; can’t see to the other side...can’t even see to the bottom.” He shook his head and fought through his every instinct to stop and shut up, he would have to deal with these memories, just as Mega had with his. “We were going along, looking for some way down or across, and we were attacked by this giant worm, a tatzlwurm. A giant scaled thing with...horrible jaws lined with hundreds of teeth...and these tongues coated with razors. It got them all, every single one of them...except me. It took their lives, and all it took from me was my leg and my wing.” It wasn’t the long version, it was spared the more...gruesome details, but it was still the truth.
“Ah…” A strong hoof reached out and patted the pegasus on the back, right between his wings. “I am sorry, nopony should see death that close.” for what it was worth, Intrepid didn’t know if he meant that close in terms of distance, or that close in terms of who was lost. “Time cannot cleanse us of the stench of death, it is not a wound. It is a nósos, a sickness. It will come back, and we have to fight it each time.” Another pat on his back. “Be strong, friend.”
Another silence followed, this one a little less comfortable than the last. It was good though, it was the silence of two ponies who understood each other more than they had before. It was a long while before either of them spoke, this time it was Intrepid who said something first.
“How long until we get to our destination?” It was the first word said in what, two hours? The sun was just past its peak and now headed down to the horizon, so they were after noon now.
“The winds should be favorable, and the weather will be clear.” Mega searched the horizon and smiled softly. “A week, if it holds.” Another pause, then the larger earth pony stretched and let out a groan as a few bones in his back popped. “Will you get Strata? I think my cot is calling for a nap if I am to sail through the night.”
Intrepid nodded as he stepped out of the wheelhouse and onto the deck. The sun beat down on his gray coat, the wind blowing the salty sea air through his mane. He took a deep breath in, savoring the fresh air and trying to ignore the swaying of the deck beneath his hooves. All things said and done, this perfect of a day could get rid of any bad thoughts that he had been harboring.
He made his way to the hatch that lead below deck and threw it open before going down himself. Below, was just how it had been earlier, not a thing changed...except now Strata was sitting at the desk, papers and various journals strewn about.. The mare herself was deep in thought, tapping a hoof against her head as she poured over her notes and research.
“Strata.” His voice was level, but raised just enough for her to hear them over the waves hitting the hull. It was enough to catch the mare’s attention and turn her head to the source. “Your father wants you to relieve him, he said he wants to nap before he has to take over for the night.”
Strata looked back at him from behind her spectacles, her bright blue eyes flitting about as she looked him over. There was a silence as she either contemplated his words or her own upcoming actions, he didn’t know wich. Either way, it was a moment before she did anything.
“My father thinks this is a bad idea.” She stated flatly as she stood up and advanced on the pegasus. “He’s an old pony, mired in tradition and superstition. He thinks it’s best to let the dead rest, even more so when it comes to a god.” Intrepid could only cock an eyebrow. “What do you think?”
“Hmm.” It was a very narrow line, he felt. He was going to be spending the next week on very small ship with two ponies who were on two sides of the same issue. In order to not get on anypony’s bad side, he would have to play this safe. “I believe that as long as we respect the dead when we are conducting our expedition, we will be fine. Do not disturb any remains, follow any customs that might be appropriate. The last group we want to upset is that which that can’t die.”
The answer seemed to be satisfactory for Strata, who just narrowed her eyes in thought and then nodded. She put a hoof on his shoulder as she moved by him, gently pushing him out of her way as she made her way above to take over for her father. He only nodded, more to himself than Strata, and then moved to his cot.
Sometime later, once the set was well on the horizon and beginning to dip down, Strata came back down and roused her father. The two exchanged a conversation in the local language, he guessed so he wouldn’t intrude on any family matters, then went about their business.
Once Strata sat down at her desk, she went back to studying her various notes and journals. Intrepid opened his mouth to speak, just small talk, maybe about the weather...but he decided against it. He would let her work for now, deduce what she could from what she had. He decided that he would try to get a headstart on sleep, instead.
He used his good front hoof to wrench and twist his prosthetic until it came loose with a slight pop. He did the same with the metal wing, working at it over the course of a few minutes until it gave way, exposing the twig-like stump that extended a few inches out from his body to the damp air of the ship’s living quarters.
He could only let out a sigh of satisfaction as he dropped his appendages into the chest. It felt good to be without those at the end of the day, it almost made him forget how he got them in the first place. It wasn’t until he caught a glimpse of the mare at the other end of the room staring at him that he regretted taking his limbs off.
“Do they hurt?” The question was cold and clinical, just as Strata always was it seemed. He couldn’t be mad at her curiosity, almost everypony he met had asked a question in a very similar vein. It was just the nature of creatures, he supposed.
“No.” He looked down at the marred indentation where his leg had once come out. He had lost the whole damn thing in the accident, right up to the shoulder. Now, it was just a dent, a little pothole. “I don’t really feel them. But when I take them off...well..” He rubbed the spot with his good hoof and frowned. “...I can still feel it. The wing isn’t so bad, but the leg can get a bit frustrating.” Now he could only hope that Strata wouldn’t ask him how his limbs worked, because he had no earthly idea. His best guess, and probably the simplest, was ‘magic’.
“Interesting.” Was all he received in return. Just simple, one word, no inflection. Honestly, he appreciated it. It was a nice change of pace from the difficult and annoying deluge he usually faced from the more socially inclined ponies.
“Have you found anything else about our island or this ‘Typhon’ character?” He decided to shift the conversation towards something far away from him, about a week away. Plus, it would give his mind a rest and allow Strata to come out of her shell. He would relish in the former, but enjoy the latter.
“There is one mention of Typhon…” She drew a thick book from one of the drawers of the desk, muttering as she flipped through its pages until she found the one she was looking for. “...Ah! Here.” She tapped the page. “The hero ‘Spathí’, savior of Ypsilí Orasi from the ‘Patéras tou Tératos’...Father of Monsters.” She gave her eyes a little roll as she thought over her next few words. “He’s mentioned a few times, just in various works throughout the classical era. Though in one work, Amphora’s ‘Gods and Terrors’, he’s mentioned by name. Typhon, Father of Monsters and blight of the gods” She turned to look at Intrepid. “It’s the only thing I could find linking the name to anything in Alogos mythology.”
“A tomb at the site of an ancient battle.” Intrepid surmised with a nod. “A mighty last stand, a hero fighting some terrible monstrosity and defending the home of the gods.” He closed his eyes, just imagining some ancient pony with a sword dueling with some snake-headed monster, wings coming off of its body at ridiculous angles and fire pouring from its mouth. Of course, that would be one helluva tale.
“My thoughts exactly, a tomb for the foe and a shrine for the hero.” Strata turned back to her work and closed the tome she had pulled. “But we will just have to wait to find out the truth, now won’t we?”
He supposed they shall.