//------------------------------//
// Red Sky of Morning 1: Storm Clouds On the Horizon 
// Story: Odyssey of a Thief 
// by Carapace 
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Truth be told, Twilight Sparkle hated violence. 

It was that, above all else, that so often stayed her hoof and kept her spells mostly focused toward the benign or strategic, if she were charitable—cowardly, if not—in times of conflict. That distaste for blood or the sight of another creature in pain, coupled with her teachers’ lessons, which drove her to use wit, not brawn, to resolve the bulk of her problems. 

Run-ins with Fido, Clifford the Big Red Bumbler, and the rest of the pups and a couple other incidents aside, that is.

The self-proclaimed Princess of Thieves forced a smile as she ground her teeth together and did her best to remind herself of that fact, even as the ship’s owner and captain each leveled her with flat stares from behind the wooden podium. The former, an older unicorn with graying mane and a patch over his left eye, tapped his hoof against the edge.

“Two hundred gold pieces or your cargo doesn’t sail, Miss Sparkle,” he spat in his gravelly voice. A crooked, yellow-toothed scowl marred his aging face. “Take it or leave it.”

Maybe what small remnant of her conscience lingered would forgive her if she just threw him into the harbor. She could skip him right across the surface like a pebble across the crystal clear pond in the Royal Gardens of Canterlot.

That would get her message across quite nicely.

And, if Celestia or Luna were here, it might earn her a long lecture on how just because they took up arms and threw themselves into the fray to try and tame two continents didn’t mean it should be a default answer.

With a heavy sigh, Twilight flicked her tail and said, “I’ve seen your rates and compared them with other companies in the harbor, Clipper. One hundred gold pieces for twelve tons and a bit is quite generous.” She arched a brow, tilting her head toward the docks on the opposite bank. “I’ve already spoken with White Cap. He’s said he’d take sixty—why should I pay over triple that for you?”

“White Cap? Ha!” the captain, Wave Crest, said with a grin. “That moron wouldn’t know port from starboard on his best day! You’d be run aground before you even got out of Riptide Bay—and then you’d have to pay us to tow him out!”

Well, that certainly explained the state of White Cap’s ships. Not to mention such low rates. Still, Twilight kept the frown off her face. 

Being a thief didn’t mean she didn’t know how to twist someone’s hoof on pricing a bit. Clipper and Wave Crest were her first choice, but far from her only one. She had options.

White Cap just so happened to be her last—evidently, for good reason.

Rather than simply concede, she simply hummed, inclining her head to the docks a just a short walk up the path. “Then I suppose I’ll go back to—”

“Who?” Wave Crest cast a look back over his shoulder, waggling his ears, that damnable grin still splitting his features. His gaze lingered a moment, then, slowly, he turned to face her again, that grin mercifully absent from his face.

This time, Twilight had to bite the inside of her cheek to hide a smirk. Game to Sparkle.

When he next spoke, there was no lingering trace of amusement or smugness to be found in his tone. Rather, there was just a hint of bitterness. And a boatload of disdain. “Now, see here a minute,” White Cap said, forgoing that lazy posture he’d taken, his hooves hitting dock with a loud double thud. His brows furrowed in a heated glare. “You can’t just come over here from Equestria and start shopping around gold like this!”

“Actually, I can.” Twilight beamed. “If there’s one constant on both continents, it’s the power of money and that of the holder’s decision to spend it. I hear you two have a bit of an issue with Typhoon and Sons.”

“Those crazy pegasi sail straight through storms!” he blurted. 

Clipper turned and spat off the side of the dock. “Most of ‘em, anyway. Only ones they stop for are the ones she brings through.”

White Cap’s head snapped around so fast Twilight would wager his muscles strained, a scandalized look worn upon his face as plain as day. “Don’t talk about her, you daft fool! Or her children! You know what happened to the last crew who did and set sail right after!”

“Sorry, lad.” Clipper had the grace to look sincere. He bowed his head low by way of respect. “Darn fools. Should’ve known better to sail these waters after seeing a red sky in the morning.”

Her ears twitching, Twilight fixed the pair with a raised brow. “Surely you don’t believe that old superstition. A red sky doesn’t mean anything about the ferocity of a storm.”

The pair of sailors paid her no mind. White Cap swept his hat off his head and wrung it between his hooves, murmuring, “A morning just like this one.” The captain glanced out over the bay, out toward the horizon where a sky as red as a raging inferno loomed. A visible shudder ran through his body, White Cap shook his head, then stepped back and away from Twilight. “Sky like that, I’m not sailing until the storms pass us by. You couldn’t pay me enough, Miss Sparkle. And if you were as smart as you like to act, you’d rethink your own plans and get ready to hunker down.”

Twilight’s brows disappeared beneath her bangs. Surely he couldn’t be serious about this. “You’re going to walk away from a potential client over a storm?” she asked, scoffing. “You complain about Typhoon and his sons, but for a hundred and fifty pieces, they were willing to sail in rain or shine. I’m starting to think you were overselling yourself.”

“I’ve got more problems with that lot than sailing through storms, Miss Sparkle. And that sure as sugarcubes isn’t why I can’t stand them.” White Cap leveled her cold, hard stare. “They’re fools for doing it, but I pity them for it. I pity them, ‘cause, someday, they’re gonna spit in one of their faces and the storm that follows’ll drag the lot of ‘em to the bottom of the sea.”

His piece said, the captain snorted and turned away with a flick of his sea green tail, and trotted briskly toward his ship. His intent, no doubt, to tell his crew to put a stop on all preparations for sailing and get ready to tie everything down for a storm. 

From his podium, Clipper clicked his tongue and sighed. “Head as thick as a mast, that one,” he said, then turned to fix Twilight with a grimace. “And I’m afraid I have to back him on it. We’d be happy to have you and your cargo on board after the storm passes. However, I’ll not move on my price. Two hundred pieces, take it or leave it.” He thumped his hoof against the podium, then pushed off and trotted down the dock leading into town.

That was that, then.

Wait until the storm passed? With Hard Tack back in Nomad’s Vale stewing over what she’d stolen and done to his home, and Fido and Clifford the Big Red Loudmouth hunting for her every day?

There was no time for patience if she wanted to make it back to Equestria with her head in its rightful place atop her shoulders.

Twilight would simply have to take her business elsewhere.

She turned sharply on her hoof and made her way into town the same way as Clipper had. Her jaw was set and shoulders squared, every bit of her posture radiating confidence and purpose.

“Crazy pegasi, here we come,” she muttered under her breath.

What could possibly go wrong with that?





There were times Twilight wondered why she did things to tempt fate. Fate and fortune were fickle, of course, far more so than quite a few of the mares she’d been with in her years.

As she stood on the dock and watched the crew of The Skylark, Twilight found it one of those times. The crew was anything like those uptight, navy ponies she’d always seen in the Trottingham shipping yard.

The crew were like a bunch of rowdy teenagers laughing, hooting, and zipping about through the shrouds and rigging, some even pulling tricks and flips as they went about their duties checking and re-checking that everything had been tied off and ready to embark while others below fooled about as they finished loading cargo. Barrels? Clearly, those were meant to be kicked around and rolled into place. Crates? The perfect launchpad for the springboard into a triple-somersault the young captain, Headwind, performed before landing nimbly on the dock to greet her.

“Ah! Miss Sparkle, back again!” Headwind waggled his ears, casually buffing a cloudy gray hoof on the sleeveless blue vest he favored. “I take it old Clipper and Wave Crest were gonna overcharge like I said?”

Suddenly, two hundred gold pieces seemed like a rather reasonable price. If they were this way with cargo, well … her cargo might just eat them. 

Then again, between the price and their reputation for success, Typhoon and Sons wasn’t exactly a bad option. Far from it, so long as their employers could stomach their—aha—antics.

Gee, isn’t that a pleasant thought? Twilight shrugged, her posture just as laid back as his. “They wouldn’t budge from two hundred.” She raised an amused brow and added, “And they seemed quite scandalized that I’d consider one of your father’s ships. Rather, you and your crew.”

With a roll of his eyes, Headwind snorted. “Those two are still sore they lost a bet on shipping times to my father years ago. Just can’t fathom that a crew of pegasi might know whether or not to sail through a storm.” He shook his head and gave his wings a little rustle. “Ah, well, their loss.”

“And your gain.” Predictably, his feathers fluffed and tail swished eagerly. If there was one constant Twilight had learned in all her travels, it was that daredevils and egoists just loved to hear  how impressive they were—and to his credit, Headwind was right to be proud of the company’s reputation.

Typhoon and Sons hadn’t lost a ship to storms in their history, if the word around Port Sommerset was true.

Fortunately, Headwind was like quite a lot of pegasi Twilight knew—brash and easily distracted with flattery. “Quite so, quite so. Dad’ll be thrilled getting a commission from the Princess of Thieves herself.” 

Her ears twitching, Twilight couldn’t help but beam. “Oh? Why’s that?”

“Well, you know ponies around these parts love a good story about a rebel. Especially any who spit in old Fido’s face!” Again, he waggled his ears. A conspiratorial grin spread across his face. “You gotta level with me, is it true you actually made it into Erebark and got out before that dragon could get you?”

Twilight’s easy smile faltered. How in the world is news traveling so far so quickly? Had Fido’s hunters been spreading word to every coastal town in hopes they might get some creatures interested enough in stealing the crown?

Or, more likely, was it all just an extra effort to get them to bring Twilight’s head back to the pack?

Regardless, she didn’t need more spreading around while they were on her trail. “If I told you, I’d have to toss you off your own ship,” she retorted cheekily.

Headwind’s ears splayed. “Aw c’mon! I’ll knock off thirty pieces!”

Thirty pieces? Twilight bobbed her head. Well, it couldn’t hurt to tell him after they left, right? “After we’re out to see. I don’t want Fido’s hunters catching wind that I’m here and bragging about the thing when they’re already baying for my blood.”

“Heh. Fair enough. It’ll make a good dinnertime story for the boys, anyway.” 

“Then, we have a deal.”

With a nod, Headwind turned toward the end of the dock where his father’s office waited and whistled, bobbing his head toward Twilight. A young colt with slate gray mane and deep blue coat flew over, quick as a flash, with a box labeled “Payment” strapped to his back.

The little tyke was so adorable with his box and the sailor’s cap sitting crooked atop his head, Twilight nearly crooned.

A quick summoning spell brought forth one of the sacks of gold hidden within her bottomless pouch. Something about that bright, innocent smile he wore without reservation played upon her heartstrings and brought her back to days spent studying beside Celestia and Luna. Twilight counted out the bits with the little colt, letting him take charge like he’d been delegating the entire affair.

Once he was satisfied he’d paid in full, the little guy turned to his older brother nodded once.

Headwind gave a solemn nod in return, the corners of his mouth twitching and threatening to betray his amusement. Rolling his shoulders, the stallion glanced toward town. “So, where’ve you got this cargo of your stashed, Miss Sparkle? I’d offer to help you get it aboard, but unless you’ve got it hidden under that cloak, I’m gonna guess we’ll be waiting a bit while you get help bringing it up the dock.”

The young mare couldn’t help the smile that spread across her face. “Oh, my cargo isn’t that far away at all. In fact, I’d like you to meet them.”

He blinked twice. “Them?”

Rather than explain, Twilight turned her head back toward Port Sommerset, angled as if she were about to call to somepony out in the crowd, and gave a shrill whistle. 

Far away though they were hidden, she could hear the sounds of leathery wings flapping, beating against the wind. Her smile broadened into a full-blown grin as she saw the clouds roll off her lover’s opulent white scales as Hadhkûna wheeled through the sky like its master, her great shadow falling over a town full of panicking, screaming sailors and families. Behind her, Twilight heard Headwind, his little brother, and his crew shout and dive for cover.

She had the grace to wince. So maybe she hadn’t quite thought that part through.

Hadhkûna soared over the harbor, then banked around slowly, gliding in for a landing. At Twilight’s gesture toward The Skylark, she adjusted her course to head straight for the docked vessel. 

The mighty she dragon leaned back, flaring her wings out wide to brake, then landed upon the deck with a thud. “Arrived without issue or burning, as asked, darling!” she sang with pride—as though it were some great effort not to immolate a town each time she flew overhead. She turned, leaning about with her long neck to check on her passengers. “Skittershy, dear? Are you and Angel all right?”

A yellow hoof appeared over her shoulder, giving a shaky wave. “W-We’re fine!” Twilight heard Skittershy call back. “Though I think Angel might be feeling a little queasy—ohhh! I told you to slow down!”

“Skittershy, I can only slow down so much if I want to stay aloft!It’s not like walking, you know!”

As the pair bantered back and forth about flight and proper speeds at which baby bunnies could stand traveling, a shuffling of hooves against wood made Twilight’s ears flick. She turned, amusement worn plain upon her face at the sight of Headwind gaping open-mouthed at the sight before him.

“Th-Th-That’s—that can’t be her!” he whispered.

“I can assure you, it is.” Twilight raised her brows. “I did say my cargo was about twelve tons and a bit—I’m not sure what Skittershy’s exact weight is, but you’re more than welcome to ask Hadhkûna if she’s absolutely sure of hers. Though, if you’ll pardon me saying it, that would be more ill-advised than sailing through a storm.”

Her quip seemed to snap him out of his reverie. Headwind glanced between Twilight and the she dragon chatting away with the spider mare on the deck of his beloved ship, then pointed and cried, “By the blessed sun, are you mad? That’s Hadhkûna!”

Twilight’s brows disappeared beneath her bangs.  “Yes. Yes it is,” she replied slowly. “Hadhkûna, conquerer of Erebark, and Skittershy of Mount Thunderhoof.”

“You’re expecting me to transport them?” He took several steps back. “For a hundred and twenty pieces?”

“In fairness, you never did ask specifically what my cargo was and we agreed to add ten pieces for enough meat for the trip. And, if you think about it, she can verify just how I survived entering her mountain if you doubt my story.” 

“But—that—she—they—”

Twilight gave a sweet smile. “She’s sworn not to harm your crew or your ship, same as Skittershy.” Then, she reached into her bag of gold, and pulled out another fifty pieces. “If we make it across safely, I’ll add another fifty for your troubles. Call it compensation for your stress, if you’d like.”

The stallion sputtered a moment, a deep red coloring his cheeks. He turned to look at Hadhkûna once more as if he half expected to find her casually dropping one of his crew ponies into her gaping mouth, his tail flicking in agitation.

After several tense seconds, he muttered a curse under his breath. “Fine,” he grunted. “I’ll have a word with the crew. We’ll finish getting set, then get set to leave.”

Her smile blossomed into a grin. Twilight thanked Headwind, then, in a burst of magic, she teleported from his side to stand before Hadhkûna and Skittershy for the first time since long before dawn. Her day had started far earlier than most, but for good reason.

And, by Celestia’s grace, did it feel good to be in their company again.

“Passage to Trottingham secured,” Twilight reported happily. “No stealing, no fighting, and no injuries, just as promised.”

The pair broke off their discussion and turned to greet her with warm smiles. Though, Hadhkûna’s, admittedly, looked quite a bit more smoldering.

The she dragon lowered her head to nuzzle Twilight’s mane. “Yes, very good, darling. You’ve proven that you can behave and not get yourself into trouble. For once.”

“For once? That scuffle in Nomad’s Vale wasn’t my fault!” Really, it wasn’t. She had gone in with every intent of being good.

It was hardly her fault Clifford the Big Red Dunderhead showed his ugly mug and Hard Tack turned out to be a backstabber. It was, however, her fault that the latter’s house had been dropped upon his thick head.

That’d teach him.

Hadhkûna let out an amused rumble. “Yes. For once.” She licked Twilight’s cheek affectionately, then surveyed The Skylark with a derisive sniff. “Far be it from me to question your knowledge of shipping vessels, this is a rather sizable one and I’m sure I could rest quite comfortably …”

Tilting her head, Twilight fixed her with a confused look. “You don’t like it?”

“Well, it does seem a bit …” she rolled one of her massive claws through a forward circle, her frown deepening. “Frankly? It’s nothing like what I’ve heard those of higher class traveling in—especially one of your station in—”

“Ah! Ah! Ah! No!” Twilight waved her hooves frantically, casting a look back over her shoulder to make sure the crew hadn’t heard. To her fortune, they were busy putting the finishing touches on preparations. Lowering her voice, she murmured, “If they find out that I’m more than just a mouthy little thief, they’ll think I have more money and drive up their rates. Or, worse, word will get out, then I’ll have to deal with the scum of this continent chasing after me!”

The she dragon blew a smoky breath through her nose. “Let them,” she replied darkly. “Skittershy will eat well in that case.”

Skittershy, to Twilight’s horror, didn’t deny it. Instead, her eyes hardened, even as she petted Angel Bunny’s fuzzy little head. When she spoke, her voice was soft, but full of underlying danger, “I don’t care for harming or frightening innocents like my old villagers in Brickenbrack. However, it most certainly wouldn’t be the first time I’ve dined on those who threatened those closest to me—nor the last, if they tried.”

Twilight had to force a smile. The way those two talked about simply eating others, whether out of genuine hunger or retribution for a slight against her, made her stomach churn and brought a wave of nausea. Images of that first meal with Hadhkûna flashed before her eyes.

Her gag reflex decided to voice its displeasure, choking the breath from her throat.

“Well,” she said once she managed to get herself back under control, “I’d rather not entertain the thought of fighting our way out of here.” Or parting with more gold, she added to herself. “So, let’s just keep that to ourselves and let them think I’m just a rare type of pony, not what these wings actually mean back home.”

Her lover raised a scaled brow, but didn’t argue. She and Skittershy, of course, were far older than any living pony on this continent. Alicorns were quite known to them.

After all, Hadhkûna’s idea of fond memories were fighting Celestia and Luna. Repeatedly.

“Very well,” the she dragon rumbled. The corner of her mouth twitched into an amused smirk. “If you wish it, we’ll play your little game. However, I’ll insist that you remain with us during the trip.” She leaned in close, fluttering her lashes. “You’ve been off galavanting in these towns quite long enough.”

An easy request to grant. Besides, Twilight could hardly argue. She’d found it quite a bit more stressful even entering these towns now that she knew Fido had his hunters on her trail—even if those poor mares back in Nomad’s Vale got themselves involved in her mess.

Hopefully, they were able to give them the slip.

On a happier note, time spent with Hadhkûna and Skittershy was far more relaxing, more comfortable for the Princess of Thieves. Ironic, really, given the circumstances of their meeting. But one could hardly put a price on how it warmed her heart to cuddle and be lavished by Hadhkûna and chat with Skittershy when she wasn’t turning her face away from the couple.

“Deal.” Twilight dotted Hadhkûna’s nose with a quick kiss, earning herself another lick for her troubles. As she drew back, Twilight noticed the pegasi hurrying to vault or glide off the ship and onto the dock, all standing before Headwind in line.

Curious, she trotted over and reared up to prop her hooves on the railing. “Everything ready to go?” she called to Headwind. 

The pegasus looked up, shielding the sun from his eyes with a hoof. “All cargo loaded, Miss Sparkle!” he called back. “Just have to visit the Statue of the Storm Mother for voyage rites, then we’ll be ready to get out on the open water!”

Twilight tilted her head. “The what of the who?”

“You’ve never heard of the Storm Mother?” he asked, incredulity written plain upon his face. 

“Not in Equestria, no. Who is she?”

“Who is she, she asks!” one of the sailors groaned. “She asks us to ferry a spider mare and Hadhkûna, and she doesn’t know who the Storm Mother is. Captain, this trip just gets better and better!”

Headwind clipped his ears with the edge of his wing and snapped, “Stow that talk, Waterspout!” Turning to Twilight, he offered a sheepish smile. “Apologies, Miss Sparkle. The Storm Mother, Ouránio Toxo, is … well, exactly what the name implies—the creator of storms and mother of all storm sirens. We’ve got a few around these parts who like to stir up trouble, so we ask their mother to rein her foals in so we can have easier sailing before each voyage.” The stallion held his stare a little while longer, as if expecting her to come to some sort of realization.

It took Twilight a bit longer than she would’ve liked to admit for it to finally click. “You’re joking.”

“When it comes to voyage rites, we never joke.”

Well, that certainly changed her plans. Twilight aimed a sheepish smile at her lover and bowed her head. “Do you mind if I, ah, pay tribute?” she asked. 

The she dragon gave an amused rumble. “Well, it would put a damper on our travels if this supposed Storm Mother sends us to the bottom of the sea.” She shifted, her mighty muscles tensing with sinuous grace as she made to rise. “Here. I’ll come with you.”

Alarm bells rang in Twilight’s head. Visions of screaming foals, scrambling ponies, and glass shattering with the slightest flick of Hadhkûna’s tail made her raise a hoof. “Er, maybe not the best idea. We’ve already scared the entire port, so … maybe not before we go to their important statue.”

“I—now, see here! We let you wander this town by your lonesome after your little incident in Nomad’s Vale! And you promised you’d stay with us after you’d secured passage!”

Before Hadhkûna could work herself up and launch into a full blown rant, Skittershy skittered onto her shoulder to lay a hoof upon her neck. “Hadhkûna,” she said softly, just a hint of scolding to her tone. “She does have a point. If you don’t mind my saying, that is—but I did hear a lot of screams. And you, um, don’t exactly mind your tail sometimes.”

Gaping, Hadhkûna sniffed and turned her nose up. “Well! I never!”

A patient smile spread across Skittershy’s features. “I’ll go with her instead. You know I won’t let her get into trouble again.” As she spoke, she plucked Angel off her thorax and set him upon Hadhkûna’s shoulder. “In exchange, you can keep an eye on Angel for me. He could use a little quality time with his aunty!”

Twilight had to stifle a snort of laughter at the look Angel shot Skittershy in return—scandal, indignation, and just enough petulance to come together in what could only be the the bunny version of “are you nuts?”

No, Skittershy wasn’t nuts. She was just sly in her own way.

A way which earned a thoughtful hum from the great she dragon before she bobbed her head in acceptance. “Very well. But only if you don’t let her out of your sight.”

“Hey!” Twilight stomped a hoof.

Skittershy paid her little mind. “Deal.” She climbed down Hadhkûna’s leg, then, wrapped a hoof around Twilight’s shoulders and guided her down the gangplank to stand on the dock with the rest of the crew.

A shiver swept through the assembled pegasi. Headwind did his level best to tear his gaze away and mutter, “Let’s get this over with before I think on it too much.”





Port Sommerset, while quite a bit more well-off than Brickenbrack or Nomad’s Vale, was a far cry from Canterlot in terms of building design and material. 

The houses were made largel with wooden supports and thatched roofs, the market was a bustling mess of ponies milling about, voices shouting and calling out prices and deals with such frequency it became almost indiscernible. Their volume enough to make Skittershy flinch and lay a hoof upon Twilight’s shoulder so they might stay together.

Perhaps it was that combination of building style, bustling, jostling crowd, and the overall experience on the continent outside places like Olorin’s palace to the southern forest, but when Twilight laid eyes on the Statue of the Storm Mother for the first time, it took her aback. There were statues back home in Canterlot which would’ve been put up against it and fallen woefully short.

The Statue of the Storm Mother had been chiseled from smooth obsidian stone. Upon its surface, there were no signs of blemish or cracking, not even a hint of a the wear of time’s passage. It depicted the visage of not just one mare, but five in total—four smaller pegasi, each dressed in flowing gowns that harkened back to the time of ancient Pegasopolis, each with their eyes closed,  head inclined, and mouths open in mid song, and surrounding the Storm Mother herself.

Just looking upon her face made Twilight’s breath hitch. The Storm Mother stood tall, more so than Celestia herself, garbed in old pegasus armor, with a high crested helmet held under a foreleg. Her wings were spread in proud display of her majesty and wild mane flowed as if whipped into a frenzy by the very storms she and her storm siren daughters heralded. Her eyes were open, the corners of her mouth tugged into a smile even as she sang, like she were an opera singer lost in the joy and fervor of her performance and the forces she controlled.

Even Skittershy had stopped to survey the statue a moment. “The helmet is wrong,” Twilight heard her mutter under her breath.

Ears twitching, Twilight tore her eyes away from the Storm Mother and fixed Skittershy with a quizzical look. “I beg your pardon?”

“Huh? Oh!” The spider mare ducked her head, a sheepish smile playing upon her lips. “Oh, sorry. I didn’t mean to speak so loudly.”

“That’s fine, Skittershy. But, explain.” Out of the corner of her eye, she watched as Headwind led his crew up one by one to kneel before the Storm Mother’s hooves and offer some muttered words. A prayer, she’d wager. “How’s the helmet wrong?”

Skittershy bit her lip. “It’s nothing, really,” she replied softly. Each of her eyes flitted away from Twilight’s face. “Just me musing aloud. Don’t pay it any mind.”

Curious, even for such an odd creature as Skittershy. And the way she squirmed and looked away after making such a statement with all the air with which one might look down at a foal to remind them of whom was older and wiser only further piqued her interest.

If there was one thing she couldn’t stand, it was having some creature know something she didn’t and insist on keeping it quiet.

Unfortunately, Skittershy could be quite stubborn in her own right. Perhaps a function of all those years serving as caretaker for a family of bunnies.

With a little huff, Twilight turned away and strode up to the Statue of the Storm Mother. The Skylark’s crew parted before her to grant passage, though not without a few stray murmurs complaining about her strange cargo.

She simply splayed her ears back to block out their voices. They didn’t get a say in her company, no creature did. It wasn’t her fault she felt more at home in the company of a she dragon and a spider mare than she did any other save her own family and teachers, now was it?

Surely not.

Twilight came to a stop a mere step from the base of the statue. She found herself gazing up at the Storm Mother’s face, much the same way she had looked up at Celestia and Luna when she was but a little filly eager to learn. Only this time, there was less wonder at the knowledge held, more intrigue at the power implied. 

Slowly, the young mare bowed her head. “Who are you, to instill both fear and a need to worship?” she muttered under her breath. Louder, so Headwind and the crew could hear, she added a quick prayer of her own. Little more than respect for her apparent power and dominion over this strange land, then, thinking on it longer, a plea, “I don’t know how much stock I put in this, but these are good ponies with families taking us home. I’ve certainly caused my trouble, and so have my friends, but we’re leaving this land, hopefully for good. If you’re real and if you’re listening, I would ask that you make whatever storms that come our way light and navigable.”

She drew back slowly, her eyes flitting about just to see if there might be anything to hint at the presence of this supposed Storm Mother. There was nothing. No flash of lightning, no rumble of distant thunder.

Just the ever-present chatter of the crowd as they milled about the edge of the little clearing, and a sudden flash of pink glimmering just out of the corner of her eye.

A flash that grew brighter and seemed to draw Twilight to turn slowly and look. Her eyes widening even as she found the source—a pink medallion fashioned in the shape of a butterfly, worn by a mare, perhaps a few years younger than herself, with a newborn foal in her hooves and two little colts leaning against her sides. Only then did Twilight realize that the mare was sitting with her back to one of the houses, her head downcast to show a tangled mess of mane and matted coat. The glowing pendent around her neck served a stark contrast from the tattered rags she and her family wore.

Twilight’s lips tugged into a deep frown. She turned away from the statue, her tail flicking in dissatisfaction. The bags of gold in her bottomless pouch seemed to weigh her down like an anchor.

Did she have time to dally?

Cadence would scold me and tell me that time spent helping another was never time wasted, she scolded herself. Sometimes, she could just kick herself for her need to help.

Curse her bleeding heart.

The Princess of Thieves gave a heavy sigh and trotted over to speak with the family. Her eyes stayed fixed upon her goal.

“Twilight?” Skittershy’s voice called over the crowd. She could imagine the spider mare fretting and sputtering apologies as she tried to fight her way through the crowd without catching somepony with a leg or the side of her thorax. “Twilight, slow down!”

Twilight continued onward, weaving her way through the crowd until she came to a halt just a few steps away from the young mare. As she did, she took a closer look, a sharp pang shot through her chest. 

The mare holding the newborn, she realized, was younger than she thought. Too young to possibly be her mother. Her deep blue eyes showed the slightest glimmer of hope as she looked up and spoke softly, “Do you have any spare gold for a hungry family, Miss?”

Her decision had been made before the poor thing had even asked. That pendant around the young mare’s neck glowed brighter still. Twilight felt a familiar warmth enter her chest, like the light was sparking something deep within her heart. Cadence’s shows of compassion, kindness to those less fortunate or in dire need played before her eyes.

Just like in Nomad’s Vale.

A hoof touched her shoulder. Twilight started, she turned and followed the pale yellow limb up to find Skittershy looking down at her. The spider mare’s brows knitted together. 

“You’re not supposed to run off,” Skittershy chided.

Twilight ducked her head. “Sorry. Just saw something I felt inclined to help with.” She returned her attention to the family, just in time to hear a chorus of little bellies growling for want of food. She arched a brow. “You’ve not eaten?”

The young mare ducked her head. “Our mother is trying to see if she has enough for food,” she murmured. “Whatever she can, at least.”

“I see. And how likely is it she has enough for you all to eat more than a few bites of bread?”

The little wince and averting of her eyes spoke more than the young mare ever could. 

Humming to herself, Twilight reached into her bottomless pouch with a tendril of magic and retrieved three bags of gold. She held them aloft, letting the young mare’s eyes track them as comprehension dawned.

She floated two bags to rest just within the mare’s reach. “Two bags to house and feed yourselves,” Twilight said softly. “Those are yours unconditionally and I’ll accept nothing in return.”

The mare and both little colts gaped at the bags, then glanced up at Twilight. Awe, jubilation, and just a hint of disbelief were written upon their young faces.

“No catch?” the young mare asked. Her hoof twitched toward the bags.

“Not for those two.” Twilight nodded toward the bag still held aloft in her magic’s glow. “I would like to buy that pendant necklace off of you in exchange for this one.”

Skittershy’s hoof gripped her shoulder. “Twilight, what are you doing?” she hissed. “We don’t—”

“It’s pretty and it’s my money anyways, I’ll spend it on what I want,” Twilight cut her off with just a hint of a smirk. Her eyes, however, didn’t leave the young mare’s. “How about it? There’s about three hundred and fifty pieces in this bag—more than enough to feed and clothe a family for a couple months.”

To her delight, those deep blue eyes sparkled. The young mare licked her lips as her own stomach growled, almost on cue. One of her hooves unwrapped from around the foal in her grasp and traced along the edge of the butterfly-shaped gemstone’s wings.

She bit her lip. “My grandmother gave me this gemstone before she died,” she whispered. “It was supposed to bring us luck, but then we lost our house last year …”

“Unless you’re planning to sell it, that gemstone isn’t going to bring your home back,” Twilight replied. Offering the mare a wry smile, she stepped closer and bent down to murmur, “I understand the value of family inheritance, but financial stability and the chance to start again is one many would kill for in this land.”

As she spoke, Twilight noticed something peculiar—the gemstone’s glow seemed to dim, almost like a disappointed mother’s face falling as she heard her own foal lie. 

Curiouser and curiouser with each passing second. What were these gems?

The little mare let out a little whine, gripping the gem tight while her gaze flitted between the two bags on the ground, the one in Twilight’s grasp, and Twilight herself.

She was struggling. That gemstone held such value that she had to wage a war within her own thoughts to justify parting with it for more money.

Even with an ocean between them, Twilight could almost feel her teachers’ disappointed gazes upon her. She could certainly sense Skittershy’s unease with how the spider mare shifted about at her side.

Twilight closed her eyes and heaved a sigh. Slowly, she set the bag down with the others. “I’m sorry,” she said softly. “I shouldn’t make you choose like that. The money is yours. Take care of your family, please.”

Her ears barely so much as twitched at the choked gasp and sputter that came in reply. Twilight turned and trotted back toward the crew, coaxing Skittershy along with a little nudge of the shoulder so they could meet up with a most bemused Headwind once again.

The gentle hoof upon her shoulder never left. Skittershy let out a little cough, then leaned down to ask, “What made you change your mind?”

Twilight hummed and gave a nod to Headwind as she passed him by. “I thought about what Celestia and Luna might say if they saw me dangling money in front of a family like that because I wanted something shiny,” she said after a moment’s thought.

“Oh.” After a beat, she asked, “What did you imagine they’d say?”

What would they say?

What wouldn’t they say if they saw her act in such a manner? Their lectures the days following the discovery of her late night hobby had been quite enough for one lifetime.

Not to mention the disappointment in their eyes.

Those looks still burned her to the core.

With a sardonic little chuckle, she shook her head. “Doesn’t matter,” Twilight muttered. “It was just me being greedy anyway.”

Skittershy sucked in a sharp breath and made as if to speak up, but bit whatever it was back in favor of a discontented little noise from the back of her throat. 

They resumed their walk through town in utter silence, only broken by the crew’s conversation and the sound of pony hooves upon the road.





“Dar~liiiiiing! Do hurry along!” Hadhkûna was leaned against The Skylark’s railing, her long, serpentine neck granting her the chance to twist and maneuver herself to drift low and near the dock. A playful gleam shone in those dazzling sapphire eyes. “Did you see that silly statue and pay respects or what have you to that Storm Mother?”

 Twilight didn’t break stride, continuing on her brisk approach toward the ship with Skittershy and Headwind’s crew following in her wake. A hint of a smile tugged at her lips despite her mood. 

That expectant look Hadhkûna wore, always so eager to hold her attention and receive affection, simply never failed to bring it.

With a nod, she stepped by the gangplank to allow the crew to board first and continued on until she came to a stop within easy reach of her lover’s face. She reared up on her hind legs, nuzzling the great she dragon softly.

Hadhkûna gave a rumbling purr in reply. “Well! It seems the little thief of my heart missed me as much as I did her!” She drew back, her warm breath washing over Twilight’s face, then licked her from the tip of her snout to just beneath her horn, dotting it with a kiss—as much a creature her size could dot one with anything—and added another slow lick for good measure.

Once satisfied, the she dragon nosed into Twilight’s mane and asked, “Did she behave, Skittershy?”

Twilight would be a terrible liar to claim she didn’t feel just a bit of indignity at that remark, but Nomad’s Vale had rather earned it.

Perhaps, then, she could understand why Skittershy giggled and patted her shoulder. “As a matter of fact, she did.” A note of pride crept into her tone as she gave a quick recounting of how Twilight saw that poor family and trotted over to offer them enough gold to feed and house themselves, along with a deal for more.

The she dragon listened with intent, that rumble in her chest growing while she listened to Skittershy speak of that beautiful gemstone and how willing Twilight had been to offer such a sum of gold in exchange. 

When she learned that the younger mare refused the offer, Hadhkûna sighed and clicked her tongue. “A shame, truly,” she said. “The way you speak of that gem made me think of the one Twilight found in Nomad’s Vale, or that one I gifted her from my hoard.”

Instinctively, Twilight reached up to touch her bottomless pouch. A thoughtful frown played upon her lips. “That’s what I was thinking as well,” she said aloud. To herself, well, she could only curse her greed and bemoan the missed chance to acquire the new gem and study it further.

The first had been gorgeous, of course, but something about the other two made it come to life—quite literally!

She had never heard about gemstones that could produce and hold their own light, let alone those which could invoke such raw, intense feeling in her chest.

Or call forth such visions of things that once were or could be.

In any case, there was no use dwelling on the matter. Her good deed had been done, a family would be able to put food on the table, and, a bit more selfishly, she would be away from this crazy continent and home soon enough.

Home at last. No debts hanging over her head, and with a new friend and a lover in tow.

The looks on Celestia and Luna’s faces would be nothing short of priceless, that much was certain. And Shining? Well, if  he thought learning about her penchant for moonlighting as a daring little thief was scandalized, just wait until Hadhkûna came over to meet the family!

Now there was a thought she could savor and look forward to.

The sound of tiny hooves thudding against the dock in a rapid thumpity-thumpity-thumpity! cadence and a couple dissatisfied crewponies grunting and cursing made her ears flick. Then came a chorus of little voices calling, “Wait! Miss, wait!”

Twilight turned to see what caused such a commotion.

Those two little colts who’d been huddled up to the young mare and the foal came galloping up the dock as fast as their little hooves could carry them, undeterred by the sight of a bemused she dragon and stunned spider mare.

They came skidding to a halt, their little chests heaving as they tried to regain their breath. One stepped forward, his hoof clutched to his chest for a moment, then he ducked his head and removed a pendant hanging upon a slender black cord.

Only then did Twilight notice the butterfly-shaped gemstone he’d borne to her, and how it glowed that brilliant pink light once more.

“Our sister didn’t get to call out to you because she was so stunned,” he said in between breaths. “By the time she regained her senses, you were gone, and the gem started glowing again, brighter than ever before!”

“She said she hadn’t seen it glow like that since grandma was alive!” his brother chipped in. His little eyes shone with delight. “She said grandma used to tell her it only glowed when ponies did acts of kindness without expecting reward, and that if it ever glowed like the stars, that our family would give it to the one who caused it!”

“Like she promised her grandmother!”

“And hers before that!”

Together, they finished with grins nearly as bright as the gem’s glow, “And all the way back since the day our family first found it in the Fountain of Astrapi two hundred years ago!”

Twilight felt as though her head was spinning just trying to make sense of everything they said. Their grandmother knew about its glow? And only observed it happening when ponies were kind?

What in Equestria was this thing?

What in Equestria were the two sitting in her pouch, for that matter?

Fortunately, Skittershy hadn’t been stricken dumb. She took a cautious step toward the colts, offering a kind smile that didn’t quite hide her lethal fangs. “Thank you, boys, I’m sure my friend is quite surprised and happy that your sister would ask you to deliver this.” She bent down to accept the gemstone, giving each an affectionate nuzzle.. 

They didn’t recoil, amazingly enough. Rather, they scuffed their hooves upon the dock, gave bashful grins before they shyly nuzzled her in turn, then quickly darted off in a flurry of giggles and hurried goodbyes before any could think to comment.

The spider mare was practically floating on a cloud. “They nuzzled me back! Oh, by the heavens, they weren’t afraid!” Skittershy did a little prancing jig, quite the sight with her form, then scooped Twilight into a tight hug and looped the pendant around her neck. “And you, you silly, sweet mare, were going on about how greedy you were! Ha!”

Twilight couldn’t bring herself to reply. Her eyes were too lost staring into that glowing gemstone, only freed as she slowly turned to glance down at her pouch.

What are you three, really?

“Ready to launch!” Headwind’s voice rang out. “All hands and passengers ready! Miss Sparkle, on deck now, Miss Spider as well, and … er … Miss Hadhkûna if you don’t mind bringing in your neck …”

The mares hurried to obey, even Hadhkûna offered a mildly apologetic grin to the nervous pegasus before she lost interest and instead plucked Twilight and Skittershy straight off the gangplank and into a warm embrace. Angel, naturally, bounced down off her shoulder to take his rightful place atop Skittershy’s head.

Though he did offer Twilight a smile and wave like an old partner-in-crime.

With a rustle of cloth, the sails unfurled and billowed in the wind. The Skylark jerked forward, nosing its way out into the harbor like a great beast emerging from its slumber, ready to venture forth onto the open water.

Hadhkûna let out an excited rumble mixed with a squeal. Quite a curious sound to come from a dragon, of all things.

Turning to face her, Twilight fixed her with a wry smile. “Did the great Hadhkûna just squeal like a little filly?”

“Oh, hush, you! I can be excited!” The she dragon blew smoke in her face, a teasing gesture, as Twilight had learned. “There are some things even I have not experienced. Riding on a ship is one of them.”

Something about that statement wiped the smile from Twilight’s face. There was something that just made her feathers twitch.

Could Hadhkûna … no.

That was just a silly idea.

Twilight relaxed and reclined back against her lover’s chest, nuzzling into Skittershy’s shoulder as well. “In that case,” she said, casually slipping that gemstone into her pouch for safekeeping, “I think you’ll find this a rather enjoyable experience.”

Out in the distance, a fiery orange bled into the red sky. Purple clouds loomed out over the northern horizon like towering mountains.

For but an instant, Twilight could’ve sworn she saw a pegasus in a flowing Pegasopolian dress. But when she blinked, it was gone.

Scoffing, she shook herself. I really need to stop listening to these stories. I have Hadhkûna, Skittershy, Angel, and these gemstones. Everything will be fine. From here on, it’s smooth sailing.

She pointedly ignored the distant rumble of thunder that came in reply. It most certainly wasn’t ominous, or some acceptance of challenge.

Just coincidence.