//------------------------------// // Chapter 21: “Everything I am… I owe to you.” // Story: The Ghost of Coltistrano // by EthanClark //------------------------------// The crew of the Tornado shambled around the cliff’s edge, the rumbling airship a short distance away. It had been less than an hour since the EUP lost track of them along the frigid airways of the Foal Mountains. The nighttime chill was just overbearing enough for the Recon Corps to break their pursuit for fear of losing their wings to frostbite. A cloudless sky hung over the mountain range, the dark tapestry glittering with pinpricks of light as the half-moon continued its upward ascension. Not a word arose from the somber crew. Steelhorn hefted bundles of dry wood off of the deck. He walked precariously across the gangplank connecting the Tornado to the cliff, tensing his neck in bitter resistance of the urge to look down. Gilda received the wood and stacked the logs together with the rest of the crew’s help. After only a few minutes, the pile was stacked to a good height and covered in what dry brush they could find. Despite even trying, it looked almost like a bed. The entire crew jumped at the sound of the cabin door opening. Gilda’s trained eyes saw Silver, mask pulled from his face, walking slowly from within the ship with Rarity hustling behind him. From within the cabin a torrential hail of shouting and harsh words flew towards them at a painful volume as the crew sighed and groaned from their captain’s unrestrained anger. Silver was lead away from the assault by Rarity, her hooves draped over his shoulders and guiding him towards the railing of the airship. The vacant stallion hardly even noticed the great height of the cliff as he crossed the gangplank. He was far too busy with the package on his back, balancing the cloth-wrapped mass and consumed by the memory of how it arrived there and how it felt much heavier with each step. The crew made way for the two ponies and Silver approached the wooden bed. Slowly, with a care one would show to the most precious and fragile of artworks, he lifted the swaddle of cloth from his back. Rarity moved in to help and projected a small aura of her magic, only to receive a piercing, bloodshot stare from Silver. She relented and simply watched. From the side, the soft glow of a torch emanated from Gilda’s claw and was passed to Silver. “Is there anything anypony would like to say?” Rarity announced to the crowd. They shuffled in place and held their gaze to the ground, letting the night wind speak for them. “Rusty want speak for bug pony,” the diamond dog spoke in his squeely, gravelly voice. Rarity leapt a little at the sight as he stepped out from the small crowd. Rusty flinched at her reaction but continued his approach. “Rusty always gem hunter for pack. Rusty know gems best and Rusty do well, but that’s all pack want. All anyone want.” He fumbled his paws together, eyeing the bundle of cloth. “Even in crew, gryphon captain want Rusty to find treasure, to help make gryphon money and sail the seas, but not bug pony. Bug pony never ask Rusty to find gems or hurt ponies. Bug pony just talk. When bug pony sick, he tell Rusty story of Dimondia, diamond dog home, and how all dogs can be more than gem hunter. Rusty never heard someone say Rusty can be more. It… it felt good. Rusty want to be more, for bug pony, because bug pony said he believe in Rusty. Believe in… me.” Rusty stood with his small, spiked tail between his legs. A light whimper rose from his throat as Steelhorn placed his meaty arm over the diamond dog’s shoulders and lead him back to the crowd. Silence threatened to consume them again, before Gilda gave a huff. “I guess I got something to say, too.” Gilda took a step towards the wooden bedding. She gave a long sigh, releasing a visible cloud of hot breath into the night. “I’m not that great of a gryphon. Heck, I’m not that great of an anything, really. I’ve drifted from town to town for as long as I can remember, never really wanting anything to do with anyone I met, even you guys. Because of that I… gave up on a lot of dreams.” Gilda shot a quick glance to Rarity, who smiled in return. “He gave me one of them. I got to go to the gala. Sure, it was for some weird plot to save the world or something, but… but I got to do it. Be there, look the part, feel the part. I hadn’t thought about wanting it for a long time, but out of nowhere he looks at me, says I’m lovely, buys me a gown and tells me he couldn’t do the plan without me. I’ve never been depended on before… I guess he believed in me, too.” Gilda trailed off, staring at the unmoving white mass before feeling Rarity’s hoof gently rub her shoulder. Slowly, Gilda leans into her embrace and the two share a gentle hug in the silence. It was soon broken by a loud bang from the ship, startling everyone except Silver as a flurry of stomps rapped across the deck. “Ye want ta hear a story?!” Gorn bellowed, lazily gripping the bottle in his claw. “How ‘bout tha one where some cocksure, self-righteous little twerp comes an’ makes a right mess of yer life, eh? That sound familiar?!” He stamped across the gangplank, shaking the wood with each step, and made a beeline for the still unmoving Silver. “Ye little runt! Have ye any idea jus’ how much he meant t’me? What I did fer ‘im?!” He screamed at the back of Silver’s head, spitting in between his words and tears. “I warned ‘im ye were a waste a’ time, that yer nothin’ but trouble.” “Captain, have some manners!” Rarity stepped between Gorn and Silver, nose turned up to the reeking gryphon. “Don’ tell me to ‘ave manners, missy! This rat’s tha one who got ‘em killed. Ain’t that right? You milk-suckin’, mopey little pansy! ‘Ooh, me lass be all alone an’ I can’t let anypony see tha roadmap on me back!’” “Gorn! Get lost!” Gilda shouted at her captain with enough force to threaten an avalanche. “Shove off, girlie! I been fightin wit’ ta Ghost since I was a youngin’. Darrox was a teacher ta me, too, so don’t go thinkin’ yer somethin’ special, Silver. I commanded his vessel, fought wit’ ‘im during the Badlands Siege, even carried ‘im out that fateful night when he ne’er returned! I kept ‘im alive, ye got ‘im killed!” At this, Silver finally turned to face the belligerent captain, whose tarnished and puffed feathers fell as his eyes laid upon the tears streaming down Silver’s face. His brows were tensed and his jaw clenched.  “I did get him killed,” Silver said, fighting the tremor in his throat. “I tried to stop the fight before it started, and he died for it. It’s my fault. Mine, so there! Have your victory! It doesn’t change the fact that he’s dead and Shield Wall is still out there laughing it up. So do us all a favor: shut your trap and get ready to head out!” The outburst knocked the fight out of Gorn. A small thud could be heard as the bottle hit the rocky floor beneath them, dropped from his claw and rolling away. He swallowed hard and opened his mouth to speak. “W-Well ye still-” “Save it,” Silver interrupted, holding his hoof to Gorn. “Just get the ship ready. Besides, if you’re lucky I’ll die tonight, too.” Silver turned again toward the pyre as Gorn rounded up the crew, Gilda included, and walked back to the ship. Rarity, alone, stood at the sidelines and watched as Silver took up the torch in his hoof. He made slow steps towards Darrox’s body. He was grateful he couldn’t see the lifeless face of his master, having gotten his fill in the mansion. With a final step he came within range of the wood and held the flame aloft. “Everything I am… I owe to you.” The torch dropped onto the bed of wood and brush as the fire surged to life, engulfing the shrouded changeling. The sickening crackle of the wood echoed out across the walls of the mountain range and back to Silver’s ears. He shivered and, with a surge of his own, reared around and struck a large rock with his back hoof, cracking the surface of it. He huffed from his exertion, noticing too late that Rarity had stepped to his side.  “It’s not fair,” he whispered, resting on his haunches. “Six years ago Shield Wall killed Silver Spade, buried the truth of what happened to me. I fought so hard to have a chance to get it all back, but when I try it… it just doesn’t work. It doesn’t work! I miss them, Rarity. Shining, Abby... my dad. He’s taken so much from me, and just when I think I’ve got him, just when I think I’m about to have one victory he takes something else.” “You still have a chance, Silver,” Rarity cooed. “That vile pony hasn’t won yet.” “I should’ve listened to him. It should be me in that fire right now, not Darrox. He knew what to do, and if I’d listened to him then he’d still be here. I wish I could take his place.” “I think you have.” Rarity reached behind and pulled the dark fabric of the cloak to Silver’s hooves. He held it for a moment, the somber realization coming to his mind, and stood to face the raging bonfire before him. The dancing flame reflected on Silver’s amber eyes and stretched toward the sky. “This is why you left, isn’t it?” He spoke to the inferno, as if its crackling would give an answer. “You were willing to pay the ultimate price for Equestria, but you had to be sure somepony else could… be you.” The fire seemed to stare into Silver’s very soul, it’s swirling orange limbs reaching higher and slicing into the night sky.  “I thought I could save Silver Spade, save everything I’d left behind, but I screwed up. I wanted it so badly, and when I thought I finally had it, I… I lost you. Without knowing it I traded you for a life that was already stolen from me. Stolen by him! You knew it, and without you there’s nopony else to do this.” He fumbled with the fabric in his hooves before releasing it, allowing it to flutter behind him in the cold breeze.  “I’ll do it, Darrox, I’m done holding on. I can’t spend my life chasing a second chance at moments long passed. Years ago, on the beach, you said you’d make me everything I needed to be to fight ponies like him in exchange for my soul. Well, now you can have it. This is my funeral just as much as it is yours.” Rarity stood to watch Silver, standing before the building ashes of his mentor, pull the black mask over his face again. The cloak around him seemed to grow even darker against the wall of flame. She held a hoof to her mouth as the dark mass turned from the fire. Before her was hardly anything resembling the pony she had met in her shop, nor the hopeful champion of love she had come to know. The black shape walked closer, the fluttering cloak blocking view of the raging bonfire, and for a moment Rarity felt a twinge of fear as it strode past her. The bell of the ship called out to them, signaling their final departure.