A small skiff cut through the moonlit fog and the dark water beneath. Neither wind, oars, or the sea’s natural current carried it but instead an alien contraption that belched a noxious odour.
Rarity admired it. She was the only member of her entourage familiar with such technology, with the concepts of gasoline and machinery. The only person comfortable with the vibrations of the skiff’s metal frame against the palm of her hand.
The people of her secluded nation would’ve liked nothing more than to remain alone and untouched within the vast forests of their continent. Still, she’d become a renegade. Going against the grain, becoming a merchant who had travelled far and wide to peddle her wares at the bazaars of the world. That was what her lineage demanded. And in her adventures, she had not only acquired wealth but a body of knowledge about the world at large deeper than any of her peers. And she’d come to a conclusion.
It was only a matter of time before the world encroached upon her people. She knew such a day would come within her lifetime, and sadness filled her heart at the prospect. But she was prepared to offer whatever service she could to ensure her nation’s stability and resilience through this initial contact.
Her fellow diplomats stared with creeping awe as the fog parted, and a large fleet jutted out of their hiding spot: easily two dozen ships, all of which were larger than even the mightiest of their continent’s river-prowling trade vessels. Rarity knew the nature of many of these crafts. Warships with gun-batteries that could lay a town to waste in a matter of seconds.
At the very centre of the formation was a ship so mighty, so impressive, that even Rarity couldn’t help but be in awe of its sheer scale. How had the fog concealed such a colossus? It was the size of a city, with guns so massive that they could easily turn a whole forest to ash. Two smaller ships in a partial state of completion were anchored to its board and starboard sides. Rarity knew these type of vessels: Dreadnaughts. But compared to their mother, they were merely the size of children.
“What is that?” Ambassador Fern Leaf asked, his voice hushed.
Rarity shook her head, gripping the sleeve of her coat tightly. “I don’t know. I’ve never seen something so big.”
Their pilot, a member of this foreboding fleet, chuckled. “That would be the Canterlot. There is no finer ship in the entire Equestrian navy.”
Equestria.
This was the fabled fleet of a people who no longer had a nation to call home.
They approached this Canterlot, passing the various other ships in the flotilla as they did so. Rarity would occasionally catch the grim and serious expressions of the sailors aboard. They eyed up the entourage with curiosity and wariness.
Upon reaching the Canterlot, the skiff beached itself upon a partially submerged platform. Their pilot then pressed a button and this platform began to emerge from the water.
Rarity’s fellow citizenry clutched at whatever surface they could, nervously exchanging glances. For sure, they lived within the trees, remaining far above the ground, but still they trusted their own woodwork and skill. This trust did not extend to the foreign and unnatural machinery that currently lifted them high into the air.
They rose higher and higher, going well above the waves, until the platform and its cargo swung and finally landed upon the Canterlot’s deck.
A man in a fine suit waited for them alone. His hand rested on an ornate cane while his other hid in one of his finely tailored pockets.
This man nodded to the skiff pilot. “Thank you for delivering them to me safely, Ensign.” He looked at Rarity and her companions before focusing on Fern Leaf. “Ambassador, I am so happy you could join us this evening. I know Her Majesty has been desperate to seek an audience with the people of these lands.”
Ambassador Fern steeled his jaw. “And when a foreign people invade my forest, I think it’s best to find out why.”
The man frowned and nodded politely at Fern’s comment. “We are merely establishing the infrastructure for our future partnership in this region. I’d hardly…”
“You’ve displaced people,” Rarity interrupted. “Taken our men and forced them into labour.”
The man chuckled, waving this comment off. “An unfortunate by-product of a few overzealous officers. We will ensure that they are appropriately reprimanded.”
“And you are?” Ambassador Fern asked.
The man bowed. “Prince Blueblood. Distant cousin to Her Majesty, and her official voice for all diplomatic affairs outside of her chambers.” He motioned towards the deck. “If you’d follow me, I can escort you to her.”
The ambassador, Rarity, and the few other members of their council stepped off the skiff and onto the deck of the Canterlot. A few final words were exchanged and then they began to venture towards the stern together.
“May I ask you a question?” Blueblood said, not waiting for permission to continue. “Our scouts have labelled your kind as elves. While I don’t blame them for trying to create their own title, is there a more fitting adjective you’d prefer?”
“It is fitting enough for this meeting,” the ambassador grumbled, his ears twitching in irritation.
At this point, Rarity tuned out the noise of their conversation, more focused upon the vessel they now occupied. A sailor bumped into her as she abruptly stopped, looking up at an awestricking massive battery. Each of its mighty barrels was longer and thicker than even her continent’s eldest trees. The shells that sat next to it were easily larger than the skiff they had arrived on.
She noticed that one of these mighty shells had a phrase written in white chalk.
Happy Heart’s Warming, Sombra.
As they passed the turret, they came upon a flat section of deck that stretched far across the ship. Built upon it were a sea of greenhouses, growing all manner of produce and foodstuffs. Rarity studied the impressive feat as hundreds, if not thousands, of people scurried about, working even at this late of an hour.
They passed the agricultural haven and then another battery. A city expanded beyond it, composed mainly of a haphazard composition of thrown-together structures. It reminded Rarity a bit of a slum, with all sorts of activities taking place, even upon this fringe section of real estate.
Merchants loudly peddled their wares. Cookeries offered all manner of questionable cuisine, the acrid smoke from their chimneys mingling with the fog. And women of the night enticed clients to come with them, though they avoided the abundant number of hard-faced guards who occupied this squalor’s perimeter.
The smell reminded Rarity of her fond voyages to the grand cities of Canternople and Briddledagh. Still, it was too much for her brethren, whose noses wrinkled in disgust. An expression shared by their host.
“My apologies for the display,” Blueblood stated. “Space is limited and sometimes sacrifices must be made.”
Rarity snorted which garnered a quizzical look from their host.
A little girl approached, adorned in a faded blue dress that was well beyond the point of needing a replacement. She looked at Rarity and her companions in awe.
“You’re so tall,” she said, hosting the vacant wonder that only a child could manage. “And pretty.”
Rarity smiled softly and stopped for a moment. This in turn made the entire entourage stall, all of them glancing at her cautiously.
“Where is your mother?” Rarity asked, taking a knee. Yet, even from this position, she still towered over the poor child.
The girl glanced over her shoulder, and Rarity followed her gaze to one of the alluring girls in search of clients.
Rarity nodded. “I see.”
She thought for a moment and reached for her bracelet, pulling it off. It was a humble piece she had picked up from the smiths of Valerian. The child’s eyes twinkle as Rarity dropped her jewelry into her hand. Now lighter, the ‘elf’ reached out and gently ruffled the girl’s hair.
They didn’t exchange another word as Rarity stood up, turned away, and rejoined her companions.
“You know she’s just going to peddle that, right?” Blueblood grumbled, trying his best not to sneer—something he failed terribly at.
“Then I have ensured her and her mother a few decent meals,” Rarity responded.
It seemed that the densely packed township would never end until finally they came towards a central turret. It jutted out proudly from the deck, all in all the tallest structure within the entire flotilla. Instead of going past it, Blueblood led them through a hatch and then up some stairs.
The interior of the vessel was a maze, yet Blueblood navigated it with ease. Soon enough, they had past kitchens, crew quarters, tailors, jewellers, libraries, and medical facilities. The higher they climbed the wealthier and more prestigious the institutions. The ship housed everything that could be found within an imperial capital, including the filth of segregation.
After a final countless step, they reached an ornate pair of oaken double doors: the only doors upon the ship they had so far encountered that were not steel hatches. A pair of soldiers stood guard, armed with sabres and enough ceremony to fill several volumes on worldbuilding.
Blueblood nodded to them, and the duo stepped aside and opened the doors, allowing the entourage into an atrium. It was a noble hallway, also crafted from wood instead of the harsh metal they had been exposed to. Rarity’s eyes locked on the carpets first, which were done in a well-maintained and vibrant red. Then, they went up.
Wealth plastered these domains, standing in stark contrast to the spartan habitats they had just ventured through. The entourage was once again left awestruck, looking at paintings, artifacts, and the glitter and flare of nobility. These quarters were finer than any of them could ever hope to reside in.
Blueblood smirked knowingly and Rarity knew the game he was playing. She knew it well. He had shown them their weapons, their desperation, and now he was eagerly showing them their wealth. Rarity’s entourage ought to know fully what they were up against, going into these negotiations.
It dawned on Rarity that the terror caused by Equestria’s landings were not the acts of a few overzealous officers. It was simply them implementing the terms of a deal that had already been finalized, at least in their eyes. This was merely the ceremony to legitimize their terms.
Rarity paused this train of thought as they came upon another portrait. This one was of a noble family. A beautiful mother, dressed in a fine gown, a handsome father, who looked like an officer of some sort, and a boisterous child between them. They were smiling, happy, a rarity for a portrait done in this style.
Blueblood came up beside her. “Made during happier times,” he commented.
“Is this the royal family?” Rarity asked.
Blueblood nodded.
“I thought…” Rarity frowned. “I thought Equestria was ruled by two sisters.”
“It was.”
Rarity opened her mouth but before their discussion could continue, a second set of oaken doors opened at the far end of the hall. A professional looking woman stepped in, bearing a tight smile.
“Are they ready, Raven?” Blueblood asked.
“Yes, Prince.”
“Then we best not keep them waiting.” He motioned towards Rarity’s entourage, all of whom fell into line. “Please do try and remember that Her Majesty has been under considerable stress as of late. Her faculties are…” He searched for a word, though when none came, he remained silent.
Together they moved into another chamber, this one even more grand than the last, with silk, gold, and fine wood adorning every facet. A grand staircase stood at the far end, leading up to a pair of thrones.
Seated within them were two figures, neither of whom looked even remotely the same as the portrait had shown.
The beautiful woman, Her Majesty, now looked frail and weak, her gaze tired and sunken. Her beauty had faded, replaced by the rapid encroachment and violently swift onset of age. The purple, pink, and cream of her hair remained, though matted, frazzled, and marked with grey.
The handsome gentleman, the husband, looked scornful and cold. His face was marked by the ravage of numerous ugly and deep scars, one of which had robbed him of his left eye. Yet, he still seemed strong and foreboding, very obviously at the centre of affairs.
Attendants, advisors, and other royal officials lined the sides of the room. At the very least, the Equestrians tried to put on an air of pomp and circumstance for their charade.
A horn blew and Raven wheeled around. As she spoke, her voice was level but bore the controlling nature of a seasoned bureaucrat. “Today, we have received a delegation from the…” She paused and glanced at Blueblood.
“Elves,” Blueblood whispered.
Raven nodded. “From the elves of the Qu’iall Confederation.” She motioned to them. “Who wish to speak with Her Majesty, Queen Cadance, and the Lord Protector, Shining Armor.”
The man, Shining Armor, got up. He wore the finery of a noble, yet it looked awkward upon him, ill fitted and uncomfortable. He tried to offer a smile, yet the mess of scars barely budged against his muscles, making the gesture largely futile.
A gear within Rarity’s mind clicked. There was the mother, whose beauty and kindness had faded to hollowness. There was the father, a warrior who had clearly been bested in his art. And then was the most pronounced difference from the portrait. Where was the daughter? Their pride and joy? Surely, she’d be in attendance for such an important farce.
“Friends,” Shining Armor said. “I am glad you could join us today. I believe we have much to discuss.”
“Yes,” Ambassador Fern said, stepping forward. “Including the illegal occupation of our lands and the enslavement of our people.”
Shining frowned. “An unfortunate act committed by a few overzealous members of my officer corp. I do apologize.” He nodded. “But it is true that Equestria does have a vested interest in your lands and the resources your populace possesses.”
“Why our lands?”
Shining motioned to one of his advisors, a working age man with vibrant orange hair and a goatee. “Sunburst, do you care to explain?”
“Yes, Sir,” he said, bowing his head. He then cleared his throat and looked at the assembly. “The lands that make up your Confederacy are uniquely rich in iron ore, coal, timber, nitrates, and possess enough arable acreage to fill our bread stores. By…” He rolled his wrist. “Leasing?” He glanced at Shining who nodded, approving of this word choice, prompting Sunburst to go on. “By leasing these lands, we could extract enough resources to complete the dreadnaughts Celestia and Luna, greatly increasing the firepower and projection of our fleet-in-exile.”
“Leasing?” Rarity asked, cocking a brow. “Doesn’t leasing imply that payment will be given to us for the extraction of our natural resources and for the…”
“Employment of your people in their extraction?” Shining finished before nodding curtly. “Yes, we will pay a fair market value for your goods and services in Equestrian Scripts.”
Rarity snorted. “Ah, yes a currency with no reserves, nation, or wealth to back it. Truly the paper would be worth its weight in gold.”
Ambassador Fern frowned. “And your employment is little more than slavery. I have no doubt that your occupation will only lead to the destitution, poverty, and demise of our people.”
“Our debts will be honoured once we reclaim our homeland,” Shining said, glancing at Rarity before flicking his gaze back to Fern. “Equestria is a just nation and would never offer a trade deal that didn’t benefit both parties. We are not Sombra and his horde.”
Rarity snorted. “In our eyes, Sombra is not the one wronging us.”
Shining sighed. “I see.” He shook his head and drummed his fingers against the hilt of his sabre. “You know what exile does to a leader, Ambassador?”
“Why don’t you enlighten us?”
“It tests their mettle; it strains their people’s resolve. It makes even the most virtuous and idealistic of us crack, reminds us what survival really entails.” Shining lifted his hand, causing two guards to step forward from behind Rarity’s entourage. “My people are threatened day and night, by famine, poverty, sickness, and most importantly, by the relentless pursuit of a foe who wants nothing more than to end our resistance. I would do everything in my power to ensure my people’s safety.” He sighed and drew in a haggard breath. “Are you a parent, Ambassador?”
Rarity glanced from Shining and towards the Queen, watching as a pair of tears prickled in her eyes at the question.
“I am not,” the ambassador admitted, sounding a little unsure at the change of topic. “What does that have to do with your…” he motioned. “speech?”
Shining chuckled and shook his head, his jagged scars looking almost inhumane upon this brief bout of cruel levity. “I suppose nothing.”
For a moment a pregnant pause filled the room, as if even a pin was afraid to drop and ruin the tension. Then a faint sniffle came from behind Shining. It was the weeping of a woman, the weeping of a queen, the weeping of a mother. All at once Rarity felt the hatred of the room descend upon her entourage.
Two handmaidens rushed to the queen’s aid, though Shining paid them no attention. Instead he stepped down from his throne, taking the steps one at a time. He pulled his hand away from his sabre and instead reached into his breast pocket, pulling out an ivory pen.
A whisper filtered in from the Equestrian nobility, making Rarity’s ears perk. This was irregular, it would seem, and that made Rarity nervous.
The ambassador tensed as Shining descended a few more steps, seeming to draw them out and mark each with a heavy footfall that echoed through the chamber.
Shining motioned with his free hand and a page rushed over from the side of the room, with a treaty. As the page stopped before the ambassador, Shining descended the final step. He was fiddling with the pen, rolling it between his knuckles.
“These are the terms we are willing to present,” Shining explained, his voice eerily level. “I do beseech you to consider them.”
He then held out the pen.
Rarity stood rigid as the ambassador read the deed. After a pregnant pause, he looked from it and then up at Shining. For a moment, Rarity thought he would buckle.
Instead, he somberly shook his head. “I am sorry, Lord Protector, but I can not do this to my people. Equestria may have fallen but I will not allow the same fate to befall our families.”
Shining frowned and drew his hand back. He looked at the various members of the entourage and sidestepped to an especially shaken diplomat. As he moved towards her, he motioned for the page to follow.
Once the treaty was in front of the woman, Shining then motioned to his guards.
The two of them stepped forward, one bearing a baton, the other a pistol. The baton slammed into the back of Fern’s legs, bringing the elderly ambassador to his knees. He yelped in pain, but was cut short. The bark of a pistol drowned out his protests as a bullet blew out the back of his head. His body crumpled to the floor in a thudding heap.
Rarity gasped in horror, terror crawling up her spine. Everyone in the room stiffened, both members of the entourage and of the Lord Protector’s own court. No one seemed to quite grasp this most brutal of acts.
“What is your name?” Shining asked the now terrified diplomat, his voice failing to shift even a single octave.
“Emerald… Emerald Coast,” she said, her brow bathed in sweat.
Shining nodded. “I would beseech you to consider our terms…” he smirked and offered the pen, “ambassador.”
Rarity noticed that the cover of the supposed treaty was now marked by a bright red streak across the material. It matched the various splotches that peppered the young page’s face. Yet, the young man just stood resolute, not even flinching away from the carnage.
Emerald gripped the pen and signed the cursed document, swallowing a lump in her throat as the deed was done. Shining looked at it and then delicately plucked the pen from Emerald’s shaking fingers, adding his own signature to the prop.
“Well,” he began, offering a warm smile. “I do thank you for your time. And your assistance to Equestria’s survival has been noted. I’d offer to host you for a banquet but…” he frowned, glancing as Fern’s lifeless body. “I sense that you’d like to get on your way at once.”
The entourage turned to leave as quickly as they could, though Shining stopped them by clearing his throat. “That is… with the exception of the agreed upon guests of course. As is stated within the treaty.”
Everyone within the entourage froze as he stepped amongst their ranks, examining each of them closely. “I want you,” he said, selecting a boy, the son of Rarity’s chieftain, one of the most powerful on the continent.
“And you…” This time he picked a poet, one whose work was cherished by the people for its exceptional beauty.
“And lastly…” he stopped by the man to Rarity’s left, eying him up. This was one of the wisest statesmen in the Confederacy, reduced to a shellshocked state by this one act of sheer brutality.
The loss of any of them would damage any attempts at resistance, the loss of all three would cripple it.
A woman cleared her throat from the side of the room and Shining glanced over. “Yes, Twilight.”
“Take the tall one. She seems… worldly,” a feminine voice responded. “She could offer valuable insight.”
Shining chuckled and stepped in front of Rarity before nodding to the maiden who had just sealed her fate. “Anything for you, sis.” He didn’t even acknowledge Rarity verbally, instead merely tilting his chin to let her know she was selected.
That decision sucked the wind right out of Rarity’s lungs. She did not know the fate of Equestria’s hostages but the knowledge that she was a prisoner landed with about as much force as one of those mammoth shells stored above deck. Not only a prisoner, but a prisoner to a tribe that would kill so eagerly to further its cause.
Guards stepped forward once again, prepared to seize the three of them. However, the feminine voice interjected once again.
“If you’d like…” this Twilight offered, “I could escort the worldly one.”
Shining frowned, working this request over in his head. Though, he eventually nodded, conceding to this second request. “Of course, Twilight.”
The guards stepped back and Rarity heard a pair of steps approach. As she turned to look down at her captor, she repressed a laugh. The person who approached looked less like a lady and more like a mechanic, dressed in a drab uniform splotched with various fluids and filthy materials.
They stared silently at one another, sizing each other up. Eventually, Twilight broke their stalemate, offering her hand. “I’m Twilight.” When Rarity refused to take it, she blushed and instead used it to motion towards an exit. “If you’d come with me.”
Rarity looked between Twilight and the guards, conceding that the woman was by far the lesser brute. So, she followed her into another corridor. It remained regal for about a dozen metres before transitioning rapidly into the metal and grime of the ship proper.
The two of them advanced in silence. Occasionally, Twilight would pause, look at Rarity, and open her mouth. Though, only more silence would follow, the woman obviously failing to muster any form of conversation.
After what felt like a mile, all traversed with only the creaking of the ship for company, Twilight spoke.
“I’m sorry for…” She sighed and shook her head. “I’m sorry for my brother’s behaviour. He’s been under a lot of stress lately.”
Rarity snorted in laughter. “You don’t say?”
“He is a good man, I promise.” Twilight reached over and rubbed at her own arm. Rarity noticed that it was marked by bruises and various other unpleasant blemishes. “Just… good men are tested in situations like this.”
“Good men don’t execute innocent people in front of an audience,” Rarity retorted.
Twilight shook her head. “He needs… he needs to appear strong and in control. Ambassador Fern threatened that.”
“Appear in control, or appear to be a sadist?”
“Sometimes the two can overlap.”
The excuse sounded hollow and Rarity could see that even Twilight realized this as their conversation died away once again.
It felt like it took an hour to travel from the chamber to their destination, though Rarity was sure it was actually much shorter.
They eventually arrived in a workshop of sorts, a space that was filled with various half-finished projects and terrifying machinery. A large chamber dominated the centre of the room with various mechanics examining it.
“That’s how the ship runs,” Twilight said, the first words spoken in a long while.
Rarity shook her head. “It’s quiet for an engine.”
“It’s my own design,” Twilight said. “There’s nothing else quite like it in the entire world. It runs off a rare isotope found within an equally rare ore we recovered during our voyage. The power generated is… unmatched.” She grinned. “Do you like it?”
“Do I like your engine…” Rarity frowned. “I’m sure it’s, uh… impressive?”
Twilight nodded. “Impressive is one way to describe it.”
“I do have a few questions,” Rarity said, pursing her lips as she observed the workshop. “Are my quarters located somewhere around here?”
Twilight tilted her chin towards a row of hammocks hanging off to the side. “These are my quarters.”
Rarity took in a deep breath and let out a single amuse note.
“What’s so funny?” Twilight asked.
“I honestly should’ve gone with the guards.”
Twilight shook her head. “Probably would’ve been more comfortable but…”
“But?” Rarity asked, looking at Twilight.
“Shining only comes down here when he needs me to invent or fiddle with some piece of technology. It’ll be much easier for you to avoid him down here.”
Rarity nodded. “Is that what you do? Fiddle and invent?”
“It’s what I do now.” Twilight walked over to a workbench and sat upon it. “I used to be a scholar.”
“What changed?” Rarity asked, frowning as the obvious answer presented itself in the form of their surroundings.
“Well, my palace became a ship, and Shining really didn’t have room for anymore idle hands. So, I… adapted.”
“Sounds Equestrian?”
Twilight snorted. “It’s what we’ve been known for recently.” She shook her head sadly. “Anyways, you had another question?”
Rarity nodded. “Why did you select me?”
“I… you…”
“Yes?”
“You seemed more knowledgeable than the others and it’s been ages since I’ve had someone to talk to about the world.” Twilight shook her head. “I mean the world beyond weapons and armaments.”
“I may know a few things about the world,” Rarity said, folding her arms in front of her chest. “Though… what makes you think I want to converse with one of my captors?”
Twilight shrugged. “I don’t know… I guess I had a feeling.”
“Well…” Rarity smirked, drawing the moment out for a few tantalizing seconds, before promptly storming off towards the hammocks, “your feeling was wrong.”