Chapter 13: In Which the Truth is Learned
All across Equestria, ponies rose. Farmers on the great plains went to tend their crops, craftsponies and merchants went to run their shops, and foals rose to get ready for school. Each and every single pony who woke looked to the sky in curiosity, and all for the same reason: though every pony across Equestria was rising from their nightly rest, the sun had not. A thin line of yellow and orange could be seen along the eastern horizon, telling the ponies of the sun's imminent ascent, but the fact remained that it was late. Still, most ponies did not concern themselves with it. It happened now and then, they all told themselves. The Princess must have simply been busy.
It was true Princess Celestia had been busy. For weeks she had been in almost constant contact with the Aloan Royal Court, but a week ago the letters had stopped coming. Celestia had shut herself in her room. The only ponies who visited her were her niece, the captain of the guard and – most worryingly – several retired, high-ranking members of the guard. No other ponies saw the princess during that week, and rumors flew in her absence. It was never the same rumor twice. Sometimes it was that Celestia was ill with a strange disease from her visit to Aloa. Sometimes it was that she was simply too frustrated from her communications to talk to any other pony. Sometimes the rumors were about her interesting choice of companions. In the end, only those ponies who had visited her knew exactly what was happening, with the curious exception of the palace blacksmith.
Princess Amethyst had visited him regularly over the week, always on her own. Rumors flew about this too, as rumors are wont to do. These were always quelled shortly, however, usually by the princess's diligent bodyguard Rowan Oak. He always seemed to be around when they were spoken, swooping in to defend his princess. As the week wore on though, he found himself more and more doubting his own words. Amethyst had not trusted even him with her secret. He had taken to wandering the halls in worry, in fact. He roamed the opulent palace, trying not to hear the whispered rumors, trying to shove them from his mind. He was in the public wing when he was approached by the acting captain of the guards.
“Lieutenant!” the captain barked. Oak jumped to attention, saluting smartly.
“Captain!” he said respectfully. The captain saluted as well, and both pegasi stood at ease.
“The Princess is asking after you, Lieutenant,” the captain said. Oak ruffled his wings.
“Ah, Princess Celestia, Captain?”
“Princess Amethyst, Lieutenant,” the captain said, a sarcastic edge to his voice. “The mare you are supposed to be guarding?” Oak blinked, and saluted again. It was the first time she had summoned him all week; she had always been too busy before.
“O-of course, captain!” Oak said. “Where can I find her?”
“In her chambers,” the captain said. His serious expression faded into a sly smile, and he shuffled his wings knowingly. “Remember, Lieutenant – I don't want to be hearing about any sort of... untoward conduct. Am I understood?” Oak's face flushed, and he pawed at the ground before saluting.
“Yessir,” he said quickly. The captain smirked again, and Oak flew off, headed for the Princess's chambers. The royal family's wing was deserted as always, giving him time to straighten himself up. He preened his feathers, laying them neat and smooth, and took off his helmet to brush his mane. He sat in front of the princess's door, his heart pounding in his chest, and knocked respectfully.
“Who is it?” Amethyst asked from inside the room. Oak cleared his throat, and spoke.
“It's me, Your Highness: Oak.” There was a clinking and clattering sound from inside the room, before Amethyst spoke again excitedly.
“Oak? Wonderful! Come in, come in! And close the door behind you!” Oak swallowed, and quickly stepped inside, shutting the door tight behind him. He almost forgot to; his jaw dropped when he entered. He was not sure what he had been expecting – or perhaps hoping for – but this was most certainly not it.
Princess Amethyst stood in the centre of the room, clad from head-to-hoof in golden armour. It fit tightly around her body, imitating the unicorn guards' armour. There were, however, distinct differences. The mail was much looser on the sides, and the saddle had been replaced with Equestria's banner: the sun and moon set tightly alongside one another. A long silver scabbard stretched along her side, containing a basket-hilted rapier. All in all, the princess would have been very imposing if she were not so ungainly in the heavy metal. Oak stared at her, open-mouthed.
“What do you think?” she asked proudly, prancing lightly. The joints of the armour snagged, and she came to a jolting halt. She almost fell over, but managed to keep herself upright. Oak recovered himself, and shook his head.
“Your Highness, what in the world is all this?” he asked, dumfounded. Amethyst sighed at him.
“It's armour, of course. How does it look, Oak? Do I look ready for a battle?”
“Ready for a battle...” Oak said, still clearly stunned. Amethyst shook her head, and marched slowly and carefully over to him. More than once she stumbled, but she never quite managed to tumble over. She sat in front of him, and Oak shook his head once more. His face screwed up quizzically, and he searched for the right words to voice his concerns.
“But Your Highness... why!?” he asked finally.
“You remember what auntie said, don't you Oak?” Amethyst asked. “You remember what the last letter we've received from Aloa said?”
“Of course I do,” Oak said. “They've declared war against us. We're going to have to fight them, or apologize for insulting them-”
“We have not insulted them,” Amethyst said sharply, “and we are not going to apologize! They have my son, Oak, and we are going to get him back from them! One way or another!” She huffed, and put her hoof down firmly. The armour clanked quietly, and Oak sighed.
“I'm sorry, Your Highness. But... what does that have to do with all this, unless...” He looked at her entreatingly, as if he were begging her to make him wrong. A horrible, tremendous fear gripped his heart. “Your Highness... you aren't seriously considering going out to the war, are you?”
“No, I'm not considering it,” Amethyst said. Oak sighed with relief.
“Thank goodness,” he said. “Your Highness, I couldn't imagine-”
“I decided that I'm going to the war a long time ago,” Amethyst interrupted him. Oak jolted, and coughed hard.
“Your Highness,” he said sharply. He paused, holding himself back. He knew it wasn't his place to criticize the princess; it was his place to protect her, regardless of what she did. But he knew that if she went to the war, there was a chance that she would not be coming back. Even the thought of it killed him, stabbing through his heart like a cold blade. He couldn't bear to see her hurt, let alone subjected to a real war. He had only seen a few months of the last war with Aloa, but it had been horrible. If she saw any of it, then the Princess Amethyst he knew, the princess he cared so deeply about, would never come back. Surely keeping her from it would be protecting her, he thought to himself. Perhaps it was not his place to question, but he could afford to stretch the rules this one time. He steeled himself for the princess's fury, and spoke.
“Your Highness, are you insane!?” he asked. Amethyst scowled at him, and stood up with difficulty.
“For wanting Blueblood back?” she asked, turning away from Oak. “Apparently, I am.” Oak followed after, still trying to reason with her.
“Your Highness, you don't know anything about war! You don't even know anything about fighting!” Amethyst spun upon him, a smile suddenly back on her face.
“But you do!” she exclaimed. “It's perfect, Oak, you can teach me! Then I'll be ready!” Oak just shook his head.
“No... Your Highness, I'm not going to teach you how to fight. I won't help you with this.”
“Why not?” Amethyst asked. “Do you think I won't be able to?” Oak was silent. Amethyst fumed, and her horn lit up. She attempted to draw the rapier from its scabbard, but it got caught, and she struggled with it. Eventually she managed to draw it out, brandishing it dangerously.
“Well, then you can help me!” she said. “Make me good enough!” Oak looked at her sadly. He stepped inside the blade and thrust out his wing in the blink of an eye. The sword was shaken from Amethyst's magical grip, flying across the room. Oak looked at Amethyst entreatingly. She looked between him and the sword, and huffed.
“I'm doing this with or without you, Oak,” she said decisively. “You can help me, or you can step aside.”
“I'm trying to help you, Your Highness,” Oak said. “Please! We need you here, where you can manage the war.”
“Auntie will be here,” Amethyst said dismissively. “She won't need my help.”
“Let her go out there!” Oak pushed. “She'll be worth a thousand of you on the battlefield! And you'll be here, and safe!”
“Auntie wouldn't set hoof on the battlefield,” the princess said. “Not unless Tidus comes out.” Oak winced and tried again.
“And what if Tidus does show up?” he asked. “What if you're there when he arrives? He won't care who you are, Princess! If you go out there...” Oak looked down, and pawed the ground. “If you go to war, you'll be killed, Your Highness.” Amethyst stomped her hoof down.
“Don't you think I know that!?” she yelled. “I'm not some little filly anymore, Oak. I'm willing to do what I have to to save my son. If that means that I die, then so be it.”
“But what about him?” Oak asked. “What happens if he loses his mother? You... you have ponies who care about you, Your Highness... Amethyst. We couldn't bear to lose you.”
“And I couldn't bear to lose him, Oak,” Amethyst said. She was quiet, now. She picked up her rapier, sliding it back into its scabbard. “Last time... last time I was young. I wasn't ready. I'll be ready this time, Oak. The Aloans already took Winter Star away from me. I won't let them take Blueblood too.” Oak looked at her sadly.
“But what good is it if you aren't there anymore?” he asked. “Do you think Blueblood wants to lose his mother too? Do you want him too?” Amethyst stared at him, silent. She tried to keep a brave face. She tried not to let her emotions show. Hard as she tried, though, she was more like Oak than she would admit. She couldn't hold herself back. She sniffed sadly, and leaned against her bodygaurd's chest.
“I don't want to lose my foal, Oak,” she whispered. Oak slowly wrapped his wings around her, comforting her.
“You won't,” he said. “I promise you, they'll bring back your son. But please Amethyst... don't go. Stay here, where you're safe. Give him somepony to come back to.” Amethyst sniffed again, and Oak could feel her nod slowly.
“You're right,” she said. “You're right. But I still need your help, Oak.” Oak opened his wings slightly, looking down at her. She looked up at him, and smiled. “I need you to help me be strong,” she said. “Just for now. Just until they bring my foal back to me.” Oak smiled back at her.
“I'll do my best,” he said.
***
Brook limped slowly out of his home as the sun began to rise. He levitated a large trunk above his head, and Blueblood followed him out with two smaller bags on his back. The pair of stallions moved silently around the house, depositing their luggage in Brook's wagon. Brook sighed, staring out at the river. Blueblood sat beside him silently, his head low. The two sat in silence, taking in the view one last time. Today they would go into the city, and find a ship. They would go to Ys, the capital city of Aloa, where Brook would serve the king as a general. Blueblood pawed at the ground while they sat. He had fallen into silence last night; they both had. The situation frightened Blueblood, but he couldn't bring himself to admit it. As it happened, he didn't have to.
“What's the matter, Red?” Brook asked. Blueblood's head sank.
“I... I don't like this, master,” he said. Brook nodded solemnly.
“I... do not like it either,” he said. “But it is my duty to Aloa. If the King asks for me, I must respond.”
“But you can't be a soldier again!” Blueblood insisted. “Your hoof... they can't make you fight, can they?” Brook shook his head, and put a reassuring hoof on Blueblood's shoulder.
“They won't make me fight, Red,” he said. “A general is a tactician. I'll organize campaigns, and order troops. I won't be on the field unless the war comes out here.” Blueblood sighed with relief. That, at least, was one worry gone. Brook coughed quietly, and spoke again. “Of course, I'll need somepony to help me, still,” he said. “Somepony I can trust. They'll probably try to give me a pony in the capital... one of theirs. I would like... somepony I know better to help me.” Blueblood looked up at him, blinking.
“You want me, master?” he asked. Brook nodded.
“Of course I do,” he said. “But they won't accept a slave in the capital. Where are your wrappings, Red?” Blueblood nodded, understanding.
“They're in my room, master,” he said. “I'll go put them on?”
“Please,” Brook said. Blueblood dashed inside, going to his room. His wrappings sat folded on the small table beside his bed. He had not worn them in a few months, but they still had a beautiful sheen to them. He ran his hoof over the soft cloth, relishing the texture. He wound the cloth around his neck, and returned to his master.
The old pony was seated in the back of the wagon, smiling down at him. Blueblood smiled back, and trotted in front of the wagon to push it.
“Don't bother,” Brook said. “We won't go fast enough. Climb in.” Blueblood stared up at him for a moment, but nodded. He clambered into the back of the wagon, settling in beside his master.
“Master... how are we going to get to the city without somepony pulling the wagon?” He looked over the side, and as he did he saw the wagon's wheel spark with magic. He looked back at his master, whose horn had begun to glow.
“I don't care for magic,” Brook said, “but that doesn't mean I can't use it.” His horn dimmed, and the wagon lurched forward. It rumbled to life, rolling out past the house on its own. Blueblood looked over his shoulder, watching the house slowly drift away. Brook looked back as well, and sighed. The house fell away, the wagon picking up speed as it traveled. Soon they were deep in the forest again, the old house far out of sight. Blueblood sighed, and laid his head down. Brook nodded knowingly, but remained silent.
Neither Brook nor Blueblood spoke for the trip into the city. Brook stared dead ahead, focusing on steering the wagon and keeping it moving. The wagon moved much faster than Blueblood could ever have hoped to pull it, and they were out of the forest in just a little under and hour.
Blueblood used the silence to think, and ponder the situation. His worry over Brook had been part of what bothered him, but it was not the only thing by far. The more he thought about it, the less he could avoid coming to the conclusion that he would be fighting a war against his own country.
Some old part of him wanted to shove the concerns aside. After all, it thought, Equestria was the most powerful nation on the continent. Aloa wouldn't stand a chance in the conflict. Even as he thought that, though, he doubted it. What if Aloa really could win the war? What if they took over Equestria? Or what if Equestria took over Aloa? He couldn't imagine what option would be worse. He thought about the outcome, and he could see rebellion. Just like in that first game of Casualty, the losing country might rebel, tearing itself apart from the inside. Aloa was too proud to be subjected to the rule of another, and Celestia would never allow her citizens to be put under Aloa's hoof. Blueblood shuddered at the thought. Even if it were not that bad, he knew the costs would be immeasurable. How many ponies would die in the battle?
Why? he asked himself. What could possibly make Auntie declare war? She wanted peace more than anything... He lay his head on the edge of the wagon, pondering the war. None of it made any sense to him. Auntie had wanted peace. That was why she had organized the summit. It just didn’t make sense for her to declare war. Even if it had been propaganda, and the Aloans had been the ones who declared the war it still baffled him. The Aloans would have no reason to declare war, unless something had gone poorly at the meetings.
Then it struck Blueblood. something had gone wrong at the summit. One of the delegates had been missing - him. He had been kidnapped by the Aloans.
Did auntie find out? he wondered, a sudden tightness in his chest. Does auntie know what happened to me? But if she does... why hasn’t she come for me? Unless she has... He knew what Celestia would have done first. She would have asked the king about him. And if the king didn’t have an answer... would she keep pushing? Would she believe him?
Would auntie really go to war over me? he thought. He didn’t want to admit it, but he knew that she would. Both Celestia and his mother would go to war over him. The thought of it made him feel sick in the pit of his stomach, was the knowledge that all that death and devastation was done for him. Hundreds, thousands of ponies would be killed all because of him.
The wagon arrived at Port Ponzance by mid-morning. The gates were flung wide open, with ponies trailing in and out almost constantly. Ponies with wagons, ponies with crops to sell, even just ponies with nothing more than the wrappings about their necks all corwded along the road..
Blueblood sat up, looking down at all of them. Brook shook his head sadly, and Blueblood looked curiously at the old stallion.
“Recruits,” Brook said without being asked. “If war is coming... the kingdom needs recruits. Some of them will be young ponies looking for adventure. Some will want to protect their country. Some just won't have anything else to do.” He sighed, and shook his head again. Blueblood felt the familiar pain of guilt, but it didn't have time to fester as it had before. They soon passed through the gates, and were plunged into a sea of ponies moving about within the city’s walls.
Stalls had been set up along the streets, hawking various wares: gaudy jewelry, crops, advertisements for armour and weapons. Recruitment offices had set up stalls on every corner, and lines of young stallions zig-zagged across the streets to fill out the forms. Vendors shouted out advertisements, their voices blending together into an almighty din. There was no words, only noise. Blueblood could hardly hear himself think, and Brook was having a difficult time maneuvering the wagon through the crowd. He propelled it forwards, gently nudging at the ponies in his path until they moved out of the way.
The crowd seemed to mostly be gathered around the gates. Most of the ponies dispersed as they made their way deeper into the city, but the hub road to the docks was still far from empty. Still, Brook was able to move the wagon briskly through the streets, and Blueblood could soon smell the familiar, salty scent of the ocean. He could feel the wagon pick up speed as they began to roll down a steep hill, and in the distance Blueblood caught a glimpse of the ocean again.
It was the first time he had been truly lucid when he saw it. He hadn't appreciated the beauty of the spectacle before, but now he realized just why ponies gravitated to it so. It was magnificent, a sheet of blue stretching out for miles and miles. The morning light reflected off it like a mirror, gleaming brilliantly for the world to see. As they drew closer the the docks Blueblood could see ships pulling in and out of the harbor, passing by the enormous pillars in the water. He only vaguely remembered the ocean gate, but something seemed different about it. He squinted, peering at the top of arches. There seemed to be tiny figures moving back and forth across them.
“Are those...” he asked slowly, “ponies?” Brook looked and nodded.
“It's war time now,” he said. “Things are changing. The gates will be ready until the war is over. Those ponies will lower barriers over the arches if an enemy is coming, to keep them away from the city.”
“Oh...” Blueblood said. “Would they really attack a city full of innocent ponies?” Brook shrugged.
“You'd know better than me... but we can never be too careful. We can't risk the ponies here being hurt.” Blueblood nodded and lowered his head sadly. As if it weren't bad enough that soldiers could be killed over him, was there really a chance that innocent ponies could die? He moaned quietly to himself. Brook looked over at him carefully.
“You've never seen a war before, have you?” he asked. Blueblood shook his head.
“No...” he said. “The one you told me about last night... it would have happened when I was a foal.” Brook stared silently at him.
“Red... how old are you?”
“21 years old, master,” Blueblood answered. Brook nodded.
“It would have ended a year after you were born, then,” he said. “Not enough time to see it... they really didn't teach you about it?” Blueblood shook his head, and Brook sighed. “I don't blame them,” he said quietly. “I wouldn't want to remember either...”
The wagon slowed to a halt as they pulled up to the docks. Blueblood got out and helped Brook down, the old pony levitating his luggage out of the wagon. He placed the two small bags on Blueblood's back, carrying the trunk himself.
“We'll find a boat here,” Brook said. “Something nice and comfortable. You've never been out to sea before, have you?”
“Once,” Blueblood said quietly. “When I was... well, when I was being brought here. I don't really remember it well.” Brook nodded.
“I see,” he said. “We'll get a big ship. Nice and comfortable. Besides...” The old stallion gave a sly smile. “It'll keep us away from Ys that much longer.” Blueblood smiled faintly as well, and the two trotted onto the docks.
The docks were in chaos. The scent of salt in the air was accompanied by sweat as large, burly stallions dashed about madly. The cranes, ropes and pulleys were all constantly in action as crates full of supplies were loaded onto ships. Large stallions in armour trotted importantly to and fro, and Blueblood shied away from them all nervously. Brook was careful to keep close to him, leading him through the hectic crowd.
Eventually they broke through most of the hubbub and onto a less populated section near the bank. Blueblood saw dozens of sea ponies sticking out of the water, bickering with unicorns or tossing packages out of the water to ponies on ships and docks. Sailors ran up and down gangplanks and across decks, prepping their ships to sail or tying them into port. They barked orders back and forth, devolving into shouting matches between ship captains as they tried to have their commands heard over one another. The very air itself seemed ripe with tension. Everypony here was preparing, and they all knew for what. They all dreaded it, but they were preparing for it nonetheless. There was a somber air beneath the panic; Blueblood could feel it.
Brook limped slowly along the bank, inspecting each of the ships using some criteria that Blueblood couldn't even guess at. He followed after the old stallion quietly, observing the ships as they went past. There were small vessels with a single mast, and larger boats with three or four. Brook stopped in front of one three-masted boat. There was an ancient, grizzled unicorn sitting on the bow, giving orders to his crew. Brook headed up the dock, calling out to the old pony.
“Ahoy there!” he shouted. The ship captain looked down at him.
“Ahoy at you,” he called back. “We're about to ship out, You'll have to make it quick!”
“Where're you headed for?” Brook asked. He was beginning to slip into a naval dialect similar to the sailors on the dock, and Blueblood imagined that he must have been used to sailing when he was a soldier. Aloa had an unparalleled navy, after all.
“We're going to Ys,” the captain said. “Shipping steel. Good business for it out there, now.”
“You might be interested in shipping a couple of stallions out there?” Brook asked. The ship captain scratched his chin thoughtfully.
“Might do,” he said. “Might do. You come on board, we'll talk it over.” Brook nodded, and set the trunk down beside Blueblood.
“Will you stay here with the luggage?” he asked. Blueblood nodded, and Brook limped up the dock and onto the ship. The captain disappeared from sight, no doubt taking Brook into his quarters to barter over prices. Blueblood shrugged the bags off his back, sitting on the dock. He peered over the edge and into the water, staring at his reflection.
He tried to tell himself that there might be another reason for the war. If the Aloans were willing to kidnap him, it was possible that they would do even more for power. It was also possible that they had done something after Blueblood had been gone that caused it. No matter how he try to reason though, he couldn't shake the awful feeling in his gut that this was all his fault. He sighed miserably, staring at the water. His reflection seemed to rippled and distort, and to his confusion another face seemed to be replacing it. It looked like a mare – a mare with an icy blue coat and mane.
The face burst out of the water, a sea pony following along behind it. She leapt up, grabbing Blueblood around the neck.
“Surprise!” she shouted. Blueblood jolted, falling backwards and pulling the sea pony out of the water. She laughed hysterically, flopping her tail on the dock. Blueblood lay on his back, spluttering in shock. The sea pony dragged herself over to him, resting her chin on her hooves. “Hiya, Red!” she said excitedly.
“I... wha... Azure?” Blueblood asked, dumbfounded. Azure giggled happily at him.
“So you do remember me! For a minute there I thought you'd forgotten!”
“No,” Blueblood said. “No, I... you remember me?”
“Of course I remember you, Red,” she said. She reached out, brushing away his mane and feeling his forehead gently. “You're sort of a hard face to forget around here.” Blueblood smiled in spite of himself, and chuckled.
“Thank you,” he said. “What are you doing here?” Azure grinned, and patted her flank.
“I said I was a messenger, didn't I?” she asked. “There's load for me to do, now. Everypony wants a message sent to the sailors, or the shippers, or the soldiers. Sometimes they even want me to hand something off to get delivered in another city. It's crazy here, Red.” He eyes narrowed. “What are you doing here? You're not... shipping out are you?” a look of concern flashed across her face. Blueblood rubbed his neck.
“Well...” he said, “my master's been called to Ys. To... serve as a general.” Azure sighed, and laughed.
“That's a relief. I'd hate to think of you going off to war.” She propped herself up on her elbows, and tapped her chin. “Did you say your master was summoned to be a general?” she asked. Blueblood nodded.
“That's right,” he replied. Azure's eyes widened.
“That's amazing!” she said. “You'll be living the high life in Ys, you know. Good for you!” She punched his shoulder playfully, and he grinned.
“Yeah?” he asked.
“Oh, yeah,” Azure said. “I've been there once or twice. It's an amazing city, and if you're working for a military stallion during a war? I'll bet you've never seen anything like it.” Blueblood smiled.
“Well,” he said, “I think I might have. But it sounds nice anyways.” Azure grinned at him. Blueblood was about to say something else when he heard his master call out to him.
“Red!” Brook called, appearing on the bow of the ship. “The captain is letting us travel to Ys with him! Bring the luggage on board!” Blueblood got to his hooves, nodding.
“Yes, master!” he shouted back. He turned to Azure, and smiled at her. “I have to go now, Azure,” he said. “Do you need some help getting back into the water?” Azure laughed, and rolled off the docks.
“Of course not,” she said, breaking the surface again. She leaned against the dock and smiled up at the white stallion. “You have a good time in Ys, okay?” she said. “Don't work too hard.” Blueblood smiled back at her.
“Sure,” he said. Azure winked at him and sank back under the water, and Blueblood ginned wider. He grabbed the bags, placing them on his back, and began to push the heavy trunk along the dock.
***
Azure swam between the docks, ducking under the surface and bobbing up to look for the recipient of her delivery. She had been around the dock for almost a quarter of an hour before she had seen Red, searching for the unicorn she had been told to find. She hated being at the dock when it was this busy. There were always too many ponies for her to be able to find any one in particular, and looking at all the magic gave her a headache. Even whistling probably wouldn't work; if she was heard at all she doubted that the unicorn that heard her would care enough to point her in the right direction. She sighed, floating on the surface of the ocean when something caught her eye.
She rolled over and swam closer to get a better view. For a moment she thought she had imagined it, but she had not. There was another earth pony on the docks: a tall, powerful-looking stallion with a steel-gray coat and mane. His mane was long and unkempt, and a ragged beard ran along his jaw. He had a fat red unicorn with him, and the pair were followed by a small pack of soldiers. The earth pony stomped down the dock, growling to his friend.
“...Lost him!” Azure heard him say as she approached. “How could we ruddy lose him!? He's the only earth pony here, and we somehow managed to lose him! He's pure white, the idiot should stick out like a sore hoof!”
Azure's eyes bulged. Could these ponies be talking about Red? She drifted closer, but something about the earth pony felt wrong to her. There was an edge to him, like there was to a soldier. He felt different from other soldiers, though: less disciplined, and more dangerous. The sort of pony who would start a fight over literally nothing. The very air around him seemed unstable. All of a sudden Azure felt a deep, pressing fear in the pit of her stomach, and she knew she needed to hear what they were saying. She swam beneath the dock, sinking until only the top of her head was above the water, and listened intently.
“Calm down, Iron,” the red unicorn said, trying to placate his friend. “We haven't lost him. We know where he's going, and we know what ship he got on.”
“I know that as well as you, you fat idiot!” the pony called Iron hissed. “What I don't know is, why did we let him get away!? Why didn't we just grab him then and there?”
“Iron please,” the unicorn said, more urgently. “Keep your voice down.”
“Oh, like any of you unicorns is going to care what some earth pony has to say.” Iron scoffed. The red unicorn shook his head.
“Anyways, we couldn't just grab him here. We're surrounded by other ponies, and he was with White Brook. We'd have been caught in seconds!” Iron scowled.
“You keep using that name, White Brook. As if he were somepony I was supposed to care about.” The unicorn sighed.
“Equestrians,” he said. “You were a palace guard, Iron. You would think you of all ponies would know who White Brook is, and why he's dangerous.” Iron snorted again.
“Dangerous,” he said dismissively. “All I see is an old crippled unicorn. Nothing dangerous about any of you pin-heads.” The unicorn looked like he was about to argue, but Iron spun on him in a flash, stomping his hoof down. The dock they were on shook, and the red unicorn clammed up. Iron scowled, and hissed under his breath. Azure had to swim directly beneath the pair to hear him.
“It doesn't matter who or who isn't with him,” the gray pony said. “He's gone. What are you going to do about it, Letter?”
“If you had listened,” Letter said quietly, “you would know I have a plan. They took a large boat. We know what it's called, and where it's going.”
“So?” Iron asked harshly. Letter rubbed his brow.
“So,” he said, “We take a small boat. We'll get there much faster. Then we can wait.”
“Ah,” Iron said, his voice taking on a cruel, gleeful edge. “A surprise attack. We jump him on the docks.”
“In private,” Letter corrected. “Ys is full of small, tight side streets. We get them in there, and then -”
“I kill them!” Iron hissed happily. Azure gasped, and the two ponies above her stopped. Her eyes bulged as she realized that they had heard her, and sank into the water. Iron looked over the edge of the dock, scouring the water for some sign of a pony. Luckily for her, Azure's eyes and ears were built for the water. She could see him clearly, but he would never be able to see her. His eyes twitched nervously back and forth, but he slowly turned back to his partner.
“Take care of White Brook first,” Letter told him in hushed tones. “Kill him before he knows you're there. Otherwise, you won't get a chance.”
“Don't tell me how to kill ponies,” Iron growled. “I know how to kill ponies. Let's find a boat.” Letter sighed, but nodded. The two set off, their soldiers following after them cautiously. Azure waited until they were all gone before she resurfaced. She swam too and fro nervously, thinking what she should do.
The ponies on the dock had very clearly been talking about Red. They might not have said his name, but who else could they have been talking about? A pure white earth pony didn't come along every day. She chewed at her hooves nervously for a moment, before diving underwater. She zipped in between the other sea ponies swimming below the docks, passing through the checkpoint and into the open ocean. No ship, no matter how fast, could sail faster than a sea pony – especially not her. Her delivery forgotten, she set course for Ys.
***
The trip to Ys was a long one. Port Ponzance was located near the middle of the peninsula, and the capital was at its very tip. The trip would take them just over a week, the captain had told them, and that was if they had good weather the whole way. For all the warnings he had about rough weather and storms, though, the grizzled captain was almost supernaturally talented at navigating them away from anything but smooth waters.
Blueblood spent most of his time on the deck. He would often watch the sailors working, and he found himself being put to use more often than not. The gruff sailors would send him running about the decks tying off knots and doing simple tasks like cleaning the deck. Brook watched silently from the sidelines of it all, occasionally giving Blueblood advice and encouragement.
When the sailors had nothing for him to do, however, Blueblood would sit at the bow, looking out over the ocean. He had never seen anything like it before in his life. It stretched for miles in every direction, a perfect blue world. At times Blueblood couldn't even tell where the sea ended and the sky began. It was as if they were suspended in some endless void, completely alone. Their only visitors were brief glimpses of tiny ships along the horizon. Brook and the crew were tense during these moments, and after they all sighed in relief as the ship passed for the second time, Blueblood understood. War time was different from peace time. They couldn't trust any ship that they saw to be a friend; Equestria had allies on the sea, now. Every ship they saw could attack at any moment.
An attack never came, though. The first half of the trip at least had been peaceful and beautiful. Blueblood lounged at the bow, staring out into the endless ocean. His head seemed to swim with each and every dip and swell of the ocean. It felt as if his mind flew through the air each time, stretching out over the ocean and into the beams of the ship with each pass, like some foal's toy. It was difficult to concentrate with it, even as accustomed to the feeling as Blueblood was.
Though the view was magnificent, it did not concern Blueblood at the moment. His mind was occupied with other things: dark thoughts of suffering ponies. He wracked his mind desperately for something that he could do to avert it; something he could do to stop the war before it started. For all he knew the first battles could have been fought already. He tried to think past the absurd feeling and focus, but nothing came to him. He sighed, and heard a familiar shuffling sound. Brook limped up beside him and sat down.
“Red,” he said, nodding. Blueblood nodded as well.
“Master,” he said. Brook stared out over the ocean, a vague smile creeping into his lips.
“It's beautiful, isn't it Red?” he asked. “The ocean.” Blueblood looked over the ocean as well, and nodded.
“It is,” he said. “It's... I've never seen anything like it.”
“Equestria is in a valley, isn't it?” Brook asked. Blueblood nodded.
“Most of it. Some of it is on the slopes, though,” he said. Brook nodded knowingly.
“It must be strange seeing the ocean, then,” he said quietly. “You said you don't remember your trip here... did you ever see this?” Blueblood shook his head slowly.
“I don't think so,” he said. “They... kept us in the hold. It's nice though, the view.” Blueblood sighed again, leaning on the railings.
“What's the matter, Red?” Brook asked. Blueblood could hear the hint of concern in his voice, beneath the stoicism. It made him smile, just a bit, but not because he felt better.
“I... don't know,” he said. “I think I'm worried.”
“About what?”
“About... all of this. The war. I'm worried about the war.” Brook peered at him carefully.
“If your worried about me, Red, I already told you I won't be in danger.” Blueblood shook his head.
“It's not that,” he said sadly. “I understand that. It's... it's just the whole thing. It feels wrong, I suppose.”
“...You feel bad fighting against your own country?” Brook asked. Blueblood sighed.
“I guess,” he said. “But I'm worried about everything. Both the Aloans and the Equestrians... I just wish that I could stop it all.” Brook nodded solemnly.
“All we can do is try to end it quickly,” he said. “But I'm glad you’re concerned, Red.” Blueblood looked up at his master, who was smiling down at him. “It means you understand.” Blueblood smiled back at him. The ship bucked over a swell, and Blueblood's head swam. He blinked, stumbling and putting his hoof to his head. For a moment, tiny flecks of light swam through his vision like fairies, blinking in and out of existence. He shook his head, and Brook put a hoof on his shoulder to steady him.
“Are you seasick?” the old stallion asked. Blueblood blinked again, and shook his head.
“No,” he said. “I don't think so. I've felt like this before... just not when I've been awake, really.” Brook blinked at him, and Blueblood saw his eyes narrow faintly.
“Not... when you've been awake?” he asked. Blueblood nodded.
“It's how I feel when I first wake up... It's a strange feeling. I guess I'm just not used to it.”
“What does it feel like?” Brook asked. There was a strange hint of something Blueblood couldn't identify in his voice. He looked strangely at his master, but tried to explain the feeling.
“It's like...” he said slowly, “it's like I'm not inside myself anymore. Like I sort of... drift out of my body. I can feel my body beside me, almost. I can feel other things, too... everything feels much more intense. Sounds are louder, and things like that.” He paused for a moment, trying to articulate the bizarre feelings. “It feels like I'm everywhere at once,” he said. “Like I'm not just myself anymore, but...” Brook was staring at him silently, a strangely hurt look in his eyes. Blueblood lowered his head. “I'm sorry,” he said. “It must sound weird...”
“It's like you're a part of everything,” Brook said suddenly. “You're not just you anymore, you're a part of something much bigger. A part of everything.” Blueblood blinked.
“Y-yes,” he said. “That's... that's exactly what it's like. Have you felt it before?” Brook nodded sadly. He reached out with his bad hoof, brushing away Blueblood's mane.
“Red...” he said. His voice was quiet, and hurt. “I'm so sorry Red... those soldiers. You said they took something from you...” Blueblood blinked. He felt his legs start to tremble, and his heart start to pound. Brook put his hoof against Blueblood's forehead gently, right where his horn had been. There was a soft scraping noise, and Brook hung his head. “Oh, Red,” he said. Blueblood felt a lump rise in his throat.
“Master?” he asked quietly. Brook pressed his neck against Blueblood's, wrapping him in a tight hug. Blueblood began to shake. Brook knew. Even the thought that his master knew, that anypony could know, brought the memories rushing back to him. He shook violently, but Brook never let go of him. Strangely, Blueblood couldn't hear Iron's laughter. He couldn't feel himself being pushed against hard stone, and he couldn't see the cruel spectre of a mad earth pony before him. His shaking subsided, and he hugged Brook.
“I'm so sorry, Red,” Brook said. “It must have been awful... no wonder you were so frightened.” Blueblood shook his head slowly.
“It's... alright,” he said. “I've gotten used to it. Being an earth pony isn't as bad as I always thought it would be.” Brook let go of him, and brushed his forehead again. “Master?” Blueblood asked.
“Yes?”
“How did you know I was a unicorn?” Brook smiled faintly.
“That feeling you described to me... you aren't really an earth pony, Red. You're still a unicorn.” Blueblood blinked at his master.
“What do you mean?” he asked.
“That feeling was magic,” Brook told him.
“Magic?” he asked. “But... my horn is gone. I can't use magic anymore.” Brook shook his head. He brushed his hoof along Blueblood's forehead, but said nothing. Blueblood blinked at him, tilting his head quizzically, but the old pony seemed to have forgotten he was there. Brook turned to look out over the ocean, his eyes taking on a faraway quality, and he sighed sadly. Blueblood stared at him, but decided to leave the old pony be.
Blueblood grew more and more concerned by Brook's strange silence as the day wore on. True, Blueblood had never known him to speak much, but there was something different about this. He almost seemed to be on edge. Blueblood told himself that Brook was simply worried about the upcoming war, as he had been. The old stallion sat on the bow, staring out over the ocean endlessly. There was a strange tension about him. Not the tension of a pony who was expecting something to happen, but different somehow. He rested his chin on his hooves limply, but his shoulders seemed tense. His eyes had a faraway look, more so than Blueblood had ever seen.
The sun eventually dipped in the sky, and Blueblood left his master at the bow. He was beginning to feel concerned by the old unicorn's silence, but he told himself that he was just worrying. After all, Brook had seemed tired like this many times before, and nothing had ever come from it. Even as the sun dipped below the horizon and the moon took its place in the sky, Brook didn't move, save perhaps for his head tilting up to watch the stars.
Blueblood had retreated to the cabin the captain had offered them on the boat. It was small and cramped, but Blueblood didn't mind. He and Brook slept in two hammocks slung up along the walls. It was a strange way to sleep, swaying along with the ship. Blueblood rubbed his eyes, climbing into his hammock and beginning to unwind his wrappings when the door opened.
Brook stepped into the room slowly. He didn't close the door behind him, stepping just inside. Blueblood stared at him. There was a pained look in Brook's eyes. His neck hung slightly, and his once-tense shoulders were slack. He looked exhausted and beaten. His eyes set on Blueblood, then cast to the floor. He sat and sighed heavily. Blueblood froze, his wrapping held in his hooves. Concern welled in his gut. He had never known Brook to ever show his feelings before. The old unicorn looked up at him, and Blueblood could finally see what was in his eyes. It was a familiar, dull light.
“Prince Blueblood,” Brook said quietly. Blueblood's breath caught in his throat. He stared at Brook, wordlessly and breathlessly. Brook looked at the floor weakly, as if he were trying to nod but did not have the energy. He reached into his wrappings slowly.
“Prince Blueblood,” he said again. “That's your name, isn't it?” Blueblood blinked.
“I...” he choked. Brook sighed, and straightened up slightly. His voice regained some of its calm strength, but it was still hurt.
“As of today, you are released from your service to me,” he said. “You are a free pony now. But before I set you free, I have one more task for you.” He withdrew his hoof from his wrappings, producing an old letter. He placed it on the floor, sliding it forward. “Read this,” he said. He stood and left the room, shutting the door behind him.
Blueblood stared at the letter on the ground. He felt as though he were in shock, his heart thudding gently in his chest. He slowly climbed out of the hammock, and walked to the letter. His legs trembled, but he ignored them, picking up the letter.
The letter looked ancient, written years ago. The parchment was dry and yellowed, crinkling softly in Blueblood's grasp. It was sealed with a blob of red wax, unmarked by any seal. Blueblood recognized it instantly. It was one of the two letters he had seen in Brook's study. He gulped, and carefully broke the seal. The ink inside was faded, but still legible.
Prince Blueblood.
My name is White Brook, and I believe that you know who I am. If you are reading this letter, however, it means that you are old enough to at least know what I have done. I am deeply sorry.
What happened was a mistake. I was angry, and foolish. I know that this does not make it right. Perhaps by the time you read this I may have done something to redeem myself, but nothing would make what I have done to you right. I took your father away from you, and what is worse I thought nothing of doing it. I do not have the right to apologize to you. I do not have the right to beg for your forgiveness. I do not even have the right to address you. You must hate me, and I cannot blame you. Even still I want you to know that I am truly, deeply sorry for what I did, more than words could ever describe.
-White Brook.
Blueblood stared at the letter. He read it again, and again. He almost didn't understand what he was reading; his mind was blank. He set the letter on the ground, his hoof trembling faintly. Almost without realizing it, he opened the door and stepped out onto the deck.
The air was cool, and crisp. The night sky was astoundingly clear, and the moon full. Stars swam across the sky in clusters and pools, painting a masterpiece on the dome above the world. Blueblood walked across the deck silently, oblivious to the beauty. He found Brook, seated at the bow. The old pony's head hung low, his shoulders slack. Blueblood sat down beside him. Brook looked over his shoulder weakly, and he sighed.
“I'm so sorry,” he said. His voice was hushed, almost a whisper. Even so, it was perfectly clear in the silence of the night. Blueblood didn't know how to respond. He blinked at Brook, who turned away, ashamed. Blueblood approached him slowly, and found his words pouring out.
“How long?” he asked. “How long did you know?” Brook closed his eyes.
“From the beginning,” he said. “The first moment I saw you. I tried to tell myself that I was wrong. I didn't want to believe it, but... you look so much like him. I remember it so clearly.”
“What happened?” Blueblood asked quietly. Brook sighed. He shook faintly, as if even the act of remembering it pained him.
“The war I told you about... the war 20 years ago. It was between Equestria and Aloa. I... had a squad under my command of a dozen unicorns. I was... a very different stallion then.” He sighed weakly, but continued. “We had information that the palace was putting on a celebration. The defenses would be weak... we were told to attack it directly. We camped in the mountains for weeks, waiting for the celebration.
“The informant let us in when the time came. We thought that it would be easy: get in, get out. We were... we were sent to take a hostage, as a bartering chip.” He looked slowly at Blueblood, who was barely breathing. “We were ordered to kidnap you,” he said.
“The informant had second thoughts. He called for the guards. I... killed him, but it was too late. The guards heard, and they came for us. We fought our way through them, but most of my squad died. I didn't care. I had a mission.” He seemed to cringe at the thought of it, slouching deeply. “I was a different pony then,” he said again, almost as much to himself as to Blueblood.
“Those of us who were left, made our way through the palace. There were four of us... we lost two more in the hallways, but we made it to your chamber. The last soldier with me was... he was my brother. My little brother. He was under my command.” He smiled humorlessly. “I remember talking to him before the mission. He was excited to be a part of it. He always looked up to me.” He shook his head, and continued recounting the tale for Blueblood. “Your father was waiting for us in the room. He... killed my brother. Ambushed us when we walked in, and broke his neck. It was a lucky shot, he didn't mean to do it. But... I was furious.” Brook was trembling, now. “I murdered him,” he said. “I murdered your father in cold blood. I'm so sorry.” He closed his eyes, turning away from Blueblood
The pair were silent. Blueblood stared breathlessly, and Brook stared at the floor. Blueblood slowly walked forward, and nudged Brook with his nose.
“Master,” he said finally. Brook shook his head.
“I'm not your master anymore, Blueblood,” he said.
“Yes you are,” Blueblood said.
“No I'm not. I set you free. You aren't a slave anymore. You're free to... do whatever you want.”
“That isn't why I'm calling you master,” Blueblood said. Brook looked at him slowly. Guilt was clear in his eyes. “You taught me,” Blueblood said. “That's why I call you master.” Brook stared at him silently, his face still sunken. Blueblood pawed at the deck, but looked squarely into his master's eyes. “I never knew my father,” he said.
“Because I took him away from you,” Brook said.
“Master...” Blueblood said, “you've given me so much. Anything you took away from me, you gave me back.” Brook blinked, and Blueblood could see him swallow.
“How?” he asked. “What I did was horrible. How can you forgive me so easily?”
“Because I never knew him,” Blueblood said. He leaned forward, pressing his neck gently against Brook's. “How can I miss somepony I never knew? But master, I care about you. You helped me when I needed it, and taught me what I needed to know. You aren't the same pony who killed him. You said it yourself.” Brook looked away again.
“I said I was a different pony,” he said. “But that doesn't change what I did. We can't just forget who were, Blueblood.”
“But we can be better,” Blueblood said. Brook turned to him again. “You taught me that, master,” Blueblood said. “You taught me so much.” He looked up at Brook, smiling warmly. A slow smiled spread across Brook's face, and his eyes glistened.
“Did I?” he asked. He nuzzled Blueblood gently. “I think you learned better than I did...” He pressed his neck against Blueblood's, sighing sadly. “Oh, Blueblood,” he said. “I'm so sorry. I didn't even care when I did it. But then Celestia came...”
“You fought Auntie Celestia?” Blueblood asked, dumfounded. Brook chuckled faintly.
“It... wasn't much of a fight,” he said. “She broke my hoof, and crippled me. She stopped the war all on her own. She stormed Ys, and dropped me in front of the king. She called Prince Tidus, and threatened to burn the country to the ground if the war didn't end.” He shook his head. “They thought I was some sort of hero. But when I went home... It was so empty, without my brother. I wrote those letters. One for you, and one for your mother.” He sighed once more. “I'm so sorry, Blueblood.” he said. Blueblood smiled, and hugged the old stallion tight. Brook hugged him back gently.
A warm breeze blew through, filling the ship's sails. Blueblood breathed deeply, taking in the night with his master. He finally saw the stars. They were amazing, a million tiny dots in the night sky. He could see galaxies, stretching across the sky like trails of dust. Blueblood sighed happily.
“Master?” he asked.
“Yes?” Brook replied. Blueblood looked up at him, smiling warmly.
“I forgive you,” he said.