//------------------------------// // 89.7 She Sells Sea Shells on the Sandy Shore // Story: Prey and a Lamb // by Lambs Prey //------------------------------// The railroads of Equestria were a steadily expanding industry. Quite literally. More tracks out to previously isolated little towns were laid every year, providing access, connections, and jobs. Not even taking into account transportation of goods, and instead only evaluating these new train lines on its use for passengers, to them it was still useful as a mostly reliable, cheapish, steady, and usually accessible service. For two-thirds of the pony population, it was also much faster than travelling by hoof. For pegasi, it averaged about the same speed as when flying. But a train could also go much further than a pegasus could, provided the tracks reached somewhere you wanted to go. Personally, Prey had been experiencing the Equestrian railroad industry an awful lot of late. It made Prey remember the tantalising descriptions of flight Crimson had wistfully shared, because that was all he could share, and made him wish again for wings of his own. But sheep don't have wings, and he was a runt besides. If he'd had any, his wings would've probably been undeveloped too or something. Flying would also have meant he didn't have to experience the questionable pleasure of the Border Rangers’ company. They'd boarded the train at midday in Canterlot, and had been on it ever since. This was going to be an overnight journey. There was to be a four hour layover in the middle of the night at a station along the way, and various other train stops, but they would not be leaving the carriage until tomorrow morning when the train pulled into the port town of Haven Hay. Not counting sleep, that still left a good nine to ten hours within their carriage apartment stuck in close proximity with the four self-proclaimed 'Border Rangers'. ------- The Border Rangers were loud. All of them. Easy going, laid-back, boisterous, boastful, but definitely also loud. Their inconsiderate volume annoyed Prey with his sharper hearing to no end. Gloom had broken out a map of Haven Hay and its surroundings, and tried to discuss the coming mission. Which, admittedly, had worked for the first hour. The ISND had gone over what they knew again, which wasn't much, and the Border Rangers had used the map to make some predictions about where and how the wild storms which were damaging Haven Hay were forming. "With the coast right there though, most of this goes out the window. Nopony to maintain any weather control out at sea, see?" Nimbus Feather had shrugged, then laughed at his own pun. But that hadn't lasted long, there'd only been so many times they could rehash the same old information they had without going round in circles. That, and the four Royal Guards hadn't been all that interested in even trying. "We'll see what we see when we get there. Nothing else for it but to wait and see, see? See what I did there again?" Nimbus further joked, repeating the same uninspired pun yet again, getting outrageous groans from his three subordinates. And stares from each of the ISND. That had still left eight plus hours to be filled. Gloom, Prey, and Crimson could have passed that in shared silence, with just the clack of the train tracks and rocking of the carriage, each to their own thoughts. Perhaps a quiet conversation or two, but they each knew the others well. Nimbus, Inky, Bravo, and Trail Blazer didn't seem physically capable of sitting and doing nothing in silence. Trail Blazer had pulled out a deck of well-worn cards within five minutes of their attempted planning session coming to an end, and with a sly grin, challenged, "Who wants to lose? Come on, step right up, first round’s bet-free." The Border Rangers had seen nothing wrong with that, not seeing this time as "on duty", and more as "travelling to duty", and so were happy to indulge in a little game of betting. The ISND had, of course, declined to join. Their reasoning had very little to do with upholding the rules, but that still got good natured jeers from the Royal Guards. "Not afraid to lose, are you?" "C'mon, join us, join us!" Gloom was secretly tempted to tell Prey to play, as he was somehow sure the lamb could clean the four pegasi out, even if he had no basis for his assumption beyond simply knowing Prey as well as he did. '-he can get into anypony's head given enough time-', Gloom had thought, ironically not knowing how accurate that was. Nevertheless- Inky, Bravo, and Nimbus all joined in on Trail Blazer's game. The betting pool ended up only being a dozen bits in the end, on account of how often everyone kept winning and then losing, meaning the pot never actually ended up growing any bigger. Which was probably the point. They were obviously mostly playing to pass the hours. Gloom, Crimson, and Prey sat there across the carriage apartment, forced into listening to the almost ceaseless banter and bad jokes. Crimson tried to quietly meditate, but was forced to give up after only fifteen minutes of trying. It was hopeless. --- "What'cha got there?" Inky drawled, sprawled backwards over the seat, helmetless head dangling upside down over the seat's lip. She had her wings partly open bracing herself like that, and was seemingly immune to the discomfort of doing so while still in armour. 'The weapon of choice I'm going to use to slit your throat tonight with, runically enhanced to part your flesh like water.' Prey thought. What he said was; "A pocketknife." Not bothering to try and pointlessly hide it. "What'cha doing with it?" Prey made a show of slowly and carefully folding the single bladed pocketknife, like he wasn't completely confident in what he was doing, before slipping it back into an outside pocket of his backpack. Then he answered; "Seeing if it was sharp." "Where'd cha' get it from?" Was Inky's next drawled demand, that bouncy strand of mane dangling straight down from almost the middle of her forehead. "The Guard storeroom." "What, Bitter Carrot will give you a knife if you just ask?" "The Night Guard storeroom." Inky frowned upside down, perhaps not realising that even like that everyone could still clearly read her expression. She was recalling the conversation where Nimbus had returned from double checking with the Captain that, yes, Prey really was somehow part of the Night Guard. Inky didn't agree with that since Prey was underage, and doubly didn't agree because it was the Night Guard he was in. If it had been the Royal Guard instead, she still wouldn't have been happy, but at least somewhat happier. "So, like, why'd cha' join the Night Guard?" Prey only answered the question she'd asked, not the one she'd implied, and made it the barest of answers too; "Because Princess Luna said so." The upside-down frown grew, "But like, why? Don't cha' have school at the very least? Why'd your mom and dad agree?" Prey smiled sweetly and just repeated, "Because Princess Luna said so." --- The train continued on, methodically chugging through Equestria. Fields, country roads, small towns and hamlets, trees, and countryside passed outside the window. The hours aboard the train however seemed to pass much slower than the pleasant scenery outside. At the point where the four Border Rangers started chorusing a sing-song within the confines of the small apartment, Prey had to step out and take break. He left the sounds of; "~And we fly Oooh-oooh doooown!", behind him as the sliding door shut and cut off the racket. He took a long walk up and down the swaying carriages, checking the windows and exits, and then did it again just to kill some more time. For a little while, the muted *Clack-clack, Clack-clack* of the wheels on the tracks was the only disturbance he had to listen to. When he reluctantly returned and re-entered their compartment, Prey found that somehow, Trail Blazer had managed to draw Crimson into conversation. Maybe the scruffily groomed pegasus was just too annoying for Crimson to ignore? "...No, that is not what happened. That isn't even close to what happened. Where did you even hear that?" Crimson was in the middle of flatly denying something. Prey saw Gloom bearing witness to whatever this conversation was, and was sent a longsuffering look as he stepped back in. Trail Blazer shrugged his scruffily-kept wings, "Well, you didn't have any old Royal Guard records, I know, we looked, so duh, of course you could have been a spy." "You looked at our records?" Crimson asked just as flatly. "Of course we did," Trail Blazer answered, not repentant or embarrassed in the slightest, "Not that it helped. Obviously. So tell me, what's the big secret?" Bravo leaned in too, sharing his scruffy colleague’s curiosity, "I already lost the bet on you being an intelligence operative, but I've still got an open bingo slot on a spy agency." "We are intelligence. ISND. It stands for Intelligence and Secrecy Night Guard Division." "Yeah, but you're not a spy spy. It's not the same at all." Trail Blazer grinned. Prey was tempted to just turn around and go for another ten minute walk up and down the train. The gold-clad pegasi were obviously being purposefully obtuse, and were going to continue being annoying, he could just tell. Off to the side, Inky was eating a sandwich, and talking with her mouth full to Nimbus about something unimportant. Crimson continued to give Bravo and Trail Blazer that flat, impassive look, not even the very tips of his tufted ears twitching to give anything away. "I come from clan Myrrdon. If you do not know who they are, then you should have been looking at different records. And I've never been part of the Royal Guard, so you were doubly looking in the wrong place." Bracing himself for irritation, Prey slipped back in and quietly retook his seat beside his backpack on the bench, using the bag as an impromptu barrier as he settled into the corner. He sent a quick nod to Crimson, just to show he was listening in, and that if Crimson really needed a break then he could create a distraction. "Ponyfeathers, that's me out of the bingo running then." Trail Blazer muttered, while Bravo's eyebrowless brow furrowed in thought. "Meredon? Hmm, Meredon, oh, I remember now. That's one of those new thestral clans, ain't it?" "Myrrdon." Crimson corrected evenly. "And new? No." "New to Equestria, same thing." Bravo shrugged his broad shoulders. Utterly untrue. The thestral clans were older than Canterlot was. It was simply that ponykind had been ignorant of the clans until this year. Crimson visibly decided it wasn't worth the effort to correct the other annoying pegasus' misconception, although you'd have had to have been Prey to read the tiny tic in Crimson's expression which said that. "So does your clan have its own mini-Cloudsdale? Did you fly it around for years while staying really high up, and that's how you stopped anypony from noticing you for all those years?" Bravo asked. The question sounded incredibly moronic, however it wasn't actually as dumb as it sounded. Only mostly. The sky was a vast and empty place, and it was everywhere, although usually, it wasn't any good for hiding. The sky was vast, but it was also clear. There's nowhere to hide from any eyes on the ground which were turned upwards. Much like the open ocean, there's nowhere to run out there. But with the cloudwalking abilities of pegasi, it changed the equation somewhat. You look up and see a cloudbank rolling in. You see it, but you don't understand how gigantic it truly is. The cloud covers half the sky, a towering white fog miles high, and maybe hundreds of miles wide. And the higher the cloud is, the harder it would be to spot any distant specks living on it, especially if they only came out at night. Like the eagle and a sparrow. Because of the distance, both look the same size when viewed from the perspective of someone on the ground. However, Bravo's question fell apart if you took more than two seconds to consider it. First, because of how controlling Equestria was about its weather. Any enormous cloud which drifted willy-nilly wherever it wanted? No way they wouldn't investigate that and discover the ruse immediately. While it might take a pegasus an hour to fly up that high to check, they would still check. Second, was the timescale which Bravo was dismissing here. A thousand years hiding up in the open sky? Someone over the many, many years would've spotted a thestral. Even if they only came out at night, stayed high, and were cautious, somewhere along the line someone would've slipped up and then the jig would've been up. Thirdly, and most obviously, were the same logistics problems Cloudsdale itself ran into, but without all the benefits of having ground-based Equestrian support in the form of their pony brethren, earth ponies and unicorns. You couldn't farm on a cloud. Without either magic or lightning-forged cloud steel, you couldn't store even a single pebble on a cloud. Food, water, medicine, blankets, winter clothing, weapons, all of these and more would simply fall through the insubstantial material of condensed water vapour. That was why Bravo, as a pegasus, really should have known how poor of a question it was. Crimson just looked at Bravo and stated simply, "No." "Bugger, so that theory's a flop. No worries, that just narrows it down some more! How about a partnership with unicorns for magic-?" "No." Crimson stated more firmly. Trail Blazer tried to chime in with a ridiculous suggestion of his own that had been floating around the Guard mess hall; "Does it have anything to do with the Dragon Lands-?" "No." "Say, Griffonia has recently shut the border-?" "No." Trail Blazer was finding this all quite comedic to his sense of fun. "So, hypothetically, say if your clan or whatever was to-" "No," It was Gloom who finally stepped in, looking up from sorting through one of his open saddlebags, "And please cut that out, it’s insulting. How would you feel if we were to repeat such obviously outlandish stories about Canterlot? All of them are completely fake, anyways." Bravo and Trail Blazer both laughed, took it as a joke, and let the matter drop to move onto other things. Their probing had been without rancour, but that was not an excuse for poor manners. "Hey, is that one of those fire message bottles in there?" Nimbus Feather suddenly cut in, half unfurling one large wing to point before deciding against it in the enclosed space and simply using his hoof instead. Everyone's attention automatically shifted to see what the Staff Sargent was pointing at, which was the glow coming from inside the open flap of Gloom's saddlebags. Visible inside was the upper portion of a green glass bottle, a slowly curling flame floating inside being the glow's source. "The term is message-in-a-bottle, and yes." Gloom answered. He almost flipped the saddlebag shut, but hesitated, not wanting to give the impression he had anything to hide, and so instead just turned the bag around to more clearly display the corked glass bottle snugly packed inside. Nimbus let out a low whistle, "Your Captain let you bring one of those? That's cool, of course, but I wouldn't want to have to explain having to use one of them when I got back. Those things cost a fortune." Inky cocked her ear and looked blank. Trail Blazer raised his hoof, "Uuuhh...?" "Oh right, that there's a message bottle, and it can send any letter one time from anywhere, instantly. So, for really expensive emergencies only." Nimbus explained to Trail Blazer. "Message-in-a-bottle," Gloom patiently corrected again, closing the flap now that everyone'd had a chance to look, "And yes, it's for emergency communication. Hopefully, it won't be needed at any point during this mission." "How much is 'a fortune'?" Bravo asked in interest. "Uhhh..." Nimbus looked to Gloom. "They cost..." Gloom trailed off, couldn't quite recall, so looked over to Prey instead, "How much does one cost?" Prey had been hoping to continue being ignored for however long he could, but he answered anyways, "To the Night Guard specifically, each has a budget value of one thousand and fifty bits. On the public market, one would probably go for at least two thousand or upwards." "You just have that kind of stuff floating around in your head?" Trail Blazer asked Prey in surprise, "Are you one of those ponies who likes math?" '-yikes, who actually wastes time memorising random trivia like that?-' Prey pretended not to hear, or at least take it as a rhetorical question. "Better not break the bottle then." Inky observed brightly. '-not likely, it's enchanted-', Gloom thought, but didn't comment. He, much like Prey, was just going to treat it like a rhetorical statement and hope to let the conversation die. Neither did he share the information that he had a second message-in-a-bottle in his other saddlebag. Or that Prey and Crimson each carried spares too. Gloom would have insisted on it, if Nighthawk hadn't already beaten him to it. There had been no chance of them risking going out anywhere without one, not with their experience of the unpredictable. But that information wasn't relevant to the Border Rangers in any way. It wasn't the only emergency, worst case scenario supply Gloom, Crimson, and Prey had packed either. In those grim moments of flashing memory- remembering the salt cellar, the lumberyard, Mayflower, and Griffonstone, each of them had quietly and individually packed something more. They hadn't talked about it, but that only meant there had been nothing to discuss. Hope for the best, expect the worst, and you'll be halfway prepared. Crimson had packed the dagger Prey had given him as an extra, and Gloom had too. In the rack overhead, the halves of the snap-together short spear Gloom had brought lay. And Crimson never went anywhere without his father's wingblades. And in Prey's pack, bundled at the very bottom, carefully wrapped and hidden, sat a prepared bone rot mine. And courtesy of Prey, there was a second one in the bottom of Crimson's saddlebags too. Crimson and Gloom might never have actually learnt the name of bone rot mines, but in the aftermath of Mayflower and their recovery in Canterlot hospital, both were certainly well aware of the utterly illegal and lethal nature of Prey's creation. Prey had approached each of them separately, and had asked, hypothetically, if they wouldn't mind carrying something about this size, about this shape, something acidic in nature, and a certain poisonous viscous green in colour. Bone rot mines were damned heavy things, especially to haul around all day long, and he was a runt. Prey hasn't said the exact words, he hadn't needed to. He'd looked up at them and they'd looked back, and each had known the other knew exactly what he was talking about. But he hadn't said it outright, pretending it was hypothetical, and leaving them each a flimsy excuse to protest; "I didn't know" afterwards if they wanted to. Gloom had thought about it, he really had, but had answered no. He would not carry one of them for Prey. Prey had accepted that, and thanked him for answering his hypothetical question. Crimson had said yes after a long minute of hard thought, and Prey had accepted that too. Fear mixed with bitter experience can make for a great motivator in keeping a secret. Prey was really, really, really hoping that it could stay a secret throughout this whole mission and not be needed too. The best contingency plans are ones you never had to test. ------ Prey turned the historical pamphlet's last leaf, and considered what he'd just read. The Cliffs of Dove. A mysterious, twenty mile long rift cutting through the land, from coast to coast, and breaking off a chunk of Equestria to form an island. Or an isle, more accurately. Very inventively, it was named the Isle of Dove, although it was the Cliffs of Dove that were most famous. The famous, magic-negating Cliffs of Dove. Unicorn spells could not cross the rocky chasm of the rift. Spell matrixes just unravelled or exploded. Every element of spell had been tried, along with every school of magic across the many decades. Even the famously unreliable school of scrying spells had been attempted to see what lay on the island. But it wasn't to unicorns that it was so tragically famous. It was rather the pegasi who'd tried to fly across the empty chasm. No matter how high they flew, all had lost their innate magic and plummeted to their deaths. It was like an invisible shield rose straight out of the sea on all sides up to touch the sky. An airship crossing had been attempted once, and the whole thing had fallen apart halfway across before it could be turned around. Literally, fallen apart. The Cliffs of Dove were a modern, unsolved mystery. Unsurprisingly because of all this, no pony lived on the Isle of Dove. If any had ever even set hoof on it, they'd never returned to claim their feat. All recorded attempts to cross the rift and climb the Cliffs of Dove had ended in failure and or death. Sea mists and fog hung over the bulk of the Isle of Dove all year round, although not always over the famous cliffs. Telescope and eye had never seen more than a mile or two inland, and there were all kinds of wild theories about a lush bountiful oasis, or an abandoned city of gold resting at the heart of the Isle of Dove. Trees, foliage, small animal life had been glimpsed, but that was all. As to what awaited in the very middle... wild and fantastical stories abounded. Sailing out and around to land on the Isle of Dove wasn't an option either, and had brought about an equal measure of fatal failure, because the Cliffs of Dove was actually a title referring to all of the cliffs surrounding the Isle of Dove. All of them, three hundred and sixty degrees around the isle were just as cursed. Besides, there were no beaches or bays to land at anyways. Sheer cliffs, hundreds of meters high, blocked all approaches from the sea, which would have been dissuading enough even with the null magical effect radiating off the cliffs from the sea side just as it did from the land approach. Stronger, even. As such, ponies had given up even trying. In fact, it was now illegal to make the attempt, because of the incredibly high fatality rate. Tourists could come to view the cliffs in summer, but there was a fenced barrier set well back. "Wow. That's some really boring bedtime literature. Especially for a foal." Inky commented. Outside of the closed blind on the train window, the twilight of dusk was deepening. Prey didn't remember asking for the mare's uninformed opinion on the matter. 'Tear out her tongue, yez'?' Garrow's remnant jumped in to hiss out of nowhere. 'Shut up and stay dead where you belong! I didn't ask for your opinion either.' Prey mentally grabbed the irritating remnant and crushed it into a ball, shoving it back down. Prey only had to concentrate inwards for a few seconds, but by the time he next blinked, Bravo had already snatched up the conversation and run off with it; "I really want to see what's on the Isle of Dove now. It'd be a huge let down if it's just empty land with no treasure chests." "You're not to try flying over the Cliffs of Dove, that's an order." Nimbus Feather swiftly cut in, voice serious. "At least, not until I've checked for any conveniently placed treasure first. Finders keepers, losers weepers." "You aren't being serious, right?" Gloom checked. "Of course not. Besides, if anypony here is going to be the first pony in history to set hoof on the Isle of Dove, it'll definitely be Trail Blazer. His special talent is all about finding the paths no one else can." Nimbus boasted, and Trail Blazer grinned. '-so is mine, more or less, but you don't see me boasting about it-', Gloom thought. An idea occurred to Trail Blazer, and he felt the need to be smart and share it to support the praise he'd just been given, '-this sort'a reminds me of that big bucking plateau situation in the bad lands-' "I'm willing to bet ten bits that this feral weather that's damaging Haven Hay is blowing in from over the Isle, but nopony can get to it to disperse it before it turns into a storm. I can totally see that being the case." Trail Blazer suggested confidently. "Naw, they've got the weather tower just outside their town, remember? And it's built between these weird anti-magic cliff thingies, and Haven Hay. They should totally be able to deal with naturally forming storms if that were the case." Inky disagreed. "Key word there being 'naturally'." Trail Blazer smugly returned. "I'll take that bet." Bravo interjected, "And I'll also bet you a further ten bits that it's actually because the weather tower ponies aren't doing their job properly." The three Royal Guards swiftly devolved into a back and forth betting match mainly focused around disproving the other two’s ideas, while having not a shred of evidence to base their theories off in the first place. If anything, that only encouraged them to be even wilder with their crazy predictions. While that was going on, Nimbus Feather leaned across the aisle while his three subordinates were distracted to asked Gloom; "Hey, I've been meaning to ask, what's up with those scars under your eyes that ya' all have?" Gloom could scarcely believe his ears. Had Nimbus really just asked that? Wasn't he supposed to be an experienced Guard and know better? That was against the unwritten rules to ask. Unlike Gloom, Prey had no trouble believing his own ears. He also knew exactly what Nimbus was thinking, presumptuously asking that: '-either really unlucky or really careless to all get injured in the exact same way. Better make sure it's the first-' Gloom shot disbelieving looks to Crimson and Prey both, and then back to Nimbus Feather. For daring to ask so rudely, it was now doubly so none of Nimbus's damned business. Gloom took a certain amount of satisfaction in being able to use the excuse, "That relates to a classified mission. Sorry." 'You tell him.' Prey thought. Especially since it meant Prey didn't have to tell him. It was going to be a long night of trying to sleep, he could feel it. *clack-clack, clack-clack* Went the train wheels in agreement in the falling night outside. ------ Prey did not get anywhere near as much rest as he wanted that night. And it wasn't just because Inky and Bravo snored. Although they definitely did. Nor was it because of the train clack-clacking on the tracks. Or the constant rocking of the carriage. The train compartment lights had all been dimmed, so it wasn't that either. No, it was because Prey did not sleep in an unsecured area with people he did not trust. He couldn't. The four slumbering shapes of the Border Rangers had passed out near immediately without a second thought. Prey could not, and would not, do that. The presence of Crimson helped, someone he trusted, and someone who was lying between his dark corner and the other four pegasi. Gloom also helped, he counted as a protective barrier too. Plus Prey had his ribbon, a knife which had enough runic charge to part metal like paper next to his hoof, and the ability to mind-kill at a touch. It was still not enough for him to truly rest, but only drift in and out of fitful sleep in the dark of the carriage, waking in sudden fits and starts. 'I swear... if I wake up with cramps in front of everyone... I'll kill you Stinger.' Prey drifted off into uneasy sleep yet again. '...and hate you too... Luna...' It wasn't the magnitude of his most dire sins which usually kept Prey up at night, only the acts he actually regretted. And as he'd so firmly told himself, that list did not include the changelings. Although on this night, it wasn't guilt but rather paranoia that disturbed his rest instead. Over the decades, simple paranoia had added its fair share of the trophies to the long shelves of sleepless nights. And that was what Prey's half-asleep, half-awake mind decided to abstractly dream about tonight. Because his mind apparently hated him. ------ The train pulled to a slow stop with a drawn-out metal squealing of brakes. It was early morning. The sun had just finished clearing the distant horizon. The Border Rangers were first down off the train’s step, saddlebags and golden armour securely attached, and eager to stretch their wings. The ISND had to wait their turn and exited last, shouldering their own bags and blinking. For that first moment in Haven Hay, it wasn't with his eyes that Prey experienced the moment, but with his other senses first. It was the smell of the restless air that came first. Salt, and ocean. Prey had never scented the sea before, but Snake had in his single crossing from the savannah of Zebrica. It was different, not exactly fresh, but definitely not foul either. Seaweed drying on a distant beach, salt, and sea, swirling in the near constant breeze. Then it was the sounds reaching his sharp ears. A faint, far off, but constant rhythmic hissing *sssssshhooff* of waves over sand. And every few seconds without fail, from either close or far, the strident wail of gulls. Prey heard Crimson shifting his wings from behind him, feeling out the air, because the air was different. He could almost feel a tiny weight tugging on the tips of his fur and wool. The salt in the overcast air. The sounds of Haven Hay filtered in over the noise of the train. Pony voices, hooves on stone, doors closing, a barrel lid being hammered shut, a foal, and general town life. This too was always interspersed with the omnipresent cawing of gulls. 'And I bet their droppings are everywhere, too.' "Finally here." Gloom groaned with relief, rolling his neck around, "Sargent Nimbus Feather, you said somepony was going to be meeting us here. Who are we to expect?" Last was actual sight as Prey turned about to fully take in his surroundings, looking for anyone obviously waiting for them, and also beyond at the port town of Haven Hay. It was... well, it was a town, much like any other. Like any other pony town, anyway. You could compare it to another, and rather than define Haven Hay by all the similarities, perhaps instead spot the differences. All the roofs were tiled here, no thatch anywhere in sight. Thatch would just moulder and rot in the damp sea air and rain. Large storm drains and channels ran on both sides of every street, the bricks and cobbles slick. Prey looked around, while also testing the surface of the platform under his hoof. Wherever his eyes fell, it looked like everything was either wet or damp, used to being subjected to weather and rain. He noted few, if any, flowerpots on windowsills, and certainly no vegetable gardens. Copious quantities of seashell decorations seemed to be the replacement for the greenery, however. The whole town of Haven Hay was built on a sloping hill on the coast, all streets leading down to or up from the harbour, depending on how you looked at it. From up here though, the train station was at the very top of Haven Hay, and Prey could look out on the bay, its choppy waters an unfriendly grey. The shapes of the dry docks, with wooden skeletons and large crane contraptions, could be seen dominating one half of the harbour, the other half jammed haphazardly with a small maze of wooden jetties, moored boats creating a small, spindly forest of bare masts. Prey squinted, his eyesight not great, but he could see enough to tell what he was looking at. He saw a blocky lighthouse, like three huge cubes stacked atop the next, banded red and white, rising tall and solid. The lighthouse was the very last structure, planted right on the end of one of the two encircling arms of the harbour's walls, which protected the boats sheltering inside the bay within. Last of all, he looked at the overcast sea beyond the bay. Outside of the bay, the sea looked angry. White froth-tipped sheets surged and fell, the water dark, murky, and cold looking. The sea didn't stretch out to the horizon as far as he could see, but that was only because of the reduced visibility. Out to sea beneath grey clouds, an equally grey fog of rain hid the distance. Squalls, Prey believed the term was. Looking at the choppy water inside the harbour's mouth, and then out to the much more turbulent sea constantly shifting beyond it, Prey felt disturbed. There could be anything beneath those murky waves, and nature was ever merciless. Prey had seen before a raging river sweeping away all in its path, violent and unstoppable. The sea was that, but infinitely more vast in reach. Out there, everywhere was the sea's path. "I've decided I don't like the sea." Prey muttered to Crimson beside him. "But we've only just arrived." "My statement still stands." "Wow, just look at that view. Isn't it magnificent?" Bravo declared loudly to Inky and Trail Blazer, staring out over the town and the bay. Bravo Call liked to live up to his name. That is, brashly loud at all times. Prey was intensely glad to finally be off the train and out of the confined space with the bulky stallion. Nimbus Feather pointed suddenly, "There! That's our pony." A sooty coloured earth pony wearing a beaten looking raincoat was approaching them. The approaching stallion faltered somewhat when Gloom and Crimson also turned to regard him, and changed his course slightly so as to approach Nimbus and the Royal Guards, not them. Which was futile, as Gloom and Crimson immediately stepped up so as to also meet their sooty-coloured welcomer. "Staff Sargent Nimbus Feather, of Her Majesty's Royal Guard," Nimbus confidently introduced himself, smile very white, "And this is my squad, they're the best at what they do. And who do I have the pleasure of addressing?" "The ah, the pleasure is all mine. My ah, name is Jetson Float, Sargent. You ah, you are all Royal Guards...?" Jetson's eyes and ears flicked not-so furtively towards Gloom and Crimson in their darker armour. "Sargent Gloom, Princess Luna's Night Guard." Gloom more reservedly introduced himself. '-I don't like, I do not like-', Jetson's thoughts rather damningly read as he avoided all eye contact with Gloom. "The pleasure's all mine. I'm ah, sorry the sheriff was not able to meet you here in pony this morning. He sends his apologies, and hopes to ah, meet you later today instead. He had to go out to deal with-but ah, I'm sure sheriff Lumber can explain to you the details much better than I could." "Oh ho? Trouble is it?" Nimbus asked, coming across both as friendly while yet forceful in his question. "Just ah, just a local dispute that's been ongoing for far too long. Bad blood, and all that. Been a right nuisance." '-everypony in the office is sick and tired of their antics by now-', Jetson thought, which Prey took note of. "Well let's not stand around dilly-dallying then. You're here to be our guide, right?" Nimbus asked. "I ah, I can be, however-" "Splendid, let's get going then. Celestia's good sun is a-wasting. Although I'm not seeing much sun down here." Nimbus grinned, looking up at the grey, heavy looking sky, "But I can assure you, that no matter where or what, the sun is always shining above the clouds." 'Smooth. Indirectly demean everyone here born without wings, very smooth.' Prey bit back a snort. Not that it would've been heard, as a gull somewhere very nearby started up a wailing caw. Jetson didn't even seem to hear it, completely tuning the bird out: "That's ah, a positive outlook to have on life. Where would you like me to show you around first, Sargent ah, Nimbus Feather? And you too sir." He hastily added to Gloom and the ISND. '-wait wait, is that a-? By golly, what's a lamb doing with them?-' 'One minute and forty seconds to notice me. Not too awful by the standards of the average pony I have the misfortune of meeting.' Prey idly thought, smiling vacantly back up at the sooty stallion. Nimbus Feather didn't give Jetson long enough to begin forming a question. He and his three ponies were impatient to get stuck in. "Right then, I think you'd better show us all this property damage everypony was getting so worked up about, hadn't you?" Nimbus asked/ordered, while behind him Bravo, Inky, and Trail Blazer were practically wagging their tails. For all their other failings, you couldn't accuse the Border Rangers of not being keen. Jetson nodded, and then perked up and nodded more enthusiastically, "Ah, I can do that, and one better too. Please, if you'd all care to ah, just follow me? We can go see directly." Nimbus and his Border Rangers didn't even stop to consider, or glance back, just assumed the ISND would be right behind them as they marched off. And after a moment, but not without smothered annoyance, the three of them did, because they'd literally just pulled into the station, and didn't have any leads to start investigating yet. They left the cover of train station behind them, and descended the sloping streets of Haven Hay towards the bay. --- It wasn't a long trot. Fifteen minutes to get to the bottom of Haven Hay, and then another fifteen minutes weaving around the harbour and docks to their destination. But in that short time, Prey still learnt a lot about the port town and life living there. Seagulls were everywhere, and utterly unavoidable. They perched on every roof, squabbled over scraps or sometimes just nothing, and made a constant wailing racket. And a mess. Prey had been spot on in his prediction of bird droppings everywhere. He also saw how any exposed metal, which hadn't been religiously painted over to preserve it, was stained with orange and brown rust without exception. Another point was the constant rain and wet. Ten minutes in, those grey sheets of squall rain he'd seen obscuring the open sea from the top of the hill arrived at Haven Hay and blew over the town. It was a soft, cold, dripping kind of rain. Jetson didn't even slow, smoothly flipping up the hood of his raincoat and leading on. And sure enough, ten minutes later, the squall had passed, leaving a slick layer of wet over everything, but otherwise not disrupting town life in the least. Prey, Gloom and Crimson hadn't flinched from the cold rain as it plinked off their armour, or in Prey's case, pattered onto his wool. Their bags were waterproof, and they'd be fine. The temperatures weren't freezing, nor was it torrential, so there was no need to be concerned over a little rain. Droplets ran unheeded in small rivulets down Crimson's and Gloom's helmets, and dripped off the points of their crescent cheek guards. And Nimbus and the Border Rangers didn't make any fuss either. They marched into the squall and paid it no heed, despite getting their fur and feathers just as wet as the ISND. But of course, the Border Rangers actually had some experience with 'roughing it'. In its wake though, the squall left the weather just as grey and overcast as before. Evidently, a simple shower wasn't the property-damage-dealing storms they'd in part been sent out here to investigate. This was just rain, and from the looks of everyone getting on with their lives and work, they were completely used to this level of weather. Prey bet they could receive ten or even twenty such passing squalls in a day. What Prey also saw, were the signs of damage. No destroyed houses and piles of rubble, but lots of low key, widespread damage instead. Broken windows boarded up where shutters had been blown open with such force that they'd broken free. Gutters snapped and dangling free, trickling water. Missing tiles and bits of roofs visibly sagging in places. Bricks missing from the tops of garden walls and drains in the street sitting crooked where they'd been half lifted off by overflow. 'That's the property damage they were talking about.' Prey thought, making careful mental notes. As they reached the bottom of the hill and set hoof onto the first thick and weathered planks of the docks, the smell of salt and sea spray in the air grew much stronger. A scattering of ponies wearing battered raincoats were working in the area around the docks. Either carrying flat crates, rolling heavy barrels, or hauling on sodden lines, while around and behind them, the smaller moored sailing boats were, none two the exact same, bobbing and sloshing. The closest few workers turned to call greetings to Jetson, and did double takes on seeing the golden Royal Guards following, and then triple takes on spotting the ISND. "What's going on?" One of the braver ponies called, a peaked hat protecting his face from the rain. "Nothing's wrong, just ah, showing them the Boiling and the Breathless out on the point." Jetson shouted back. The point in question here meant the blocky lighthouse, out on the end of the leftmost harbour wall. You could only get up onto this wall by climbing up a set of concrete stairs only reachable from the docks. That, or by being able to fly. Again, not something Prey could do, although he wasn't alone for once in this, as neither could Jetson. Prey looked up the slick steps to the top of the harbour wall, and then traced the steps down to where they descended all the way into the sea below. Slimy seaweed and black barnacles studded the lower steps and wall of the harbour, showing where the water level would rise to with the tide. Looking down at the murky water nosily slapping into the wall with not inconsiderable force, splashing over the stone and sharp barnacles, Prey decided he very much did not want to fall in. He could imagine getting slammed over and over into the massive harbour wall and being slowly shredded to pulp on the vicious barnacles. So he was very careful with his footing as he climbed the wet stairs up onto the wall. The top of the harbour wall was pitted and windswept, and Prey widened his stance against any strong gusts of wind, even though the top of the wall was a good ten hooves across. "Come on, this way." Jetson said confidently, trotting along the wall top towards the lighthouse, not at all bothered by the waves splashing against the outside of the wall, much louder up here, and throwing fine sprays of salty water up to them. Prey also decided, as he followed along behind everyone in single file, that he also couldn't imagine willingly living in the lighthouse they were approaching. No matter how solid-looking the lighthouse was, the harbour wall top was the only path back to Haven Hay. Imagine trying to navigate that in a howling storm and roaring waves in the middle of the night? 'Definitely a healthy 'no thanks' from me.' Salty wind blew into Prey's ears, and he paused to squint out at the sea outside the harbour. It was even more uninviting and cold looking from up here, plumes of churned white breaking against the rocky cliffs. At points higher up these cliff faces, well out of the reach of the waves, the rocks were streaked with yet more gull droppings, the large birds wheeling around near the top. Those weren't the famous Cliffs of Dove though, not even close. Those anti-magic cliffs, and the Isle of Dove they surrounded, were at least an hour's hard trot further East. If it weren't for the poor weather, you'd almost certainly be able to see the shape of the mysterious isle from here on the harbour's wall. "Ah, here we are." Jetson announced. Prey turned his attention forwards again to find the lighthouse rising above them, the red paint of the stripes banding it noticeably scoured and faded this close up. The base of the harbour wall here swelled much wider to support the building, giving Prey a measure of comfort as it no longer felt like he was quite standing on a steep mountain peak, even if it was just him being paranoid. Jetson banged on the very solid and tightly sealed lighthouse's door as everyone crowded round. "Flash Light! Sandy Shine! Please let us in." Gloom loudly cleared his throat, "Who are Flash Light and Sandy Shine?" "They're the ah, lighthouse keepers. It is their job, and they also live here." Jetson replied. Bravo Call leaned sideways to peer past the corner of the lighthouse at the overcast horizon while they waited. '-the air is certainly bracing, but boy, that view is too dreary to wake up to everyday-' "And this Breathless and this Boiling you spoke of? What are those?" Gloom pressed, flicking off a drop of cold sea water from the fine spray which'd collected at the end of his wingclaw. "That's ah, those are what we're out here to see. From the top of the lighthouse. I assure you, it's the best way to see the view for yourself." Jetson hastily added to the end. Gloom fought the urge, but still couldn't stop himself from raising an eyebrow under his helmet. Nimbus coughed to cover an amused and condescending grin, thinking; '-obviously he doesn't have many pegasi friends, then-' Trail Blazer tried for nonchalance as he pointedly stretched his wings wide, before refolding them. He failed, but Jetson finally got the point. He blinked at the six out of seven winged Guards, then up at the lighthouse, and then at his own hooves. "Ah-" But before the sooty earth pony could apologise or make an excuse, the thick, porthole like door to the lighthouse unlocked with a noisy sliding of bolts and swung outwards. A grumpy looking unicorn with unkempt- almost all the way to shaggy, pale yellow fur greeted them. A unicorn, the first Prey had seen in Haven Hay. The pony naming conventions had hinted towards the two names Jetson had called being unicorns, and it made sense what with this being a lighthouse, but it still hadn't been a certain thing. Prey took a step to the left and put the Border Rangers between himself and the unicorn's horn. The unicorn's grumpy look hastily vanished as he saw all the armoured Guards behind Jetson, as he also just as hastily changed whatever it was he'd been about to say: "Er, Jetson. And sirs. I wasn't expecting anypony this morning." An unhappy look was flashed at Jetson for that, "I'm Flash Light, a lighthouse keeper. Sandy is still inside." "Who's at the door?" A hoarse voice yelled from inside the lighthouse before Jetson could explain who the Border Rangers and ISND were. The shaggy stallion winched, "It's uh, it's uh, its Royal Guards, honey." "What did you say?" The hoarse voice shouted again. Flash Light reluctantly raised his voice, "It's Royal Guards. They've come all the way to Haven Hay." From inside, much more quietly, Prey heard an "Oh." followed by sound of rushing hoofbeats on a staircase. Nimbus Feather didn't seem able to hold back any longer, and moved up to introduce himself and his trio, smiling broadly. The Staff Sargent just wasn't the type to let anyone else introduce himself. "Staff Sargent Nimbus Feather of Her Majesty's Royal Guard, and this here's my squad. We've just arrived, and Jetson here has been kindly giving us a tour of sorts of your town. It's got some great views, I'll give you that. Once we've gotten our bearings, we'll be solving your most recent weather problems, don't you worry." Flash Light opened his mouth, but a unicorn mare skidded around the corner of the door before he could, "Hello offic-sir? Officer? Thank you so much for coming. You're going to finally arrest the Heights family?" She asked in a breathless rush. "Yes honey, and put a stop to the infernal weather while they're at it." Flash Light happily answered her, and Jetson chimed in with a "Yep." '-a what now? What?-' A cold spray of sea water from a wave below crested the wall high enough to splash Prey's hooves. He exchanged a wordless look with Gloom which said many things, as droplets of salt water beaded across the metal of the Sargent's helmet and on the tufts of his ears. '-I think we've just stumbled upon our very first clue here-', Is what the look said. Because whatever Sandy and Flash Light here were talking about, it sounded like something the three of them should learn more about. Nimbus slightly backpedalled, not knowing what it was they were talking about, "One thing at a time, one thing at a time if you please. As Guards, we have a procedure to follow. Sir, Ma'am, we'll get to this... Heights family? In a moment. Jetson here though insisted that first we needed to see something." He said, buying them a minute. '-well this doesn't sound good-', Bravo thought, standing beside his Staff Sargent. Sandy Shine and Flash Light both visibly had to stifle automatic protests, as everything Nimbus had just said sounded very proper and Guard-like to them, and they were certainly not going to disagree with anything the golden clad figure of authority on their doorstep said. Nimbus and his fellows were very impressive, the sea water and rain doing nothing to dim the golden gleam of their renowned Royal Guard armour. So instead, they both turned their eyes on Jetson, wordlessly demanding; '-what have you been saying?-' Jetson felt the edge in their stares, even though he obviously didn't quite know why he was suddenly the target of ire. His ears laid back and his tone became defensive, "We needed the use of the lighthouse to get high enough to see." "We're not a ladder service." Flash Light shot at the earth pony out of the corner of his mouth, while trying to keep smiling for the Guards. "Ah, yes, well, but then you wouldn't get to speak to them about the Weather Tower keepers, would you?" Jetson shot back, trying to keep up a smile to show that they weren't arguing, that they were all good friends here. Sandy Shine was busy copying his strategy, also trying to smile at everyone. Her eyes widened comically as they fell on Gloom and Crimson in their much less friendly Night Guard armour standing in the back, and she very openly stared. '-I hate it when we get stuck playing piggy in the middle-', Inky thought with a frustrated eye roll to Trail Blazer and Bravo, as Nimbus Feather smiled his brilliant white smile and moved in to get everything straightened out while the gulls screeched and the wind blew. Prey signalled Gloom that he had something to say, and Crimson leaned in to listen too, ignoring the minor drama happening on the lighthouse's doorstep, "Remember, we're not here to work with them. We can split off at any time and get on with doing our own job." He reminded them both in a low voice over the rolling of the waves. "Sir, what is the plan if the Border Rangers are getting in our way?" Crimson asked quite bluntly, watching Jetson, Sandy, and Flash Light apologise to Nimbus in turns for taking up their time, while still trying to throw verbal jabs at each other. "First and foremost, we're here to investigate if the weather damage caused here is the work of a pony. By the sound of it, this Height family are the ones running the weather Tower outside of town unless I miss my guess. And it doesn't sound like anypony likes them very much, so they're probably doing a poor job of it." Gloom shared his thoughts quietly. "Or everyone here could not have the slightest idea of what they're talking about and are simply blaming the Weather Tower." Prey pointed out. "Everypony." Gloom corrected on instinct, "And that's the point. We're not taking anypony's word for anything. We'll find the truth for ourselves." "And do we need Sargent Nimbus for that?" Crimson asked the important question. "Right now, I mean." Gloom considered, "I think yes. We've only just arrived here. We'll let Jetson show us whatever it is that he thinks is important, then we'll go find the mayor and the sheriff and get this investigation properly started." "Any idea what this Breathless and this Boiling that he wanted to show us so badly are?" Prey muttered, hiking the straps of his backpack higher and jerking his head towards Jetson. "Yes, but it looks like we're finally going to find out for sure." Gloom answered as in front of them, Sandy led the way into the lighthouse, alternating between anxiously inviting the Royal Guards inside, and staring at the three out of place ISND members, who everyone else seemed to have half forgotten about. Indeed, Flash Light nearly swung the heavy lighthouse door shut with his aura before Crimson stuck an unmoving hoof in the way. The shaggy unicorn's pale face reddened quite remarkably, and backed up, haltingly inviting them in. After that incident of mortification, and smothered laughter from the Border Rangers was over with, they all trooped up the lighthouse's stairs to the roof three stories above. --- "Tell me more about this Heights family you mentioned." Prey heard Gloom ask the nervous Sandy from behind him, the wind buffeting them up here nearly tugging Gloom's words away, "And please try to only include facts, not speculation." Prey listened in, but he was much more interested in looking out on what lay in front of him. There were three things Jetson had wanted to bring them up here to the balcony atop the lighthouse to show them. And while everybody else could've just taken to the air to see, Prey decided seeing for himself was worth having to bear the company of ponies on this one. Crimson and Gloom excluded, of course. The Boiling that Jetson had mentioned earlier was actually the local abbreviation for the full name of the Boiling Bay. And the Breathless referred to the Breathless Sea. The third thing didn't have a nicely descriptive nickname like that. It was only possible from standing up here, or perhaps on the cliffs, to get a good sense of the geography and unbridled scope it all encompassed. 'Is geography the right term when it's the ocean? Whatever, it doesn't matter.' Prey shielded his eyes against the billowing salty wind, and studied first the Boiling Bay. Spreading out from beyond the relative calm and safety provided by the harbour walls, the sea was a veritable cauldron. One that was roiling like it was boiling, hence the name. The visuals were caused by waves and swells which didn't just flow in and out in one direction, but in every direction, white crested waves of dark water bashing into each other all the time. This strange effect in the Boiling Bay was because of where it ran up against the Breathless Sea. The cause of this wasn't readily apparent from the surface, but where one met the other, the slight lightening of shade in the dark, violent waters gave Prey the clue. The Breathless Sea was over a higher ocean shelf, rather than the plunging depths of the Boiling Bay next to it. 'The sea deep in the Boiling Bay hits the wall of the ocean shelf, probably miles down, and is then forced rapidly upwards. That's what's causing all the violent, upwelling currents.' Directly outside of Haven Hay's harbour was the vast cauldron of deep, turbulent sea. But to the left was the shallower Breathless Sea, which stretched on and on until Prey couldn't see any further in grey sky and mist. There was a line between the two, about thirty meters broad. A change in the pitch of the water that divided the sea, on the one side the violent boiling, and then over the course of those thirty meters, calmed into an endless sheet of gentle, waveless lapping. A stark and startling contrast. As an aside, if you were to trek further east along the cliffs following the coast of the Breathless Sea, Prey knew you'd come across first the Weather Tower, and then even further on, the Cliffs of Dove bringing your trip to an abrupt end. And further still beyond that divide, would be the uninhabited and mysterious Isle of Dove. The Boiling Bay was the first site of importance, a testament to nature's untamed savagery. The Breathless Sea was the second, a glimpse at the true enormity of the ocean. And the third important sight that Prey squinted at as he stood up here on the lighthouse, braced against the wind, was the towering, massive storm-bank gathered not far off the coast, casting the waters of the Breathless Sea below it in perpetual eerie shadow. 'A warning of the violence nature can and will unleash.' Behind him, Prey heard Sandy Shine answering Gloom; "The Heights are the featherbrains responsible for letting that build up." Prey didn't turn, but he assumed she was pointing at the ominous, towering storm sitting unmovingly out there above the Breathless Sea. Prey studied the storm, but really, 'study' was the wrong word. He beheld the vast, towering clouds, a dark, silent mix of titanic cloud peaks, the literal size of mountains, and all combined into one huge mountain range floating up there. The four gold wearing Royal Guards were also staring out at the distant storm titan, not looking so perpetually cocky anymore. '-that's a lot more than I was expecting-' Prey let himself slowly take it all in. The Breathless Sea to the east of the Boiling Bay marked the end of any and all shipping/sailing routes. However to the west of it, or north-west if you wanted to be exact, the deep sea current flowed along the coast here until it too terminated in the Boiling Bay, and there laid the sailing route. Haven Hay was built right on this, the furthest point of land, making it an excellent spot for a port town. It was too bad there was so little here to be worth sailing for. The recent storms and dangerous weather had obviously cut those chances down even further. Despite that, Prey could actually see the blurry outline of some ship hugging the coast coming up from the west, partly obscured by more squalls and grey weather. But that wasn't important, it was everything to the east which held Prey's attention. Sandy was still going on to Gloom, wanting to get her 'testimony' heard as soon as possible. "I went all the way up to the Weather Tower myself, had to climb all the way there and back, and you know what they said? What they keep telling everypony? Even to sheriff Lumber? That they're "dealing with it". That was two weeks ago, and now look. It's still there! Nearly every other day, another storm hits us as it passes over, and then joins that giant lightning bundle waiting to happen out there. They're not doing anything, or whatever they're doing, they're not doing it right." The unicorn mare's voice was raw with weeks of frustration which had morphed into anger. Anger that was in all likelihood, being echoed by every resident in Haven Hay. It could only be so long before they were sick and tired of having their homes and livelihoods damaged, and decided to take matters into their own hooves by forming a mob to deal with the 'problem' as they saw it. That problem being, the ineffectual weather team staffing the Weather Tower. Sandy's husband Flash Light, as it had been confirmed that they were actually married, joined in, unable to help himself, "The boats can't leave, nopony can do anything because they can't harvest with that storm right overhead, and that family keeps shrugging off all responsibility. It's negligence of duty, it has to be. Everypony who's tried to talk to them just gets brushed off and nothing gets fixed." "Harvest what?" Prey heard Crimson ask over the constant wind. Prey tilted his head back, ribbon whipping against his cheek, as he felt the first spatters of cold rain strike him from above. Yep, it looked like the next grey formless cloud in a sky of dark grey clouds had decided to release its payload as it blew across Haven Hay. Not that the gulls seemed to mind, they kept wheeling and cawing as loudly as ever. Looking back and down to the wooden docks inside the harbour, Prey could see the same figures of ponies they'd passed on their way to the stairs not pausing in their work either. "What do you mean harvest-? Oh, right. Harvesting from the kelp fields, of course." Sandy Shine answered Crimson. Prey didn't like her impatience when speaking to his friend, even if she almost immediately tried to smother it out of apprehension of who she was talking to. It wasn't his fault they weren't locals and didn't immediately know the slang everyone here used. "You harvest kelp?" Crimson asked slowly, waiting for her or Flash Light to further explain. "Yes, the kelp beds. Not that they're growing at the moment, they need the sun just like any plant, and there's no sun with that storm blocking out the sky every single day. It grows up from the Breathless Sea. You need to row into it and back out once you leave the Boiling, but we harvest the kelp floating on the surface. Except the boats can't even go out to do that anymore now, can they?" Jetson also couldn't help but join in with his own rant, his frustration overcoming his aversion to Gloom and Crimson's appearances in the hopes that they, as Guards, would solve Haven Hay's problems. "Everything's gone to pot. Three ships that were scheduled to come in for repairs have ah, cancelled and turned back. Three! Ponies’ jobs are being affected, and the ah, the ah, the damage to the town! It keeps happening every time a storm comes. My roof leaks constantly by the bucket, upstairs is destroyed, but there's no point getting it fixed if it’s just going to happen again tomorrow." Prey listened to the problems of Haven Hay being voiced behind him, and didn't care. Really he didn't. He was only here because Nighthawk had seen fit to send them. The ISND was only here until they could find any evidence of any wrongdoing, and then arrest the culprit. And at the end of the day, these were only ponies complaining about nature being unfair. If you believed the townsfolk, then by the sound of it the Weather Tower pegasi were the wrongdoers here. Prey didn't believe them. There are always two sides to every story, and this looked to him more like a Weather Team simply not being able to tame mother nature this time around, the storm being too vast, and now all the townsfolk were throwing a hissy fit. But looking out at the veritable mountain range of slowly swirling storm clouds in the distance, he could well understand their worry at least. And it had been growing bigger for two weeks? 'If that thing breaks while we're still here, I'm insisting that we get out of Haven Hay and find cover up in the hills.' Prey thought. "We've got our work cut out for us." Nimbus said, sucking in air over his pearly white teeth in that hissing inhale that meant the person doing it had a monumental task ahead of them. Bravo wiped some rainwater from the brim of his helmet before it could drip onto his face, not looking away from the grim view, "That we do sir, that we do." '-I wouldn't bet on us dispersing that thing even if there were ten times as many of us-', Trail Blazer was meanwhile thinking, a deep grimace marring his usually carefree grin. Inky was rubbing at her chin, staring hard out at the massive storm sitting over the sea, as if she stared hard enough, some hidden secret would suddenly become clear. She was drawing a blank, too. '-I've got nothing. Just nothing-' 'Of course you don't have anything. Bunch of Zoma’Grika fools, the lot of you. That storm sitting out there has the potential to be a full blown natural disaster.' Prey thought, snorting. You couldn't beat nature. The only question was, where would the storm finally break? Over the Breathless Sea right where it was would be the best outcome they could hope for now. Since it had been sitting there building for a fortnight, it was probably pointless to hope that it would suddenly blow further east or even out to sea. "The lightning that things gonna' to unleash when it pops is going to be celestial." Nimbus muttered to his colleagues. "Please Gloom sir, you have to do something about the Weather Tower. Arrest them, make them put a stop to this. Sheriff Lumber will be only too happy to help." Sandy was trying to urge Gloom over the cawing of a flock of passing seagulls. "They've been suspicious ever since they first arrived. Not that there's any ah, solid proof, but you can ask anypony. I don't put much stock in superstition, but I've simply always had a bad feeling about them." Jetson added his own testimony. "We will investigate all parties involved. I will base any actions I take on the proof we find." Gloom assured, and also warned them. "We don't like lies." Crimson agreed evenly. The audience missed his unvoiced warning in there. "Good," Flash Light stated with surprising viciousness, "Then Gale Heights will be behind bars the next time I have to see his face." That sounded like there was something personal there. '-all the more reason to get the other side of the story first-', Gloom decided as a strong gust of wind buffeted them. Prey turned his head away, not so much because of the wind, but because of the stray raindrops hurled in it. The wind moaned around the lighthouse, and sounded like snatches of faint, distant shouts or screams. "Wait, hold up. What was that?" Nimbus demanded, turning to the three pony residents of Haven Hay. Jetson blinked, broken from addressing Gloom, "Ah, sorry what?" "What was what?" Flash Light mimicked. "Did you not hear that?" "Oh, that's just the wind from the Wailing Crag, don't worry." Sandy answered as she drew the connection. She pointed out to the distant barren rocky spur out to sea that Prey had noted earlier. "There's quite a few local ghost stories about the Wailing Crag being haunted, the foals come up with new twists to it every year, but it’s just the wind. Me and Sandy have to listen to it the most out here." Flash Light explained, gesturing over the edge and down to the harbour's wall the lighthouse was built on below. The blocky, red and white building was indeed the farthest out structure by quite some way in all of Haven Hay, and so was closest, relatively speaking, to the Wailing Crag. Prey would've taken any bet that Trail Blazer might've placed about there being probably a hundred such 'Wailing Crags' dotted about the coasts of Equestria. It was one of those unimaginative stories that seemed to be part of every long term community out there whenever something natural, like an inland wind hitting a lone spur of eroded rock out at sea, produced a result which might be considered 'spooky'. "Oh wonderful, here comes another storm cloud." Inky griped. And indeed there was, an angry black storm head rolling up from the west, over the sea. It was only as it had come closer that you could really differentiate it against the rest of the dark grey and clouds as being a separate storm cloud. It was trailing in the wake of that distant ship that was slowly clawing its way up the coastline towards the bay, almost like the black cloud was getting pulled along on some huge leash. The captain of the ship, whoever they were, was keeping just ahead of the following storm. 'Or maybe, they're running from the storm.' Prey's ear twitched, and he skipped smartly to the side and out of any hoof reach as Flash Light turned away from trying to persuade Gloom and Crimson and stepped up to the railing. He frowned out at the storm, shaggy brows drawing together. '-they're cutting it a bit too close. Didn't the captain get the warning?-' Not the storm then, but rather the ship was at fault it seemed. Flash Light's horn light up pale yellow, and he drew a small collapsible telescope from inside his coat, clicking it open. Prey watched him as he peered out for a long minute at the distant ship and storm through the scope, long fur flattening and shifting in odd patterns in the strong wind. He scowl was getting deeper and more worried. "Flash Light?" Sandy called, sensing something amiss with her husband. "I'm not sure..." Flash Light began. "What?" Sandy asked, everyone else crowded on the lighthouse's top starting to take notice too. "I'm not sure..." He repeated, "But why're they only sailing at half-mast?" Wordlessly, Sandy demanded the small telescope from her husband and looked for herself. Down in the distance, the storm continued to approach with the ship keeping just ahead. Gulls cawed. The wind wailed distantly. '-the mizzen and the boom, they shouldn't be facing that way-', Sandy thought. '-and they're sitting too low in the water-' "Horseapples." She loudly announced, voice flat with shock, "They're slowly sinking. And that storm is going to catch up and blow them into the cliffs." There was a moment as everyone else processed those words and tried to comprehend the bad news, a moment which Prey took to hastily scoot back over to Gloom and Crimson's side. Everything happened very quickly after that. "Get down to the harbour!" "Border Rangers, form on me." "Have to warn the harbour master immediately." "The chasing storm, we've got to get them out of there!" "It's sinking, they won't make it in time." "Sargent Nimbus, where are you going?" "To help the ponies on that ship of course!" "You can drive the chasing storm off?" "Or just delay it, either will be good enough." "The ship is sinking! It might not even reach the harbour!" "Then get boats in the water already! Get ponies out there, get them moving." "What if we're not in time-?" "Then we'll fly them all off the boat, one at a time if we have to! Stop asking stupid questions." "Let's go, Go, GO!" ---I--- The details change, but you never forget what it's like to survive through the disasters.