Twilight Sparkle was asked in her throne-room about the history of the world and said simply that friendship is magic, and the spirits of the elements of harmony are what cause it to grow. She said the laughter, kindness, honesty, generosity, and loyalty between friends underpinned the foundations of harmony and that the Equis Creature Coalition was founded to extend that harmony throughout creation. She launched into a long discussion of the Tower of Harmony Project and Far Seer never got her back on track to continue the original thread of the conversation.
—Pena “On the Origins of Ponies*(*and Others) and Magic”
Mish Mash set the newspapers down neatly folded to the front page on his majesty’s breakfast table. Iron Hoof gestured for the majordomo to join him. The paper had a picture of the refitted Sea Cow, now renamed the Manatee on the cover. It had a great big round thing at its rear.
“Your majesty, they are calling it The Great Race. The navy claims their fastest ship will be setting out in the morning. Perfect Storm claims the Manatee is the fastest modern ship ever. Four sails, a crew of 200 with and 300 marines. The admiral has selected his nephew Lieutenant Close Shave as his candidate for succession. He claims close hauled they can make a good 6 knots and they have a secret weapon to cut the sailing time dramatically.”
“Yes, that diamond dog contraption. Burns coal. Stinks to high heaven. Breaks down constantly. Catches fire. Stirs up muck and flings it everywhere.”
“Well, the Skyforce claims they have a secret weapon too. Their new quadruple balloon has one of those contraptions too.”
“Yes, the prototype. The dogs let that go for nothing. Apparently taking it home was cost prohibitive.”
“How’d they get the big one here?” The major domo asked, his bushy mustache spilling crumbs onto his other newspaper.
“They didn’t. We let them use our iron, forges and labor and they gave us the plans. It’s a stupid design. I have Bullpen working on a better one. We have better ones in the archives.”
“And the ground pounders?”
The king laughed. “They claim they’re going to run it!”
“That’s impossible. It's over 3000 canters by ground, 4800 kilo lengths! All of the old maps show at least four of five rivers and bodies of water.”
“Well, the closest ones have fords or ferries and once you get above Zebrabwe if you hug the mountains you can walk to Canterlot on the northwest side and never cross a river.”
“He also hasn’t announced his candidate. Keeping it close to his chest I guess?”
“Maybe he doesn’t have a favorite. Chop-Chop was always apolitical. Maybe he’ll award it to the first runner to get back.
“Ha! That sounds like him.”
“Well, they are taking one hundred fifty-two wheeled rickshaws and 500 bulls.” The king sipped his coffee. “They claim they can do 50 canters or better in a day. And if they can, they can be there in 60 days and back again before the year is out. Chop-chop is going to leave the slowest behind as he goes. Claims he might be there in half that time.
“The wind will shift by then.”
“Well of course it will, but you forget your majesty. The navy still must get back. If you’d declared this a few months ago, the Royal Navy would win no contest. Take the trade winds both ways. But now? It's anybody’s race. Well except for the Skyforce. The technology just isn’t there yet.”
“I don’t know. Ferdinand is resourceful. Second Wind is giving him gold rings like they are candy. They might surprise us.”
“It's a long shot though. He picked little Foreman as his candidate.”
“My distaff nephew? Is he trying to suck up to me?”
“I doubt it sir. He genuinely believes the little scamp is as smart as he thinks he is.”
“Oh, he’s smart. His feet aren’t on the ground is his problem. He’d make a terrible king. The rival candidates would have him killed before the year was out.”
“Shall we go to the docks tomorrow to wish the navy a fond farewell?”
“You know what Mish Mash; I think we shall.”