//------------------------------// // VII – The Warning // Story: From the West They Came // by Not That Anon //------------------------------// “Long Vigil, quick, come to the main deck!” The mare who grabbed the edge of my coat as soon as I left Midnight’s room was terrified. Her quick but uneven steps revealed that she was one of the soldiers who served in the army prior to our mission – the sailors had long since gotten used to the swaying floors. Dark circles under her eyes told of sleepless nights on the ship. I adapted to the new environment quickly; many soldiers weren’t so lucky. “That fool, Rickety Board, tried fishing in the ocean,” she added. “What was he trying to catch?” I asked, struggling to make sense of the situation so early in the morning. “Fish, what else?” the mare replied. “We’re not blind, officer. We know that our food rations are dwindling and that the ship has been slowing down with no land in sight. We’re lost and soon we’ll be hungry, too. He promised to prepare the fish to make it edible.” “What went wrong?” “See for yourself,” she said, pointing her wing at the group of sailors who gathered in a semicircle on the main deck. Their attention was drawn towards the sea creature laying on the planks. It was hardly a fish; its body had the shape of an overgrown cucumber totaling roughly a meter in length, with two symmetric rows of spine-like fins on the opposite sides of the animal. A large protruding eye was located on one of its ends, gawking at the sailors with malicious intelligence. It wriggled, letting out a sound not unlike the rattling of chains. Some of the more levelheaded batponies reached out for the anti-boarding spears hidden beneath a couple loose planks. The creature’s wails changed in pitch and frequency until they resembled pony language. Its voice was rough and its pronunciations drawn out, but the way the words were intoned was unlike any Equestrian language that I know. The sailors leaned in closer, greedily listening to what the alien creature had to say. “Sea Worthy,” it began, stunning us with the deep regret that could be heard in its voice. As the last syllable of our captain’s name echoed over the sea, Sawbones barged onto the deck, his disheveled gray hair proving that I wasn’t the only who overslept today. “Moon Shine,” the creature sang with an even greater sadness, bringing some of the batponies to the verge of tears. Sawbones galloped towards the sailors and the creature. He tried to pick it up with his wings but the “eye” blinked and suddenly opened itself to reveal rows and rows of sharp teeth hidden in its retina. The surgeon flinched, though he kept his composure and kicked the monster off the deck. Flying through the air, the creature uttered half of Midnight’s name with a newfound hatred but sank before it could finish. Not wasting any time, Sawbones grabbed the makeshift fishing rod and flung it into the waves. Everypony else was too shocked by the old stallion’s actions to do anything. “It was a siren, you idiots!” he angrily spat out. “But I see you’d rather let us get killed than do anything to stop it!” Nopony else said a word. “I heard ‘Moon Shine’ but did it call anypony else by name? Did it, Luna save us, say anything about our ship’s fate?” Sawbones looked at the confusion painted on our faces and sighed with relief. “We’re lucky at least one pony thought about waking me up.” He squinted his eyes. “These creatures put terrible curses on their prey and then feed on shipwrecks or individual unlucky sailors.” “What about Moon Shine?” asked one of the mares in the crowd. “We can’t do anything for him,” Sawbones pursed his lips. “But he’s still locked in the galley, maybe that will protect him from the worst of it.” The surgeon disappeared below the deck. I ordered everypony back to work and headed to my cabin. The mare who ran into me earlier today was right; our situation was starting to become desperate. We had maybe a few days until the last barrels of food would run out, leaving us to starve in the middle of the sea. I opened the doors to my room trying to forget that possibility. Right or wrong, thinking about the coming doom would do us no good. As I expected, Midnight was in a good mood. Hoof-written notes and old encyclopedias were strewn across the floor, the bat unicorn occasionally taking a look at one of the pages. She nodded with a smile and resumed scribbling something in her notebook. “You’re late,” she said. “Some fool tried fishing in the ocean. He caught a siren and almost got us all killed.” I summarized the scene that I witnessed earlier. Midnight laughed. “You really bought into Sawbones’s superstitions?” “Normally I wouldn’t have,” I replied, “but I heard that creature speak, or rather sing, in ponish.” “To me it sounds like the poor fish was desperately trying to breathe and you heard what you wanted to hear.” Midnight finished writing and levitated one of the piles of pages to the exit of the cabin. The first one was titled THERE ARE NO WAYS LEADING WESTin capital crimson letters. I raised a brow. “That’s the first of the runes,” explained Midnight. “They’re all a part of the same source text. Translating them became almost trivial once I saw the connection!” This was not the reaction I expected. “Why are you so cheerful about it?” I asked. “That is terrible news!” “It’s not!” She flipped through the numerous pages, revealing detailed navigational instructions. “This is some kind of a map. If we follow the directions that you’ve drawn on the walls here, we will arrive at the farthest west without ever sailing that way.” “Right.” Surely she must’ve seen the contradiction. “Tell me, how exactly is this any different from what you earlier called ‘Sawbones’s superstitions’?” “There’s nothing superstitious about this,” she fired back. “That old surgeon relies on old mares’ tales and hearsay; we have actual proof. Or are you implying that your eyes are shining with some otherworldly light on a regular basis?” She had a point. If there was ever a moment to reconsider not continuing Midnight’s research, we already passed it. I could no longer deny that the dreams I had were but a glimpse of something greater and that it was my duty to see this through to the end. “Could you take these to Sea Worthy?” Midnight asked. “Convince her to follow the instructions, it’s the only chance we have. I’m not quite finished with the rest of the translations but that first stack should suffice for now.” I picked up the thick pile of pages waiting near the exit. “And what if Sea Worthy decides to disregard this advice?” “She’s a reasonable mare, most of the time.” An eye twitch and a slightest hint of worry in her voice that she failed to conceal revealed that she hadn’t considered this possibility. “I’m sure she will understand how important this is.” Hollow laughter filled the room. “Sea Worthy ever listening to advice?” I said, “We’ve just been talking about sirens and Light-filled dreams but somehow you’ve managed to save the most improbable joke for last.” “We have to try,” she said in a strangely dejected tone devoid of her usual smugness. “Good luck.”