//------------------------------// // I've Gone Fishing! // Story: Eden Fire // by Sharman Pierce //------------------------------// Nebula found him hours later. The bucket of paint sloshed in time to the waves, and the brush and rag had dried under the beating sun. Cold Snap sat half in the shade and half out of it, heedless of the sun beating down on him. His eyes focused somewhere on the horizon of another world. Snap felt his friend sit beside him, but couldn’t bring himself to say anything. A powerful thirst raged in his throat, but he couldn’t care enough to go find his water ration. Death was coming for him. “You look terrible. Can you tell me where Cold Snap is?” “Cursed.” It was the only thing that could survive his dark mood. He sat sweating in the hot sun and trying to think of nothing at all. He didn’t care about his work or the punishment that could come with it. “So what about it?” his friend pressed. Nebula hated seeing his best friend like this. They had grown up together, to the point that they were almost family. They had been through thick and thin together and more than a few idiotic scrapes. To see somepony normally so chipper and levelheaded beaten down like this made him hurt in a way he never imagined. He tried different avenues to open up his friend. He made small talk, asked about those technical things he liked reading so much about, and even a bit of grating humor that only long-time friends could get away with. None of it made a difference. Cold Snap lay senseless to everything outside of his own misery. Conversations went nowhere and everything else went ignored. Nebula’s ears folded back. Maybe this was a funk that his friend had to find his own way out. He turned away to finish his own duties. Then a grin split his face. Cold Snap watched the deep blue waves ripple in the distance. It was soothing. It was something he could lose himself in and just forget all his problems in their hypnotic show. Oh, how he wished that his problems went away like that. He could almost see the burning-but-not-burning trees now. Every time he tried to sleep or even close his eyes, he saw them. They hid behind the waves, ready to torment him as soon as he started feeling better. He couldn’t get any peace. Some suffocated part of his mind understood this was being blown way out of proportion by total exhaustion and a self-destructive streak he never realized he had, but to acknowledge that meant to put in some effort to climb out of his misery. Cursed or not, he couldn’t keep this up forever, could he? He even ignored his own friend as he tried to cheer him up. While he’d been in some depressing places as he experienced the trials of growing older, Nebula was always a rock in uncertainty. He could think clearly even in the middle of a struggle. He needed that now more than ever. So why was he afraid to ask? His eyes wandered down to the deck. Perhaps he could ask why there was a rope tied around his leg? “Sorry, Snap.” Snap looked over in time to see Nebula slam his hoof on a metal lever, and then the world went topsy-turvy. Pain burned through his leg and everything it was attached to. Any harder, and he would’ve thought it was one of those “amputations” the surgeon mentioned. His stomach spun as he desperately grabbed at the slick deck to stop his climb. Nothing worked. Where he had once moped in a sideways view of the sea, he now got a birds-eye view. About the time that he got his head used to seeing upside down, something else clicked, and the next thing he felt was a disconcerting weightlessness and that birds-eye view becoming a fish-eye view. It should have been soft. Water moved. It flowed. It passed over his body whenever he swam. So why did it feel like slamming into a rock!? Any air Snap might have held onto was violently hammered out of him. He spun uncontrollably. His only clues for “up” and “down” were light, and they were meaningless when he was rolling like a ball. Suddenly his leg jerked again, and he felt the water trying to pull him apart as he was dragged behind the unstoppable ship. Water forced itself into every cavity he had. He could even hear the ship’s powerful screws pulsing through the water. Nebula was trying to kill him! He desperately struggled away from the sound and reached for the rope. Even his immense strength couldn’t overcome the force of the water. He was towed along like bait on a hook. Then the force doubled, and Snap thought the rope was about to break. He thumped against the hull. Half his body had to be bruised in that hit. He skidded over flush rivets and plate seams. Then before he could drown, he broke surface. He coughed and retched so much water. Wild energy had completely beaten away his lethargy. And he was ready to make somepony pay. He spun on his rope, hanging quite a ways away by the ship’s loading hoist. Nebula leaned against the winch with a small crowd of gaping onlookers helplessly watching. “So, feeling better now?” ___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ “I swear I’m going to kill you.” That was supposed to be threatening, but wheezing out seawater every second word completely wrecked that idea. Nebula wasn’t even slightly impressed. He leaned against the bow turret with an inscrutable glare. The best Cold Snap could do was return the glare and shove as much animal savagery into it as he could. Given that he looked like a drowned kitten, he didn’t have much of that to spare. “You know, that’s the most heartwarming thing you’ve said for days. I’ll treasure this always,” Nebula held a hoof over his chest and held in false sobs. Coughing would have to substitute for beating his friend’s head in with a board. Just how much water could he hold in him? His friend’s eyes softened. He slouched against the heavy steel. Once or twice, his jaw clenched until he finally could force the words out. “Snap. I know you’re mad at me. I’d be too if someone turned me into fishbait.” Cold Snap snorted at the joke and how funny his friend sounded now that his ears were all full of water. “But what about me?” the unicorn looked absolutely pitiful. “You weren’t there. I barely saw you for days, and you never saw me. You were miserable and wouldn’t let me help you.” Showing speed he never had at home, Nebula had his hooves around his friend’s head and shook him like a dog. “Wouldn’t let ME help!” He stopped. “Everything. We’ve been through everything together. So when you’re hurting, let me help you! It was stupid. Probably could have killed you, but I had to do something.” “Well, you can help me get the water out of my ears,” Snap grumped. Nevertheless, he felt a smile for the first time in days. This was how they were supposed to be on this trip: two best friends having an adventure together. One thing was certain. This would be a tale to tell their foals about. If they lived that long. And like that, the cloud was back over Snap’s life. This was an adventure. It just came with a few caveats. He saw Nebula move. “Stay away from that winch!” His friend jerked his hoof away from the loading winch and grinned sheepishly. “Ummm. You had the look.” Snap grunted. “You would too if you were cursed.” The unicorn moved to join Snap in the shade. “I’ve been thinking about that. Actually, it was all I could think about for what? Four days? Four days while somepony I thought was my best fri”- “Yeah, yeah. Shut it. What were you thinking about?” Snap waved a hoof. Nebula settled back against the metal. In the shade, the large mass was pleasantly warm instead of scorching under the sun. The two friends relaxed as they thought through their perspectives. Nebula shuffled and took deep breaths. He obviously wanted to say something he thought important but wasn’t sure how to go about it. Eventually, Snap couldn’t take it anymore. “The curse?” he prodded. “Yeah…” Nebula trailed off. “What kind of curse is it?” Snap felt like someone beamed him with a brick and the crate it came in. “Umm, the cursed kind?” “The cursed curse?” “Exactly.” “I don’t get it.” Snap rolled onto his side and then yelped. He scrambled away from the hot metal and back into the shade. “Look, I play with an artifact of an unknown culture, accidentally perform taboo blood magic on it, and now it keeps a good time on my ticker. How much more cursed can it get?” Nebula bobbed his head around as if all his thinking took place to a tune stuck in his own mind. Somehow it worked because all his best thoughts came when he was like this. “Not trying to wash this under the ship, but that sounds like a pretty lame curse. Does it do ANYTHING else?” “It gives me recurring apocalyptic dreams and doesn’t let me sleep.” “Huh, that’s a slightly better curse.” “Are we really ranking curses?!” “We have to start somewhere.” Cold Snap seethed and contented himself with that much against his always-loyal and sometimes-aggravating friend. “So, does it?” Nebula asked. “Does it what?” Nebula made a noise halfway between a snort and a grunt. “You know. Does it feel like a leech slurping your life away through a sympathetic blood bond?” “Sympathetic?” Nebula waved a hoof. “Old school of magic. Slightly outdated. So does it?” Snap’s snarky retort fizzled as he for the first time in four days seriously considered his situation. The ship bobbed and rumbled. The winds blew, but beyond that, it was totally silent between the two friends. Snap tried to recall everything he could, how he felt, what he thought, and what had happened to him over the last few days. “Actually, no?” “Oh, some good news for a change. So it must be slurping your soul away. I bet it comes back for a refund.” Cold Snap chucked the ruined paintbrush at his friend. Nebula was never the best at dodging, but he sure could yelp. And he looked so stupid with that sticky brush hanging off his hair. “Not that either. It’s different. I’m different. Something’s different, but it’s not like I’m hurting or feel like I’ve lost something important. Whatever it is though, I think those trees are important to it. Sorry I can’t be more specific than that. This curse didn’t come with instructions.” Nebula raised an eyebrow. “Trees are important to it? It has thoughts now? Opinions and preferences?” His friend knew how to prod him just right. “I dunno! That’s my thought. Maybe I’m the one cursing the thing! How do you like that theory?” “You get the weirdest curses.” Before Snap could reply, the decking thudded nearby. Simultaneously, the two friends looked up in time to see Mr. Horn making a mad dash across the ship to the stairs up to the wheelhouse.” “I remembered. Gotta tell him. Rememberedgottatellhim,” the hippogriff wheezed as he ran. Then he took the exterior stairs two at a time and rushed into the command nexus of the ship and out of sight. That left the two ponies staring at the almost-closed door in bafflement. What got Mr. Horn so fired up about all this? Nebula looked at Cold Snap. “So, table this review of curses for a later date?” Snap snorted and shook off the water. “I guess. Let’s see what lit his tail on fire.” He wasn’t feeling better about his own curse, but if it hadn’t killed him yet, then he had a little more time. Besides, with a friend like Nebula, he could handle most anything. Of course, with a friend like Nebula, who needed curses? The two chased after the hippogriff and barged into the wheelhouse. The entire crew focused on them and without a single word, five of them pointed to the door heading into the main stairwell. “Um, thanks. Don’t mind us! Keep doing...ship things,” Nebula chuckled as he dragged Snap behind him. The two entered the main interior stairwell. Up or down? Down took them into the dark heart of the ship where the mechanics and cooks and everyone else it took to run a ship lived. When Mr. Horn said “him”, there was really only one “him” he could mean. He didn’t live in the bowels of a steel beast. The two rushed up the stairs. This hallway and door were very familiar by now to Cold Snap. He’d grown used to seeing the carved field of flowers on the captain’s stateroom. He’d actually stopped studying it a while back. It was just a small specimen among many more aboard Captain Gideon’s incredible vessel. Contrary to habit, the captain’s door was open slightly, and the two could hear raised voices. Mr. Horn and Captain Gideon did not see eye to eye on a number of things, but like civilized creatures, they could put aside their differences in the pursuit of a common goal. This must have been one of those times. “Captain, it’s one of his letters,” the hippogriff wheezed. “Your patron’s letters? I thought you didn’t recall them in any detail.” Cold Snap couldn’t stand hovering outside the door and moved to open it, but a sharp jerk on his tail stopped him. Nebula shook his head vigorously and flicked his ears. His silent message was clear. Snap scooted close to the door and managed to get a peek through the crack. The captain was in his usual spot behind his desk, partway through some project or another. He could see the box and the ruby crystal still in the twine that once bound it to the box. Mr. Horn stood a deferential distance away and kneaded the carpet in his claws as he put his thoughts together. “We never spoke of anything you or I would consider important. It was all basic progress updates. The patron never told me anything regarding the nature of my delivery and it was not my place to ask. It was a little thing though. He said a phrase I hadn’t heard before and didn’t make much sense to me. Now he had the captain’s attention. “What context was this in?” “That’s the darnedest thing. I don’t know what context it was supposed to be in.” The hippogriff paused and stopped clawing the carpet. His next words came slowly. “It was my second letter before I came to Port Archer. By the phrasing, I think he suspected I’d looked at the delivery, and maybe studied it a little more than I should have. He said that the delivery would prove insightful. Then he said something about ‘garden as meant to be.’ And he even asked me what I thought life would be like if the whole world was a garden. I assumed it was rhetorical. So I never answered it.” The captain scratched his throat in contemplation. “Garden? Why bring that up?” Mr. Horn rolled his head in confusion. “I couldn’t tell you. This was a peculiar thing to say as I don’t know how it related to anything, and that was before I knew what Grimlock’s note said. At this point, I’m doubly lost.” The captain furrowed his brows. “Garden…” he mumbled under his breath. “Garden garden garden. It’s a strange question. Both pegasi and griffons possess innate weather manipulation magics, though the pegasi are better at it. Other species can perform it to some extent or another. So this could be a way to ‘make the world a garden’ through careful weather manipulation. I do not see how it has to do with poor Cold Snap’s run in with blood magic or Grimlock’s land of death.” “So it could be that my benefactor was a pegasus of the supremacy mindset?” Captain Gideon nodded. “I won’t discount it. We don’t know enough. But you are right. That was an unusual statement. No one would see the reason…” he trailed off. “Sir?” Mr. Horn asked. “Not no one.” “Sir?” “Damn it all! We’re not as ahead in this game as I thought. And we are in more peril than I thought. Mr. Horn, my good news is that I can tell you who your patron is, but the sad reality is that you’ll wish you were ignorant.” “Uhh…” Mr. Horn tried to process the captain’s eloquent warning. Cold Snap’s heart thundered from both the fear of being caught and from the drama playing out inside. Judging by the shuddering breaths beside him, Nebula managed no better. Just who was it that could cause such a reaction from the unflappable captain? “Captain?” Mr. Horn ventured. “Not now,” the captain said as he rushed from his desk to check the map tacked to the wall. He studied the map, mumbling figures under his breath. After an eternity, he turned back to Mr. Horn. “It’s possible.” By this point, Mr. Horn had lost all patience. “What’s possible?! Who is after us? Talk some sense already!” The captain wasn’t listening. Instead, he leapt back to his desk and jammed one of those little buttons beneath his brass tubes. “Pilot, maintain course. Engine crew, if we are at standard speed, take us to full speed. Midshipmare, set up continuous watch rotations among the crew, two hour shifts. No one approaches us unawares. Charge the guns.” A flurry of affirmatives poured through the tubes. Mr. Horn looked like he was about to explode from impatience. “Captain, I insist that”- “You insist nothing! Action must be taken.” The hippogriff took a half-step forward. Then he froze. The captain blinked, and the murderous mood vaporized. Cold Snap couldn’t tell what changed. Then he saw the red gem glowing atop the desk. A silver mist formed around it. Snap felt his fur stand on end as the silver cloud grew. He watched as every speck of dust in the cabin rush to join the cloud that grew and grew. Rays of sunlight coming through the windows caught each mote and lit them like an ephemeral ghost. Slowly, the cloud grew more defined. It grew legs, tail, mane, and horn. When Snap’s fur finally settled down, a phantom mare stood in the room. She walked. She looked around. She even breathed! It was as if a real pony violated the captain’s sanctuary. She wasn’t young, but she probably hadn’t yet hit middle age. She was no longer in the prime of her beauty, but she still possessed an allure forged by experience and confidence. Everything about her radiated control. Cold Snap suddenly realized that he could see her eyes through the back of her dusty mane. They narrowed in shrewd observation, but remained calm above all else. This was a mare used to getting what she wanted without question or compromise. When he left on this once-simple trip, he never ever would have considered anything like this. To say it was a peculiar experience would be an incredible understatement. He could only hope the world ran out of peculiar experiences before this was all over. The ghost mare looked at Mr. Horn. “Well, the courier stayed with the package. You were well-recommended indeed, Mr. Horn.” Then she focused on the griffon. She hummed approvingly and smiled. “And a captain? The scourge of the seas? You have aimed high and accomplished as much as you claimed you would. If only you could aim a little higher.” Captain Gideon scowled. “Long-speak magic is hardly a subtle enchantment. Only the ignorant would think this gem was anything else. When my crew brought me this ruby, I knew that sooner or later, its owner would come calling. Even so, I should have expected it would be you, Lilith.”