//------------------------------// // Fishing for Answers // Story: Eden Fire // by Sharman Pierce //------------------------------// Cold Snap sat in befuddled silence. What else was he supposed to do? He had his understanding of the world rocked from the instant he was hauled onto this ship. Seeing the captain’s secrets took that rocking world and capsized it. The boat...ship...rocked beneath him on a nearly glassy sea. Bits of kelp floated in the water, and seabirds whirled around the ship picking at anything they thought might be food. Land was close. It just wasn’t close enough. Snap performed his duties methodically. As long as he was working, he could pretend to be calm. If he pretended to be calm, then he could pretend that he had a grip on the situation around him. The truth was he was scared silly. That book burned a hole in his sensibilities. Returning it would prove challenging as either the captain had been in his cabin or Nebula or himself were committed to duties. Besides, he rationalized it by saying that they didn’t know enough yet and they may not get another chance to read the journal. In many ways, that was true. They had only read a fraction of the book. What they had read was a blend of uninformative glimpses into the captain’s psyche and equally uninformative and more bewildering tangents that would take smarter ponies than themselves to understand. As it was, they had barely enough time to put away their mess in the storage room and get back to sleep before their next day of duty. Still, that cut their sleep short, and Snap was feeling a little groggy by mid-afternoon. So for now, the book lay hidden behind a rack of bedding materials that had never been used by the dust on them. It was safe enough there. The room wasn’t used very often to begin with which made it appealing for the two conspirators. There was no regular inventorying of of equipment like on a real military ship. The crew were relatively honest types who didn’t prowl through their mates’ belongings with the implicit understanding that their own property would be sacrosanct. That didn’t stop Cold Snap from engineering wild ideas of how the captain would find out about the book. He had visions of the captain needing that blue sheet with that bone-white fringe and going down to the storage closet because it had to be THAT blanket. Not the blue one with the pink trim and then he would pull them out which would cause the whole stack to spill forth like the sea and drown the captain in linens and lint except for a damning book that floated on the top which would make the captain- What would the captain do? Cold Snap’s feverish imagination ground to a halt with that question. It was easy to say that the first officer of the Yellow Rose would invent some terrible punishment for whoever violated his privacy. However, he knew the captain a little better than that. This wasn’t his normal way. Sure, there would be an interesting punishment as sure as the Equestrian princess raised the sun and moon. He was not motivated by wolfish desires, nor did he ever rule with brutality. His battles might be swift and terrible, but that was only when his wrath was brought to boil. Otherwise, he used reasoning through all his actions. What he would do when...IF...he found his missing book was anyone’s guess. Until then, he would still research, not snoop, through Captain Gideon’s inner thoughts. There were answers in it. He absolutely knew it. He also felt a conviction that the answers were important. Inexplicably, knew he was running out of time. He felt it every time he lay down to sleep. He knew it every time he paused his work. It was a persistent, nagging thought that spurred him to find that one key fact that would set all the pieces of this puzzle in their right place. He would be up tonight and pouring over the journal. He yawned. Assuming he could stay awake that long. ******************************************************************************************** He had no way to prove it, but Cold Snap felt that being out in the open air helped keep him awake and alert. Perhaps it did. Certainly it was more conducive to a late night than being inside the stuffy ship. To her credit, the Yellow Rose had excellent ventilation. She could blow air like the corridors were the open sea. Despite all that, it wasn’t the same. When out here, Snap felt as if he was on the edge of discovery, like a new world waited just beyond the horizon. Inside, he could only share air with another hundred and some-odd others. So, he sat outside. The wind blew briskly from the north west. In these lower regions, the wind lost most of its chill and was instead pleasantly cool in these near-tropic environments. The powerful ship hardly noticed the headwind and powered through it like it did everything else. Where he sat was a bit of a sheltered area that kept him out of the gusts, and there was a small, amber light close by. It seemed odd that the ship would have such a light in its collection of tools, yet after considering his experience on the Golden Hound, Snap realized that all sailing ships regularly ran some light to avoid collisions in the dark. To any observer, this was just another ship moving quickly…against the wind. Tonight wasn’t much of a risk for collision. They hadn’t seen another ship in days, and the clear sky illuminated the sea in bright starlight and moonlight as if it was the broad day. All Snap had to do to see the most incredible sights he’d seen in his life was to look up. Look up, he did not. He had seen these stars many times, if in a little less glory. Now, he hunched over the journal and read in the light of the amber faux-lantern. Slowly, he flipped through the pages, piecing details together as best he could. Captain Gideon had a fascinating mind. Each page demonstrated some level of mastery in one or another science. Metallurgy, construction, mechanics, and the natural world all occupied his varied thoughts. Among them were even dabblings into the magical fields of alchemy, enchanting, and runes. That said, these were much less covered than the more “hard” sciences. Still, it was quite impressive for a griffon to grasp such subjects that Nebula would have taken an interest in. Their lesser degree matched perfectly with the captain’s actions. Snap thought back to something the griffon said. Magic could be a crutch. Having seen the workings of the Yellow Rose for- Actually, how long had he been on this ship? Snap frowned and momentarily forgot about the book. He couldn’t quite remember. Doubtless Neb could tell him down to the second, but he had lost track of a mundane thing like time in all the organized calamity that seemed to plague this ship. Snap blinked away the woolgathering thoughts and turned the page. Another sketch, this time of a self-propelled cart with great teethed iron wheels and below that, some form of engine that relied on a liquid fuel rather than steam. He turned another page. Lilith. Well, well, well. If that wasn’t something he was looking for. Snap tilted the book to catch the most light. Some days I know not what to think of my past. No life is complete without mistakes, and she is mine. I never knew her name, not her given name. She never called herself by anything other than that epitaph to Man. At the time, I thought nothing of it. To someone inexperienced and seeking answers however they might come, such a vain fantasy was a small thing to ignore. If she wanted to adopt such an apocryphal name in spite of its connotations, who was I to stop her? Would anything have changed if I had? Night and day I have wrestled with this question. Should I have been so eager to help on her peculiar crusade? Should I have sought to redirect her attentions to something more pragmatic? No answer comes to me. When I first met her, she was little more than an eccentric, an outlier in the world she knew best. I sympathized. Sympathy is the first step to madness. Together we explored and traded knowledge. I do not understand where our companionship fractured. All that I understand is that my actions benefited her incalculably. She always held this interest in what the history and myths of man held. When we met though, it was as if I ignited a passion within her, burning brighter than magnesium fire. Simply knowing Man’s past was not enough for her any longer. She needed to embody it. Recreating his accomplishments became her vision. She dove into everything about that creature, and I could not stop her. Could not. Would not. They are irrelevant now. It’s been three years now since we last saw each other. If possible, I would have that continue until my dying day. Somehow, I know that cup will not pass from me. For me, there is no balm in Gilead. For both of us, eccentricity made us impassioned. In the ensuing years of this war, I have sought to use my knowledge to its utmost to benefit others. This ship I steam upon now is the first of her kind, a proof of how our lives can be revolutionized in a most wondrous fashion. Soon enough, I’ll pack her cannon in grease and store them away. It is what my soul desires. What has her impassioned soul become? What has she done? Every now and then I hear supposedly wild tales that inevitably point to something we discovered. She is doing terrible things to advance her vision. What happens upon our certain meeting? Redemption is something to offered freely. There is no obligation for it to be accepted. After all, the road to damnation is marked with gleaming signposts. Cold Snap blinked and set the book aside. He turned the details over in his mind. Who was Lilith? His early assumptions of employer or lover were not accurate. These two were friends...once. After that, the sky was the limit for what happened next. Still, it seemed like she was once one of the town weirdos that was tolerated because she was harmless. Somehow Captain Gideon of the Hail clan changed that. Perhaps it wasn’t purposeful. However, he had been the catalyst in their reactive relationship. With that relationship shattered, Lilith was running amok to build her vision. If only he knew what the vision was. He wrinkled his snout. On second thought, it might be better if he didn’t know what she imagined. It might help him sleep at night. As these thoughts whirled through his head, Snap set the book down, leaned back, and watched the moonlit waves. Nothing came of his musing save for a smidgen of a migraine, and nothing would come of it unless someone came forth with answers! Time seemed to stretch with nothing to keep him company other than the sounds of the night and the rocking of the ship. Gradually, they eased his troubled mind. His eyes shot open. Cold Snap looked around. He’d been dozing. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been that way, but something had shaken him from his stupor. Clink-scrape. There it was! Something metallic struck something else. Sure the Yellow Rose was made of iron, but Captain Gideon ran a tight ship. There wasn’t anything making a sound that wasn’t meant to, and nothing on the deck at this time of night that made such a sound. Cold Snap gently shoved the captain’s journal into his saddlebags and crept forward. The sound came from further aft. That would be either near the main entry hatch or the rear turret. Making his way carefully through the dark, he heard a few other sounds, light crystalline scraping sounds, the tap-tap of something striking the deck, and gentle metal clinks. He passed the main hatch and worked his way to the Number Two turret. His eyes worked through the darkness. Then he saw a shadow move. It was hunched near the railing. Snap watched the figure’s silhouette. It wasn’t a pony. All the proportions looked wrong for that. Then again, it could be a trick of the angle. It seemed to be watching the silvery glint of a fish leaping from wave to wave. Then the figure shifted just enough for the light to play across its feathered head and the smooth transition to fur below its winged back. A griffon? There were several in the crew other than the captain. He saw the tufted ears. Only one on this ship matched that description. “Mr. Horn.” The hippogriff jolted. His head twisted in the moonlight. He nodded briefly in greeting. “Cold Snap, a late evening for you too? I’d say it is actually. It’s well after midnight now. What has you up?” Cold Snap approached. “Couldn’t sleep I guess. Lot on my mind.” He stared into the rippling water washing away from the hull. Then Mr. Horn cleared his throat. “I can’t blame you. The last...well, the whole time on this ship has been challenging.” In the moonlight, the hippogriff looked as if he was commiserating. It was a tiny bit frustrating. He wasn’t fragile, just out of his depth. If his time on this ship proved anything, it was that he was good at adapting. “Has it been bothering you much? Any changes?” he asked. Mr. Horn didn’t need to specify what “it” was. “When people aren’t asking about it, I can usually forget about it.” The hippogriff winced. “Apologies.” Snap waved a hoof. “No. That was out of line. Sorry. Really though? It’s like it’s there, but it isn’t. Once I got my head wrapped around it a little, it wasn’t nearly as bad as I made myself think it was. It’s given me dreams. I don’t know what to make of them, but the trees are always there. Sometimes they burn. Sometimes they burn later. Sometimes”- he shuddered- “sometimes I burn with them.” Mr. Horn shook his head. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t imagine it would to that.” “Wait till I get going,” Snap chuckled ruefully. “There’s more?” “Not much. Ever since I messed with that stupid thing, I feel like I have to go somewhere. I want to go home, but I have to go there more. Problem is that I don’t know where there is. Just...that way, sorta,” he said as he pointed vaguely at the bow of the Yellow Rose. “I wouldn’t call it intelligent, but it has a will of its own. It feels lost and confused. So it makes me feel that way sometimes. Maybe that’s why it wants to go back? It was taken from the trees and belongs with them?” Mr. Horn blinked. “That’s quite a statement. Forgive me if I don’t envy you.” “Not to worry,” Snap smiled. The hippogriff’s sides rippled with low laughter. “You know, you sound like him, the captain I mean.” Snap thought about that for a moment, then gave his own laugh. “I guess so. When I get home, I’ll have to have a coat and hat for how dandy I’ll be talking.” The two chuckled good-naturedly. “Who’s Lilith?” Cold Snap asked with the swiftness of a knife. Immediately, the good mood evaporated. “Yes. I know about her,” Snap said quickly. For a brief moment, the other figure hesitated. In the faint glint of his eyes, Snap could see the wheels turning. Mr. Horn debated playing the fool and denying. That moment passed quickly. “How do you know about her?” “These days, I have a knack for knowing things for no reason. Being tied to some myth by Man’s blood magics apparently has at least some benefits,” Snap said glibly. The hippogriff looked out to the sea and the stars wheeling above. The silence was pregnant, and Snap was patient. “I don’t know who Lilith is.” Anger flashed through Snap’s young body. Then Mr. Horn’s next words cooled it. “No one does. Everyone wears a mask. You and I wear small ones. Captain Gideon wears his own. Lilith wears hers. The difference is that I don’t think hers ever comes off. “She never told me much of anything important. I met her twice. Neither time would I consider it a pleasant experience. However, I have ears. My business is listening and reading between the lines. It’s kept my life on occasion and my purse full often.” “I thought you’d said you never met her. You told the captain you did everything through correspondence,” Cold Snap said with skepticism lacing his voice. Mr. Horn bristled. “I didn’t lie. I told him I didn’t know my client. I don’t know who Lilith is. You can meet somepony and never know anything important about them. Secondly, I did use mail to communicate on this ill-fated venture. That was simple obfuscation.” “Who’s the one talking like the captain now?” Cold Snap jabbed. Mr. Horn frowned. No retort came. His feathers ruffled and he smoothed them with effort. “No one seems to know where she’s from. Her ideas are strange though. They’re foreign. That may not mean anything to you, but I’ve traveled in most every country worth seeing and some that aren’t. Not one of them thought like her. I think that bothered her more than she wanted to let on.” More silence filled the air. It was several minutes before Mr. Horn spoke again. “Some who knew of her thought she was crazy. I don’t think that she is. Her mind is just otherworldly. That’s the only way I could describe it. The world we live in is the strange one it seems.” “So she wants to make this world like her imagined world? That’s why she wants the box?” Snap asked. “Between you and me, I think the box is near useless at this point. It’s these trees on it and in your dreams that matter. She said to me to imagine the world like a garden. Evil would be stripped from it in a heartbeat. And just like that, all our problems would be solved. What do you think?” Snap mulled it over. “It sounds too good to be true. There’s more than that.” “And you’d be right. I did a little digging on the sly. You were closer than you’d like joking about Man’s blood magics. Myths say that death was the first and greatest offense against harmony. That death tainted everything, changed the world, and we still feel it to this day.” In that moment, Snap’s thoughts were a whirl. Pieces were falling into place, and he wasn’t liking the picture. “She wants to rewrite the world?” He sat back on his haunches. The enormity of the situation settled in his gut like one of the Rose’s shells. She would reach the trees, and they would be her mechanism to eliminate evil, or whatever her perverse definition of evil was. And he knew with utter certainty that these trees had changed the world before. All it would take was a death to make it happen. “If one death started it, what does a whole ship of sacrifices do?” Cold Snap asked in horrified wonder. At that utterance, Mr. Horn froze. “And I thought the captain could be morbid,” he said with a shudder. He gave Snap a playful shove. It felt pitifully forced. “Perhaps you should sleep. I’ll keep watching the flying fish.” As he thought about what he’d learned of Lilith, Cold Snap wondered if he could ever sleep again. One thought managed to surface in that mental tempest. Nebula would never forgive him for turning him into a sacrifice!