//------------------------------//
// Chapter 9 - Keelhaul 
// Story: Hope and Changeling 
// by FrontSevens 
//------------------------------//

“Okay, let me get this straight.”
 
Lucid nodded, removing the quill from behind his ear and putting it back in his satchel.
 
“Your princess – your immortal princess – banished her own sister to the moon for one thousand years?  And after all that time, her sister came back, threatening to destroy the world, and just turns good again in less than twenty-four hours?”
 
He tilted his head and grinned.  “Less than two hours, actually.  And, you forgot the part where her sister now rules jointly with her.”
 
I shook my head.  “That’s just… unbelievable.” 
 
“Welcome to my world,” he quipped with a smirk.
 
We were walking along the pier, on the south side of Manehattan.  We were halfway down the coast, but none of the captains so far seemed to want to take us across.  Whole Grain was confident that somepony would accept our request, mentioning that Manehattan captains were compensated by the city if they ferried ponies for free.  Either all the ships in the city really were “undergoing repairs”, or there was something that they weren’t telling us.
 
Lucid and I were hanging in the back, and he was in the middle of sharing the basics of his world after I had told him the basics of mine.  There must have been more to this world, however, because not much of what he was telling me was making sense.  “One thousand years on the moon, though?  How did she breathe?  What did she eat?”
 
“Moon rocks?  Who knows?  Some conspirators will tell you she was merely hidden away the whole time, and the entire thing was staged.  It’s actually likely that she really was up there.  With magic, anything is possible.”  He looked up at the next candidate for travel, as the wheat sisters talked with a captain.  “I’m right there with you, though.  A thousand years is a tremendously long time to ground your sister for.  And she was her bloody sister!” he emphasized with a hoof.  “You’d think they’d talk things out or something before resorting to banishment.”
 
Sure, if I had the power to ground my little sister when I was a kid, I’d take full advantage of it, and probably abuse it.  Not for a thousand years, though; that’s overdoing it in most situations. 
 
“I still think it’s fascinating that your world is led by males,” the professor continued.  “Here, almost all positions of authority are filled by females.  Not just with the princesses, but mayors and even the police force, too.”
 
“Really?  Because Vanhoover had a male mayor.”
 
“He’s one of the few.  There’s Mayor Shipshape in Baltimare, and a sherrif in Appleloosa, but that’s about it.  Mostly mares everywhere else.”
 
What did he say?  “Mares?”
 
He bobbed his head.  “That’s a name for a female pony.  You’ve heard of the term before, correct?”
 
Mare?  Well, yes, in “nightmare”.  But I’d never thought of that as having to do with horses.  Oh, but they called their princess “Nightmare Moon”.  Even more puns.  Ugh.  “Yeah, but we don’t use it in everyday speech.”  Not like ponies do….  Noted for dialect.
 
The wheat sisters were ahead of us on a long, lonely dock, with only one ship attached to it.  There was a husky pony there, leaning on a barrel.  He was talking in a fairly loud voice, but we couldn’t hear what he was saying.
 
I suggested to Lucid that we catch up with them.  I wanted to feel like we were still part of the group.  Lucid had relayed that talk about my dimension should stay between us.  I didn’t object; I felt like I’d have a hard time explaining it to anypony who didn’t already have an explicit interest in it.
 
We approached them as they continued to converse with the pony.  He had a full black beard, and a hook on his left hoof (on, not instead of).  Under the bandana tied around his head was an eye patch slung over his right eye.  As we caught up to them, I heard him say, “O’ course, lass!  Ol’ Captain Keelhaul can take anypony ‘cross the bay!  ‘Sides, I’ve got cargo to deliver.”
 
Great.  He talked like a pirate, too.  He even slurred his words a bit, which gave me the impression that he was drunk.  Who would be drunk so early in the morning?
 
“Thank you, Mr. Keelhaul.  That is very kind of you,” Wheat Flour said.
 
He dismissed it with a hoof as he attempted to get up.  “Think nothin’ of it, lass!  This sea pony’s in need of a little morning excitement!”
 
I didn’t have a good feeling about “excitement”.  What excitement was there to be had on such a peaceful day?  But, if he was willing to take us for free, who was I to complain?
 
His sword hilt dragging on the pier, he led us onto the modest-looking boat.  There was one deck, and a raised area for the… helm.  I think that’s what they called it in those Disney movies.  On the deck were many barrels set up on their ends, tied together in bunches with rope.  Some of the barrels were coming loose, but not dangerously so.  The mast was proud and tall, and boasted a wide and patched-up sail.
 
We made ourselves comfortable on the main deck of the boat.  Wheat Flour and Whole Grain sat in an open space among the barrels.  I sat down behind the thick rail of the boat, looking out over the edge, and Lucid found a place near me.
 
“Are you sure you want to come with us?” I asked him.  “You must have other things to do.”
 
He leaned on a barrel and shook his head.  “I needed a holiday this week anyway.  I finished planning lectures for the fall last week.  Thanks for asking, though.”
 
When we were all on board, our captain untied the ship from the dock and raised the plank.  “Alright, ya landlubbers, ready yerselves!” he exclaimed as he walked up to the wheel.  Once there, he made a dramatic motion with his hoof.  “Anchors aweigh!  We set sail for Fillydelphia!”
 
Whole Grain rolled her eyes.  I didn’t mind, particularly.  I felt like I could handle an hour or so of a cheesy pirate if it meant we would make it across.
 
He steered the boat out of the harbour and caught the good side of the wind.  The sun was behind us, and it was early morning, so I think we were heading west.  I looked over the side of the boat, watching the dark blue water pass under us.  I’ve never been out on a boat before, and had to hold on to the rail to keep my balance.  The waters weren’t rough enough for me to feel seasick, at least.
 
Water looked much simpler here than in my world, but it probably had the same properties; it was deep, so I had to be careful not to fall off.  If walking was something to get used to, I’d rather have gotten used to swimming in a pond than the sea.
 

~ ~ ~

 
Seagull chirping can get repetitive.  It really can.
 
We had been out at sea for a while: less than two hours, if I had to guess.  I had been staring at the water, but in a sort of dazed state.  Maybe it was the inconsistency of my sleep cycle over the past couple of days, or just adventuring in general.
 
Why was I here?  I’ve already asked that question, but it resurfaced in my head.  I was in a world where ponies could talk, on my way to Canterlot (wherever that was from here), as a weird semi-pony creature.  And I was tired.  I didn’t want to be in that world.  Yet, as much as that was true… there I was.  And although I wanted something done about it, I didn’t feel like doing anything.
 
I didn’t even have the energy to talk.  Even if I did, I didn’t feel like I’d have much to talk about with the wheat sisters.  Wheat Flour wasn’t much of a talker to begin with.  And, whether Whole Grain liked to talk or not, it was clear that she didn’t want to talk to me.  I couldn’t blame her; they were wasting their time in coming with me.
 
I figured I might as well get somepony else to talk, so I’d have something else to think about.  Why not Lucid?  He had an interest in dimensions.  I wondered how that tied to changelings, or if it did at all.  I’d have to be careful about not revealing too much to the wheat sisters, sure, but a generic question shouldn’t hurt.
 
“Say, Lucid,” I began, “what’s your degree in?”
 
He got up and turned around, leaning against the other side of the barrel so he could face me.  “Believe it or not, my degree was in dreams.”
 
“Dreams, huh?”  What an uncanny coincidence. 
 
“If you have a degree in dreams, why are you doing a study on changelings?” Whole Grain asked.
 
Lucid chuckled.  “Believe me, there are plenty of ponies that I could study the dreams of.  Changelings, though, are something of a rarity.  I’ve never actually met one: only read about them in books.  When I found one, it was too good of a research opportunity to pass up.”
 
Speaking of opportunity…  “Well, I’ve been having some strange dreams lately.  Do you think you’d be able to interpret them?”
 
He shook his head.  “My apologies, but no.  I’m not up to speed with the psychological aspect of dreams; that was back in my undergraduate days – completely different from my current studies.  I could share what little I remember on dream theory, though.”  He scratched his cheek, looking down at the somewhat battered floorboards.  “It’s only theory, mind you.  General, theoretical stuff.”
 
I’d take what I could get.  “Sure, anything would help.”
 
He rubbed his chin.  “Well, there are the ancient legends and wives’ tales, of course, that hearken back to the first days of Nightmare Moon.  It is said that Luna, the night princess, created dreams before she left to haunt the ponies that shunned her night.  It was widely believed, actually, up until recently.”  Gears clicked in my mind, and he vocalized my suspicions.  “Nightmare Moon was vanquished, and the dreams, theoretically, would be vanquished with her.”
 
“But, ponies still have dreams, right?”  I couldn’t be sure.  Maybe a human-turned-pony was a special case.
 
“Exactly.  This has led to a little controversy.  Some say that Nightmare Night’s spell was permanent.  Others say that Luna simply forgot to undo the spell upon her return.  Both are unlikely; magic doesn’t work like that, and I doubt the princesses are that forgetful.
 
“This prompted further research into other theories by some colleagues of mine.  Dreams start in a pony’s brain; that part is widely agreed upon.”  He pushed up his glasses.  “What they do is what I try to get at in my studies, but dreams’ true meanings are up for debate.  Most believe that ancient magic – predating Celestia – is involved, in a way that dreams can predict the future.  Some say it’s the brain trying to tell you something in a symbolic fashion.  Still others say there’s simply no meaning at all, just random imaginings of your mind.”
 
“What do you think?” I asked.
 
He shrugged.  “Magic is involved; that I know for sure.  However, to what degree that has to do with what dreams mean, I don’t know.  I’ve never really delved into the history of dreams.  It’s something for a historian to discover, not somepony of the likes of me.”
 
Great, so there was some mystical magic fiddling with my mind at night.  Still, if Lucid wasn’t studying the meaning of dreams, what about dreams was there left to study?  I opened my mouth to ask, but was interrupted by a violent lurch in the ship that knocked me off my feet. 
 
“Hold on to yer hooves, mates!” Captain Keelhaul bellowed.  “We’re in the rough waters, now!”
 
I looked across the surface of the water, but there weren’t any particularly tall waves around us.  It wasn’t even windy, much less stormy; there were barely any clouds in the sky.  Confused, I looked down into the deep blue water.  There, I saw a darker shadow pass under us, and another violent bump followed.
 
My escalating heartbeat dissolved my fatigue.  “What is going on?!” I shouted to the captain.
 
“Shocktopus migration!” he answered, with a roaring laugh.
 
If the possibility of danger hadn’t felt so great, I would’ve grumbled something more about puns.  I ran up to the front of the boat and looked ahead.  Between us and a distant shoreline, which I assumed to be Fillydelphia, were several dark spots in the ocean.  All of them were drifting in a perpendicular direction to the ship’s path.
 
One of those dark spots was directly in front of us.  Two arms rose up from the patch of water like snakes.  They were long, black, slick, spotted with yellow suction cups, and… sparking.  One arm came crashing down right next to me, opening up a gaping hole in the floorboards.  I moved away from it as it sputtered with electricity.
 
“Don’t go takin’ a swim, now!” The captain hollered.  “These monsters are a might dangerous!  One hoof in the drink’ll be the last thing ye remember!”
 
The moment my worried gaze met Wheat Flour’s, I felt my stomach drop.  No, I was not prepared as I thought I was for “morning excitement”.  No wonder he was the only captain willing to sail a ship today.
 
As he whirled the steering wheel, the boat swerved into the centre of the activity.  I dearly hoped that this captain knew what he was doing.  The boat lurched again as another shocktopi rammed the boat, and my face met the deck with a painful whack.
 
“Do you think we could pop below deck for the time being?” Lucid asked the captain as he realigned his glasses.
 
He responded with a laugh.  “There be no ‘below deck’, matey!  Ye get to stay above deck, where all the fun be!”
 
Yep, he was definitely drunk.  This was not fun in the slightest.
 
A giant shocktopus climbed onto the front corner of the ship, tilting it and causing water to flow in.  With a tentacle it wasn’t using to hold on, it reached out and touched Wheat Flour.  She yelped and toppled onto the deck. 
 
I wanted to go and help her, but I couldn’t pull myself up over the barrels.  “Wheat Flour, are you alright?” I asked.
 
“Yes,” was her strained reply, but she didn’t open her eyes.  Whole Grain dragged her closer to the centre of the deck, shielding her from further injury.
 
The boat gave another lurch, as something ran into the shocktopus.  Its arms slid across the deck and over the edge of the boat, as the creature was dragged down into the water.  “That’s right!  Be gone with ye, ye salt-spittin’, overgrown jellyfish!” Captain Keelhaul yelled.
 
I tried to stand up, but my knees were shaking from nausea.  Lucid was faring better than me and helped me to my feet.  When the ship had steadied, we looked past the front and noticed a dark spot larger than the others.  It had some gaps in it, but it looked like a pretty big creature.  Several arms were coming up out of the water, as if they were inviting us in.  What twisted my stomach was that we were accepting that invitation dead-on.
 
“What in Celestia’s name are you doing?!” Whole Grain yelled at the captain.  “Turn this ship!  Get us out of here!”
 
Not acknowledging her, the captain remained focused on that same spot.  His grin was wide, such that I could see the glimmer of a gold tooth.  If he was planning on running into that thing…
 
No, that would be foolish.  The ship could crash or turn over.  And if one touch of the electricity-infested ocean could kill us, then… that couldn’t happen.
 
I wasn’t about to let somepony get us killed.  This world wasn’t going to drive me around wherever it wanted to.  I had to get to Canterlot, and then get back home.  To leave my fate up to somebody else would be too risky.  I had just been letting things happen to me, and I realized that I had to start taking things into my own hands and become responsible for my own fate.
 
I looked at Wheat Flour, being shielded by an apprehensive Whole Grain.  I wasn’t going to just stand back and watch again.
 
I am not dead weight.
 
I went up to the helm, trying to keep my balance as another shocktopus jostled the boat.  The captain was there, focused straight ahead on the creatures as we closed in on them.
 
I shoved him aside and grabbed the steering wheel.  As soon as I did, I heaved it to the right, trying to steer it as far as it would go.  The ship tilted as it went into a turn, and we barely skimmed the edge of that dark spot.
 
Thankfully, the captain didn’t fight back.  He drew his wooden sword.  “Ah!  Good thinkin’, me bucko!  Ye man the ship, and I’ll see to the beasts!”
 
If I had it my way, we wouldn’t be in the middle of these beasts in the first place.
 
Once we were past the big, ominous blob, I tried to weave around the incoming obstacles as best as I could.  The steering wheel had quite a bit of resistance on it, so every turn was either a hard right or a hard left, to the passengers’ dismay.  Some passengers were dismayed for different reasons than others.
 
“Aw, blast!” the captain exclaimed, as he waved his sword over the railing at a passing shocktopus.  “Ye need to come about, lad!  Yer hornswagglin’ me out of glory!”
 
Whatever “hornswaggling” was, I intended to keep doing it.
 
The wheel was starting to get the best of me, and every turn became more and more exhausting. I was aiming for any opening in the water, anything that wasn’t a blob.  Turn, turn, turn…  Soon, I was throwing my whole body weight into every turn.
 
Not only was I tired, but I also felt sick.  I was on the same boat that lurched at my every turn, which was making me feel lightheaded.  I had to press on, however, until we were at the shoreline.
 
Oh, the shoreline was right there.  We must have been going faster than I had thought.
 
This giant hunk of wood was approaching Fillydelphia fast, but I had no idea how to stop it.  There weren’t any brakes on a ship.  Or, were there?  I racked my dizzy mind for an answer…  Oh.  Anchors.  As I turned to the side to look for the anchor, I found the captain already attempting to lift it.
 
“Oy!  I’d appreciate some assistance,” he said.
 
I helped him lift it up and over the side, and it plummeted into the water.  The boat jerked forward and sent us sprawling onto the deck, but a strange crashing sound accompanied the sudden stop, and it didn’t sound like an anchor.
 
We looked ahead, and we saw that a dock had acted as a cushion for the boat.  Unfortunately, it was not a particularly sturdy cushion.  More unfortunately, we had hit the center of what appeared to be a rather large dock.  And, just to pile on to the misfortune, the center of the dock decided to collapse and bring the piers it was connected to with it.
 
And this was all when I had just decided to start accepting responsibility.
 
Broken pieces of wood were floating around us.  The ship was still in somewhat good condition – it wasn’t sinking – but the same couldn’t be said for the dock.  I looked to the captain, who was a little taken aback.  He walked down to one of the barrels, popped a cork out of it, and brought his mouth right next to the hole, taking large gulps.
 
“I thought you delivered those.  Why are you drinking from it?” Professor Lucid pondered aloud.
 
He removed his mouth and replaced the cork, releasing a belch.  “I’m the only pony that I deliver this cargo to, lad!”
 
Lucid asked what I was too disoriented to ask.  “If you don’t deliver this, why do you take it back and forth?”
 
“Ye have to understand,” he encouraged as he wiped his mouth and swayed a little.  “I live for two things; the open seas and good ol’-fashioned cider!”
 
Whole Grain closed her eyes and looked away, taking in a deep breath.  She took restrained steps towards the captain.  “If you love the open seas so much,” she said through clenched teeth.  I expected her to continue that, had she not been interrupted.
 
“Hey!  Hey you!”
 
A voice coming from the shore stole our attention.  A male pony with a scruffy face was calling out to us from the intact portion of the dock.  He was large – not quite as large as Captain Kill-all, but still large.  Maybe it was the life vest he was wearing.  Above all, he looked quite irritated, and the police mare next to him didn’t look too happy, either.
 
He was looking right at me.  “Look at what you did to my dock!  What do you have to say for yourself?” he demanded.
 
In reply, I leaned over the side of the boat and heaved up the contents of my stomach.