//------------------------------// // The Flying Ship // Story: The Mare With No Story And Other Promising Tales // by James Washburn //------------------------------// The Flying Ship This story, like so many stories, starts with marriage. Not with love, because in marriages like this one, love isn't really a factor. This was the proposed marriage of Princess Jade of the Crystal Empire to Prince Al-Butyeh of the Ottomare Empire. Both Empires were vast. The Crystal Empire stretched all the way from the frozen steppes of the Crystal Mountains in the West, to the deep dark woods of Marescovy, to the edge of the distant Himallama Mountain range. The Ottomare empire meanwhile covered all of modern-day Bilistan, Pachystan, Hind, Camelu and Saddle Arabia. The marriage, on paper, looked watertight. It would ensure that the two greatest superpowers in the world would be linked by marriage, thus ending the possibility of war between them, it would ensure the safety of trade routes over land and sea, and it would doubtless mean years of peace and prosperity for all involved. There was just one small problem, which didn't even appear, which no one even considered, until the day when Prince Al-Butyeh was presented to Princess Jade. It all went fine to begin with. Al-Butyeh arrived on time with his entourage of bodyguards, retainers and general dogsbodies. All was well as they entered the Palace of the Crystal Heart (the Krummlin, as it was known). All was well as they were admitted up along the long and winding stairs of the palace, past row after row of crystal guards, armed and armoured to the teeth. All was well, in fact, until he walked into the throne room. Row upon row of nobles and courtiers knelt as the Prince entered. The announcer cleared his throat, and called out over the bowed heads. “Prince Al-Butyeh of the Ottomare Empire!” At the far end of the hall sat King Diamond XVII. He was quite a sight, seated in the grand crystal throne wearing his flowing red robe of state lined with white fur (a reminder for any griffons in the crowd who was in charge). Hovering at the king's side was his trusted advisor Chancellor Sombra, and at the other his beautiful daughter Princess Jade. This was the first time the Princess had ever seen her husband-to-be. All that morning she had been pacing her quarters, wondering if he'd be as handsome as they said, with his deep, black hair and handsome moustache. They always said he was good looking, for a goat. She was therefore a little put out to see that, as handsome as he may have been for a goat, he was still... well... That wasn't to say she was a snobbish mare (Although strictly speaking, she was, being royalty and all), but the Prince really didn't look her type. She grimaced as he walked (no, swaggered) forward, a long curved scimitar by his side, goatee trimmed to a point and his kaftan billowing. He looked like the very image of a Baabary corsair (As in, from the Baabary states of Mareocco and Adalgeria). Very handsome for a goat, handsome to any other mare perhaps, but not to her. The Prince spoke, and Chancellor Sombra translated. “He greets you, your majesty,” said the Chancellor, his head bowed, but his eyes forward, “and requests your daughter's hoof in marriage.” “I thought we'd already-” started the king. “A formality, sir,” Sombra muttered quietly. “Oh! Of course!” said the king, rising to his hooves and stepping towards the Prince. “So, a proposal of marriage is it?” The Prince bowed his head and said that yes, yes it was. “Well, that's as may be,” said the king, his eye twinkling. “But what of her dowry?” The Prince smiled and clopped his hooves together. Two camels staggered forward under the weight of something covered in a velvet cover. With a flick of the hoof, the Prince twitched it aside to reveal a model boat. Well, I say a model boat, there was a bit more to it than that. It was carved from solid gold and shone bright as day. The sails were made of silk lined with gold leaf, the timbers were carved so delicately you could see the knots and whorls in them. This was a cut above any old model boat. “He offers you the Stamboul, your grace,” said the Chancellor. “The finest ship ever to grace in the shipyards of Khandahoof.” The king's eyes were riveted on the model. He imagined how it would look at the dock in Murmanesk, how the timbers would shine like gold in the sunlight, how the sails would flash at dawn and dusk. “Is that it?” came a voice. It was the Princess. All eyes turned to her, and saw her face was a picture of outrage. There was a great hubbub and kerfuffle. Prince Butyeh looked up in consternation, Chancellor Sombra almost choked. The King slowly looked around in confusion. “My dear,” he said. “It's the finest ship in the Ottomare fleet. It is more than worthy of your hoof in marriage.” The Princess strode forward and gave the model a critical look. “It looks like any old boat to me,” she said, with a shrug. There was a gasp, and a rippling thud of swooning ladies. “But my dear-” “Father, your grace, I'm your only daughter. Don't you think my dowry should be something a bit more... impressive?” King Diamond XVII raised a hoof to argue, but he stopped himself. She made a good point... “Your grace, it is a perfect gift,” said Chancellor Sombra, a little worried. “No!” said the King. “I demand a more spectacular dowry for my only daughter! I want... I want...” “A ship that can fly!” All eyes turned to the Princess, who was smiling just a bit too much. “Yes, a flying ship,” she repeated, composing herself. “Sir, I really think-” “A marvellous idea!” the king boomed. “Send word to every corner of the kingdom. I promise my daughter's hoof in marriage and half of my empire to whoever can make a flying ship!” Princess Jade smiled to herself as the court descended into consternation. Prince Al-Butyeh left in a huff along with his entourage, shouting until Chancellor Sombra's ears went red. *        *        * So the word went out all across the land. King Diamond's soldiers went from pillar to post, from bordello to boondock, and from moor to mountain bringing the King's proclamation, and it wasn't long before it came to the deep dark Taiga Woods. In those woods there was a cottage and in that cottage there was a family. An old woodcutter, his wife, and his three grown-up daughters. Now, the first two daughters were daughters to be proud of. Strong, brave, forthright, honest and reasonable, they were all you could hope for and more. Their names were Inkabella (Inky) and Blinkovina (Blinky). The third daughter though, was... well... the third daughter could best be described as Pinkamina, because she defied all other definition. It wasn't that she was a bad child, strictly speaking, she was just... different. She was never where she needed to be, always off looking for friends, looking for trouble, spending hours daydreaming rather than working, and when she was there, she was always in the wrong place at the wrong time, getting under everyone's hooves. She was, in short, a nuisance. So, they were sat around the table one night, when Pinkamina (Pinkie) rushed in with a piece of paper in her mouth. “M'm! Drd!” she said. Her sisters rolled their eyes while her parents gave her a stern but forgiving look. “Spit that out, Pinkamina,” said her father. “What is it?” “The King's proclamation!” she said, excitably, spitting out the sheet on to the table. “He's offering the princess' hoof in marriage and half the empire to anyone who can build a flying ship!” The sheet unrolled on the table, to show a poster. In all sixteen languages of the Crystal Empire, it explained the King's challenge. A flying ship, for his daughter's hoof in marriage and half of the empire. There was a round of doubting chuckles from the family. “Pinkie,” said her mother, kindly, “what on earth would you want with that?” “I could build a flying ship!” she said, barely slowing down, “and I could marry the Princess and get half a kingdom and then we could move into a palace and have mountains of gold and jewels and stuff, and and and-” “Honestly Pinkie,” said Blinky, sighing. “You really do spend too much time daydreaming.” “Yeah,” Inky chimed in. “Even if you could build a flying ship, what makes you think the Princess would marry you?” “Princesses only marry princes,” said Blinky, ever the expert on the political landscape. “They have to, you know.” “Don't worry about it. You're best off here,” said her mother, patting her on the back. “Flying ships and princesses is the business of ponies who understand that kind of thing.” Pinkie hung her head and sat down, half-listening as her family chatted about wood-cutting and rock-farming. Secretly though, she kept the poster tucked under her foreleg, and when she went to bed that night, she lay awake reading and re-reading it. To any individual capable of presenting to his grace King Diamond XVII a ship capable of permanent flight, will be presented half of the Crystal Empire, and the hoof of Princess Jade in marriage. There was even a picture of the Princess, and that made her as determined as anything She sighed and rolled it up. She was just about to go to bed, when she heard her sisters whispering. “Come on, Inky!” “Yeah, yeah, I'm coming.” “She asleep?” “Yeah, I think so.” “Okay,” said well, it sounded like Blinky. She paused. “Should we take the poster?” “Nah, we'll be fine without it. How hard can it be to make a flying ship?” Blinky chuckled softly as she and her sister trotted downstairs. Pinkie though, stayed in bed. Her sisters meanwhile, prepared for the work ahead. They took what food they needed, which is to say, a couple of loaves, some cheese, couple of hard boiled eggs, a spot of butter, a jar of jam, those cakes mum had been saving, dad's best saw and his second-best axe. With that all that in a sack, they trotted off into the woods to get to work. Soon enough they came to a clearing and set to work. Inky cut down the trees, and Blinky about sawed them into planks. All night they cut and sawed, and by the morning they had an impressive pile of planks, sanded and arranged neatly in rows. They sat back on a log and enjoyed some much-deserved breakfast. “Whew, we've made a good start on it,” said Blinky, digging into one of the cakes. “Yeah, I bet we'll be done in no time,” said Inky. “Although, why are we doing this? We can't marry the Princess.” “We're not going to, silly. We're just going to get half the kingdom. The King'd never let a mare marry the Princess.” “Yeah,” said Inky, nodding. “Course, we'll have to build a flying ship first.” Blinky opened her mouth to answer, but... well, how did you build a flying ship? Luckily for her, a distraction arrived in the form of an old stallion shuffling through the woods. He saw the two sisters ahead and ambled over. “'Allo,” he said, smiling faintly. “Been hard at work have we?” “What's it to you if we have?” said Blinky, defensively. “Building a flying ship, are we?” he said, leaning against a tree. “How do you know that?” said Inky, her mouth open in shock. The old stallion shrugged. “Why else would two strapping young mares like yourselves be out here in the woods, sawing planks?” Blinky bristled. She was not strapping. “What do you want, then?” “Want?” he said. “Nothing more than a bite to eat and some company. You wouldn't happen to have something for an old stallion to sink his old teeth into?” Blinky and Inky exchanged a glance. “N-no,” said Inky. “No we don't.” “Yes, we've no food for you,” Blinky added. “Go on your way.” The stallion snorted and trudged back off into the woods. Meanwhile, the two sisters got back to work, setting the planks together, trying to assemble the flying ship but... well, they couldn't. They simply couldn't figure out where this bit should go, where that bit went, where these planks ought to be. They started to argue and bicker and soon enough, Blinky threw her hooves up in despair. “Oh it's useless!” she said. “I told you it was impossible, didn't I?” “Impossible?” Inky sneered. “It was your idea in the first place!” “Was not!” “Was too!” And so on and so forth in the grand tradition of siblings, they argued and bickered all the way home. Their mother and father asked them, where had they been, what had they been doing, to which they replied nowhere, and nothing. Of course, Pinkie knew otherwise, but she stayed silent. It was a small house after all. Her sisters had failed to build a wooden ship. Well, she knew she could do better than them, couldn't she? So that night, she crept downstairs, after Blinky and Inky had muttered and grumbled to sleep. She raided the pantry, taking only what she needed, just a crust of bread and a little rind of cheese. She knew she'd be done making the flying ship by morning, so she only really needed a snack, right? Silently, she left the house (taking dad's third best axe with her) and trotted out into the dark Taiga Woods. Now, she knew it was unwise to start work on an empty stomach, so she found a little clearing, propped the axe up against a tree, sat herself down on a log and had a snack. She'd barely unwrapped the bread and cheese though, when somepony came stumping through the woods to her. Three guesses who it is. Your first clue, he's old. “Shurrup,” the stallion muttered. “Excuse me?” said Pinkie, looking up from her snack. “Oh? Nothing,” grumbled the stallion, stumping closer. He sat down besides Pinkie, wrapping his old, tattered cloak around him. “Can can I help you?” she said, smiling tentatively. “Maybe,” he said, giving her a sidelong glance. “I know for a fact I can help you.” Pinkie raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?” “I mean, that I have expertise in the field of aeronautical design.” Pinkie's expression didn't change. “I can help you build your flying ship.”          “How did you know I was-” she began. “Never you mind. Point is, I can help you.” Pinkie's face lit up. “Well, let's get started then!” “First thing's first,” said the old stallion, raising a hoof to calm her. “It's a shame to start work on an empty stomach, don't you think?” Pinkie looked down at her cheese and bread. It wasn't much, to be sure. Barely enough for herself, really. And building a flying ship would be hard work... She broke the bread and cheese and passed half to the old stallion. He took it and chewed it. Pinkie joined him, chewing her own. And you really did have to chew it. It wasn't the fine white bread and wonderful soft cheese you get nowadays, this was in the days before weather maintenance was so common and before the Glascow agreement opened up the dairy market. It was tough half-stale bread and hard cheese, but they ate it all the same. The old stallion smacked his lips as he finished. “Wonderful stuff,” he said, with a grin. “Now, let's see about this ship of yours...” So they worked. Well, Pinkie worked, all that afternoon, all night, and all the following morning, while the stallion shouted the directions to her. “Should be perpendicular!” “You didn't bring a protractor?” “That is easily the worst bevelled edge I have ever seen.” “Nearly only counts in horseshoes and hoof-grenades! Get it exact!” Knowing that, you can perhaps see why it took them so long, but by the end of it, there stood a fine ship resting on two tree stumps. It didn't gleam gold in the afternoon light, nor carry any great arsenal of weapons, but Pinkie knew it was a good ship because it was hers. She scrambled up to the wheel, but the old stallion stayed on the ground. “Aren't you coming with me?” she hollered down. “No, I'll stay where I am,” he shouted back. “You take your ship on to the King, and show him what's what!” “I will!” Pinkie shouted back with a grin. “And remember, wherever you go, pick up every traveller you see on the way!” “I WILL!” And the ship lifted into the sky. *        *        * What sights! What a view! For Pinkie, the Taiga Woods were the world. Trees from dawn 'til dusk was what she knew. She'd never been beyond it in her life, but now it was spread out below her like a green blanket draped over the land. More importantly, she could see the edge of the forest. Beyond it, lay long rolling hills, which gradually led to sharp snow-covered mountains, and beyond that, if you squinted and the clouds weren't in the way, you could just about make out the long white spire of the Krummlin. Pinkie spun the wheel and swung the ship around. The sails cracked, and the ship sped along high over the woods. It dipped low over the trees, firs brushing the hull as it cleared the edge and flew over the farmland beyond. She was quite happily enjoying sight-seeing, when something caught her eye. A pony was trudging along the road below her. Pinkie considered breezing on by but, well, she'd said she'd pick up travellers, so that's what she did. She swung the ship down and brought it down right in front of the pony, who turned out to be a purplish unicorn. The landing... wasn't perfect. The hull scraped along the ground throwing up clouds of dust and dirt, and the anchor tore a rut across the road. When the ship ground to a halt, it listed to one side. Pinkie rushed over to the side and peered over. There was a coughing and spluttering from below and a face looked up, frowning curiously. “I'm sorry!” said Pinkie, quickly. “I've never flown one of these things before!” “Don’t worry,” said the unicorn, patting herself down, “no harm done.” Then, giving Pinkie a quizzical look, she said “Are you heading to the Krummlin by any chance?” “Yep!” said Pinkie, grinning back. “I'm going to present this ship to the King, and he'll grant me his daughter's hoof in marriage and half the empire!” The unicorn's expression only became more quizzical. “What a coincidence, I'm going to present my skills at magic to the King's court. I'm a magician by trade you see, and I need to get to the Krummlin. You couldn't give me a lift, could you?” “Sure!” said Pinkie. “Hop on board!” The unicorn levitated herself up onto the deck, and neat as you like. Pinkie was open-mouthed in surprise. “How'd you do that?” she asked. “Oh, self-levitation's not so hard,” she said, checking a hoof idly. “Once you figure out how to open a box with the key on the inside, it's foal's play.” The unicorn looked up at Pinkie and smiled. “Oh, but where are my manners! They call me Sparkle where I'm from, on account of me being such a bright spark.” “I'm Pinkie,” said Pinkie. “Nice to meet you,” said Sparkle. “Right, let's get going, shall we?” “Yes, right, let's.” Pinkie took to the wheel again, expecting the ship to lift itself up, but it didn't. It stayed quite resolutely grounded. “Oh. Oh dear.” “Having trouble starting it?” said Sparkle. “Don't worry, I've read about this. Common problem with flying ships is they need jump-starting. If you land them they tend to stay landed.” “Jump-starting...?” Pinkie ventured. “Yes,” said Sparkle. “Like this.” And like that, she planted her hooves on the deck, her horn glowed, and the ship rose up. The wind caught the sails and the ship strained at it's anchor. “How'd you do that?” Pinkie asked incredulously. “Oh, lifting ships isn't so hard,” said Sparkle, smiling. “Not after you realise that everything falls at the same speed, no matter how much it weighs.” Pinkie raised the anchor and they took off towards the Krummlin. Soon they were flying over orchards, row after row of apple trees bearing ripe red fruit. Pinkie considered flying low enough to pluck a few off, but she didn't trust herself to start stunt-flying just yet. It was just as well she was flying high, because that meant she saw the second traveller, labouring down the road with two, no, four saddlebags full of apples. Pinkie swung the ship alongside her, accidentally mowing down an apple tree in the process. “Sorry!” she shouted down to the mare on the road. She was a fellow earth pony, as it happened, wearing a rather ratty leather hat. “Now what in tarnation is all this?” the mare shouted back up. “We're going to the Krummlin,” said Pinkie, peering over the side of the ship. “How about you?” “Me?” said the mare. “I'm looking for something to eat.” Pinkie raised an eyebrow. “You're carrying your own body weight in apples, though.” “Three times my body weight, actu'lly,” she said with a smirk. “But that ain't no thang. I could eat all these apples and still be hungry.” Pinkie decided not to press the issue. “Well, would you like a lift to the Krummlin? I'm sure there'll be plenty to eat there.” “If'n you say so,” said the mare. She hoisted herself up the anchor chain, saddlebags and all. The ship dipped and wobbled as she came aboard, but Pinkie kept the nose up. Pinkie offered her a hoof. “I'm Pinkie,” she said, “and this is my ship.” “Nice t'meetcha,” said the mare. “They call me Applejack, on account of my prowess at growin' apples.” “And eating them, I shouldn't wonder,” Sparkle mumbled, but Applejack was polite enough not to hear. And on they flew. Past the orchards, there were valleys, little neat ones with streams running along the bottom. All was quiet and tranquil, with only the hush of the wind in the grass. Pinkie was feeling quite restful, when suddenly the sail creaked in the breeze. There was a high pitched squeal, and a yellow pegasus shot up besides the ship. Pinkie brought them to a halt. “What's wrong?” she said to the pegasus, who was hovering nervously. “Oh, no, nothing, nothing serious,” she said, her mane falling across her face. “I was just listening to a hummingbird when your ship creaked and startled me.” “Wait a moment,” said Sparkle, shouldering forward. “There's no hummingbirds in the Crystal Empire!” “Oh? Aren't there? I'm sorry,” said the pegasus, quietly. “I must've been listening to one in the Amarezon then.” “But that's thousands of miles away!” Sparkle protested. “Please, could you be a little quieter, if you wouldn't mind? My ears are very sensitive.” “I'll say,” said Applejack, joining them on the side of the ship. “What do they call you, then?” “They call me Flutter,” she said. “How would you fancy coming with us to the Krummlin?” said Pinkie. “Oh I couldn't,” she whispered. “The big city is much too loud. I'd much rather stay here in peace and quiet.” “But surely you'll want to see the capital,” said Pinkie, earnestly. “The great library!” said Sparkle. “The famous restaurants!” said Applejack. “The zoo?” said Pinkie, out of desperation. Flutter looked up slowly, giving Pinkie a sidelong look. “A... zoo...? Like... with animals?” “I assume so,” said Pinkie. Flutter dashed on deck in an instant. “Okay then,” she said, smiling ear to sensitive ear. “Full steam ahead!” Everypony on deck looked at her. “Well... if you don't mind.” Pinkie took to the wheel again, spinning them to point towards the Krummlin. The ship flew on, over the valleys and on to the moors, where sheer cliffs stuck out and threatened to shred the ship if she made one error. Pinkie had to take the ship up to avoid running aground as they rose into the mountains. She was carefully avoiding one particularly nasty looking cliff when the ship hit a cloud. Well rather, they rose through it, but there was a thud as it met the deck in puff of vapour. “Mrfrgl” came a voice from inside the cloud. Then, as the voice woke up, “Whzzt?” Pinkie stepped forward. Lying on the deck, looking exactly like someone who's just been rudely awoken, was another pegasus. Her coat was rather a fetching shade of baby blue, but her mane looked like she styled it by sticking it in a bucket of rainbow. She rolled over slowly, revealing her two wings tied down against her body. “Whass going on?” she mumbled. “Er, you've just come aboard my ship,” said Pinkie. “Welcome?” “Ship? What's a ship doing up here?” asked the pegasus. “It's a flying ship,” said Pinkie. “I'm taking it to the Krummlin to see the King to get the hoof of the Princess in marriage and half the empire.” “That right?” she muttered. “Sounds fine by me. I guess I'll come for the ride, then.” Flutter padded over. “Excuse me, ma'am,” she said, quietly (as if she had any other way of saying anything), “but why are your wings tied up?” “Huh? Oh, that's 'cause I'm so fast,” she said, with a yawn. “If I don't tie my wings behind my back, I could fly around the world with one flap. 'S why they call me Dash.” “Well, welcome aboard then, Dash!” said Pinkie, cheerily. “Make yourself at home!” “'Kay,” said Dash, curling up on the foredeck and going to sleep. So on they flew up over the moors, and soon they were over the pine woods that clustered around the foot of the mountains. Snow lay thick on the trees, and everypony's breath misted as the ship glided over the treetops. All was eerily silent, until a sudden shout interrupted it. “Hey! You there!” Pinkie rushed to the side with everypony else (making the ship list to one side. It was riding a little lower now) to see what the commotion was about. There, perched at the top of a pine tree, was a white-grey unicorn mare, hanging on with one hoof and waving frantically with another. Her back was laden with saddlebags, and she was wearing a fabulously embroidered jacket. Pinkie steered closer. When she was within a foot of the tree, the unicorn hopped aboard as neat as you like. “Ah, thank goodness, I thought no one was coming,” she said, patting herself down. “Were you expecting someone?” said Pinkie, quizzically. “Well, not as such,” said the unicorn, taking off her bags and dumping them on the deck. “But I was rather hoping for a lift to the Krummlin with a passing pegasus or griffon. You see, I've come across something rather fine, that I think the nobles will simple fall over themselves to buy.” She opened one of her saddlebags and took out a bolt of pale blue cloth. It sparkled in the sunlight. Pinkie reached forward to touch it, and found it ice cold. “Snow silk,” said the unicorn, smiling broadly. “Woven from the high ice of the mountains. It'll fetch a mint in the capital.” “It's incredible,” said Pinkie, staring at it. She looked up. “Welcome aboard, then!” “Thank you, Captain...?” “Pinkie,” she said, offering a hoof. “Captain Pinkie,” said the unicorn, smiling. “You may call me Rarity, because rarities are my trade.” And so they flew on. Soon, the trees thinned and they rose into the mountains. And there things got interesting. The wind blew and the snow flew in flurries, battering the little ship this way and that, and Pinkie was barely able to keep an even keel. Her passengers wrapped themselves in a spare sail, huddling together for warmth, but Pinkie stayed at the helm. She knew, if she could just get over these mountains, then the Krummlin would be in sight, and the Princess would be hers. On they flew through the blizzard, and slowly it began to clear. The ship started to descend, out of the clouds and snow and mountains until there it was. The Krummlin stood out in the centre of the capital, shining like the half-mile high shard of quartz it was. The ship flew slowly towards it over farms and soft rolling tundra, and the passengers amused themselves. Sparkle calculated the area of each field in square metres, while Applejack calculated the crop yield in square meals. Flutter peered cautiously over the edge, watching the birds fly past while Rarity pondered whether she could paint a message on the side of the ship saying 'For curios, jewellery and fine fashion, come to Rarity's Rarities'. Meanwhile, Dash was still sleeping on the deck. Pinkie was just bringing the ship down to give her passengers a better view when somepony fluttered up beside the ship. Pinkie looked across and saw a grey pegasus with a blonde mane. On her back, she carried a bundle of sticks. Well, it was a little more than a bundle really, more of a half-ton. She was straining under the weight. “Excuse me,” Pinkie said to her. “Do you need a hoof with that?” The pegasus looked over to Pinkie with one eye. The other stared off at cross-purposes. “Yes, please,” she said, puffing and panting. She fluttered on to deck and dropped her wood on the deck. The ship dropped and lurched alarmingly. “Do you really need all that wood?” said Dash, who'd been rudely awoken by the turbulence. “This is no ordinary wood,” said the newcomer. “Wherever I lay this wood, an army will spring up. I'm taking it to the Krummlin as a gift to the King.” “Well, come with us,” said Pinkie. “We're going that way.” The pegasus fell to the deck, kneeling before Pinkie. “Oh thank you so much!” she said. “I don't know how much longer I would've lasted.” So on they flew, and soon they were out of the farmland and flying over the city itself. Ponies peered up at the ship, and peered all the harder when they saw the passengers. Rumours spread and runners were sent. At the palace, a guard rushed into the throne room. “Your grace!” he said, panting excitedly. “It's been done! Someone has built a flying ship! It's flying towards the Krummlin as we speak!” The King broke into a smile. Chancellor Sombra broke into a scowl. Princess Jade's face fell. They all rushed downstairs, flanked by armed and armoured guards. They can't really have done it, thought the Princess. Unicorn magic is all very well, but a ship flying by itself is pure science fiction. They trotted down the steps of the Krummlin just in time to see the ship touch down in the middle of the street. A crowd had already assembled to gawk in awe and wonder, and one of the passengers was already shouting about what fabulous discounts there were to be had at Rarity's Rarities. “Make way for the King!” shouted a guard, and everypony knelt. The guards shouldered a path through the crowd as a gangplank landed and the flying ship emptied. The seven passengers disembarked, and the King raised an eyebrow. Every single one was a mare. The passengers didn't kneel, earning them a disapproving look from the Chancellor. “Well!” said the King, putting on his biggest grin. “Who has built this fine-looking vessel?” All eyes turned to Pinkie, who stepped forward, head up and smiling. “I did, your highness,” she said. There was a ripple of mutters and whispers in the crowd. The King's eyes boggled. Sombra looked like he was about to faint. A mare? It was unheard of. The Princess, though? She was looking at this mare rather critically. She can't be much older than me, although she does look older, thought Jade. She could do with a good wash, mind. And a haircut. The mare smiled over at her, and the Jade blushed. She didn't even know she'd blushed until she realised she was looking away bashfully. Good lord, was she really looking away bashfully from some upstart from the provinces? She turned back and gave the mare an imperious stare that made her look a little hurt, and the Princess tried not to feel sorry for her. Sombra's mind, though, was on other things. Damage control for one. “Your grace,” said the Chancellor, breaking the Princess' train of thought, “this is clearly an extraordinary circumstance. Never before has a mare been offered the hoof of the Princess before.” “That's true,” said Sparkle, “but never before has it been offered in return for a flying ship.” Sombra gave her a glare. “Know your place!” he snapped. “Don't you tell her what to do!” said Applejack, stepping forward. “Why, she's as good as any o' y'!” Sombra looked like he was about to burst, when the King raise a hoof for silence. “It is indeed an unusual situation we find ourselves in,” he said, slowly. He may not have been a great thinker, but he sure spoke like one. “We will consult with our advisers on the matter. Until it has been resolved, the individuals in possession of this flying ship will stay at the palace, at our pleasure!” Pinkie smiled and her passengers cheered. Except for Rarity, who'd fainted dead away, a grin plastered over her face. So they were given rooms in the Krummlin. Fine silks, plush cushions, soft feather beds, hot and cold running water. To Pinkie this was a life of unimaginable luxury. She lay back on her bed and stared at the ceiling. I suppose when I marry the Princess, I'll get to live here permanently, she thought. Sure, she'd miss her old mum and dad, but she'd still take the time to visit them out in the Taiga woods, when royal business brought her there. She'd bring gifts for her parents, and even for her sisters. Actually, if she married the Princess, that technically made her the Prince, which meant she could offer her parents a place in the castle. And her sisters, of course. They could all live together under one roof, and never have to worry about draughts or stone soup again. Yes, she thought as she drifted into a doze. When I marry the Princess, things will all be alright. *        *        * “It is absolutely imperative that that mare does not marry the Princess,” said Sombra, pacing back and forth in front of the throne. The King was sitting passively, slouching a little while Princess Jade sat beside him attentively. Alright, she was thinking, this doesn't have to be a total disaster. You didn't know someone would actually manage to build a flying ship. “Can't you just say you didn't mean it?” she said, hopefully. “I mean, take it all back and pretend you never made that promise?” Sombra stared her down. He had the stare of a particularly disapproving leopard, if it were behind the desk at the DMV. “Your father is the King,” he said, slowly. “If he starts taking back promises, his word will mean nothing, which will mean mistrust, which will mean conflict which will mean war. Simply saying that it won't happen is not a solution.” Sombra went back to pacing, muttering to himself. Something about surrounding himself with idiots. Then, he stopped, and his face broke into a smile. “Ahh, I have an idea, your grace.” “Mm?” said the King, looking up sleepily. “We will set the suitor challenges,” he said. “If she fails any of them, then she will not marry the Princess, who can then marry the Prince of the Ottomare Empire, who I feel it should be noted, has been sending us threatening letters.” The King looked unconvinced. “I don't know. What if she passes these challenges?” “She won't,” said Sombra, his smile spreading into a grin, “because these challenges will be cunningly and ingeniously devised to be totally unwinnable by anypony on this good green earth.” “How do you know?” “Because,” said Sombra, grinning with all his teeth, “I'll invent them myself.” *        *        * Pinkie was woken by shaking. She opened her eyes and blinked blearily to see... “Come on, sugarcube,” said Applejack, “they're demandin' to see us downstairs.” Pinkie hopped up off the bed, trying to recollect the bits of the dream she'd just had as she followed Applejack downstairs. Something about the Princess in socks...  Soon they were joined by the other passengers on the stairs. Sparkle was complaining about being interrupted in the middle of some serious mathematics and Rarity was lamenting the loss of her beauty sleep, but everyone was silenced when they entered the grand hall. A single table dominated the room, but one was more than enough. Especially when they saw what was on it. Now, Pinkie was a pony of the Taiga Woods, used to going to bed hungry. She was aware that, somewhere in the world ponies ate things like nut roast and spinach roulade, she just never thought she'd be in that place. In fact, there was a good deal more than just nut roast and roulade on that table. There were roast parsnips, peppers stuffed with rice, dates, figs, great big boiling tureens of soups and lentil stews of every flavour imaginable. The smell of Hindi curries and Equestrian hay fries hung in the air together, and the colours were something else. Here was a pot of Sylvanian goulash as red as sunset, while over here was a steaming bowl of Ruritanian borscht as purple as crushed velvet. Pinkie stared, her mouth watering. “Hello my friends,” said Sombra, walking forwards and looking happier than a cat who's found a particularly slow mouse. “We have decided to put the captain of the flying ship to the test. If she is to marry Princess Jade, then she will have to pass a few challenges. The first of which,” he said, gesturing to the groaning table, “is to eat every last scrap.” Pinkie's jaw dropped. I mean, she was hungry, sure, and had lived in a state of hunger for most of her life, but this? She knew there were limits. “Any questions?” he said, still smiling at all and sundry, taking in their dropped jaws and expressions of disbelief. “Good. See you again when you've finished. Or when you give up. Whichever comes sooner.” And with that, he left. Pinkie padded forward to the table, eyeing it suspiciously. “I don't like the look a' him,” said Applejack. “He's no good.” “I think you're missing the point,” said Sparkle, stepping forward. “And the point is that unless all this food goes, Pinkie won't marry her Princess!” Sparkle eyed up the table critically. “Hmmm, maybe an invisibility spell until we can find a better way to dispose of it-” “NO!” shouted Applejack, aghast. “Y'can't just waste food like that!” She cast her eye up and down the table critically. “Only one thing to do, with a sitch-oo-way-shun like this.” She sat herself down at the head of the table, tying the tablecloth around her neck for a bib. “I'll eat it all for y',” she said, rubbing her hooves together. “You really think you could?” said Pinkie, in no small amount of awe. “It'd be my pleasure.” So Applejack got stuck in. It would be sordid to describe how she went about it, but suffice to say, half an hour later the table was clear, every plate was clean and Rarity had fainted again. “The horror...” she was murmuring. “The senseless carnage...” Flutter was just trying to revive her when Sombra strolled back in. He saw the empty plates and the hollow tureens, each one fastidiously licked clean, and his face went from smug to astonished in 0.2 seconds. “But... how?” he managed. Pinkie for her part, simply shrugged and smiled. Sombra, on the other hand, was fuming. Of course, he'd planned for this eventuality, so Sombra took them along to the royal bath house. After such a journey and such a meal, he'd said, surely Pinkie would like a bath to clean her up and relax her, to which Pinkie replied she'd never had a bath before but would be intrigued to try one. Sombra tried a forced chuckle. “Of course,” he said, smiling a more honest (if slightly more disconcerting) smile “as one of your challenges, the bath will be boiling hot. I hope you don't mind.” Pinkie flapped her mouth to object, but Sombra swanned off again out of the bath house, humming to himself. Pinkie stared into the bath house door as it was made ready. Inside, two burly earth ponies were chopping wood and building a big fire under a huge black iron tub. Already flames were licking up the sides of it. “Oh, now that's hardly sporting,” said Rarity, peering inside. “I'm gonna be boiled alive, aren't I?” said Pinkie. “Nonsense,” said Rarity. “This miscarriage of justice cannot go unthwarted!” With that, she levitated a length of freezing cold material. Gently, she laid it across Pinkie's back. “Put that in the bath, and you'll be fine.” Pinkie took it in with her, trying to ignore her numbing  back. The top of the tub was bubbling and frothing and Pinkie was on the verge of turning tail and giving up, but she had faith in her friends assertion.. She laid the fabric on the water and in an instant, it cooled, hissing and steaming. She stepped in after it and, well, the water was as pleasant and warm as you like. She settled in, shrugging her shoulders happily. The two ponies fuelling the fire weren't going to be dissuaded, though. They knew what Chancellor Sombra wanted, and they weren't going to disappoint him. So they kept heaping wood on the fire. One stabbed at it with a poker while the other worked a pair of bellows. Slowly, the water got hotter and hotter, and Pinkie started to fidget. Quick as a flash, Rarity threw another bolt of silk in for Pinkie, and the water cooled. So the ponies started to pile on more wood and blow with the bellows. So Rarity threw in another bolt. And so on and so on and so on. By the time she ran out of silk, the two earth ponies were exhausted, lying limply on the floor. Pinkie by comparison, was looking as fresh as a daisy. “Now, are you quite finished trying to boil my friend alive?” said Rarity, giving the two fireponies a harsh look. They murmured that they were. They were loyal to the Chancellor, but not that loyal. Pinkie hopped out of the bath and towelled herself down. It was only then that she looked back into the bath, and saw all the precious million-bit snow-silk had melted. She turned to Rarity and grimaced. “Sorry.” Rarity shook her head. “It's quite alright,” she said, smiling as best she could. “I... I can always find more.” Pinkie strolled out of the bath house, her companions behind her, straight into Chancellor Sombra. And the King, and the Princess. And a ring of guards. “I see you've bested the second challenge,” said the King. He glanced quizzically at Sombra. “I assume you have the third and final challenge?” “I do,” said Sombra, glaring swords at Pinkie (he was long past daggers now). He cleared his throat. “The final challenge is as follows. You are to fetch the water of the spring of life and death, in the land of Sandmarkand.” “Where's that?” said Pinkie. Sombra waved a hoof vaguely. “Oh, about two thousand miles that way. Collect the waters, and return here in one hour.” Pinkie's jaw dropped. An hour? There was no way! She was about to say 'no, this is impossible, when a voice spoke up behind her. “An hour? You think I need an hour to do it?” It was Dash. Her wings were straining against the ropes tying them down. Sombra gave her a smile. “You think you could do it faster?” he said, an hourglass in his hoof. “In seconds,” she said, grinning. She turned to Pinkie. “Untie my wings, and I'll get you the water.” Pinkie untied her wings and gave Dash two jugs to carry the water in. “Very well, then. Begin.” Sombra turned the hourglass, and sand started to flow. “Watch this,” she said, with a grin. And like that, she shot up into the air. She turned to face south-east and shot off in a flash of technicolour light. Going at the speed she was (i.e., something like twice the speed of sound and about half the speed of awesome), she passed over the lands of the Crystal Empire and soon enough she was blitzing over the deserts of Sandmarkand. She did one pass over, eyes peeled for the spring, then went back for another. On the third, she saw a little patch of green in amongst the brown. She swooped down and sure enough, it was the spring, surrounded with big trees with broad leaves. She landed heavily on her hooves and trotted over to the spring. She filled the jugs then... stopped. The shade of the trees around the spring was rather fine, truth be told. The weather was very warm, and Dash had been flying for miles. Her wings ached and her eyes stung. A little rest in the shade couldn't do any harm. So she lay down, curled up, and drifted off to sleep... Meanwhile, at the Krummlin, consternation ruled. “Where can she be?” “I knew something like this would happen, I just knew it!” “Never send a pegasus to do a unicorn's job!” “Ah knew there wuz somethin' wrong with her.” “Everyone, I think I can hear someth-” “The hourglass is already three quarters gone! How long can it really take her?” “I think I know where-” “I can't believe she'd-” “SHUT! UP!” Silence fell. All eyes turned to Flutter, who coughed politely. “I was just trying to tell you, I can hear her,” she said, in a voice that could maybe be a whisper when it grew up. “I can hear her snoring, and I can hear running water, so she must be asleep at the spring.” Sparkle put a hoof on her chin. “Hmmm, we need to wake her up then.” “But how?” Sparkle smiled slowly. “I might just have an idea. Flutter, which direction is she in?” Flutter pointed and Sparkle nodded. She levitated a stone and closed one eye. “Eighty degree, parabolic trajectory, n=a/m squared,” she muttered, “allowing for atmospheric pressures, wind speed, Coriolis effect...” Her magic stretched like elastic, drawing the stone back. “And, with a little luck...” TWANG. The stone rocketed up into the air. It flew high over the city, over the mountains, over all of the Crystal Empire until it started to descend. It fell quickly to earth over Sandmarkand, zeroing in on the spring of life and death, then on a blue pegasus sleeping under the trees. THONK. “OW!” Dash sat bolt upright. How long had she been asleep? Wasn't there something she was supposed to be... The jugs! The water! The challenge! Oh bugger! She leapt to her hooves and sped off. Over the desert, over the dunes, over the Crystal Empire, smashing barriers of sound, magic and anything else dumb enough to get in her way. She gritted her teeth and pressed on as the world ahead went blue and the world behind went red. She stopped at the Krummlin and sped down, landing in the courtyard in a cloud of dust. Out of the dust, Dash strolled forwards, one jug balanced on either wing. She laid them on the ground in from of Sombra with a little chink, just as the last grain of sand tumbled through the hourglass. “Hey Chancellor, I got you a drink,” she said, with a truly insufferable grin. Sombra snorted and gritted his teeth.. “A test, I believe is in order. To ensure these really are the waters of life and death.” He clapped his hooves and a songbird was brought forth in a cage. The water of death was poured over it and, well, it died( which made Flutter well up and whimper). Then, they tested the water of life on it. Sombra's eye twitched as the bird flapped back up onto it's perch, well as could be and Flutter insisted she have a look at it to see that it was still okay. “It would seem we've beaten all your challenges, Chancellor,” said Pinkie, grinning. “Seems so,” he said, nodding, his face blank. “Seems so.” He turned to the guards. “Seize her.” “Wait, wha-” she managed, before the Crystal guards descended. One hoofed her in the stomach and another threw her over his back while she wheezed for breath. Dash tried to beat them off, but they pinned her down with weight and numbers. Rarity fainted away and Flutter was restrained without a fight. Sparkle and Applejack did their best, but neither magic nor brute strength could save them. “The executions will be tomorrow,” said Sombra, simply. They were all taken to their rooms, and kept under lock, key and guard. *        *        * In the throne room, Sombra and the King were in a spot of bother. Princess Jade wasn't taking the news well. “Listen, it's for the best,” said Sombra, hooves out, trying to calm her. “For the best? You're going to have them executed and you're telling me it's for the best?” shouted the Princess. “Whatever happened to 'we can't just break our promises', eh?” Sombra sighed. “That pony has to die, for the good of the nation. This country needs an heir, and we can't let some little competition get in the way of that.” “So what am I?” the Princess said. “Just some pedigree dog to be sold off to the highest bidder?” The King wilted under the tirade, but Sombra kept his expression of insufferable nobility. “The future of the empire depends upon your marriage.” The Princess huffed and stormed out. She managed to stay in a huff all the way into her bedroom. As is traditional, she threw herself on her bed and sulked. Why shouldn't she marry this mare, who came in on a flying ship, with her fluffy pink mane and strange friends? Why did Sombra have to be so unreasonable about it? What on earth is wrong with me? What am I doing worrying about her all of a sudden? She fumed at the unfairness of it all. *        *        * Pinkie slumped on her bed despondently. Well, this was the end of the line, she supposed. No royal wedding, no living in luxury for the rest of her days. Just a short trip out into the yard and a quick bit of axe work. No chance to say goodbye to mum or dad, or even Blinky or Inky. She bit her lip. Now wasn't the time to cry. She was distracted by a tap at her window, which was odd because she was was on the fifteenth floor. She hopped off the bed and trotted over. Hovering just outside the window was a grey pegasus with blonde hair, a big roll of wood on her back and eyes that seemed to be having a disagreement with each other. “You!” said Pinkie as she opened the window. “What are you doing here?” “I've come to help you,” she said, smiling. “But... why didn't you get captured?” The pegasus shrugged. “They didn't spot me when they arrested us. I'm good at blending into the background, you see, but that's not important. What is important is the plan.” “Alright,” said Pinkie. Then, after a pause, “What is the plan?” “You remember what I told you about this wood?” said the pegasus, grinning. “I'll lay it all around the Krummlin tonight. In the morning, we'll have an army. With it, I'll storm the palace and free you.” Pinkie laughed. “Brilliant!” The pegasus turned to go, but Pinkie called after her. “Wait! I don't even know your name!” “Call me Doo!” she called back. She flipped an eyepatch down over her left eye. “General Doo!” *        *        * So all that night, Doo went around the palace, laying the wood out in neat, regimented rows in the streets. She muttered to herself as she worked. “1st lancers here, 12th and 17th light infantry on the left flank, 22nd Guards regiment in the centre...” A few night-watchponies saw her, but paid her no heed. She was, after all, very good and blending into the background. * * * The next morning, Chancellor Sombra woke up feeling unusually good about his life. He hopped out of bed, certain that today of all days would be a good day. He strolled over to the window, ready to take a nice breath of fresh air to start his day. He heaved the big panes open and stopped. There, standing in the streets around the Krummlin, was an army. Hard-faced ponies in thick armour, pegasi lancers fluttering their wings impatiently, unicorns sparking their horns like flints. His jaw dropped. At the head of the army, a grey pegasus in golden armour flew, an eyepatch over one eye. “King Diamond!” she shouted, her single yellow eye flashing with anger. “I demand to speak to the King or his representative!” Sombra straightened his back. “That would be me!” he shouted back. “The representative, I mean.” The pegasus hovered up to him, flanked by two lancers carrying banners. On the banners was a symbol of two crossed twigs. “I demand that you release your prisoners this instant, or I will free them by force!” The question of 'you and what army' wilted on Sombra's lips. “I... I will speak to the King on the matter,” he said, backing into his room and fleeing to the King's quarters. The discussion was brief, and contained the phrase 'what were you thinking you idiot' a lot on both sides. At the end of it though, Sombra came out with the prisoners. “Under the, ah, circumstances,” he said, head hung low, “I have- the king has decided that it would be wisest to surrender the Krummlin to you. We pass the prisoners into your care, and the promise of marriage will be upheld.” There was a mighty cheer from the assembled troops, and from Pinkie and her friends. So that's how it was. The marriage was arranged within a week, and although everyone agreed it was a very odd thing for a Princess to marry a mare, they also saw the sense in it. After all, a promise had been made. The Ottomare Empire kicked up a fuss about it, and war looked on the cards for a few weeks, but a show of force by General Doo (relishing her new position) put paid to that. Everypony settled into life at the Krummlin. Sparkle became the court sorceress, feared and respected, Rarity became a tailor by royal appointment, making the finest clothes for the finest ponies, and Applejack settled down to a farm just outside the city. Flutter was a little disappointed to find there wasn't a zoo in the Crystal Empire, but she that didn't stop her from making one. Dash formed the first flight display team in the Crystal Empire, and she gained a reputation for both incredible daring and remarkable laziness. And Pinkie? Well, Pinkie did as she said she would. Her family were invited to come and live in the Krummlin and spend their days in luxury. Inky and Blinky agreed without a second thought, but her parents stayed behind. It wouldn't do, they said, to go rushing around at this time of their lives. So Pinkie settled down to the business to ruling half an empire. And, when in the fullness of time King Diamond left the throne, she ruled  the whole thing lock, stock and barrel, helped of course by her friends, her family, and her loving wife. Oh, and one last thing, I almost forgot. Chancellor Sombra didn't keep his job as Chancellor. He was exiled in short order, but that didn't keep him down. After all, revenge is a dish best served when they least expect it.