//------------------------------// // 4: Into the Mists // Story: A King Unmatched // by Mister Friendly //------------------------------// It was a very somber group that gathered around an oblong table of exquisite craftsmanship. Intricate designs were carved along the whole perimeter and inlaid with gold filaments that glittered and danced in the light of the slowly swinging lantern overhead. Even the walls glimmered. Great tapestries covered in golden-flecked paints seemed to shimmer in the trembling firelight. They remained just barely out of sight, though; unintelligible shadows of color and glitter that looked disturbing like eyes watching the room at large. But nopony was there to admire the work of Neighpon artisans. Twilight, Fluttershy, Rainbow Dash, Applejack, Rarity and a still-yawning Pinkie Pie shuffled in as confidently as they could behind the silent Imperial stallion who had yet to say a single thing. Inside, Twilight’s mind was abuzz with possibilities and probabilities, but even she had to admit that she had little to no idea what to expect the stoic officer would tell them. After witnessing the monstrous sea creature – the Kaiju – she fully suspected that most of the assumptions she’d made were about to come unraveled. The officer didn’t motion towards the table, but the group of friends assembled around it anyway, unbidden, while the officer himself moved to the other end. For a moment, Twilight glanced around the room, taking in the otherworldly glittering tapestries that lined the walls, and tried very hard not to believe the snarling faces she saw were genuine. Behind the officer was what looked like a cabinet of some sort, yet it was perhaps the most auspicious thing in the room. Even in shadows, it drew Twilight’s eye. It looked like some kind of tiny house, with a steepled roof, two large doors on the front, and some manner of thick cord wrapped around the whole thing. She was drawn back to reality when the stallion stopped and faced them squarely in her line of sight. “I want to make myself perfectly clear,” he stated, his voice sounding unnaturally flat to the group’s ears. “I have orders that it will be the venerable Emperor himself that will explain the situation to you once we arrive. When I say this conversation is over, it is over, and you shall not receive anything more from me. Understood?” Twilight tried not the grimace. Some of her other friends, Rainbow in particular, were not so diplomatic. “But –” “However,” the officer continued, speaking right over her. He turned to look at her, eyes nothing more than glints behind his fearsome helmet. “It is my sworn duty, above all else, to protect the Emperor and the Empire. And the longer this… monster roams my homeland unchecked, the more I fail in my duty.” Twilight didn’t need to hear the true inflection of the stallion’s voice to know the weight with which he spoke his words. His whole body moved with the emphasis he piled on each word, even if it didn’t align with what they were hearing. It was the first time, Twilight noted, he’d ever shown any more emotion than icy disdain. “I love my homeland, Princess Sparkle,” he said, eyes locked on her. “It has been my honor to serve her. And I will do what needs to be done to preserve her and her honor. So…” With a grunt, he sat. “Ask your questions.” Twilight glanced at her friends, sharing a looks in kind. For a moment, they said nothing, simply because they hadn’t yet thought of what to say. But it didn’t take Twilight long to come up with something. “Well… First, I’d like to know your name,” she said simply. Hopefully the translation spell sounded just as monotone to him as he did to them, because she didn’t much cherish the pathetically anti-climactic way she said it. The stallion looked at her. Either he stunned by her gall or honestly taken aback. “… Tezuka,” he said simply. “You may call me Tezuka.” Twilight nodded, trying to be polite. “I will. Thank you, Tezuka. Now then…” She leaned forward across the table, her full attention coming to rest on the armored stallion. “What can you tell us about this creature? Not the one from before, but the one you wrote Princess Celestia about?” Another pause. Twilight was starting to think that maybe it wasn’t surprise that was stalling Tezuka, but possibly something else entirely. It was a full four seconds before he even moved again, as if only then formulating what to say. “In a way,” he said gruffly, “they are very similar.” Twilight tried not to be rocked by that. The idea that what they were going up against could be just as terrifying as that Kaiju – or worse – was a pill she’d rather not swallow. “How?” she asked. “It’s hard to imagine anything scarier than that Kaiju we just saw.” Twilight felt the questioning eyes of all but one of her friends turn to her, but she didn’t have the time to recount their encounter with the monstrous sea creature. Tezuka thought for a moment. Was he trying to choose his words carefully now? Honestly, he was so hard to read with the visor of his helmet down. “We believe the creature that is besieging us is a Kaiju, similar to the beast you saw for yourself,” he said. “It is the first one seen inside the Empire in over sixty years. But this one… We have never seen it’s like before.” Twilight gulped, her worst fears confirmed. It was going to be as bad as she thought. “What kind of defense does the Empire have against Kaijus?” She asked. “If you’ve encountered them before, surely you have some way of fighting back.” Tezuka just looked at her, like she’d just spouted the most asinine thing he’d ever heard. “We are used to dealing with Kaiju on occasion,” he answered. “This ship was pulled from the hunting fleet responsible for eliminating their kind wherever they turn up.” Across the table, Fluttershy paled, her eyes shooting open wide. “E-eliminate…?” she squeaked. Tezuka continued like he hadn’t heard her tremulous voice – which he likely hadn’t. “However, the Empire hasn’t seen a Kaiju for over sixty years. Without an objective, the fleet grew smaller and smaller. We… were not ready for an attack of this magnitude.” Twilight frowned to herself. Sixty years was an awfully long time… what had changed? It wasn’t much, but she’d had worse leads to work with. For the moment, she filed it away in her head, to be pondered over later. “So far,” Tezuka went on, “nothing has been able to stop it. Many good ponies have paid great sacrifices to ensure others can get to safety. But this is not a war we can sustain. Whatever forces the Emperor has left have been withdrawn to defend the Imperial City.” Twilight felt a jolt run through her. “But… what about everypony outside of the city?” she asked, yet somehow she knew the answer. It was a good thing Tezuka still wore his helmet. Somehow, Twilight knew she wouldn’t have liked the look he was giving. “If I had to guess,” he said, “That is why he chose to call on Equestria for aid. We do not have the resources to be everywhere… not anymore. We… have few other options.” Silence permeated the cabin. Six mares glanced between one another, exchanging apprehensive looks. Fluttershy, especially, looked like she’d been slapped in the face. Twilight kept her head forward. She was quickly processing the information she was getting as fast as she could. She had suspected it would be grim news, but she was starting to realize that it was perhaps worse than she’d feared. But even if it wasn’t particularly good information, she still needed it. Even a small piece could solve a larger puzzle. “You mentioned that it is unlike anything your country has ever faced before,” she said. “Do you know where it came from?” Tezuka shook his head. “I do not. Nopony does. Kaiju used to appear without warning inside our borders. Usually the first we ever know of their presence is when an island is attacked.” Twilight frowned to herself, but she didn’t say anything. But surely there could have been some safety measure they could have introduced. Still… it was Best to avoid argument for the time being, so she held her tongue. “Some think they have a way to penetrate our barrier from the outside world,” Tezuka went on, “I say they have been here all along. Nothing makes it through the barrier without the Empire’s say-so. And then sixty years ago, the Kaiju stopped appearing altogether. We thought they were all extinct, but… This latest one proves we were wrong.” He leaned onto the table with an elbow, not quite meeting Twilight’s gaze for the first time, as if lost in thought. “At first, we thought it was a Big Wave. One of our villages on the fringe of the Empire was hit… hard. But then it happened again, and again… Until we had a confirmed sighting of a massive Kaiju moving from island to island, using the cover of storms to mask its approach and leaving a path of destruction behind it. The Emperor dispatched the hunting fleet to deal with the threat, but we were… unsuccessful.” Twilight mulled that over for a moment. “And… where is the rest of the hunting fleet now?” Tezuka looked at her square in the face, then raised a hoof and gestured around. “You’re looking at it.” All of the color bled out of Twilight’s face. “W…What?” Tezuka set his hoof back down, slowly, as if worn out. “Whatever ships survived were conscripted by the Empire to defend the capital. The rest of us were charged to hunt down this threat… or die trying.” “That’s…” Twilight gagged, unable to process it. A single, lone ship was expected to accomplish what an entire fleet could not? “And you… are okay with that?” Twilight didn’t need to see Tezuka’s expression to know he was glaring at her. The atmosphere around him was enough. “I would want it no other way,” he said. The room when quiet. This time, the tension was almost palpable, and slow to abate. Luckily, Rarity was quick to recover. “Then it seems like we will have our work cut out for us,” she said. Tezuka glanced at her. “Indeed. I only hope your princess was not over-exaggerating your abilities.” Twilight nodded. “She’s not somepony who boasts,” she said quietly. “And even if she did, we’re here, now. We won’t give up until Neighpon is safe. You have our word.” Tezuka looked at her, mercurial as ever behind his helmet. He just stared for a few seconds, as if trying to size her up. “We will see,” he said. “I have already gambled with the lives of my men far too much, and seen too little become of it. What you will be up against has laid waste to whole armies, destroyed whole cities, and the best we have ever been able to do is slow it down. So you will pardon me if my faith in the abilities of six children is… lacking.” Twilight wanted to be indignant at that. A part of her was. But the part listening to Tezuka’s words couldn’t help but quail under the implications of what he was saying. Armies had been of no use. The kingdom responsible for some of the greatest innovations in magical theory… all but helpless against the threat it faced. Even in the most optimistic of situations, none of that sounded good. If only they still had the Elements of Harmony… But even as she was wavering inside, a familiar scoff cut the silence like a knife. “Pff, no sweat,” Rainbow boasted. “We’ve been through plenty of tight spots already.” “Don’t let our appearances fool you, sir,” Rarity said, lifting her noise. “Despite how we may look, we’ve been known to dabble in world-saving from time to time. It’s become something of a hobby, honestly.” “We may look as delicate as a wildflower to you folks,” Applejack put in, “but y’all would be hard pressed to find anypony more qualified than us. Just point us to ‘em and we’ll have this critter hogtied before lunch.” It was about the moment Applejack said ‘lunch’ that Pinkie suddenly snapped to full awareness faster than a lightbulb turning on. “Hay fries and a daffodil sandwich for me!” she cried. Everypony blinked at her, the room falling silent. While Rainbow mouthed the word “random” at Twilight, the alicorn turned back towards Tezuka, who was just recovering himself. She pushed aside a question about how exactly ‘daffodil sandwich’ would translate into a language that couldn’t have had words for either, and assumed her most orderly demeanor. “They’re right,” she said. “We’ve had plenty of experience dealing with some pretty nasty enemies in the past. I promise, we’ll do everything we can to save your homeland, Tezuka, even if nopony else has faith that we can.” Tezuka looked at her for a very long time indeed, motionless. Then, ever so slightly, his shoulders relaxed. “Be sure that you do, Princess Sparkle.” Twilight smiled slightly. It wasn’t much, but perhaps there still was hope to bridge centuries of animosity. Tezuka paused, as if catching his breath, then straightened up, all business once more. “Once we cross into the Empire, we will be stopping at a place called Odo Island – the first island to be attacked. We will see how good your word is afterwards.” Twilight did her best to quell the sense of unease crawling around in her chest. “Do you hope to find something there?” she asked. “You might,” Tezuka answered. “The villagers there have long worshipped a deity that they say guards their island. Perhaps their personal experience can aid you in some way.” “Fat lot of help that did them, by the sounds of it,” Rainbow grumbled, her expression uneasy, even nervous. Tezuka looked at her, candlelight flashing across his gleaming visor. “Indeed, especially since they believe it was that very same deity that attacked them.” Twilight’s eyes widened slightly in surprise. “Wait, so… ponies believe what’s attacking you… is a god?” Tezuka nodded stiffly. “Indeed. A god of vengeance, balance and authority. The shrine is small, like most for patron island deities. Normally I wouldn’t bother with their kind, but we must stop for resupply before we travel to the capital. And it might prove useful for you to see what this creature is capable of first-hoof before you encounter it.” Something caught Twilight’s attention, making her fight back a frown. Their kind? “Do you think we will find anything there?” she asked. Tezuka was silent for an even longer time than usual. He looked down, eying the table as he thought. “The folks there have… a story,” he said. He spoke slowly, carefully, as if uncertain about each word that left his mouth. “An old story held by the shrine that resides there. Then again, it could all be legend. At this point, I’m willing to resort to anything.” Twilight couldn’t help but feel confused by Tezuka’s remark. She was just opening her mouth to question further, when a new sound broke its way into the quiet room. A bell was ringing through the ship, distant and tinny, but audible. It was the first sound most of them had heard all night, and instantly it had ears perking up. Tezuka looked up sharply towards the door behind the six mares, his gaze intensifying. “It looks like this discussion is over, Princess Sparkle,” he said. “What? Why?” Twilight asked, doing a double take between Tezuka and the door. Tezuka was already rising. “Because we’re here.” ~~***~~ The first thing that ran through Twilight’s mind as she sprinted up onto the ship’s deck was confusion, multiplied five times over for the mares clambering behind her. “Uh… all I see is fog,” Rainbow mentioned, looking around. Her words were very literal. The entire ship was wreathed in thick, choking mists so dense they seemed virtually solid mass, impregnable even by the relit lanterns lining the railing. The mass was splitting around the fierce golden figurehead of the ship and rolling over it just high enough to leave a small, claustrophobic pocket over the deck where ponies could still see uninhibited from one end of the deck to the other. But there was nothing to see, not even remotely. Yet, while Twilight’s sight was of no use, her other senses were plenty keen. She had to steady herself as the ship beneath her began to slow so quickly it nearly threw her and her friends over. Sailors clambered around the deck hastily, carrying out their duties as fast as equinely possible; tying down rigging, shoring up the sails, all manner of things that Twilight couldn’t describe. She turned towards Tezuka, who was watching without comment while the rest of his crew worked at a feverish pace. “Tezuka, what’s going on?” “We’ve arrived,” he said again, turning to face straight forward. “This is the boundary between Neighpon and the rest of the world. Now, no more questions, all of you. If you wish to watch, do so quietly and from someplace that’s out of our way.” With that, he moved off, barking orders to the crew. “And just when Ah thought he was startin’ to lighten up,” Applejack grumbled. “Yeah, what’s his deal?” Rainbow griped. “If I had to guess,” Twilight mumbled, “about six hundred years of prejudice.” Obviously Rainbow didn’t like that response, but she said nothing further. The six mares shuffled off to one side, out of the way of more crewponies clambering up on deck, rubbing sleep from their eyes. They all watched in silence. More than once, their eyes drifted up towards the wall of fog splitting around them. How could they even know where they were going? Were they even on course anymore? There was something very unnatural about the thick banks of fog. Twilight could feel it. She may have been very new to the concepts of pegasus magic, but she at least knew how to read the winds and detect abnormalities in the air. Her senses were not tuned beyond tingles running up her spine and down her wings, but it was still identifiable. Now… there was nothing. No sense of anything at all. It wasn’t like the mass of grey, wet air was an illusion; it was like it simply denied any attempts to scrutinize it. Like, beyond the railing, reality itself simply… ended. “Is everything alright, darling?” Twilight snapped her head around in Rarity’s direction. But she wasn’t looking at Twilight; rather, she was just as intent on the clouds billowing around them, an uneasy frown on her face. “I… don’t know,” Twilight said back quietly. “I’ve… never felt ether like this before…” “Felt what?” Rainbow said, looking thoroughly confused. “Ambient magic,” Twilight said, waving a hoof dismissively. “The kind that’s sort of everywhere. Ambient magic is kind of a mouthful, so scholars just call it ‘ether’.” “Well… I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Rainbow admitted, shrugging, “All I know is… these clouds feel weird…” “U-uh-huh,” Fluttershy mumbled, peeking up through her mane. “I’ve never felt clouds like these before. Um… they are clouds, right?” “What else could they be?” Rainbow asked, quirking her head to one side. Applejack looked up, her eyes narrowing. “Ah don’t know about all that, but Ah ain’t ever seen fog this thick. Somethin’ awful weird is goin’ on around here, and Ah got a sneaking suspicion these Neighpon ponies have somethin’ to do with it.” Worry flashed through Twilight’s mind, but she had to force herself to trust in the Neighponese’ navigation skills. Surely they knew something she didn’t. That was when she heard a commotion. All six of them turned, just as a sailor came clambering up from below and jogged straight towards Tezuka. “She’s on her way up. Won’t be long now.” “’She’?” Rarity echoed. “Who in the world are they talking about? I haven’t seen any mares aboard besides us. Who in their right minds would? No offense to our hosts, but they lack a certain… feminine touch.” A few feet away, a sailor hocked a loogie overboard. “… To put it lightly,” Rarity finished, wrinkling her nose. Rarity did have a point. Considering the entire crew seemed to be made up of nothing but stallions, a mare should have stood out like a draconequus. Then again, none of them had been allowed to wander the ship, nor had they felt the desire to explore and stuck to the parts of the ship they knew. Not that they felt too scared to, but… the Neighponese were a rather intimidating bunch. Now, Twilight was starting to feel like that had been a poor choice on her part. Was Tezuka keeping something else from them? Twilight wanted very much to ask, but knew better of it. If the imperial said questioning was over, she knew it was over. Further commotion reached them from below deck, and every crew member abruptly scampered for the side railings, clearing the deck. All six mares listened and watched keenly as a figure glided into view. Instantaneously, Twilight knew this was no rough, uncouth sailor. Sailors didn’t tend to have clean, immaculate hooves and unblemished white fur, nor did they dress in breathtaking silken robes or wore elaborate fineries of pure gold. All six mares watched, transfixed, as this slender pony moved at an even pace across the deck, two mares close behind. Both mares were holding a length of thin, pure white cord that vanished underneath the silken veils hiding their faces. Each cord met in the middle – on a finely crafted, thickset box painted red and gold and covered in exquisite, serpentine carvings – two along the lid’s seam, a third over the top, with all three golden dragon-like heads meeting in the middle. Nothing of the lead mares’ bodies were visible, save for the tips of hooves, and a long, slender horn of the lead figure, which was almost absurdly decorated with golden hoops, baubles, and tipped right on the end by a cap adorned with radial spokes, like the first rays of sunrise across the heavens. “Not exactly subtle attire, I dare say,” Rarity murmured in a private aside to Twilight. The entire deck went dead quiet. When Twilight looked around, she witnessed sailors averting their gazes, declining their heads almost reverently, as if merely looking upon the trio would be disrespectful. One or two even swept the grubby hats from their heads. Even Tezuka was bowing. Everypony was standing off to the sides, none even close to being in the figure’s way as it made its way regally from one end of the deck to the other, never once showing any interest in those around it. “Who is that?” Rainbow hissed in an undertone to Twilight. She was looking between the newcomers and Tezuka, the sight of the once intimidating stallion now taking a humble knee obviously throwing her for a loop. “If Ah had ta guess,” Applejack whispered back, “she’s the one in charge ‘round here.” Twilight was looking the figure up and down, putting the pieces together, mentally referencing every Neighponese book she’d committed to memory. And the more she thought, the more an image started to form in her head, bit by bit. “I think,” she said in the smallest of whispers, “that is an Imperial Sorceress. The top echelon in Neighpon. I’ve heard stories, but… I never thought I’d actually see one. All the stories said they were extremely reclusive. Even Princess Celestia rarely saw them when she visited a long time ago.” All six turned back to watch the regal pony and her maids-in-waiting proceed down the length of the ship in almost ceremonial fashion. “If she’s so high and mighty,” Applejack hissed to Twilight, “How come we were never introduced, or even knew she was on board? That don’t sound like somethin’ Tezuka woulda just glossed over.” To that, Twilight didn’t have a good answer. “I don’t know. Maybe… the social divides are a lot bigger here than in Equestria.” “Still don’t seem right,” Applejack said. “You’re telling me,” Twilight agreed. The rest of the group watched in silence as the sorceress reached the bow of the ship. Standing in the shadow of the fierce yet ornate golden spines of the figurehead, she looked as small as a filly standing in a corner of a fortress courtyard. In one graceful movement, she turned around to face her maids. All three exchanged a polite bow, bending at the knee but not uttering a word. Then, the sorceress’ horn started to glow with a fiery orange light so reminiscent of a sunrise. To Twilight’s surprise, the box being carried by the two maids then started to click and clank. She couldn’t make out what was going on, but she thought she could just make out some kind of motion, as if some kind of mechanism was being unlocked. Then, with a loud ka-chick, the lid flipped open. And out floated… “… A rock?” Rainbow muttered, completely at a loss for words. “You’re… you’re seeing that too, right? Or… am I seeing things?” “No,” Rarity responded, deadpan. “No, that’s definitely a rock.” “Sure looks like a rock ta me,” Applejack put in. “Maybe it’s… um… a special rock,” Fluttershy offered, but even she looked confused. “Ooo, ooo!” Pinkie enthused, bouncing in place excitedly, “I should know this, I should know this!” She bounced two or three more times… then came a complete stop, looking thoroughly confused. “Wow… How does Maudie do it?” Admittedly, it was rather unexpectedly plain looking. The object the mare had so reverently and ceremoniously extracted was, to the naked eye, nothing more than an oval-shaped lump of grey stone, unremarkable in any other way. But Twilight was frowning. None of her friends noticed, as caught up as they were in their confusion. Something didn’t feel right; something in the air, as atmospheric as a feeling, but more tangible than that. But what could it be…? Meanwhile, the two maids bowed to the sorceress, then silently stepped five precise steps away from her, heads down, taking the box with them. Even for such simple actions, it was like a dance, or ritual, Twilight realized. Everything she was witnessing was being carefully choreographed, as if practiced for hours and hours on end by every pony involved. “What is she doing?” Rainbow hissed, but Rarity and Twilight both merely shushed her. They didn’t have answers, anyway. Then, without forewarning, the sorceress suddenly stood up on her hind legs. The folds of her dress furled open wide, flung open like great wings as she extended her hooves to either side. “Oh great spirits!” she cried, loud enough for everypony on deck to hear her perfectly. “Lend me your aid as I open the way to our sacred homeland!” Now Twilight was truly intrigued. Despite the anxiety worrying at the back of her head, she still found it in her to realize that she could be one of the first Equestrians to bear witness to a Neighponese tradition in centuries. Now she really wished she had a quill and paper to right on. Still, she couldn’t help but feel confused. Open the way? Just what kind of barrier did the Neighponese put up? Just as she started to wonder that, a new light bloomed into being, catching her attention. It was like the first rays of the sun peeking over the horizon, except the source was the gilded horn atop the sorceress’s head. And then, through squinting eyes, Twilight saw the sorceress lower her head, and point her horn straight at the ordinary chunk of rock floating in front of her. That was when Twilight felt it. The air started to hum. Something shocked through the air, putting the hairs on the back of her neck on end. It was a sensation Twilight had never felt before, but it felt to her very much like she’d just hit every funny bone in her body at once. “Goodness,” hissed Rarity, shivering as if she’d just jarred a nerve as well. “What in the world was that?” Before Twilight could say anything, the light began to grow brighter still. Golden rays of unicorn magic turned so blinding it was almost impossible to look directly into… and something else, something Twilight had never felt before. Wild, agitated, hyperactive in a very bad way… “I don’t know, but I’m starting to get a really bad feeling about this,” said Twilight, edging back slightly. “Something doesn’t feel right about this… Just what is that stone?” Nopony had an answer. At the same time, the Sorceress was saying something – a chant, or hymn of some sort, but it was lost over the distance between them all. “Dog, feeling, kettle, my, rice…” “Uh… is it just me, or is she saying complete nonsense?” Rainbow pointed out while tapping her ear. “There’s too much interference for the translation spell to work properly,” Twilight answered, rubbing one of her temples. “Interference?” Rainbow echoed, giving her a startled look. “From where?” Twilight pointed while squinting through the burning light. “That rock.” All six mares shielded their eyes, but even without them, Twilight could sense what was going on. A spell was taking shape, one so intricate and so broad it stunned her. It anchored itself into the very air, the very magic circulating through the world around them, seized it like a thousand fishing hooks sinking into an immense beast. All around them, ripples of magic were coursing through the air, unseen, but not unfelt by Twilight. It was as if the very foundations of reality were protesting against the force being exerted on it. More and more tethers snaked out, connecting to unseen forces here, there, everywhere all around them. And then, to Twilight’s horror, they wrenched. Not inward, not outward, but from side to side, a thousand-thousand claws digging into the very fabric of reality and tearing it open wide. Twilight wanted to shout out a warning, to try to undo the damage the sorceress had surely done. She’d read about the effects of inter-dimensional fissures, seen some of the effects in some of Celestia’s grimmest lessons – had nightmares about it for months afterwards even. But just as she was starting to run forward in a futile attempt to save as many ponies as she could, she felt the most peculiar, most unexpected snapping sensation in the air around them all. And suddenly, the fog ripped itself open. No… not a fog, she realized. An enchantment, one so powerful and so ancient she hadn’t even sensed it for what it was. Now, however, she did. It was as if the whole world beyond the ship’s decks sprang back to life. Magic, raw and unfettered, ripped out of the gaping hole in the fog bank, washing over everypony and everything. Even the earth ponies felt it, if Pinkie’s sudden squeal hinted at anything. Twilight suddenly felt herself swaying backwards; the ship was surging forward, rushing to take advantage of the opening. Twilight could feel the powerful enchantment rebounding, like displaced water rushing to fill in a void. Suddenly, the sorceress’s spell wasn’t comprised of countless tethers, but became countless pillars instead, rigid and unbending against the imploding gap. But again, as Twilight cast her senses out, inspecting the many anchors the sorceress had forged, she came across that same alien force – energy, but not quite magic. She’d never encountered anything like it before, and it puzzled her greatly. No… not magic… but it’s reacting to it. Where is this reaction coming from…? She was still curiously analyzing the mysterious energy… when something else caught her attention. And it announced itself with a thunderous rumble. Twilight’s eyes snapped open, a gasp on her lips. The sorceress’s spell was still as blinding as ever, but just beyond the blinding light, through the gap being ripped in the fog, something darker was pressing its way in – a black mass that buzzed and popped, filling the air with the smell of ozone. All of a sudden, Rainbow was on high alert, her wings snapping open. “Whoa! Major thunderstorm, twelve-o-clock!” “What are ya –” Applejack started to say, still blinded by the light of the unicorn’s horn. That was when a lance of lightning as wide as a pony exploded through the air over their heads, filling the sky above them with burning white light. Instantaneously it arced straight to the tops of the sails in the rear of the ship. It happened so fast that nopony noticed until the deafening bang of a mast exploding into fiery shrapnel rent the air. The explosive thunderclap made everypony on deck jump in alarm – including the sorceress. Suddenly, the thunder wasn’t alone. Lightning arced through the air, magic coalescing in a deadly spectacle of light and sound. Cracks and booms echoed all around as magic collided and discharged, sending ripples of superheated energies buffeting across the deck. The sorceress’s spell was starting to buckle under the sheer might of the enchanted fog bearing down in it. Pillars of concentrated magic bent and warped, shrinking as they were disintegrated under the stronger surge they were trying to hold back. The sorceress strained, gathering what power she could, but Twilight could feel her spell diminishing. The walls were coming in, spitting unnatural lightning and booming thunder and blowing hot arcane winds in their faces. Twilight reached out, trying to sense how far they had left to go to get out. Too far. With an otherworldly boom, a pillar shattered. It wasn’t sound, but repercussion of sheer magical force that pounded through Twilight’s body. “What the hay is going on?!” cried out Rainbow Dash. Her voice drew Twilight back to reality, and suddenly she realized how loud things had gotten. The distorted winds lashed across the deck, howling and screaming like some enraged animal. Sailors, once bowing humbly, were cowering as low to the ground as they could, some with their hooves around anchored objects. The ship was pitching and shuddering wildly, buffeted to and fro uncontrollably. They were pushing forward, but it felt like the sheer force being exerted on it was going to shake the mighty vessel to pieces. A blinding flash of light, and suddenly a line of wood across the deck simply… vanished. No fire, no smoke – it’d simply been erased in totality. The discharges were getting worse. Twilight knew then that they weren’t going to make it. The sorceress’s spell, for all its might, was buckling too fast. She alone could not keep the way opened. She had no choice. She had to act. “Twilight! Where are you going?” shouted somepony behind her. She’d never know who, for at that moment, she was galloping across the deck as fast as she could. A loud keening sound reached her ears, and she looked back just in time to see the tops of the fin-like sails vaporizing, reconstituted into base energies right before her eyes. She turned back around – no time to dwell on that. If she did nothing, the entire ship was going to be devoured, and they’d all be nothing more than arcane particles trapped in a fold of reality. Twilight sprinted forward, heedless of the lashing winds, dodging rigging, rampant magical ejections and panicking sailors, her eyes locked on the sorceress. The closer she got, the more she started to make the sorceress out. Instead of standing tall and erect like before, she’d buckled virtually to her knees, her forelegs slumping as if weighed down by the weight of the world. A million possible solutions flashed through Twilight’s mind, but she rejected each in turn. A barrier spell couldn’t stop this sheer level of destructive force. She had no hope of teleporting the entire vessel anywhere more than a few feet in any direction, not with the sheer mass of it and everypony on board and without any trajectory in her head, and that wouldn’t solve anything at all. And they weren’t going to make it very far without the ship, not in a sea of Kaiju. She could not hope to duplicate the sorceress’s spell – it was too complex. Maybe if she had a few hours to trial test it, but as things were looking, she’d be lucky to have minutes, if not seconds. There was, however, one solution, but it had her biting her lip nervously. It was either going to work… or it was going to hurt very much. Or both. Twilight skidded to a stop, rounding to the front of the sorceress at the same time. The sheer light her horn was giving off was diminishing, crushed beneath the terrible etheric backlash threatening them all. But it was still too bright to look directly at. Still, Twilight could hear the mare moaning and whimpering, her poster faltering little by little. “I… can’t…!” she whimpered. “Yes you can!” Twilight shouted over the howling magic. The mare looked up, just as Twilight ran up to her. “Wh-who… who are…?” Twilight didn’t say anything. She leaned forward, aimed her horn at the mare’s own decorated horn, and after an embarrassed second of hesitation, pressed the two tips together. Immediately, Twilight regretted it. Now she was connected to the spell, and subjected to every crushing ounce of power from the energies trying to stamp it out of existence. She had no control – if anything, she’d accomplished the equivalent of hooking in a new battery. But that had been the idea all along, as insane as that sounded. Every ounce of magic came rushing out of her with all the suddenness of a megaton bomb detonating. Torrents of magic poured out of her, overshadowing the sorceress’s completely. What had once been golden sunlight morphed into lavender dusk, shining forth ten times brighter than before with a soundless boom. The buckling columns straightened and pushed back. The crumbling opening was thrown open even wider than before. But it wouldn’t stay that way for long, not with Twilight’s raw strength of will alone. “I don’t know what to do,” Twilight said to the stunned mare. “It’s up to you now!” The sorceress said nothing. Twilight’s eyes were screwed tightly together in concentration, but soon, she felt the sorceress begin to respond. Magic, not her own, interweaved hers, pushing it and directing it where it needed to go. Replacement braces were forged from their melded magic. Weakened ones were strengthened and recovered. Finally, the winds died down enough for Twilight to hear the voices of five mares cheering in the distance… and a whole lot of stunned silence from the crew itself. Oh, if only she could see the look on Tezuka’s face now… ~~***~~ Finally, after what felt like a small eternity, Twilight felt the sorceress’s magic start to wind down and untangle itself from her own. She couldn’t help but sigh with relief. That had been a lot more taxing than she’d hoped, and she knew she was going to have the worst headache ever in a few minutes. The sorceress finally let the last of the magical struts collapse safely behind the ship, and with a cacophonous crash of sound and magic, the wall of impenetrable fog slammed shut behind them, and all was deafeningly quiet. At last, Twilight cracked open her eyes. She felt liable to fall to the ground out of sheer exhaustion, and she felt like she wouldn’t even be able to levitate a feather at that point… but she’d done it. They were all safe. When she opened her eyes, however, she found the sorceress staring straight at her through a white veil, frozen in place. “Are you okay?” Twilight asked. Surely she wasn’t the only one to be dog tired after all that. For some reason, however, the sorceress just stared at her, unspeaking, her face hidden behind her clean white veil. Then, rather abruptly, she spun around and dashed away as fast as her flowing silken gown would allow her. She was practically tripping over herself in her haste. She made it halfway across the deck when, just as suddenly, she came to a stop as if she just remembered something, spun around… and gave Twilight the most unexpected bow. “P-please take care of me!” she said, oddly flustered, before spinning back around and racing away, her two maids scrambling to catch up. Everypony on deck just looked around, completely at a loss… save for one. Tezuka stared straight at Twilight for so long that she had to look away. She just felt too uncomfortable. Instead, she turned to meet her friends, right as they came sprinting up the length of the ship towards her. “That was amazing, Twilight!” enthused Rainbow. “I mean, I wasn’t really scared or anything, but the way you just jumped in like that –! So awesome!” “Way ta think on yer hooves,” Applejack praised, clapping her on the back and very nearly throwing her to the deck. “Keep that up and we’ll be off this dang flyin’ contraption before ya know it.” Twilight endured all of their praise – not just Applejack and Rainbow, but Rarity, Fluttershy and Pinkie as well – with a sheepish expression and flush of color in her cheeks. “It wasn’t that big of a deal, really. And now that we’re through…” Crash! With a deafening roar of sound, rain fell upon them all at once – a deluge so heavy it was like an entire ocean had upended itself over their heads. Spluttering and squealing in alarm, all six ponies looked up… into the underbelly of a black stormcloud seething with lightning. Rain, cold and pounding, assaulted them and the boat, drowning out all other sounds. Within seconds, all six of them were soaked right down to the bone. It was no small storm system, either. As far as they could see through the lingering fog, there was nothing but dark purple and black clouds bearing down over their heads. “First the deplorable sleeping arrangements, then nearly getting vaporized, now this,” Rarity whined. “This trip simply cannot get any worse!” Applejack rolled her eyes, then turned to Rainbow. “Sugarcube, would ya mind?” “On it!” Rainbow shouted, just as she jetted off into the sky overhead. Twilight watched her go. The whole time, something was nagging at the back of her mind taxed mind, something elusive but important. Storms…. She was just starting to turn around when all of a sudden vertigo decided to blindside her out of nowhere. Dizziness overcame her, but just as she started to totter, somepony caught her. “Whoa there,” Applejack grunted, concern in her voice. “You alright, Twilight?” “Sorry,” she apologized on reflex. “Just… a little lightheaded, that’s all.” “I should think so, after all that,” Rarity put in, appearing out of nowhere. Suddenly, her soaked mane was the least of her concerns. “Come along, darling; you need to rest.” Twilight got halfway through her nod… when something caught her attention. Ponies were shouting behind her, their voices just barely audible over the pounding rain. “Get that rigging tied down! I want everypony not doing that to get to assessing the damage!” It was Tezuka, shouting at the top of his lungs. To hear him, one would think the entire ship was going down. “What’s going on?” Twilight asked, looking around somewhat blearily. None of her friends answered. They didn’t have to, because at that moment, gravity decided it didn’t need them anymore. Applejack yelped. Rarity squealed. Fluttershy automatically caught herself with he wings. Pinkie just giggled from the tickling sensation. None of their hooves actually left the deck, but nopony mistook the sign for what it was. The Amaterasu actually was going down. “Can’t a pony catch a break,” sighed Applejack in exasperation. “You six!” Tezuka shouted, caught himself, then barked, “where is the rainbow one?” “Dealing with the storm,” hollered Twilight. “What’s going on?” “We’re making an emergency landing,” came Tezuka’s voice. That whole time, Twilight had no idea where he even was, so thick was the rainfall. But after some looking around, she finally spotted the faintest profile through the downpour. “Get below deck, now! We’ll be sailing the rest of the way to Odo Island while my crew inspects the engine.” “I believe that answers your question,” Rarity said in a private aside to Applejack, “and it seems the answer would be a ‘no’.” ~~***~~ The Amaterasu’s landing was not a gentle one. With its engines seizing, it practically plummeted out of the sky in a controlled fall, and hit the ocean belly-first so hard it threw Twilight and her four other friends down onto the ground in their quarters, no matter how hard they were holding on. With an agonized groan, the ship bobbed back up, throwing ocean spray high into the rainy air, then slammed its belly into the rolling waves one last time, almost burying its nose into a mountain of water as it surged upon them. “And now we’re sailing,” Applejack sighed, eyes to the sky. “Landsakes, this trip really does keep gettin’ better and better.” “You call this sailing?” Rarity shot as everything in the room shifted with a rasp of wood on wood. “Sure beats dyin’, now don’t it,” Applejack replied smoothly. Rarity just gave her a dirty look. “W-we just have to wait until Rainbow takes care of the storm,” Fluttershy said, all the while maintaining her death grip on a crossbeam overhead. “Well, she’s takin’ her sweet time,” Applejack complained, eyeing the porthole. “There ain’t goin’ ta be a lot of repairin’ goin’ on if the waves keep up like this.” ~~***~~ Rainbow was not having a grand old time, herself. The storm was huge – way too huge for a single pegasus to handle even under the best of conditions. It was simply too big to break up – it would just form back together behind her before she could get a proper break going. Of course, most pegasi weren’t Rainbow Dash. Again she flung herself hoof-first into the underbelly of the cloud, and again it caved, ripping apart satisfactorily like wool fluff. She had to keep going for nearly a hundred feet straight up before she even cracked the surface again, and then she was diving back down without catching her breath. She had to work fast and precise, fast and precise. She could handle a storm this size solo – had done it before. Most ponies didn’t let her anymore, because they said her bragging was insufferable. But this storm… this was something else. It was like it was actively trying to resist her, reforming faster than she’d ever seen before. Finally she breached the underbelly again, and looked up, picking a new target, trying to feel where the storm was weakest. To her dismay, the hole she’d just punched upwards was already as small around as a foal’s leg, and shrinking by the second. Ionization tingled in her nostrils, and Rainbow instinctively threw herself up, just as a bolt of lightning tore through the sky, missing her by inches. “Okay, you wanna do this the hard way?” She shouted, rolling her shoulders one at a time. The storm grumbled contemptuously back. “Okay, one order of ‘hard way’, coming right up!” she bellowed, tensed to strike. She wound up for a kick, and lunged. She almost didn’t see the rock coming. At first it was only a shadow, darker than the pitch black storm itself. But primal instinct took over as she saw it coming – a vast shadow, as big around as a house. Without even thinking, she tossed herself to the side, narrowly evading the projectile as it screamed passed her. “What the hay?!” she cried, watching it go. She watched it as it tumbled end over end, one end pointed, the other jagged and cracked as if it’d been smashed by some tremendous force. Then, with an explosive crash, it hit the water, ejecting a plume of foam and sea spray high into the air. “Where in the…?” Rainbow mumbled, hastily looking around. Every muscle in her body was keyed, pounding with adrenaline. She could tell something was terribly wrong… that she wasn’t alone. Then she heard it; a distant thud – a cracking sound so cacophonous it echoed through the pounding rain and found her ears. Another mountain-sized slab of stone came soaring through the air, bigger than the last, trailing ocean spray as it spun, end over end, through the air. This one wasn’t even close, missing Rainbow by a country mile, but she still felt the gust of air off it as it passed, disappearing the same way as the first. “Okay,” Rainbow said to herself nervously, “this is getting kinda spooky. What’s…” …OOOOOOOOONNNNKKKK…. Rainbow’s blood ran cold. Only her wings kept moving as that resounding thunderclap of a sound reverberated across the sky. Now, every fiber of her being was screaming at her to run. To climb as high in the sky as she could, or to get as close to the horizon as she could before her wings gave out. To run and run, and get away from whatever had made that sound. Rainbow’s eyes slowly drifted downwards, into the cold dark of the gloom below her, and the roiling whitecaps far below. She had to be at least five hundred feet up, if not a thousand. And yet those slabs of shoal had almost nailed her twice already. And if she strained her ears, she just thought she could make something out… a distant thumping, thudding, crashing… Rainbow glanced over her shoulder, back in the direction of the others. By now they’d probably moved off a good ways. If she didn’t go find them now, she might not be able to later. It totally wasn’t running away – it just made sense! But then she looked back down in front of her. Then again… she couldn’t just leave whatever Mister Rockthrower was down there, unchecked. What if it came after the ship, and the girls? Rainbow gulped, unable to make up her mind. That was when the third, and largest object came soaring up at her. Instinctively she dodged without even looking at it, only registering that it darkened the sky next to her as it passed. Now, indignation was rising to her defense. Did this thing really mean to kill a bird with one stone? Oh hay no! She didn’t even bother watching the third object plummet back to sea. Seen one rock, seen ‘em all. Besides, she was keenly focused now. She angled herself downwards, and shot down at a steep angle, catching rain as it fell. She was so getting to the bottom of this. A few seconds of hard dive later, she fanned out her wings and braked, her eyes flashing around quickly. Rain. Lots and lots of rain. That was all she saw at first as she drifted forward. It’d be smarter to stay moving. “Okay, tough guy,” Rainbow growled. “Where are you?” She turned her head – and almost jumped out of her skin. A towering, rain-beaten spire of stone jutted up out of the water nearly two hundred feet like some worn rib bone. She looked it up and down, and as she did so, she noticed the rather flat top it had – most unusual. Guess that would explain where the rocks were coming from… As she looked around, she found more such spires – the remains of an island, perhaps, worn down and eroded until all that was left were shoals and needle-like spires. The biggest of the lot loomed a short ways away – an absolute mountain, probably the sturdiest thing around. And the most animate. At first, Rainbow thought her eyes were playing tricks on her – the rain making her see things. Until the whole summit of the mountain turned, and He took one massive, muffled step forward. All around Him were the remains of rocky outcroppings – shattered and obliterated, little more than shards protruding out of the shallow sea. Rainbow stared, horrified and transfixed all at once, paralyzed by shock. Even buried up to its shins in ocean currents, He towered over her. His other leg surged forward, creating a fresh wave for the pounding storm. Rainbow watched, unable to move, as He came to a stop, leaned forward, and then fell into the waves with a tremendous crash of thousands of tons of scales and muscle on ocean water. By the time the water fell back to the surface, He was long gone. All that was left was a surge of water rolling away over the sea for a few hundred yards, further north. Deeper into Neighpon.