It wasn’t every day that one was summoned to see the governor. The very idea terrified Riptide. He was more than content to stay in his little nook, minding his own business, and doing his job. Riptide, an archivist by trade, organised notes into actual volumes of information, wrote bibliographies, appendixes, and cross reference footnotes. The job was very boring; nothing exciting ever happened, and Riptide liked it that way.
Riptide felt that nothing exciting ever needed to happen. His tail twitched and his fins quivered as he swam through the strong sweeping current towards the large coral tower that was city hall. Riptide, a glider sea pony, could swim through the strongest currents with ease with the large wing like fins that grew from his back. Beneath him, on the seafloor, the coral sea ponies swam along the ground, using their front legs to move themselves along the bottom, minding the sea beds, growing food, and growing new coral for their city.
City hall was a tall twisted building, curving and bulbous, one of the largest buildings here in the small town of Fathom. It was said to be from the time of long night, over a thousand years old, from when the sun did not shine down from the surface of the water. With a flick of his tail, Riptide shot through the doors of city hall, which opened at his approach.
As he moved down the hall, the doors closed behind Riptide and he marveled for a moment at sea shaper magic, something that always left him feeling a sense of awe. The sea shapers had coral like growths spiraling out of their foreheads and Riptide wished that he had been born a sea shaper. It would have made his job a lot easier. His large fins were enough to get the job done, but magic would have offered him a cushy life.
A cushy life was a boring life, and Riptide wanted a boring life. Already, he was feeling apprehensive. Other sea ponies swam past him, their tails swishing, their front legs paddling or pulling them along the floor. Other sea ponies meant excitement. Loud voices. Other sea ponies meant sea pony on sea pony interaction.
Riptide shuddered, not liking this. Hugging the wall, Riptide wiggled past the long line of sea ponies lined up to see the mayor of Fathom. Riptide did not like the mayor. He was a hugger. He would swim right up to ponies he did not even know, wrap his forelegs around them, and squeeze them. A stream of bubbles shot out of Riptide’s gills as he let out a heaving breath, feeling panicked and tense.
Taking a left, Riptide swam off down an almost deserted hallway, spreading out his glider fins so he could hurry up and get this over with. He had no idea why the governor wanted to see him. Already, Riptide was missing his office. Paper was a precious resource down here. It was enchanted, magical to the highest degree, and working with it was a great privilege. Answering the governor’s summons was time spent away from working with precious paper and books.
There was no line in front of the governor’s door. The governor’s secretary, a sea shaper that was a vibrant shade of yellow with green stripes and frilly orange fins, waved. Riptide wanted to turn around and swim away. He began to gnaw his lip.
“You look nervous… I assure you, nothing is wrong. The governor said he would see you the moment you arrived. Please, go in and speak with him. And do calm down.” The sea shaper had a deep voice and he smiled, trying to put Riptide at ease.
Whimpering, Riptide pushed the door open.
The governor was a large fat sea shaper that was an eye burning shade of orange. His fins, bright red with blue streaks, rippled in the water. He was pacing around his desk when Riptide entered and he stopped when he saw Riptide.
“Hullo… been expecting you… Riptide, right?”
Rubbing his front legs together, Riptide nodded but said nothing.
“You’re a quiet sort, or so I’ve been told,” the governor said. “Name is Squall, but you can call me Stormy… everypony else does. I ain’t no formal sort, I’m well liked ’cause of that I am. My fellow sea ponies say I’m approachable, so I am.” Squall, called Stormy, gestured to a chair.
In the room, with the doors shut, there was very little current so things could settle down upon flat surfaces. Riptide looked at the chair, then at the governor, and then back at the chair. With a flick of his glider fins, he shot across the room and planted himself in a chair.
“We have ourselves a problem Riptide… are you aware of what that problem is?” Stormy asked, settling into his own chair and looking at Riptide as he did so. “It’s a real brain buster of a problem, and I’ve been told that you could help me.”
“I don’t even know what the problem is.” Riptide’s voice came out as a shrill gurgling squeak and more bubbles shot out from his gills than his mouth. He was talking through his gills again… the very thing his school teacher had told him not to do every day when he was younger. Riptide whimpered, feeling awful for what he had just done.
“You mean, you haven’t noticed?” Stormy asked.
“No sir… I notice very little… I stay in my office, I do my job, and then I go home. I never cause trouble, never cause a stir, and I am a very responsible sea pony,” Riptide replied.
The governor laughed, a belly shaking guffaw that caused the water around him to ripple and the items on his desk rattled. “You’re that sort. Perfect.”
“Perfect sir? I still don’t understand.” Sitting in his chair, Riptide rubbed his front legs together, ruffling the fins protruding from his front limbs.
“Tell me… have you ever stopped to have a good look at a nice sea mare?” the governor asked, his face becoming serious once more. “Ever thought of settling down?”
Riptide did not look at sea mares. The idea of talking to one of them made him nervous. The very idea of settling down with one made him feel queasy. He had tried talking to one, once, she had rolled her eyes and ignored him. Just thinking about the rejection made Riptide feel very small and insecure. “Sir, I am very respectful of the fairer sex and I mind my manners. I am content to be a bachelour.”
“Ugh, blimey, you have it bad, mate,” Stormy said, shaking his head. “Not even aware of the problem… the problem is, there are far too few females left. Depending on who you ask, there is one sea pony mare for every five to eleven sea pony stallions. Our scientists are alarmed by these numbers. We’ve contacted our cousins on the land and asked them for help.”
“I don’t see how this affects me, I don’t wish to be married,” Riptide said in a faint squeak, more bubbles exiting his gills.
“You knob! There are more sea ponies in the sea than just you… there are fears that we are dying out!” Stormy’s voice was an angry gurgle that filled the room.
Riptide cringed in his chair.
“We contacted our land dwelling cousins. Princess Celestia said to send a pony that needed to make friends and that she would help us. After much discussion, your boss suggested you, saying that you needed to make friends more than anypony he knows. He also said that you were smart. You’re good at data collection, whatever the bloody wreck that is. We figure if this Princess Celestia is going to help us sort this out, she’s going to need a fellow to help her research stuff. She’s said to be real smart, that one. Bright as the sun they say.” Stormy chuckled at his own joke and banged a front leg upon his desk.
“I just assemble the already existing data into a readable form… I’m not a researcher, there has been a mistake,” Riptide said in reply, waving his front legs in front of him in an effort to ward off the responsibility being foisted upon him.
“You’re going—”
“I’ve never been to the surface. Ever! Look, I know I am a sea glider, but I never go to the surface and go gliding… I just mind my business down here. I don’t want to go up there. Up there is scary!” Riptide closed his eyes and shook his head. “No no no…”
“You’re going to the surface. You’re going to find us a solution. And if this Princess Celestia has her way, you’ll make a friend or two. Sounds like you need one,” Stormy said.
“No…”
“Orders from King Leo, King of Auquastria.”
“Oh bother.” Riptide slumped down in defeat, his tail laying limp along the floor.
“Oh bother… oh bother… look here you whiny sot, you have a chance to save us all. I’m part of the camp that believes we are dying off and I’m in no bloody mood to go extinct any time soon,” Stormy said, shaking the fin on the end of his right foreleg at Riptide. His expression softened and he dropped his foreleg upon his desk. “Look, you were selected. Make the most of it. You have tonight to get your head together and then you will be leaving for the surface tomorrow. You’ll need to swim east. There is a city with the name Vanhoover. You will go ashore there and make your way inland—”
“How do I go ashore? I’ll drown!” Riptide said.
Stormy snorted, sending a stream of bubbles shooting out his nose. “Word has it, if we go on on dry land, we’ll turn into ponies. You can’t drown. You can breathe air you silly twit!”
Realising that he was running out of excuses, Riptide’s head drooped down and he stared at the floor. Giving up, he decided to listen.
“After making your way to Vanhoover, you will need to make your way inland. Princess Celestia lives in a city called Canterlot that is located in the middle of Equestria. Equestria is a very small place compared to our ocean. From what I saw of the map, it shouldn’t be more than a few hours journey. A half a day at most. So once you are ashore, find a way to Canterlot.”
Confused, Riptide shook his head. “How do I know where to go? How do I get there?”
“Perhaps you should make a few friends,” Stormy suggested.
Oh this is dreadful, Riptide thought to himself. He looked at the governor, unaware of the pleading expression upon his face. “There are things on the land that eat ponies.”
“There are things in the sea that eat ponies… besides… there is nothing on the land that eats ponies. They have a very safe kingdom, or so I am told. They have big cities and a large population. So the whole ‘there are things that eat ponies’ is just a myth, so I reckon… a story to scare foals. Now a shark… or a mega shark… or even a kraken, those ain’t no stories, oh no. Those is real and my uncle was eaten by a kraken,” Stormy replied. His eyes narrowed. “You’re afraid of every bloody thing there is, ain't you?”
“Yes sir, I am, and I find it is a very healthy attitude. If I just stay in my office, do my job, and then go right home, I’ll never be eaten by a kraken and I’ll have the satisfaction of living to a ripe old age.” After speaking, Riptide realised this whole trip could interfere with his plans. He could be eaten by something… something in the sea perhaps… or some dreadful monstrosity lurking on the land. On land, there were terrifying monsters with horrible sounding names. Like possums. Hedgehogs, which Riptide imagined to be some porcine-plant based horror. Beavers. Riptide shuddered. A land dwelling creature with big teeth and a giant flat tail that was perfect for spanking the backsides of creatures that lived in the water. To death… He had read about it in a research paper.
“Well, good luck… on your way out, my secretary will give you your instruction packet. Read over it tonight. Tomorrow morning, bright and early, I’ll be meeting you by the sunrise community garden. You’ll be fine…”
Riptide gulped, fearing that his life was now measured in hours.