//------------------------------// // Part II // Story: Beyond the Horizon // by bahatumay //------------------------------// Galvin awoke slowly. His head pounded, his whole body ached, and his tongue felt as thick and as dry as one of those old biscuits that one griffoness used to sell. What had happened? Memories came trickling back. The lack of drinkable water and his failed attempts to fish for food had taken their toll, finally culminating in him hallucinating his father laughing at him and his mother scolding him before passing out, taking mild comfort in the facts that his boat had lasted and that he had (more or less) accomplished his dream. “Oh, good. You’re awake.” Galvin opened one eye at the unfamiliar voice. He looked over and saw a blur of light purple that slowly resolved into a pony. A pony? Where had he landed? At least ponies weren’t predators, though; he would have made an easy meal for any hungry beast in his weakened state. Still, he wiggled all his claws and toes, making sure he felt them all before he relaxed. “You're either-” She shook her head. “No, there is no ‘either’ in there. You're a colossal idiot.” Galvin sat up quickly, and his head swam. He rested his head in his claws and fought through it. “Hey, now,” he started, one eye squinted. “Don't give me that 'hey, now', Buster,” she retorted, prodding his chest with a hoof that seemed much sharper than it looked. “It was just lucky I saw your raft adrift in the sea. It's only afloat now because of your sheer dumb luck, and that's literally all you had going for you. You had no compass on board, you're by yourself in the middle of the ocean, you had no rudder, you had no rope, and unless your food and water barrels grew fins and swam away, you started out without any supplies. And if my calculations are correct, and I'll bet bits to bridles they are, you spent a whopping three weeks out there to travel a whole two hundred miles.” Galvin choked. “Come again?” “Two hundred miles from West Griffonstone to Rolling Hills. Which is where you are now.” She cracked a wry smile. “Welcome to the grain capital of the east!” Galvin sat back, stunned. His 'magnificent journey' had been the equivalent length of a good flight! Without any idea where he was going, he must have just drifted in circles until he wound up here. He placed his face in his claws and groaned. “What the hay were you thinking?” the mare demanded. “Were you thinking?” “I wanted…” “You wanted what? To die a lonely death? ‘Cause let me tell you, Buster, that’s not all it’s cracked up to be.” “Galvin.” The pony blinked. “Come again?” “Galvin. That's my name. Not Buster; Galvin.” The pony seemed mildly taken aback. “Sea Spray,” she returned, her voice only hesitating slightly. “What did you want, Galvin?” she repeated. “I wanted… I wanted to find the horizon. Go beyond it. While sailing. I- it’s stupid, I know; but…” To his surprise, Sea Spray looked down and scuffed a hoof. “No, not at all. That… that makes sense. To me,” she added. She turned to leave. “I’ll get you some more water,” she offered. His eyes widened as he watched her walk away. Her right hind leg was mangled and scarred, and it was twisted at such an odd angle that her hoof hung a few inches above the ground. To compensate for its loss, her left hind leg stood more or less in the middle of her body, and had to hop along as she walked. She was lame. Galvin didn’t know too much about pony culture, but he was fairly certain that a pony being lame was almost as good as a death sentence. He watched in fascinated horror as she left the room. As soon as she left, he took the opportunity to look around his room. He was obviously in Sea Spray’s house. It was, like a stereotypical pony’s room, decorated in garish pinks and yellows and light blues; and pictures and decorations hung all over the walls. Light streamed in through a wide window, though why it was carved in the shape of a heart Galvin couldn't say. The sun was peeking through; it was either morning or evening and Galvin wasn't sure which he'd rather it be. His heart skipped a beat as he recognized some of the decorations. One could only be a fishing net. One was clearly a pulley for pulling up sails, and it still had the rope running through it. The white wall was actually a sail, much bigger and thicker than his bedsheet had been. And that big metal thing on the wall matched the marking on the side of the ship. He’d thought it was painted on as decoration, but apparently not. Sea Spray returned, carrying a small wooden cup. Galvin accepted it, but not before pointing at the metal thing. “What’s that?” “An anchor,” she answered flatly. “You use it to keep ships anchored in one place.” “Ships?” “Like a boat, but bigger.” Sea Spray shook her head. “You really were clueless, weren’t you?” “Hey, I managed to build my boat,” Galvin protested weakly. “I’d call it ‘a pile of driftwood’, not a boat,” Sea Spray deadpanned. “Drink your water.” Galvin obeyed, and was pleasantly surprised to feel more sensation return to his tongue. He licked his beak a few times and then smiled. “Thank you,” he said. “I don’t have many bits, but-” “Eh, don't worry about it,” Sea Spray shrugged. “I’d do it for anypony.” Galvin, thinking she meant the water, nodded and set the cup down. Then he asked the burning question. “Were you a sailor?” “My name is Sea Spray,” Sea Spray deadpanned. “I wasn’t exactly destined for a life on land.” Galvin paused. “How do ponies do that? Name their hatchlings?” Sea Spray shrugged. “I dunno. Magic or something?” She sighed and sank to her haunches, looking wistfully down at the floor. “I was,” she admitted quietly. “And I was dang good at it, too. I could breathe my namesake, they’d say. I could do it all. I could navigate, tie knots, read charts; anything they needed, I was their mare.” She tossed her head at her lame leg. “Then I was out in the shallows of an island one day getting some fish, and a shark tried to have a Sea Spray sandwich.” She cracked a wry smile. “I guess I tasted bad, because he let go right away; but it wasn’t the same afterwards. I couldn’t keep up. My crew dropped me off at a port near here, and I’ve been here ever since.” Galvin exhaled. “I’m sorry,” he said. It was all he could think of to say. “Yeah, well, me too,” Sea Spray said. She pushed herself up. “Anyway, got a nice little plot of land here. Grows good grain.” She cracked a smile. “You can eat bread, right? Never really met a griffon before.” Galvin nodded, thinking of the cost. He didn't have too many bits. “I can,” he said. “Not too hungry now, though.” His stomach growled, making a liar of him. Sea Spray laughed. “You’re a terrible liar. Bread it is; but then I’ve got to go move the hoses.” “Move the hoses?” “Yeah.” She started back towards the door. “Seawater’s only good for the fish. Kills ponies and wheat dead. Gotta get water from the stream.” Galvin watched her leave, her hind leg hopping as she did. He groaned. How was he going to pay for all of this? * * * Bright and early the next morning, Galvin had recovered enough to offer to work. And work he did. Galvin hauled the heavy hose one row over and pulled it forward into position. He waited with baited breath, but he had done it quickly enough to maintain the siphon properties; the water began to flow out and he grinned. Fifth time's the charm right? He looked up at Sea Spray, who looked impressed. “Not bad,” she said. She tossed her head aside towards the rest of the field. “Now just another forty-eight more to go.” Galvin grimaced. This was going to be something. * * * Galvin drank gratefully from the offered cup. “Thanks,” he breathed. Sea Spray chuckled and refilled it. “You’re welcome,” she said. “I should be thanking you; you did that in half the time it takes me. Once you got your rhythm down, anyway.” Galvin grinned and flexed his claws. It was good to be a griffon. Sea Spray cut him down with her next sentence. “Of course, we’ll have to move them all again tonight; but still.” Galvin groaned, and massaged his face with the palm of his claw. “Did you ever think this would be your life?” he had to ask. Sea Spray barked a laugh. “No. Never. I figured I’d be at sea until I died, probably fighting off pirates, and then given a proper burial at sea.” She glared at her mangled leg. “This is an extended death sentence.” Galvin felt the need to change the subject, and something occurred to him. “I’ve been meaning to ask. How did you know where I was from?” “I recognized the wood in your raft. That’s good, strong stuff, usually used for masts, and grows only in--you guessed it--West Griffonstone.” Sea Spray chuckled. “Of course, you mangled it so bad it’s only good for driftwood, now; but still.” Galvin cracked a wry smile. She wasn’t going to let that go, was she? “Yeah, well, I’ve never been trained on boat or ship building.” “Technically, neither have I; but I know that’s not how you do it. I’m more impressed that you managed to keep it together.” Galvin chuckled. “I’m a slow learner,” he said. “That was my fifth boat I built.” Sea Spray laughed as she poured herself a glass. “You are crazy,” she said. “Hurry up and finish your water, we’ve got some weeding to do after this.” * * * After dinner (more bread), Galvin wandered outside. He did this for two reasons. One, Sea Spray was still chagrinned at him pulling up nearly half a row of her plants before realizing that they were not actually the weeds he was supposed to be pulling; and two, he wanted another look at her boat. Yes, Sea Spray had a boat. It was little, but it was definitely a professionally-made boat. It had a flat bottom, kindof like his raft, but instead of logs lashed together, it seemed to be made of boards that were held together somehow. He climbed in and crouched down, taking a good look. “What on Celestia’s green earth are you doing?” Sea Spray demanded. “You’re not thinking of trying to sail the ocean in that skiff, are you?” “Skiff?” “That’s a skiff. Great for smaller shallow bodies of water, but one good ocean wave will sink it.” Galvin sat up, undeterred. “Then I’ll just build it bigger.” “It’ll sink,” Sea Spray shot him down. “But I’ll never know unless I try,” Galvin said. “You’ll know because I’m telling you,” Sea Spray emphasized. “Flat bottomed boats don’t work in a larger scale. They’re impossible to steer and handle, assuming their weight doesn’t make them too heavy for the water displaced.” “Water in what places?” Sea Spray facehoofed. “Ships only float because the volume of water they displace is- You know what? No. It’s pointless.” “You can’t have given up that sailing dream,” Galvin protested. “Yeah, well, I’m dreaming more realistically now.” She turned around. “You want to try to build a ship, go ahead.” Galvin watched her leave, then turned back towards inland. Surely there were some good places for wood here. He was not going to give up. * * * The farm chores were finished quickly with two around, and as soon as Sea Spray had said that they were done for the day, Galvin had taken the axe and headed out to the forest in search of wood. Before long, he had brought back a few logs. Using the axe, he began stripping the bark off. It was slow going; the axe handle was too long and kept getting in the way. He tried holding it closer to his body, but it slipped and hit him in the ribs. Frustrated but undeterred, he continued working, holding it at an awkward angle. He looked up at the tap on his shoulder. Sea Spray stood behind him, holding a hatchet in her mouth. “Thanks,” Galvin said, reaching for it. Sea Spray tossed her head, keeping the hatchet just out of reach. “Wha’ are you ‘oin’?” she asked. “I’m stripping the bark and I’m going to use it as the base of my boat,” Galvin said. Sea Spray spat the hatchet out. “Well, I’m glad to see you’ve finally graduated from using whole logs, but that’s not going to work. Not like that, anyway.” “How do you know?” Galvin asked. “You building a raft or a boat?” Sea Spray challenged. “Boat,” Galvin answered. “Where are your ribs?” Galvin squinted, and slowly brought a claw up to point at his ribcage. Sea Spray facehoofed. “No! Of the boat!” “A boat needs ribs?” “How do you think they keep their shape?” Sea Spray asked rhetorically. “Did ponies just so happened to find trees that grew at that angle?” Galvin shrugged and reached for the hatchet. “I’ll figure that out later. I’ll get the planks ready first.” Sea Spray blinked. “You’re serious about this.” “Yes, I am.” Sea Spray shook her head, trying to comprehend. “Where are you going to go?” “I don't know.” “You're sailing blind, then.” “Yeah.” “You don’t even have a compass.” “No.” “And that doesn't bother you?” Galvin shook his head. “I need to go. I can't explain it.” Sea Spray nodded. “Then I'm coming with you.” “But-” “I bet you don't even know which way east is,” Sea Spray challenged. “Sure I do,” Galvin said. “The sun sets in the east.” Sea Spray facehoofed. “The sun sets in the west, you dolt.” “I knew that,” Galvin defended himself lamely. “I was testing you.” Sea Spray exhaled. “You'll die out there alone, and I don’t want your blood on my hooves. I’m coming with you, and that’s final.” “I don't have bits to pay you.” “I don't- I don't have a life here!” Sea Spray exploded. “Farming isn’t me! I would pay you bits to let me come with you! You and your… stupidity! You’ve brought back a spark I didn’t know I had anymore! I want to live again! Truly live!” She turned to Galvin. “I’m. Coming. With. You.” Galvin exhaled. “Fine,” he said. “Can you help me take the bark off?” Sea Spray smiled, a true happy smile. “Not with a hatchet. I know a pony in town who owns a lumber mill. Grab your logs and come with me. He’d probably be able to steam set some ribs, too. We might have to wait until next season to have the bits for the mast, though.” “Fine by me,” Galvin said, tying the logs together and pulling them onto his shoulder. Galvin didn’t even feel the weight of the logs as he followed Sea Spray into town. He was actually going at her hobbled pace now, loaded down under all the weight of the wood; but he didn’t even care. Finally, his dream was going to come true.