CHAPTER TEN
WHO WE ARE INSIDE
“Oh goddesses, my head!”
Chalk tried to sit up, the room spinning around him horribly as a bolt of pain shot through his body, “Damn it all…”
A neat, shiny black hoof pushed him back down. He followed it up, along the sleek and trim red leg, up the graceful neck, to the large maroon eyes of the yellow haired mare sitting beside the bed.
“Hello sleepy.” Gretel smiled, “We have to stop meeting like this.” She chuckled and reached down, rinsing out a cloth and placing it onto his forehead, “Come on, lie back now. Doc says you need rest to recover your magic and those injuries.” She paused, “I’m sorry, Chalky…I shouldn’t have pushed you so hard.” Gretel’s eyes looked distant, as if she were staring into some unknown past.
Chalk smacked his lips, “Cap’n? Could I have some water?”
“Oh!” She exclaimed, jumping slightly, “Of course!”
She passed him a bowl rather than a cup, “Here, Doc says it’s best until your hooves and magic are working properly again.”
“My hooves and magic?” Chalk’s eyes went wide, “Why? What’s…”
Instinctively, he tried to channel a little magic, just the barest trickle. Instantly, pain, white hot are urgent, seared through him. He cried out in agony, gripping the bed sheet and curling up into a ball. Goddesses, the pain! He gasped, choking and coughing as the onslaught gradually began to subside. Slowly, he began to become more aware of his surroundings: the bed, the wood of the cabin wall, the warm mare gently stroking his mane and neck. He froze. What was happening? Who was…?
“Chalky…” The Captains voice was soft, kind and caring, “I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry.”
He relaxed, the sensation of being stroked was so wonderful, so sensual, he could feel the pain and worries of the world draining away from him as if they simply didn’t exist anymore. Sighing, he let out a low hum of relief,
“That’s nice…”
A warm breath softly caressed Chalk’s ear, travelling down his muzzle to his mouth. He opened his eyes in surprise, taking in the large maroon eyes gazing into his,
“…So is this” Gretel murmured, taking the white unicorn’s muzzle in her hooves and bringing her mouth down to meet his. Her lips, so soft and deliciously warm, pressed against his own. His defenses breached, his soul and heart laid bare, Chalk surrendered to the pirate Captain completely.
*********************
Sunlight filtered through from the ventilation grille high above, bathing the black coated pony in its life giving warmth. Bracken stirred, groaning at the ache coming from the back of his skull. Lifting a foreleg, he held it up to the light, blocking it from shining directly into his eyes. He’s had hangovers before, but this was on a different level altogether. Rolling onto his side, he was taken with a sudden bout of coughing, the dusty environment setting his chest off into a fit of wheezing. It was always the same whenever he stayed in unfamiliar places, at least ones with dust at any rate. Goddesses, his lungs felt like they were on fire!
“There’s water on the table and a parcel of powders for your head.”
The blue pony sitting outside raised an eyebrow as he indicated the items on the rickety furniture that…hang on…’outside’?! Bracken tried to jump up, suddenly finding his limbs held fast by…he took a look…
“Chains?!” He gasped in shock.
The blue pony poked a small pair of pince-nez up his muzzle, “Yes. Try not to move around too much, they’ll chafe your legs.”
“I…” Bracken shook his mane in disbelief, “Let me out, goddess damn you!”
“Any particular one you had in mind?” The pony replied, giving him a meaningful look.
Bracken narrowed his eyes, “Don’t buck me around friend, what’s going on here?”
There was a clatter from above him and a hatchway opened, admitting the shape of a pony outlined in the sunlight. A big beaming grin accompanied the newcomer,
“Ahoy, mate!”
Bracken face hoofed, “You’ve got to be kidding me…”
“Nope, it’s really me, and believe me, you aren’t dreaming.” The white coated pony trotted down the steps towards him, sporting several bandages and a vivid scar down the side of his face, “How are you Brack, the Doc taking good care of you?”
Bracken’s mind reeled. The last thing he remembered was going to fetch more wine for…for…who? His mind was such a mess! He groaned, holding his head in his hooves,
“Oh goddesses, Chalky, what the hell’s going on? My head! Buck me sideways I think I’m dying.”
“Not according to the Doc” Chalk chuckled, landing in the chair beside his cell, “Bit of life in the old stallion yet apparently.”
Bracken opened one eye as he lay there, peering out at Chalk. The bars between the two of them were at odds with the stupid grin on his friends face. He snatched up the bowl and took a gulp of water,
“Will you, or somepony, tell me…” He closed his eyes, trying not to scream out in frustration, “What in Celestia’s hairy arse bucking world is going on?!”
Chalk raised his eyebrows, “Keep your mane on, Brack, I’m coming to that.”
“Oh good!”
The white stallion clucked his tongue, “So cynical…”
“Cynical?!” Bracken waved his forelegs in exasperation, “Have you lost your mind? I’m in a bloody cell, in chains, and you’re out there acting like it’s a bloody game!”
Chalk rolled his eyes, “Technically it’s the ‘brig’, but…”
Bracken glared at him.
“Okay, okay!” Chalk held up a hoof in submission, “Sorry, but we had to take precautions.”
“Who’s ‘we’? And what ‘precautions’?” Bracken pushed himself to the side of the bed.
“’We’, as in the Captain and crew of this ship.” Chalk explained, casually scratching his rump, “As for your second question, they’re concerned about where your, um, ‘loyalties’ may lie.”
Bracken’s eyes went wide, “My loyalties?”
“Aye” Chalk said quietly. He gave his friend a half smile, his voice losing the usual comedic edge, “We’re at war Brack, and we found you wandering around the enemy camp like you belonged there. You can’t blame us for being a little ‘suspicious’.”
Bracken’s hoof slammed down on the table, “You hit me on the head!”
Chalk shook his head, “No, the Bosun hit you on the head. Anyway, you can’t blame her really, we thought you were one of the Legion. Who else wanders around Nightmare Moon’s camp at night?”
“Indeed…” Bracken narrowed his eyes at his friend.
“Hoy, hold on! We were there on business!” Chalk protested.
Bracken’s head suddenly throbbed, his thoughts becoming disordered and confused. Why had he been there? He was a soldier in the Celestian army and he was in Nightmare Moon’s camp? Something about being thirsty, needing another…the black mare who… A searing bolt of pain suddenly lanced through him, making him gasp and drop back onto the bed. Chalk Dust leaped off his chair,
“Brack, BRACK! You okay? DOC! I need help here!”
Chalk threw himself at the cell door, pounding on the lock, “Dammit, why’d they take the blasted key?”
“…Because you’d do what you’re trying to do now, you bloody idiot.” The blue pony trotted down the steps, his medical panniers slung over his back. Doc rolled his eyes at the white stallion, producing the key, “Here. Now, I’m going inside but you lock the door behind me and you don’t unlock it unless I tell you, understand?”
“No…Why?” Chalk scratched his head, “That doesn’t make any sense!”
Doc shook his head slowly, mumbling quietly under his breath,
“She always goes for the dim ones…”
Chalk shot him a look that told him he’d heard every word. Shrugging it off, Doc motioned to the door. Reluctantly, Chalk placed the key in the lock, feeling the resistance as it rotated, then pulled it open. The ships doctor walked past him to the stricken Bracken, placing his bags beside him. Doc pushed his spectacles up his nose and peered down at his patient, humming. A few minutes passed before he nodded to himself and opened the panniers.
“What’s up with him, Doc?”
Doc didn’t look up, “My guess would be a memory overwrite spell, maybe a blocker of some kind. Hard to tell” He began taking out various strange looking instruments, “Magical maladies and spells are a particular field of medicine more suited to unicorns. I’m more practiced in physical medicine.”
“So, can you help him?” Chalk asked pushing up against the bars.
“Maybe…” Doc murmured, “I need to see what’s going on first.”
The blue stallion produced a small brass band from a slim rosewood box, placing the odd contraption on his head. Tapping it with his hoof, the device clicked and a small glass lens flipped down. Tiny lights, almost imperceptible at first, began to glow around the band.
“What’s that for?” Chalk asked, pressing himself into the bars for a closer look.
Doc sighed, “Do you have an interest in becoming a medical pony, Mister Dust?”
Chalk stepped back, “Um…”
“Then shut up and let me work!” Doc snapped, glaring back at him. The white unicorn hung his head and sat back on his haunches, watching, but keeping his mouth closed. ‘Just like the Doctor ordered’, Doc thought to himself. He sighed. Chalk wasn’t a bad pony, or stupid, just…painfully inquisitive! He probably would make a good medic if he applied himself, but that incessant questioning! The blue pony shrugged; at least he was quiet now and he could get on with his work in peace. Taking a breath he leaned over the black stallion,
“Can you hear me?”
Bracken’s voice was a bare whisper, “…yes…”
“What’s your name, soldier?”
“e...ebony…br…bracken…”
“Alright Bracken, I want you to open your eyes. Can you do that for me?” Doc held his patient’s head in his hooves as Bracken’s eyes opened slowly. He was clearly in a lot of pain, the light affecting him far more than it should do.
“Photosensitivity…” Doc muttered, staring down into the pony’s eyes, “Pupils dilated.”
He lay a damp cloth across bracken’s forehead, “Here, that will help with the headache.”
The Doctor rummaged in his pannier and withdrew a stethoscope. Listening to Brackens chest, he nodded to himself; it sounded clear. More checks revealed the black pony’s temperature was up slightly, but there was no sign of any injury whatsoever. The aether spectrometer was showing ‘something’, but specifically what, it was hard if not impossible to tell. One thing was for certain though, there was a spell at play here, and it was dug deep.
The hatchway opened, admitting the sleek red form of the Captain. She trotted up to Chalk, giving him a playful nudge before observing her medical officer at work.
“Any thoughts, Doc?” She asked quietly.
Doc shook his head, “I’m going to try something.” He leaned down into a bag and lifted out a box. Clicking the latches open, a peculiar cantilevered device popped up. A few clicks and adjustments later, Doc attached it to Bracken’s head. Multicoloured gems set into the contraption quickly began to glow and throb with light while the blue pony worked, the room quickly becoming a fascinating kaleidoscope of colour. Without even thinking, Chalk reached out and found the Captain’s hoof, holding it for comfort. Gretel smiled at him warmly; the young pony was so innocent, despite everything he’d been through, but she could understand how he felt. She’d seen ponies she cared about in far worse shape than this black stallion. She leaned into him and gave him a reassuring nuzzle. No, seeing somepony you cared about suffering and not being able to help them…it never got any easier. She closed her eyes. It didn’t hurt any less.
Doc’s voice sounded unnaturally loud in the quiet of the brig, “You were with the army at river valley, Bracken.”
“…yes…” The black stallion’s voice sounded as if it were coming from a long way off.
Doc adjusted the device, “What happened?”
There was a long pause and then Brackens voice came back, distant, hollow,
“Killing…so much death…the minotaurs, Captain Spark…they…they…”
“It’s alright Bracken, you’re with friends now. You’re safe.” Doc wiped Bracken’s neck with a damp cloth, “Were you hurt?”
“…yes, I…I think so…” His voice was barely more than the faintest whisper, “Something hit me…I was…dying…”
Chalk gasped, squeezing his eyes shut and pressed into Gretel.
“They…she…she took me in…”
“She?” Doc asked, adjusting the device, “Who was she?”
Bracken’s face suddenly changed, a strange wistful smile appearing on it as if all his pain and distress had simply melted away, “She? The only one…the only one…” He gave a soft laugh, “None come close…so beautiful, so…”
“What’s her name?” Doc asked.
“Her…name?” Bracken slowly began to sit up, “You know her name…” Doc moved back hurriedly.
“YOU KNOW HER NAME!”
In a sudden flurry of legs, Bracken lunged for the Doctor. The blue stallion backed away just in the nick of time as the hooves of his patient flailed at him,
“Open the door!” Doc shouted, “Quick!”
Chalk flung the cell door open, helping the doctor scramble through before slamming it shut and clicking the lock into place. Doc span round, sweat beading his brow.
“What the hell was that?!” The Captain barked, “Doc?”
Taking a deep breath, her medical officer tried to compose himself. Doc pushed his spectacles back up his muzzle and adjusting his mane,
“It’s a blocking spell alright, and a nasty one at that.”
“What’s that do?” Chalk asked, his eyes wide with shock, “Can’t you do something? Look at the state of him!”
Gretel placed a hoof on his shoulder, calming him down. Doc shook his head in dismay,
“I wish I could. I said before I’m not an expert in magical maladies and this is very much in that category I’m afraid. Whoever had put it in there has blocked part of Bracken’s memory; locked it away so to speak. Any attempt to access it or make him recall that particular ‘time’, has the sort of consequences you’ve seen here.”
Chalk stared at his friend who’d collapsed back onto the bed, his eyes shut and his breathing slowing. He looked so peaceful, like he was sleeping,
“Can’t we do something Doc? We can’t leave him like that.”
Gretel watched the black pony, and addressed the doctor,
“I’m inclined to agree Doc, we can’t just leave him in that state. Any suggestions?”
Doc held his hoof up to his forehead and squeezed his eyes shut, “Yes. Don’t speak to him about what happened between being captured and when you found him.” He sighed, “I’m sorry Gretel, I wish I could do more, but this is high end magic we’re talking about here.” He raised an eyebrow at Chalk, “What you need, is a unicorn.”
Chalk gave the Doctor a sarcastic grin as the blue pony headed for the ladder. Putting his hoof on the bottom step, Doc turned back,
“Gretel? Can I have a word?”
The Captain nodded, laying a hoof on Chalk’s shoulder,
“Chalky, stay with your friend and keep him company. I’ll go and see what Doc wants.”
Chalk smiled at her sadly, watching her disappear up the steps and the hatchway close behind her. The interior fell silent, other than for Bracken’s laboured breathing. He’d never seen him like this: so weak, so tired. Bracken’s face too, looked pale and worn. Whatever he was going through, or had been through, had aged him frighteningly. Chalk reached through the bars,
“Brack? Don’t worry, you’re going to be alright. I’m here for you, old friend.”
His words sounded empty even to him. He didn’t know if the black stallion would recover, hell, he didn’t even know what was wrong with him in the first place! In frustration Chalk leaned his head up against the bars. He’d never felt so helpless, not since that incident at the school all those years ago. The memory of it still haunted him even now. Some nights, what happened replayed through his dreams as if he were actually there, reliving it all again and again. Occasionally, the dream ponies would change, sometimes the words, the place where it happened, but it was always the same outcome. Chalk stared down at his hooves. They were clean now, but then, by Celestia, he thought he’d never get them clean. The stains had been in his fur for weeks, the smell lingering on his hooves. Only Bracken, his dearest and truest friend, had stood by him. He’d always been there for him; he was his strength and support when he felt alone and empty inside. Now, after all these years, Bracken needed him, and there was nothing Chalk could do. He took a shuddering breath and sighed it out, his hooves digging painfully into his haunches to try and keep himself from breaking down,
“Bracken, I…I’m sorry, I don’t know what to do…I’m sorry…” Chalk wiped his face with his foreleg and squeezed his eyes shut, “You’re my best friend, my only friend really and I can’t do anything for you. Luna buck me, I just don’t know what to do.”
“Luna…” Bracken’s lips barely moved, the word lost in the turmoil of his friend’s grief.
“You’ve always been there, Brack, and I want to be here for you too, I…” Chalk sighed, kicking a wooden bucket in frustration, “Damn it all!” He leaned back on the chair, staring up at the ceiling, “You know, I remember the first time I met you and your folks, dropping off that wooden handle for the pitchfork your dad had made for Mister Peardrop. Miserable old sod he was too, bitching and moaning about the price. He bloody well knew how much it was before he collected it too!” Chalk laughed, “We got him though…got him good.”
“I’ll say,” a croaking voice replied, “took two ponies to pull him out of the privy after that”
“BRACK!”
Chalk’s head whipped round to see Bracken sipping the water from his bowl, his eyes still bloodshot. Bracken looked up at him blearily,
“I can hear you droning on and on you know. I’m not dead.” The black stallion lifted his hoof to his forehead, “But I’m beginning to wonder…buck me, my head’s killing me!”
Chalk pressed up against the bars,
“Mix the powder in with the water, Doc says it’ll help with the headaches.” He smiled broadly, his eyes gleaming, “Thank the goddesses you’re alright dude, I thought…”
Bracken looked up at his friend,
“-Bloody hell, Chalky, I was only speaking to you a minute ago!” He groaned, reaching up to his head, “I don’t know who hit me, but they nearly knocked my bloody head off.” Bracken’s eyes peered up at his friend, “It wasn’t you was it?”
The grinning white unicorn waved his hooves in the air, “No!”
“Ah, good” Bracken said, sitting up and propping himself into the corner of the brig, “Care to tell me why I feel like I’ve got a hole in my brain the size of Celestia’s arse?”
********************
Gretel sank into her padded swivel chair and reached for the bottle of brandy,
“Doc?”
He waved it off with a hoof, “No thanks Gretel, you know I don’t drink”
She sniffed, “Always thought that was a bit odd you know, a sailing pony that doesn’t drink.” She knocked back the brandy in one slug, “Keeps the colds at bay, you know.”
The blue coated doctor pulled up a chair and lowered himself into it, closing his eyes with a sigh, “I never thought I’d be so glad to be back on board the old girl, Gretel”, he took out a long stemmed pipe from a pouch around his neck, “Mind if I smoke?”
Gretel shook her head and poured herself another drink, “I’ll admit” she said distantly, “for a while, I didn’t think we’d get out of there. The Legion isn’t exactly noted for being merciful.”
“Damn that Chips!” Doc said around his pipe, “If he’d kept his bloody mouth shut, we’d have been sitting pretty right now.”
Gretel shrugged, “True, but then our hosts didn’t exactly force drink down this neck.” She leaned back, stretching her forehooves, “Or any of us for that matter.”
The doctor harrumphed, “That stuff should have come with a health warning. ‘Just one’? Right! I was curious what it actually was, but now I think we’re all better off not knowing.”
Gretel sniggered, “Well, that’s true. Anyway, you wanted to speak to me about something. I expect it’s to do with our new guest?”
It was a subject Doc didn’t want to broach, but Gretel was a very open leader, sharing everything, or at least ‘most things’, with the crew. This time however, she seemed different somehow, more ‘happy’, if that made sense. Normally a very level headed mare, her encounter with that unicorn had obviously had an impact. Whether it would affect her ability to make rational decisions remained to be seen. Pushing his spectacles up his muzzle, he took a draw on the pipe and let out the smoke slowly,
“Gretel, that black stallion is trouble,” he looked her in the eye, “serious trouble.” The Captain waited, watching Doc patiently tamp his tobacco down before he continued, “Somepony has been put a spell deep inside him that they don’t want anypony to find.”
“The memory blocker you mentioned.” Gretel said quietly.
Doc nodded, “That’s part of it, but there was something more. You saw the way he reacted when I tried to probe for more information. Just before he began shouting, the aether spectrometer registered a pulse of magic on a wavelength I’ve never seen before; certainly not of that magnitude.”
Gretel leaned on her foreleg, “Just for a minute Doc, can you assume I ‘don’t’ know much about magic pulses, spectro-thingies and…whatever else it was you just said?”
He nodded, “Ah, apologies.” Doc cleared his throat, “Whoever put the spell inside him, has magic more powerful than anything I’ve ever seen. Now, I’m no expert, but I’ve seen my share of infiltration magic over the years, but this is on a whole new level.”
This didn’t sound good. One of the reason’s Doc was such a valued member of the crew was that he was versed in detecting spells used by their rivals and enemies. She trusted his judgement implicitly. When the Doc said it was serious, she had to take note. Gretel sipped her brandy thoughtfully,
“Doc, is he a risk to my ship?”
The blue coated officer scrubbed his mane, “I don’t know for sure Gretel, but I’ll tell you this: If somepony went to the trouble of embedding such an intricate spell into that fellow, then you’d think they’d want to know where he is, right?”
“Tracker?”
“Not like the ones we’ve seen before, no” Doc replied, “but I think it would be safe to assume there probably is one.”
Gretel gritted her teeth, “Damn it…”
“When do we make next port?” Doc asked.
“Not soon enough. We’ll have to divert to Spurs Anvil, and I don’t like it one bit.” The Captain motioned to a point on the map, “That dump’s run by that bloody mobster, Hay Wain, but I won’t endanger my ship for anypony, Doc.”
“The white unicorn’s not going to like it, Gretel. I know you and he…”
Gretel fixed the doctor with a hard stare, ““-not anypony, Doc. Do I have to say it again?”
Doc shook his head, “No.”
Gretel gazed absently into her brandy, watching the golden liquid swirling. It was like a visualisation of her emotions right then,
“There was something else wasn’t there?”
Taking a deep breath, Doc nodded, “Yes. Gretel, it’s Chalk Dust. I know he’s…’special’ to you, but you know how the crew feel about unicorns…”
Gretel’s hoof slammed onto the table, upsetting the glass and sending its shining contents across the ancient wood,
“-I know, damn it! Bloody goddess bucking superstition…again! First of all it was Cyclone and now, this…this…bollocks!” She slammed herself back into her chair.
Doc lifted a conciliatory hoof, “Gretel, look, things may settle down like they did with Cyclone, but that’s not the real reason I’m concerned.”
The Captain got out of her chair again, snatching up the bottle and trotted to the large windows at the back of her cabin. It was beautiful out there; the blue sky, the clouds below the keel. It was as if they were at sea, a calm, frictionless sea. She loved this ship and all her crew; they were family, each and every one of them. Gretel could feel tears beginning to sting at the corners of her eyes,
“What is it then, Doc?”
The doctors pink eyes looked up at her from over the top of his spectacles,
“You remember what happened at the bottom of the gangplank in Nightmare Moon’s camp?” Gretel nodded. Doc took a draw on his pipe, letting the smoke roll around his mouth, “Did you see how many of those minotaurs he cut down? Good goddesses, Gretel, did you see the state he was in afterwards? He didn’t seem to know what had happened.”
The Captain took a mouthful of brandy, “Get to the point, Doc.”
“The point Gretel,” Doc said levelly, “is that having Chalk on board is not only risking dissent with the crew, but if he has unstable magic of that power as well, he could be a risk to…” he closed his eyes, “the ship”.
Silence fell in the room.
Seconds dragged by, the doctor feeling increasingly uncomfortable until, with a final snort, Gretel slugged back the last of her brandy and leaned resignedly against the ancient wooden window frame,
“You don’t know that though, it’s only speculation isn’t it?” Her voice wavered, “Have you spoken to him about it?”
Doc shook his head, “No, I think you should Gretel. The decision on what to do can only be yours.”
There was a soft sound, barely audible, but it was like the gentle patter of rain. Doc closed his eyes, cursing himself. He didn’t want to hurt her, but the ship was everything to her. There would always be other stallions. After all, she’d only just met him, so what could she…
“Doc…”
“Yes, Gretel?”
“Thank you, I’ll give it some thought.” The Captain kept her back to the doctor, her voice strong and level, “Would you mind? I’d like to be alone now.”
“Aye, Cap’n.”
Doc stood to leave, pausing and half turning back to speak but thought better of it. Calmly, he left the cabin, closing the door moments before the brandy bottle impacted on the other side of it. He shook his head sadly,
“Oh, Gretel. I’m sorry.”
**************************
The ship slipped through the sea of clouds high above Equestria, her sails billowing in the strong winds. Ancient timbers creaked as the seasoned wood of her hull responded to the changes in the air temperature. Up here she was free, free of the cares and misery of the world far below. Yet in some ways, even here, the war was spreading its insidious taint. Her Captain loved her. She was more than a ship to the red mare, she was family, the last link with her earth pony father.
Gretel wiped the tears from her eyes and let out a shuddering breath. She didn’t cry often. The last time had been when her father passed away, right there on the deck of the ship he loved more than any mare, more so even that his own daughter. From that time on, Gretel vowed to herself never to let anypony affect her heart that way, to always keep her emotions under tight rein. Here, in her cabin, away from the duties and responsibility of command, she could be herself, and keep how she truly felt away from the crew. But…what Doc had said, he couldn’t be right…could he? She shook her yellow mane and took another bottle of brandy from the cupboard. The stock was getting low, she’d have to resupply soon. Maybe she could get some from the next port.
Reaching into the desk draw, she found the corkscrew and pulled out the cork with a loud ‘pop’. Wistfully, she wondered how much easier life would be to have magic, to have all that power at your disposal. Even the mundane act of uncorking a bottle would be simplicity itself; a simple glow of the horn and everything worked out the way you wanted it to. Only…it didn’t, did it? Chalky…
Gretel stared at the bottle then walked slowly over to the bed: the bed they’d shared. Closing her eyes, she leaned down, gently huffing the pillows. She could still smell him; that warm, spicy scent of stallion, the one who’d made her head spin. What was it with him? Why, how did he make her heart flutter whenever she looked into those green eyes of his? She shook her head and flopped onto the bed, taking a swig from the bottle,
“Oh Gretel, you silly mare…what have you done.” She murmured to the empty cabin. Lifting her foreleg, she ran her hoof down the wood panelling, “What should I do? What can I do?”
Finally, Gretel rose, placing the bottle back in the holder on the table and rammed her hat back on her head. She’d decided; she would find out for herself and to the devil with the doctor. With a huff, Gretel headed for the door and onto the deck,
“Mister Haggis, set course for Spurs Anvil. We’ll dock there for repairs and give the crew some well deserved shore leave.”
The old stallion called back as he span the wheel, “Aye, aye, Cap’n. Setting course for Spurs Anvil.”
The ship started a slow turn to starboard as Gretel disappeared below decks, carefully closing the hatch behind her.
“…but ‘Ebony’?” There was a bout of laughter, “Why didn’t you tell me? I thought you just had one name!”
“Why the hell do you think, smart arse?” It was Bracken, “It’s a bloody girl’s name!”
Chalk stifled a laugh, “I’m sorry Brack, I can’t…” he let out another chuckle, “…Ebony!”
“Shut up! If you mention this to anypony, and I mean anypony, Chalky, I’ll buck you into next week!”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” Chalk wiped his eyes with his foreleg, his sides still shaking with mirth. He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down, “Anyway, look, I’ll ask Gretel if you can join the crew. She’ll be glad of another set of hooves on board.”
“I don’t know,” Bracken said, his voice full of uncertainty, “we’re still in the army. If they find out we’ll be classed as deserters and hanged.”
“Pfff! They probably think we died at River Valley.” Chalk snorted, waving a hoof, “Besides, from what I saw, I doubt there’s an army left to go back to.”
Bracken’s eyebrows shot up, “Don’t say that! Good goddesses, Chalky, they were our friends!”
“Friends? You’re my friend, Brack. To hell with the rest of them, I say. I’m sick of polishing armour, parading, drill and the crap they called food there. And maybe it escaped your notice, but we were sent in like lambs to the bloody slaughter! They don’t give a damn if we’re alive or dead!” Chalk stomped a hoof, “To Tartarus with the whole damned lot of them!”
Bracken shook his head sadly, “And what about your mum, Chalky? How do you think she’d feel?”
“Mum? I…”
The black stallion looked away from his friend, staring into some unseen world, “…thinking her son, her only child, is gone…dead, lying rotting on some goddess forsaken field that nopony gives a flying feather about. Maybe you should think about that before you run off to play with your ‘pirate pals’.”
Chalky stammered, “Wha…Brack? What, you want to go back? To that hell? Have you lost your mind?!”
“NO!” Bracken shouted, “But I think you’ve lost yours! If you want to stay here, then fine, but I want off the first chance I get!”
“Well that’s just fine then, see if I care!” Chalk snapped, “Go and get yourself killed for some lost cause and see how your mum and dad feel then!”
Bracken turned away, glaring over his shoulder, “Oh, shut up Chalky, you’re really starting to piss me off.”
“Yeah?” Chalky yelled, kicking the stool over, “Well buck you too, you self righteous horses cock!”
The sound of a throat being cleared made the two stallions look up suddenly. Sitting halfway down the steps, a familiar red coated mare peered down at them, a sad smile on her face,
“Chalky, can I see you in my cabin?”
The white stallion snorted, his tail swishing angrily, “Sure, I think we’re done here.”
“Hey, don’t worry about me, it’s all en suite and even comes with a sponge on a stick for those hard to reach places. There’s a bucket to crap in and everything!” Bracken quipped bitterly as Chalk Dust followed the Captain up the steps, “Sure, you go off and play pirate you big foal!”
The hatch closed with a dull heavy finality, plunging the small room into silence. Only the occasional creak of the ships timbers and his own breathing were left, that and the memory of the argument with his best friend. Bracken thumped his head against the wall in anger and dismay; what was Chalky thinking? From what he’d told him, once you looked past his foalish infatuation with their peculiar situation, it was all too clear that these ponies were villains. Dear goddesses, couldn’t he see that? And that…that mare! The way he’d looked at her, ran after her like a puppy at its master’s call; he was all but wagging his tail! Bracken threw himself onto the cot and hauled the blanket over his head. Maybe, maybe this was all a dream: Nightmare Moon, the war, a flying ship…all of it. But of course, he’d wanted adventure rather than a secure, if somewhat boring future in the progressive world of metalwork hadn’t he? And boy had he got it. He squeezed his eyes shut, hoping it would all go away, that the fear, anger and horror’s that haunted him would fade like the memory of a dream with the morning light. The worst of though was his fight with Chalky. He’d have to make that up to him somehow, but…
“Damn it all…damn it, DAMN IT!” Bracken slammed his hoof into the wall in frustration, “Damn you too Chalky, you bloody idiot! Damn…” His voice trailed off as he pushed his muzzle into the pillow, a single salty tear rolling down his cheek. All he wanted was to forget everything, to turn the clock back to when they were just young colts, carefree and happy. Bracken took a deep breath and folded his forelegs over his eyes,
“I…I want to go home…”
**********************
Chalk followed the Captain into her cabin, trying to take his mind off the row he’d had with Bracken. That stubborn arse! Why couldn’t he see what a wonderful life they’d have here; the excitement, the adventure! And best of all, Gretel. He was still angry, but watching the shapely red mare’s rump disappearing through the door into her cabin was a wonderful distraction. She…she couldn’t sense him doing that could she?
“You alright, Chalky? You seem a little flushed.”
Chalk gasped in surprise as Gretel suddenly loomed in his vision, placing her hoof on his forehead,
“I can get Doc if you like.”
“No!” He squeaked, “No…I’m fine Gretel, honestly, don’t worry about it.”
She gave Chalk a doubtful look but waved him to the spare chair while she lowered herself into her own and poured them a drink each. Gretel gazed at the unicorn a moment, taking in his white coat, those big green eyes and of course, his cutie mark: a stick of chalk over a small pile of white ‘dust’, strangely clear on such a white stallion. He wasn’t a particularly strong looking fellow, in fact, quite average really. Certainly, he was nowhere near as powerfully built as even the most everyday deckhoof on her ship. And yet there was something about him, a sort of innocence that she…
Gretel coughed.
“Gretel? Maybe you should see Doc about that cough, it sounds nasty” Chalk reached out a hoof to her.
The red mare snatched hers back quickly, chugging her brandy, “It’s okay” she lied, grimacing at the jolt from the strong spirit, “dust, that all. Get’s very dusty in here sometimes.”
Chalk looked about the cabin curiously. If there was one thing it wasn’t, it was dusty. Gretel leaned back in her chair, her voice sounding unusually feminine,
“Chalky, what can you tell me about your magic?”
He screwed up his face, “My…magic? Well, I’m a unicorn so…”
“-No” Gretel interrupted, “I mean, specifically, like when you did that ‘thing’ by the gangplank.”
There was silence. Chalk simply…’froze’, staring hollowly at the table. Gretel closed her eyes, wishing for a moment that she’d been more careful with her words. Sometimes she could be so damned blunt! Sadly, she shook her head. This wasn’t fair, she shouldn’t be cornering him like this, but…damn it! She needed to know!
“Chalky?”
The white stallion’s head snapped up, his eyes wide, unfocussed, and then, slowly, he began to come back to himself. With a quick shake of his mane Chalk visibly relaxed, but his voice still quavered with anxiety,
“I…I’m sorry Gretel, I don’t really remember all that well.”
He wasn’t being honest with her. If there was one thing that Gretel had learned over the years it was how to sense when somepony was being dishonest. She gave him a hard look. If being the mare didn’t work, maybe being the Captain would,
“Chalky, I have to know, it’s important. Can you control your magic?”
“Yes!” He scrubbed his mane furiously, “I mean, most of the time, it’s just that…” He looked up at her, his green eyes glinting in the sunlight streaming through the windows making Gretel’s heart leap,
“Why are you asking me this?” he asked helplessly.
Gretel sighed, “Look Chalky, we don’t know each other very well yet.” He opened his mouth to speak. She knew what he was going to say but she beat him to it, “Yes, I know we…you know, but you saved my life down there and then passed right out. I’m in charge of this ship Chalky and I have to know everypony on my crew.” She leaned forward, “I don’t like secrets, not between a Captain and her crew, and not from you either. I’ll ask you again: what happened by the gangplank?”
Chalk’s mind reeled. Why was she asking this? What did it matter? If he told her, if he explained about his past, she’d hate him and then he’d have to leave the ship, and worse, he’d have to leave her. He couldn’t afford that, it wouldn’t…
A black polished hoof pushed a glass of brandy in front of him. Gratefully, he took it up, taking a mouthful of the fiery spirit. He’d have to do it wouldn’t he? He’d have to tell her, she’d…Oh, Celestia, why this? Why now? Things had been going so well, too. Chalk sighed, staring at the table rather than meeting Gretel’s eyes,
“I…” He closed his eyes a moment and started again, “When I was a foal, I found my magic difficult to control, so I only use it now for object manipulation and basic combat magic.”
The red mare shook her head slowly, “That was a little more than basic combat magic, Chalky. You turned a horde of those beasts into giblets and then flaked right out. If we hadn’t grabbed you when we did, you could have been left behind, or worse.” She refilled his glass, “Is this ability of yours one that you ‘unleash’ when you’re threatened? Like a sort of ‘last resort’ power? I’ve heard of…”
Chalk held up a hoof, stopping her short. He wouldn’t lie to her, he couldn’t, not to her. He smiled sadly, “I wish it was, but the truth is I don’t really know. It’s only happened once before, when I was a foal. It reacts to emotion, I know that much, but it’s not something I can just switch on and off at will. I wish it didn’t exist, Gretel. It’s frightening to have something like this inside you.”
“Does anypony else know about this?” The Captain asked.
Chalk nodded, “Bracken and the ponies in our village.”
Gretel wanted to know more, she had to, but Chalk’s voice carried so much pain it was obviously hurting him to even think of this. She steeled herself,
“What happened Chalky, in the village when you were a foal?”
He looked up at her slowly, his face bearing a haunted look, like he was staring through a hole into the past. Worse, it was a past he’d kept locked away, that nopony should ever see or hear of, and here she was, probing the lock to that mystery. Chalk gritted his teeth. He’d tell her, tell her everything, because to him, she was everything. If she hated him afterwards, at least he knew…
“Dad left when I was a foal.” He began, “One day, he was just…gone. Mum raised me on her own, just her and me. She was a craftsmare, a maker of carved wood and a weaver too, the best the village had. Well, the only one the village had really. Bracken’s family were all metal workers, and that’s how the two of us met and became friends.” He closed his eyes. This was…surprisingly liberating, to get it all out there. It hurt, sure, but…
Chalk sighed, “I went to the local school. It wasn’t a bad place, the teachers were friendly and understanding about my having lost my dad, but that was half the problem: I was treated differently. Being the son of a single parent, to the others foals it was like I was the teachers pet. Celestia knows I wish they’d treated me the same as everypony else, and I know they only thought they were doing what they did out of kindness, but the other foals resented it. That was when the bullying started.”
He shook his head, taking a sip of the brandy, “And of course there’s the matter of how I look. Not many ponies have my colouring, and it drew the bullies to me like bears to honey.” He shrugged, “They made my life a living hell. Day after day, week after week, months, even years I had to endure it…and then one day everything changed.”
Gretel sat in silence watching him in fascination as he continued,
“They wouldn’t leave me alone. They just pushed and pushed until…something inside me just ‘snapped’. The next thing I knew I woke up in a daze and there was…there was blood, everywhere.” Chalk stared into his brandy, “All I could hear was screaming, the shouts of the teachers, and then mum crying…” He looked up at Gretel, his eyes wet with tears, “They took the foals to the hospital and I was taken to a specialist to help me ‘control’ my magic.” He snorted, “Mum had to take me out of the school then, and I was home tutored. It never happened again until…well, you know.”
“I know.” Gretel placed her hoof on his, “But Chalky, you saved my life, you may even have saved the ship. If those things had got on board…”
Chalk shook his head sadly, “I’m not stupid, Gretel, I know what the others are thinking. I’m a danger to this ship, I’m out of control. Dear goddesses, it’s happened twice, twice! And now I’m looked at like I’m some sort of freak, an accident waiting to happen.”
Gretel stood up suddenly, leaning towards him, “No! No Chalky, good grief, I don’t see you like that at all.”
“Maybe not you” Chalk replied quietly, “But the others will. It’ll be like it was back then, with all the stares, all the whispers. It took years for me to be able to be able to go back into the village alone, years! And even then, I would still be whispered about when they thought I was out of earshot. When the war started and Bracken began to talk about enlisting, I thought it would be my chance to get out of there and start my life over again.” He laughed humourlessly, “Now look at me.”
Gretel walked around the table, lifting herself half onto it and took his head in her hooves, “I am looking Chalky” she said quietly. Gently, she placed a kiss on his nose, holding the young stallion to her chest, “I am.”