//------------------------------//
// Chapter Twenty - Echoes of the Past 
// Story: Ice Fall 
// by Bluespectre 
//------------------------------//

 

CHAPTER TWENTY

 

ECHOES OF THE PAST

 
In a dark alley, amidst the layers of dirt and decay, lay the still white form of a white unicorn. Only the stars far above bore witness to the faint rising and falling of his chest, the dark blood stains that matted his mane and fur. Nopony came down here, nopony had for an age…maybe not even since the days of the empire.
 
Chalk Dust floated in a world of nothingness. There was no pain, no up, no down, no light, not even any darkness. There was simply…nothing. He blinked slowly. It was so hard to think here, so difficult to remain ‘himself’, as if his own consciousness and being wanted to simply slip away. He tried to shake himself, but nothing obeyed him. He was a prisoner here, trapped within himself. The cold grip of panic began to snake its bitter claws around his heart; he had to get of here…he had to find…
 
“Hello?”
 
Goddesses, now he was hearing things!
 
“I don’t know if you can hear me, but if you can, I’m going to try and help you, understand?”
 
Chalk tried to think, to respond to the distant disembodied voice, but here in the nothingness he couldn’t do anything. He struggled, trying to make his body work, to move, to breath, to do…something, anything!
 
And then he felt it. Something moved, the distant feeling of his body shifting and responding to something warm and gentle. It was…light, yes, it was light! Little by little, the nothingness was becoming brighter, his body beginning to shine as if it were part of that light, the light of life itself. His heart leaped, and he felt himself pushing, pushing onwards towards the source of that light and the voice…goddesses, give him strength, he wanted so much to live! He took a breath, his lungs powering back to life, his muscles surging. He made one last push, a single word, a name coming to him as he screamed out to the world of sound and light,
 
“GRETEL!”
 
The indigo stallion peered at him curiously,
 
“Most interesting” He muttered, “And most enlightening.”
 
There was the clink of something metallic being placed down on a hard surface beside him, but the light above was so bright that Chalk could barely see anything other than shadows. He lifted his foreleg across his eyes to shield them.
 
“Oops! Sorry about that…” The stallion shifted what looked like a circular disk of intense lights to one side and tapped the thing with his hoof. A second later the lights went out, replaced by a more tolerable series of more regular lanterns. The Indigo stallion reached down and lifted one of Chalk’s eyelids,
 
“Now hold still, I’m going to put some drops in your eyes.”
 
Chalk blinked furiously as the cold fluid plopped into his eyes, first the left, then the right. The stallion unbuckled a series of straps and passed him a bowl of liquid,
 
“It’s water,” he explained as if in answer to some unasked question, “with an infusion of local herbs. They taste a bit peculiar, but it’ll perk you up in no time.”
 
The room seemed to shift, and together with a series of loud clanks and thumps, Chalk suddenly found himself sitting upright. The indigo pony walked off to sit at a desk and lifted up a quill in the glow from his magic. Chalk’s eyes went wide,
 
“You’re a unicorn!”
 
The odd fellow was busy writing something in a book and didn’t look up,
 
“Remarkable observation skills” he said rather sarcastically, “your eyes are working, then.”
 
“No! I mean…” a sudden pain lanced across Chalk’s head, quickly subsiding but not before the nausea made him begin to heave.
 
“There’s a bucket next to you” the stallion called over, “Use that if you please.”
 
But as quickly as it had come, the wave of gut wrenching sickliness faded away like the pain. He lifted his hooves and checked them. They were a little cracked here and there but nothing too bad. His coat was dirty, unsurprisingly, and his muscles ached, but he was very much alive and, he was pleased to discover, still in one piece. Chalk looked around the room. It was a good size, with a folding bed type affair in the centre, occupied by himself currently, and lights, pipes, desks, drawers, and all manner of mundane as well as arcane furnishings. It was all so bewildering he didn’t know where to look next!
 
A little unsteadily, Chalk jumped down off the bed, testing his legs. Everything seemed to be working as it should, but…what the hell was going on here? One minute he was having that row with Gretel and the next…
 
“Oh…”
 
The stallion sat at the desk continued to write, “’Thank you’ will suffice” he muttered.
 
Chalk stared at him, “I…oh, yes. Thank you.” He cleared his throat, “Um, I don’t seem to be able to remember how I got here…”
 
The indigo unicorn suddenly spun round in his chair, “Concussion.” He said levelly, “It can happen with heavy blunt trauma to the back of the cranium. He pointed his hoof at Chalk meaningfully, “You sir, are one lucky pony. If I hadn’t found you when I did, you’d be just one more corpse for the rats and seagulls.”
 
“Oh…” Chalk swallowed. The mental image of being devoured by vicious, shrieking scavengers flashed briefly through his mind making his knees shiver. Being eaten had always been a fear of his, ever since foalhood when Great Uncle Cruet, the explorer in the family, had discovered a Hydra’s nest. The only reason they ever found out what had happened to the hapless stallion was the discovery of his hat with very large teeth marks in it…that and an open bottle of barbecue sauce sitting nearby.
 
“Well then,” the seated unicorn said returning to his work, “I’m glad I could help. Good day.”
 
Chalk felt a compulsion to walk towards the door, but…
 
“Sir, I don’t know your name.”
 
“Didn’t I say?” the indigo fellow replied, “I don’t suppose it really matters, but it’s Strata”
 
Chalk walked over to him and picked up the stallion’s hoof which he shook firmly, “Chalk Dust, but you can call me Chalky.” He grinned, “Well, Strata, I know I said it before, but…thank you. I don’t know why you helped me, but thank you none the less.”
 
“Why did I help you?” Strata asked curiously. He paused for a moment and then shook his head sadly, “Ponies help each other, Mister Dust. It’s something people in this place may have all but forgotten, but not me.”
 
“But why are you here?” Chalk asked, his curiosity piqued, “You’re the first unicorn I’ve seen since I arrived here. Well, other than the ex-prisoners we dropped off, but that’s another…”
 
“-You came in on that ship?!” Strata nearly shot out of his chair as he leaned towards his startled guest, “Do you know what that is?”
 
“Well, duh!” Chalk rolled his eyes, “It’s a flying ship of course. Since I’ve been on it, I did kinda notice?”
 
“Great gods, pony, it’s from the Empire, don’t you see!?” Strata shouted excitedly.
 
Chalk jumped out of his way as the excited indigo unicorn hopped down from his chair and began rushing about pulling out all manner of scrolls and boxes. He gave himself another stretch and trotted over to a large mirror hanging on the wall while the chaos behind him continued unabated. The reflection of him didn’t look too bad: his mane could do with a wash, there was a lot of dried blood in there by looks of it and it would probably stain, if it hadn’t already. He opened his mouth, twisting his head from side to side. Good, all his teeth seemed okay too. His eyes were a bit bloodshot, but that wasn’t all that surprising. Still, those scars were a bit unsightly. Maybe if he found a good magical healer, they may be able to…
 
“Here!”
 
Strata slammed his forehooves down of a large angle drawing board, smoothing out the edges of a very yellowed scroll. He flicked some sort of switch which made a bright light pop into life. Chalk jumped back in alarm, he’d never seen anything like that! Or…wait, no, he had! Those lamps on the ship! He reached out a hoof towards the odd contraption, the small glowing ‘things’ inside swirling and glowing brightly,
 
“What…are those” he muttered.
 
Strata turned away from the scroll irritably, “What? Oh! Those are…” He paused, his features softening as he took in the look of fascination on the white unicorn’s face, “They’re a subclass of Twitter Mite, Electralis Fulminatum if you want the old Equestrian for them. The Empire bred them for various applications, including, but not limited to, lighting.”
 
“The Crystal Empire…” Chalk murmured, “I used to think it was a story.”
 
“You and everypony else”, Strata snorted, lifting over a large magnifying glass, “Here, look at this.”
 
The scroll he indicated featured writing in a language Chalk had never seen before. It was a strange, angular writing, but there, as clear as day in the bright light from the amazing lamp, were detailed pictures of several galleons. He couldn’t recognise the names, but he could certainly spot the King Sombra’s Revenge when he saw her.
 
Strata stroked his hoof across the scroll reverently, his voice low and full of wonder,
 
“The Amethyst Fleet”  
 
“The what?” Chalk asked impulsively.
 
“The Amethyst Fleet” Strata tapped his hoof on one of the peculiar looking words, “This is part of a shipwrights chart, detailing the various sky galleons of the Crystal Empire. Your vessel is one of the last completed before the Empire was consumed.”
 
“Con…” A shiver ran down Chalks back, “Consumed?”
 
“Dimension magic” Strata said mysteriously, his chestnut eyes glinting in the lamplight. He suddenly turned back to the scroll, “Or so the stories say at least.”
 
“Is that why you’re here?” Chalk summised, “Here in Spurs Anvil? I know it was part of the Crystal Empire once. Well, I was told it was, so…”
 
“Oh, it was” Strata said nodding emphatically, “and I have been here for the last few years examining its secrets, learning all there is to know about the Empire.” He suddenly slammed his hooves down on the floor, “But I know so little!” he spat, “The Empire was a place of true wonder, of…of crystal ponies! Can you imagine anything so…amazing?!”
 
Chalk sat down on his haunches while the indigo pony walked around the room flicking on lamp after lamp until it shone like a summers day. One by one, the innumerable strange and wonderful treasures stored within Strata’s room were revealed, leaving Chalk sitting there dumbfounded, his eyes growing wider by the moment and his mouth hanging open in wonder…
 
“See…SEE!” Strata laughed, waving a hoof at the many pictures, charts, models and other strange items hanging from the ceiling or sitting on shelves, “Here was true civilisation; here was where the future lay!” Strata stood on his hind legs and twirled around, utter ecstasy written all over his face, “Can’t you see, Chalky?”
 
Chalk nodded, “It’s…wonderful…”
 
“I knew a fellow unicorn would understand!” Strata laughed, trotting over to a cabinet and taking out a bottle of sparkling red liquid, “I knew…I knew!” He took down two glasses from the shelf and uncorked the bottle with a loud pop, “Here”
 
Taking the glass in his hooves, Chalk stared at the liquid within; it seemed to be moving on its own, sparkling and dancing before him as if alive. He closed his eyes and sniffed it tentatively. The smell of exotic fruits, of fresh mountain air and days of sunshine and joy tickled his nose invitingly. Before his knew it, he’d taken a mouthful of it.
 
“My…goddesses,” Chalk breathed, “That is…”
 
“-Wonderful, isn’t it?” Strata said, sighing happily, “Sheer ecstasy in a bottle.”
 
“What is it?”
 
Strata waved a hoof nonchalantly, “The translation is a little difficult, but I believe it is called Soulberry Wine. Another translation may be ‘Spirit’ berry, but I can’t be certain.” He downed the last of glass, licking his lips, “So much has been lost, my friend…so, so much.” Strata sank into his chair and waved Chalk to another, “Now…I want to know all about this ship of yours, and perhaps, in the morning, we can go and see her?”
 
Chalk smiled to himself. He was sure he was forgetting something, but that wine…!
 
“Um…may I?” he held out his glass.
 
“Of course!” Strata laughed, “There’s plenty more.” He poured another measure out for them both.
 
“Is this from the Empire?” Chalk asked, intrigued.
 
Strata shook his head, “The recipe is. I have one original bottle left, but it’s simply priceless and I’ve no intention of opening that! Thank the gods, I found the recipe for sale on the market here in port.” He shook his head and gave a short derisive laugh, “Something so priceless, and those ignorant earth ponies had it on a flea market. Can you imagine? A flea market!”
 
Chalk winced a little at the ‘ignorant earth pony’ comment. Many of the crew, in fact, all of the crew, were earth ponies. He scratched his chin in thought…why was that?
 
“Strata? Why aren’t unicorns allowed on ships?”
 
“Oh, superstitious fluff and nonsense!” The indigo stallion laughed, waving his hoof, “Earth pony ‘wisdom’” He held his hooves up, emphasising the last word, “How could they understand something as incredible and magical as the Crystal Empire? It’s for creatures of magic, unicorns, to truly appreciate.” He lay a hoof on Chalk’s shoulder as he nodded to himself.
 
“The Captain’s an earth pony” Chalk said, feeling a little defensive, “She…”
 
“-Ah! Well, there is a reason for that!” Strata clopped his hooves together and pulled out a beaten and battered old book, “Look!”
 
There was more of the alien hoofwriting, but thankfully, there were pictures too. The one Strata pointed to was small, but it quite clearly represented a group of unicorns casting some sort of spell upon what looked like an earth pony bowing before them. Behind the pony was the image of a galleon, no doubt a sky galleon from Strata’s reaction.
 
“What does it mean?” Chalk asked.
 
“It’s a bestowing of magic upon the lineage of Captains.” Strata tapped the image with his hoof, “The master shipwrights would…” he waved a hoof in the air, searching for the right word, “…’bestow’, the give of magic upon a creature that had none - an empty vessel, waiting to be filled with the wonder of the Empires finest magics. Can you picture it? The sheer bliss, the indescribable joy of receiving such a gift of such tremendous magnanimity; it makes my heart cry out for the return of those wondrous days, Chalky.” He sniffed, “It really does.”
 
Chalk scratched his head, “The Empire vanished ages ago though, and the Captain’s not that much older than me…I think?”
 
Actually, come to think of it, how old was she? He’d never asked. But, did it really matter? Stallions tended to go for younger mare’s that was true, but…she was so…
 
“-Breeding.”
 
Chalks mind felt like it had been completely de-railed, “I’m sorry?”
 
“I said, it’s breeding” Strata announced, pointing a hoof at him, “Your Captain must have inherited it from one of her parents, and their parents before them.” He laughed, spinning in his chair, “I see! My gods, it all makes sense now!” Strata leaned back and held his head in his hooves, “I couldn’t quite see it all; my eyes, so long blinded by the callous insensitivity of what Equestria has become…OPENED!”
 
Strata lifted his glass and tossed his silver mane dramatically,
 
“Thank you, Chalky, thank you from the bottom of my heart.”
 
“For what?” Chalk asked in surprise.
 
Strata laughed out loud, “For helping me to see, my friend! Without you, without another unicorn, I was but a spark in the darkness of the world. Now, now with your help, we can discover even more!”
 
Chalk’s mood faltered, “Um…look, Strata, I’m supposed to be looking for something.”
 
Strata furrowed his brow, “For what?”
 
Suddenly feeling unsure, Chalk scrubbed his mane nervously, “I…I don’t know…”
 
“In which case, why worry?” The indigo unicorn smiled, “Another glass?”
 
Chalk reached out with his hoof, “Sure…”
 
“Right then,” Strata said, “Time for you to answer some of my questions, Mister Dust. Fair enough?”
 
“Aye,” Chalk nodded, holding up the glass of liquid up to the light, “I think that’s fair.”
 

*********************************

 
The sun was rising in the sky, its gentle light and natural warmth falling across the white unicorn’s muzzle. He yawned and stretched his legs, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. What time was it? Standing, his hoof knocked the empty wine bottle sending it rolling across the bench top.
 
“Wha…?”
 
The sleepy Strata smacked his lips, opening his eyes with a groan,
 
“Oh gods…I think I drank too much…”
 
The warming light created shadows across the room. Strata’s coat, already dark, looked almost black. Chalk chuckled, he looked just like…
 
“Oh, buck me bloody sideways! Bracken!”
 
“Eh?”
 
Chalk was all but dancing on his hooves, “Bracken! He’s my friend, the one I was supposed to be looking for!” He span around in a circle, “Damn it! I haven’t…where’s all my stuff!?”
 
“You didn’t have anything on you when I found you,” Strata sighed, “hang on…”
 
Agonisingly slowly, the now frantic Chalk watched the indigo stallion gradually pull himself unsteadily from the chair and walk over to the hat stand. Reaching up, he took down a wide brimmed hat, a set of panniers and a saddle pack,
 
“There, I want them back though. They’re only a loaner, okay?”
 
Chalk felt flustered all of sudden, “Sure! Look, Strata, thanks, I don’t know what to say…”
 
“-Then just…Oh! Hang on, you may need this too…” Strata trotted over to a cupboard and clicked the lock open. With a slight creaking noise, the lid opened and he reached inside, taking out a long cloth wrapped item. Chalk’s eyes went wide. He could tell what it was from just the shape alone.
 
Slipping the cover off, Strata lifted the sword up to the light, “I have two. Maybe the only two left in Equestria, who knows.” He bobbed his head to Chalk Dust, “I want you to have this my friend.”
 
Strata hoofed the long sleek weapon to the shocked white unicorn. Chalk licked his lips, virtually trembling in excitement. He couldn’t explain why he felt so nervous, maybe it had been the drink, perhaps even the proximity of so many fascinating antiques, but here, in his hooves, he held an object of such age and antiquity it was making his heart race. He stared down at the scabbard. It was crafted from a black leather like material, the embossed silver furnishings along its length displaying images of fish, the sea and strangely appropriately, sailing ships. The hilt was of silver again, only it had a slick, almost crystalline structure to it that made his skin tingle in anticipation. Chalk took a breath and slipped the baldric over his head. Standing on his hind legs, he took the classic fighting stance he’d been taught in the army and, with a single fluid movement, released the blade from its scabbard.
 
There was no sound, no ring, no clatter of metal on wood. Instead, there was only the barest hiss, as if the very air itself had been sliced in two. Chalk followed the lines of the blade - it was flawless. The shining crystalline metal, oil black, shining like the deepest onyx, was a thing of the most unnaturally beauty and deadly grace he had ever beheld. He shook his head in wonder.
 
“You like it?” Strata smiled, “It’s yours for as long as you need it.”
 
Chalk paused. His fascination with the magnificent weapon had blanked his mind. He couldn’t take this! It wasn’t right! He’d only just met the pony who’d not only saved his life, but was giving him something that was probably worth a small kingdom. He opened his mouth to speak, but Strata held up a hoof,
 
“Before you say what I know you’re going to say” he smirked, “I have another.” Strata laughed, “Chalky, you’ve helped me more than you could possibly know. However,” He raised an eyebrow, “there is a condition.”
 
Chalk waited.
 
“I want a tour of the Revenge”
 
Damn it all! He didn’t have time for this! Bracken could be miles away by now, or…or worse. He couldn’t go with Strata for a bloody tour of the ship now! And besides, Gretel had told him to get out in no uncertain terms. No, he couldn’t...unless…
 
“Strata, I’m sorry, I can’t do that. I have to find Bracken, he’s my friend. But…” he held up a hoof at the disappointed look that Strata was giving him, “If you ask for Stock when you get to the Revenge, tell him Chalky will forgive him for the ‘Balta Incident’ if he shows you around the ship.” He smiled to himself. That should do it.
 
“You think that would work?” Strata asked uncertainly.
 
“Of course!” Chalky laughed, “He nearly killed me!”
 
“It’s a strange company you keep, Mister Dust” Strata muttered shaking his head in wonder, “Now, I suppose you’ll want to get going. Just, remember to bring back my gear when you’re passing next, okay?”
 
“Of course.” Chalk reached out and embraced the surprised indigo stallion, “Take care my friend.”
 
A few minutes of adjusting gear and farewells later, Chalk trotted off into the new morning.
 

***************************

 
Gretel walked slowly back along the dockside, her heart heavy in her chest. She’d searched all night, and the sun was already rising up above the horizon. The shore party had come back empty hoofed too, even Pickles’ girls had drawn a blank and, by the sounds of it, they knew virtually everypony in port. Quite literally, she thought to herself irritably. Where the hell was he? The old farts at the Fighting Cocks had seen the two of them but there’d been no sign of either of them since Bracken had been spirited away into the night. As for Chalky…she shook her head in dismay, at least she hadn’t found a crumpled corpse, and here in Spurs Anvil, bodies weren’t exactly uncommon. Good goddesses, she’d even asked those brutal moronic thugs at the watch house!
 
She sighed. The two stallions had made quite a scene in the port, and now they’d vanished like morning mist.
 
“Captain Gretel?”
 
The red mare looked up bleary eyed at the griffin who was addressing her,
 
“Yes?”
 
“I have a message from Mister Wain.”
 
The griffin passed her a scroll, bowed and then walked away without another word. Gretel rolled her eyes,
 
“Charming.”
 
“What is it?” Pickles asked stretching her neck, “Any news?”
 
Gretel sank to her haunches and opened the scroll. It was written in incredibly neat script, certainly better than she could manage, but then he probably didn’t write with his bloody mouth did he? Blasted creature…
 
Clearing her throat she read in silence, her heart sinking even further than she thought possible. That was it then wasn’t it? All that searching, all that effort, for nothing. Damn him!
 
“Gretel?”

The Captain rolled up the parchment and fixed the sea green mare with a look,
 
“I’ve got to leave.”
 
Pickles took a step forward,
 
“What? What do you mean ‘You’ve got leave’? You can’t just go!”
 
“That’s exactly what I’ve got to do”, Gretel replied levelly, “I’ve got no choice…”
 
Her mother shook her head irritably, “’You’ve got no choice’…You always have a choice, Gretel, always.” She reached out with a hoof, but Gretel backed away shaking her head. “So that’s it then, is it?” Pickles said angrily, “You’re just going to abandon them, just up and off, just like that!”
 
“I said I don’t have a choice!” Gretel nearly shouted, “I have a ship to run, remember? What I want comes last!”
 
“It doesn’t have to!” Pickles snapped, stomping a hoof, “For the goddesses’ sake, Gretel, think about Chalk!”
 
Gretel’s mind was in turmoil, her chest heaving. She looked up at her mother with tears forming in her eyes,
 
“I am! Damn it, mother, what do you think we’ve been doing all bloody night? He’s gone!”
 
“You don’t know that, Gretel,” Pickles replied sourly, “You’re just finding excuses now.”
 
“Damn it!” Gretel spat angrily tossing her mane, “I don’t have time for this.” She turned her back on the incensed sea green mare and began walking away.
 
“That’s right!” Pickles shouted to her retreating form, “You walk away! Leave those who need you to fend for themselves, abandoning your loved ones for the sake of that bloody ship!” Her voice cracked as she shrieked, Frilly holding her back, “You’re just like your bloody father!”
 
Gretel hung her head as she walked, wiping the tears away from her eyes. As much as her mother angered her, as much as she hated her for what she’d done all those years ago, what she said…goddesses damn her…
 
The ships watch called back to the others on deck that their Captain was back. Cyclone poked her head over the side,
 
“Cap’n?”
 
Gretel kept her voice neutral,
 
“Get the crew aboard and prepare to get underway, Bosun”
 
“Aye, aye Cap’n”
 
In moments, the deck was a hive of activity, with ponies rushing up from below decks to ready the Revenge for departure. Gretel took off her hat and sword, passing them to one of the deck hands who took them away to her cabin. She’d have a wash later, after they were on their way. She trotted up to the helm where the enigmatic form of Mister Haggis was already checking the compass and other navigational equipment were ready. He was good like that, and a better helmspony she could never ask for. She hoofed him the scroll,
 
“When we leave dock, set course for the co-ordinates on there, Mister Haggis” She clopped him on the shoulder.
 
“Aye, aye, Cap’n.”
 
Goddesses, she was so tired. Her legs felt like lead as she climbed up to the quarterdeck. It was a cool morning, and the wind was just picking up, but the fatigue of being up all night was wearing on her. She gave her yellow mane a shake. The emotional turmoil and heartache she felt was another matter. Gretel closed her eyes and willed away the image of the smiling white unicorn, his cheeky grin, and the feel of his soft hooves…
 
“Good morning!”
 
Gretel yawned, “Good morning”.
 
Wha?! Her eyes flew open and she span to face the indigo coated unicorn standing behind her carrying a notepad and quill. The creature nodded to her and smiled, trotting off to peer inquisitively at part of the rigging. Gretel’s mouth opened and closed several times before she was able to gather her wits,
 
“What’s that bloody unicorn doing on my ship?!” Gretel bellowed, pointing at the wide eyed stallion who was unconcernedly carrying on making notes as if she didn’t exist, “Wha…? Bloody hell fire, are we running free bloody tours now? Stock! STOCK!”
 
The brown stallion appeared from the hatch on the deck and trotted up beside her, carrying a tray of tea and biscuits,
 
“Morning Cap’n, I didn’t expect you back so soon.”
 
The Captain looked ready to explode,
 
“Apparently not!” She slammed her hoof on the deck, “What the blistering buggering hell is going one here? First it’s that bloody Pickles and her tarts, and now…” she waved her hoof, “whoever the bloody hell he is!”
 
The indigo stallion trotted over, a huge smile on his face,
 
“Ah, tea! Excellent!”
 
His horn glowed, the cup floating off the tray along with a biscuit.
 
“Don’t use bloody magic aboard my ship!” Gretel nearly screamed, “What the hells going on?! Stock, get him off here, now!”
 
“You must be the Captain.” The indigo unicorn said around a mouthful of crumbs, “Chalky told me all about you.” He smiled, “I have a few questions I’d like to…”
 
“-Chalky?” Gretel reached out and grabbed him, making the pony choke on the biscuit, “You saw him? Recently?”
 
“Well, yes” he replied brushing the crumbs from his coat, “I found him in the street. Somepony had cracked his skull like an egg…’pop’!”
 
Gretel thought she was going to scream,
 
“And?”
 
The stallion looked puzzled for a moment and then nodded to himself,
 
“Oh…don’t worry, he’s fine now. I patched him up. Fascinating fellow he is too, we had a really good chat last night. I think we went on a lot longer than I’d expected though!” The stallion chuckled, “Would you believe I actually fell asleep!”
 
“Stock…” Gretel hissed, “You have command. Mister Haggis has our course.” She walked over to the indigo stallion, “And you…’Sir’, are coming with me.”
 
“Will I be able to see the Captains cabin?” The stallion all but squealed in delight, “How exciting!”
 
“Oh, yes” the Captain muttered, pushing the newcomer to the steps, “Very ‘exciting’.”
 
The two trotted down the steps to the Captains cabin, the indigo stallion all but leaping through the door as she slammed it shut behind him. He was an excitable sort by the looks of him, some may even say eccentric, but wasn’t that some sort of unicorn trait? Chalky had a certain liveliness about him that appealed to her, but this one looked to be in a different league altogether. She watched him as he all but danced around the cabin, taking notes, running his hooves over things and…now he was sitting in her chair!
 
“Off!” She snapped, pushing the stallion out her chair, “Sit there!” She pointed to the seat opposite her.
 
The unicorn happily sat down and immediately began staring all around the cabin like a newborn foal taking in the fascinatingly unfamiliar world about them. Gretel leaned on the table and fixed him with her best ‘Captain-ly’ stare,
 
“Who are you?”
 
The stallion stopped what he was doing and stared back at her with his big chestnut eyes, “My name is Agate Strata,” he bowed politely, “but you may call me Strata, my Captain.” Gretel could feel her eye twitching. “I am,” he continued, “what you may call a historian, antiquarian, collector and librarian.” He smiled, “A hoarder of knowledge and investigator of days long passed.” He held out a hoof dramatically, “Far back from the mists of time, I travel through the pages of…”
 
“-Yes, yes, yes!” Gretel puffed, tapping her hoof on the desk, “But why are you on my ship, and what do you know about Chalk Dust?”
 
“Oh, forgive me.” Strata cleared his throat and put down his notepad and quill, “My excitement of being aboard an actual vessel of the Amethyst Fleet has quite thrown me for a loop and I’ve forgotten my manners.” Strata shook his silver mane, “Your friend, Mister Dust was hurt. I found him in the street after he made quite the clatter, I can tell you. As I said, I used magic to heal him” he tapped his horn with a grin, “and we had the most delightful chat about the old Empire and your magnificent vessel.”
 
“Go on…” Gretel nodded.
 
“Well,” Strata said downing the last of his tea, “We had a few drinks, fell asleep, and then when he woke up he’d remembered what he was looking for. Some chap called ‘Bracken’ apparently.”
 
Gretel’s heart felt like it would burst. She swallowed, “So where is he now?”
 
Strata shook his head, “I have no idea. I gave him some things to help him on his way though, including some goodies which he will no doubt enjoy and also prove to be of particular use on his quest.”
 
“So you don’t know where he is?” she asked.
 
“No, Captain.”
 
Gretel closed her eyes, the light of hope snuffed out in an instant,
 
“So why are you aboard, Mister Strata,” she said quietly, “Care to explain?”
 
“Mmm” Strata munched down the last of his biscuit, “I study the histories and antiquities of the old Crystal Empire. Young Mister Dust said I could speak to his friend, Master Stock, for a tour if I mentioned something to do with ‘Balta’? He seemed to know what it meant and very kindly showed me around your fascinating vessel.”
 
“And he did.” Gretel muttered under her breath.
 
She leaned back in her chair and stared up at the ceiling. At least Chalky wasn’t floating dead in the harbour, or a bloated corpse for the various vermin that lived in the port. But running off like that! What a bloody fool! He could be anywhere by now, and probably facing dangers that anypony in their right mind would have balked at. She leaned her forehead on her hoof.
 
“Gretel?” It was Doc.
 
She didn’t look up, “Yes?”
 
“I need to speak to you about…oh!” he noticed the indigo pony and nodded, “I’m sorry, I didn’t know you had company.”
 
“It’s alright, Doc, our friend here appears to know our missing Chalk Dust.”
 
“Strata…” The indigo unicorn held out his hoof and shook the Doctor’s enthusiastically, “Charmed”
 
“Um…yes. Doc, please to meet you.” Doc looked to the Captain, “A friend of Chalk’s?”
 
“Well, more of a brief acquaintance, I’m afraid” Strata smiled, “I’m more of a historian really, specialising in the Crystal Empire and the Amethyst Fleet. That’s why I decided to set up shop, so to speak, in Spurs Anvil.”
 
“Historian?” Doc peered at him over his spectacles, “The Amethyst Fleet?” He sat down on his haunches and scratched his muzzle, “Fascinating.”
 
“Isn’t it though?” Strata said happily, “To think the king built so few of these wonderful vessels and yet some of them still exist to this day! Truly a remarkable example of the quality of the Imperial Shipwrights trade, wouldn’t you say?”
 
The Captain tapped her hoof on the desk, “Yes…truly fascinating. Now, I’m sorry to interrupt your scintillating conversation, gentlecolts, but Mister Strata here will need to put ashore. You know the rule.”
 
“Er…Captain, that may prove a little difficult?” Doc said raising an eyebrow.
 
“What are you talking about?” Gretel asked irritably, “We’re…oh damn it all…” She face hoofed. With all the chatting and distractions, she hadn’t noticed the Revenge lift from the water. She looked into the large brown eyes of the smiling stallion before her and groaned aloud. It had happened again, hadn’t it?! Bloody unicorns!
 
Strata suddenly rushed over to the large leaded light windows at the rear of the Captains cabin, lifting his hooves up to the frame and gasped in awe,
 
“My gods!” he breather, “We’re flying! We’re actually flying!”
 
“And if you want to remain ‘flying’” Gretel said, advancing on him, “You WON’T use any more magic on my ship, or you’ll be ‘flying’ over the bloody side. Do I make myself clear?”
 
Strata gave her a curious look,
 
“You don’t actually believe all that superstitious nonsense do you?” He chuckled, “You earth ponies! So quaint in your archaic beliefs!”
 
Gretel took a deep breath and reached out, gripping the stallions muzzle in her hooves, “I said…’Do I make myself clear’?”
 
Strata swallowed, his eyes locked onto the Captains,
 
“Perfectly…” he squeaked.
 
“Excellent!” Gretel let her gaze linger on the peculiar stallion for a moment before releasing him, “Doc, can you ask Master Stock to see that our guest has quarters set up for him?” She grinned menacingly, “In the hold.”
 
“Aye Captain.” Doc said, rising to his hooves.
 
Gretel fixed him with a look, “And then you can tell me what it was you wanted to tell me.”
 
“Aye, Aye, Captain.”
 
The two stallions left the cabin, leaving Gretel to her own thoughts once more. She poured over the map on the desk, checking and re-checking the details left with her by Hay Wain’s messenger while she tapped her teeth with her a of compasses. Something didn’t seem right here; the co-ordinates were deep within the area known as the ‘Cloud Sea’ near the griffin kingdom, but there was no landmass there. Griffins were certainly skilled at crafting weapons, that fact was well known, but not so much for magic, and this stank of it. Maybe they’d employed unicorns? She nodded to herself. That had to be it. If there was one thing griffins were noted for above all else, it was making money and they’d certainly have more than enough gold to pay for something suitably ‘impressive’. She opened the accompanying script from Hay Wain. It was addressed to ‘Concerned’, very cryptic! But within it was the real prize, the promise of payment from the ports governor for two hundred barrels; two hundred deadly containers of the most destructive material known to pony kind. She smiled wryly to herself. Either the Celestians or the Legion, maybe even both, would pay well for a cargo such as this, and when they did, the Revenge and her crew would simply sail away and let that lot wipe each other out. She glowered at the map, her teeth grinding…Princesses…she owned them nothing! If it wasn’t for them, for what they’d done, the Empire would still be here and not a…a bunch of ‘interesting’ relics for some nutty unicorn or the subject of some randy old mares bloody novel!
 
There was a knock at the door.
 
“Come in”
 
Doc bobbed his head as he entered, bringing a member of the crew with him this time.
 
“What’s this?” Gretel asked. She didn’t like the look of this at all.
 
Doc nudged the crew pony forward, “Come on Dinks, tell the Captain what you saw.”
 
The piebald stallion hung his head and wrung his hooves, muttering nervously.
 
“Dinks?” The Captain asked, “What’s up? You can tell me, I only ever ask for honesty from my crew.”
 
“I…I know Cap’n” he mumbled, “But…it’s one of me crewmates…you know how it is.”
 
Gretel sighed, rubbing her eyes with her foreleg. Damn it! If she wasn’t so tired, she’d be able to think better. As it was, everything was piling up at the worst possible time and in the worst possible way.
 
“I understand, Dinks” she said calmly, “Doc, get him a brandy would you.”
 
The Doctor poured a glass out which the crewpony quickly downed gratefully. Gretel raised her eyebrows, encouraging the stallion to speak.
 
“Well, Cap’n,” Dinks explained, “I don’t likes tae speak badly o’ another member o’ the crew, see. But y’know when we was, like, at Madam Pickles’ place…”
 
He looked up, suddenly embarrassed.
 
“I know what stallions do at Madam Pickles’, Dinks.” Gretel smiled, “I’m not a prude you know.”
 
“Aye Cap’n.” Dinks said, a look of relief passing over his face, “But, y’see when we was there, me an a couple o’ the boys went lookin’ for a drink. Pickles’ is a bit dear on the ale side an’ the Full Moon was kickin’ off.”
 
Gretel nodded, “Mmm, I heard…” And also ‘who’ was involved too!
 
“Well, see, me an’ the boys clocked a pony comin’ out o’ the guvnor’s in a cloak talkin’ to some dodgy looking lubbers who was wearin’ cloaks too. Well, she ran off, see. Ah, don’t think she saw us, ‘cos she wasn’t coverin’ ‘erself as well as she could an’ we got a proper good look at ‘er.”
 
“Go on…”
 
“Well, y’knows how later there was that kick off at Pickles’? Ah’ reckon’s it were the same cloaked lubbers. They was the same in number too!”
 
“How many?” Gretel asked curiously.
 
“Er…” Dinks looked down at his hooves, his face scrunching up in concentration.
 
“It doesn’t matter” Gretel sighed, much to the relief of the stallion, “Who was the mare?”
 
Dinks’ face flushed, “Ah…well…”
 
“Fine.” Gretel motioned to Doc to pour Dinks another brandy, “You don’t have to tell me Dinks.”
 
“I don’t?” he replied in surprise.
 
“No!” Gretel laughed, “Of course not, I already know!”
 
“Really?”
 
“Yes. Let’s see now…” Gretel scratched her chin, “She’s blue, isn’t she… a sort of bluey…”
 
Dinks chuckled, “No! lighter, more sea like…”
 
“Green?”
 
“That’s it!”
 
“And a red mane, if memory serves correctly.”
 
Dinks shook his head, “Nope”
 
“I think it was, Dinks! Here, Doc, give him another!”
 
Gretel laughed, poking the crewpony in the chest with her glass, “Her…mane…is…red!”
 
“Gotcha there, Cap’n!” Dinks laughed, knocking back the brandy, “It was blue!”
 
Gretels blood ran cold. She looked at Doc as she spoke,
 
“And purple eyes…”
 
“Aye! You got it Cap’n!” Dinks slapped his sides, “I didn’t needs to tell ye after all!”
 
“No…” Gretel passed the piebald crewpony the rest of the brandy bottle, “Thanks, Dinks. Don’t tell anypony about this, and keep that bottle for tonight. I won’t have pissed up ponies in my rigging.”
 
“Thanks, Cap’n!” The happy stallion said tapping his forelock, “Goddess bless ye.”
 
Gretel turned from the door and leaned both her forehooves on the table. Doc stood behind her quietly. Goddess damn it…every time she came to this dung pile, every single bloody time, there was trouble. Chalky, Pickles and now…
 
She sighed, “Doc?”
 
“Captain”
 
Gretel closed her eyes, “Place Cyclone under arrest. She’s to be put in the brig until I decide what to do with her.”
 
“Aye, aye, Captain.”
 
Gretel picked up her sword and hat. Of all the ponies, of all the bloody crew she thought would…do what? Betray her? Damn it all! She slammed her hoof down on the table and snatched up another brandy bottle. The crap they sold in this port was passable, but nothing like she’d had from the mountain tribe. Now they knew how to distil a decent brandy, not like these bloody hacks. Gretel took a mouthful and swallowed the fiery spirit before ramming her hat on her head and making for door. For a moment, she paused, looking at the bed and shook her head sadly. By the Goddess, if there was some way, some chance…
 
“Be safe, Chalky…” she murmured, and swept from the room.
 
Below, Stock and Doc stood by the door to the brig, moving aside to let the Captain through. The room beyond had last been used to house Chalky’s lifelong friend, a fact that made her cringe inwardly, but it had to be done. Now, it was occupied by the very pony that had betrayed them. The irony was something that probably wasn’t lost on the bosun, who sat there like a lost soul on the edge of the bed. Gretel leaned against the bars,
 
“Bosun…Cyclone…”
 
The mint green mare stared at the floor impassively, “Cap’n.”
 
“Look at me.” The Bosun looked up to face her Captain, the shackles on her fore and hind legs clinking noisily as she moved. “Cyclone…” Gretel closed her eyes a moment, the shock of her friend, the pony she’d saved the life of all those years ago, sitting in the brig on her own ship, was overwhelming. She could feel the churning emotions bubbling away inside her: anger, sadness, loss, but worst of all…betrayal. “Why…” she asked quietly, “why did you do it?”
 
The green mare looked up, her haunted purple eyes glancing at Stock and then back to her Captain,
 
“I…I had to, Cap’n.”
 
“What did you do, Cyclone.” Gretel asked, “Tell me, and I can…”
 
“Go easy on me?” Cyclone laughed bitterly, “You think I haven’t heard that before? You think they went easy on me?”
 
“We’re not talking about that!” Gretel snapped back angrily, “You betrayed a member of this crew!”
 
“You mean that bloody unicorn?” Cyclone sneered, “He was nothing but trouble, for you, for the ship and everypony aboard!”
 
Gretel shook her head, “That was not your decision to make, Cyclone. Chalk was…”
 
“-We all know what he was!” The green mare shouted, straining the chains binding her limbs, “He was in your bed every bloody night! Everypony aboard knows!”
 
“What I do in my cabin has got nothing to do with you or anypony on this crew!” Gretel snarled, her anger rising, “Nothing at all!”
 
“Oh, but it does, doesn’t it?” Cyclone replied angrily, “Your decision to bring a dangerous magical creature aboard, to endanger all of us, was because of your damned infatuation with him. You know what happened to the Ravens Eye! How many damned times have you yourself told us, ‘no unicorns on my ship!’ and what happens? Some fancy pony with a pretty mane bats his eyes at you and you melt like snow in a furnace!” Cyclone pulled violently at her chains, her eyes bulging in fury, “Yes! I told those thugs where to find him, I sold him out, and you what? I’d do it again! Because…” She cast another glance at Stock, “because I love this ship, and…because, I…”
 
Gretel squeezed her eyes shut as the mint green mare’s words died away,
 
“Cyclone, if you felt so strongly, why didn’t you come and speak to me? You of all ponies know my door is always open.”
 
“What a load of bollocks!” Cyclone snapped, “You wouldn’t have listened, would you? No. You were too busy having your rump battered by that damned…”
 
“-Shut your damned mouth!” Gretel was nearly incandescent with rage, “You…you little bitch! I saved your life! I gave you a home, I gave you my trust! And this is how you repay me? With betrayal?”
 
Cyclone kicked out at the door, heedless of the damage she was doing to her legs. Her eyes blazed like fire, “You aren’t fit to command this ship!” she howled, “Your judgement is flawed, and it’s all because of that damned freak of nature! You should be thanking me, Gretel! Thanking me!”
 
She fell to the floor gasping for breath, her tears falling like heavy rain onto the bare wood floor of the cell. Gretel stood tall and straight, looking down dispassionately at the broken creature she had once called her friend.
 
Stock broke the silence, “Captain?” he glanced at Doc before continuing, “What are your orders?”
 
“You know what the rules aboard this ship, Master Stock.” Gretel said coldly, “Do I need to remind you?”
 
“No, Cap’n”
 
“Good” She turned away, “Make it so.”
 
Doc looked up at Stock, “Good goddesses, Stock, not Cyclone!” He called out to the Captain, “Gretel! Please!”
 
The Captain stopped and looked back at the blue stallion, her face an unreadable mask,
 
“Everypony is subject to the rules of this vessel, Doctor, even me.”
 
“What about Chalk then? What about the rules about unicorns?”
 
Gretel’s eyes bored in him, making him quail involuntarily,
 
“Master Stock, you have your orders. Sentence is to be carried out at midday.”
 
The dark brown stallion nodded, “Aye, aye Captain.”
 
Doc was in shock. Surely she couldn’t mean that really? Cyclone…after all she’d been through, her own friend would do that to her? Dear goddesses, this was wrong! He gave himself a shake and ran off up the steps to the deck and up to the quarterdeck where the Captain was leaning against the balustrade.
 
“Gretel…!”
 
“-Doc” The Captain interrupted, “My decision is not up for discussion, and as an officer aboard this ship, I expect you to back me on matters of discipline.”
 
The blue stallion shook his head in exasperation, “This isn’t discipline, Gretel! This is revenge, revenge for what happened with Chalk Dust.”
 
She rounded on him, her eyes flashing dangerously, “This has nothing to with who it was, Doc. If she’d done this to somepony else, we wouldn’t be having this discussion! What if it had been you? Or Stock? So bloody what if Chalk is a unicorn, the crew like him and he would have made a fine addition to the ship’s complement, but now…now we’ll never know will we?”
 
Doc hung his head. She was right of course, if Cyclone had betrayed any other member of the crew, the punishment would have been the same. But still…
 
“Captain, Cyclone did this for the sake of the ship. She had the best intentions of all of us at heart.”
 
“Really?” Gretel snorted, “You actually believe that do you? My Goddess, you really don’t know her do you?”
 
“I…”
 
Gretel turned away, “How could you? You’re a stallion.”
 
“What the hell’s my gender got to do with anything?” Doc snapped, “What is this? Some sort of female intuition?”
 
Gretel shook her head, “It’s called keeping my eyes and ears open, Doctor. Something I thought you of all ponies would have understood! You know as well as anypony about her and Stock.”
 
Doc held up his hooves in frustration, “That was years ago! And besides, what’s that got to do with Chalk?” 
 
“Jealousy” Gretel said quietly, “She saw the attention Chalk was receiving from the crew, and from Stock in particular. You weren’t in there with the crew that night, were you?”
 
“What, the night Chalk nearly drank himself to death?” Doc asked in surprise.
 
Gretel nodded.
 
Doc couldn’t believe what he was hearing, “You mean to say she’d sell one her own crewmates out because an old flame was talking to him? That’s…that’s…”
 
“Madness?” Gretel took out a lace hankie from her overcoat and wiped her forehead, “Perhaps, but you don’t know her the way I do, Doc.” She lifted her telescope and scanned the horizon, “You have work to do, Doc. She’ll be needing you later.”
 
Doc shook his head in dismay. He hadn’t seen Gretel like this in a long time, not since her father had died, but this…this was wrong. He trotted off back to sickbay, his anger bubbling away deep inside. In some ways, he agreed with what Cyclone had done, just not how she had done it, but this had become personal between the two mares. This was about love, and a mare feeling spiteful towards the other, but then, what the hell did he know about mares? He reached sickbay and pushed the door open, slamming it shut behind him before he began taking down bandages and linaments. Carefully, Doc arranged them on the table before placing them one by one into his pannier. Gretel was right; Cyclone would be needing these soon. It was nearly midday.
 

********************

 
“Bosun Cyclone, you are charged with gross misconduct and behaving in a manner which has compromised the integrity and safety of this ship.”
 
Stock sat behind the makeshift desk that had been put together from the crude assemblage of a couple of barrels and a plank. He pointed to an entry in the large bound book before him,
 
“By article thirty six of the ships regulations, you are hereby sentenced to forty lashes. Sentence is to be carried out immediately.” He looked up at the mint green mare before him. “Do you have anything to say before sentence is carried out?”
 
Cyclone stood proud, her purple eyes gazing into his, her expression unreadable,
 
“No, Master Stock.”
 
Stock turned to Gretel who was stood nearby,
 
“Captain?”
 
The red coated mare, wearing her formal coat, hat and sword, nodded to a yellow mare standing beside a length of rigging that had been erected below the forecastle,
 
“Master at Arms, carry on.”
 
The large yellow mare nodded to the Captain before motioning to a couple of the crew,
 
“Tie her up”
 
Cyclone’s manacles were removed and dropped heavily to the deck. Tossing her mane, she walked confidently over to the rigging and reached down to the thick overcoat she habitually wore. One by one, she began to undo the buttons, until finally, the long garment slid to the ground. Mutterings began immediately amongst the assembled crew, several gasping aloud in shock, other shifting nervously. Doc closed his eyes. He didn’t want to see this…
 
Cyclone’s useless wings sat broken and impotent at her sides, tied up with a wide red sash to stop them dragging. She’d insisted on keeping them, despite the Doctors recommendation of having them amputated, but she was a proud pegasus, one whom the crew had always respected for her bravery and loyalty to the ship, and she would endure this. She undid the sash, letting it fall off her, allowing her once beautiful wings to drape down like so much lifeless cloth. She cast a glance back at Gretel, before her eyes fixed on Stock. Slowly, she climbed into the rigging, allowing the crew to tie her hooves to the ropes.
 
Stock watched her in silence.
 
“Captain, we’re ready to begin” The Master at Arms said in her level tones.
 
Gretel nodded, “Begin”.
 
All eyes were on the pegasus mare as the first blow struck with a loud ‘crack’. She didn’t flinch.
 
“ONE!”
 
The yellow coated Master at Arms swung again,
 
“TWO!”
 
Again.
 
“THREE!”
 
This time, Cyclone’s eyelids fluttered as the lash struck across her back. Several of the crew looked away, but other leaned in, watching avidly.
 
“FOUR!”
 
Again, the last snaked out, and again. Time after time, mint green fur lifting from her back as the lash began to bite into the flesh below.
 
“TEN!”
 
Faintly, blood began to appear in stripes across her back, the red stains becoming increasingly brighter in the midday sunshine.
 
“ELEVEN!”
 
Cyclone let out a whimper of pain, tears starting to fill her eyes, but she kept her gaze fixed on Stock. She wouldn’t give in, she couldn’t, not now…not now!
 
“TWELVE!”
 
She bit back a cry. It hurt…goddesses, it hurt so much!
 
“THIRTEEN!”
 
The blows landed more and more, the sun beating down upon her head feeling like it was searing her flesh away as much as the lash was removing it. The world around her was beginning to swim and blur, the white hot agony of each stroke feeling like brands…like…those monsters…what they’d done…
 
“TWENTY!”
 
Darkness took her in its merciful embrace, drawing her away from the pain and suffering. The Master at Arms walked over to her and lifted her head,
 
“She’s passed out, Captain.”
 
Gretel nodded, “Bring her round”
 
A bucket of water was brought up and one of the crew doused Cyclones body from nose to tail, making her gasp and splutter in shock at the cold awakening. She blinked away the stinging water from her eyes and once again looked into the brown stallions eyes. If only once, if only he could see her for who she was, then maybe…maybe all this was worth the price.
 
“Stop!”
 
Everypony on deck fell silent and stared at the ships master as he rose from his makeshift desk,
 
“Captain, with your permission, I wish to invoke article eighty six of the ships regulations.”
 
Gretel stared at him in shock. Was he mad? Was he…? No…no, he wasn’t mad, he knew exactly what he was doing. She sighed inwardly; so did she.
 
“You know what that is, do you not Master Stock?” The Captain said calmly.
 
“Aye Captain.” The big stallion replied levelly, “Ships article eighty six states that a crewpony may voluntarily take the place of another undergoing punishment should they be unfit or otherwise unable to accept partial or full punishment.”
 
He didn’t even need to look at the book, did he? The bugger had planned this all along. Gretel nodded her head solemnly,
 
“Very well. Master at Arms, cut the prisoner down. Master Stock will take the remainder.”
 
“Aye, Captain.”