The World Within the Web

by Lord Max

Chapter VII: Gifts and Goodbyes

The Bronies of the city were all gathered now, filling the sidewalks and windows of the streets as the procession passed by them. A sea of blues, whites, violets, pinks, and yellows stretched across the roads, watching and cheering as Proximo and the rest of the departing team walked to the harbor. In front of the crowds were the Honest Friends, each standing tall in their orange capes and glowing armor, carrying sharp spears in their hands and swords at their belts. Few expected trouble from a ceremony of friends, but it never hurt to be careful.

There were seventy in the main portion of the group walking by, not counting the guards in front and behind: the sixty-six that intended to go to the Dreamweave, and the four other Wardens who stood with their departing colleagues. The Wardens stood in a line of six at the head, with Lord Feylen shuffling forward at the far left with Lady Semmer at his side, Lord Jestin and Lady Wright smiling and striding forward confidently on the right, and Lady Violet and the Warden of Honesty in the center. Lady Violet was waving happily to the crowd, but the Honest Lord towered beside her flat-mouthed, his hands firmly at his sides, looking more and more uncomfortable by the cheering crowd every moment.

Proximo Hart was in the line immediately behind them, walking beside the other Generous Friends in the envoy, who in turn stood in front of the fifty-four members of the honor guard that the Honest Friends had assembled. The mid-summer sun was blazing in the sky above as they passed through the city streets to reach the docks. The ships that would take them to the Painted Sea were crewed and settled there: a handsome escort, if what Lady Madelin said was true, of the fastest ships available to the Brony Expeditionary Force. Considering they had so little notice to draft the vessels for duty, Proximo wondered just how fine they would be, but perhaps the Loyal Lady wasn’t merely bragging.

As the parade marched around the corner and began the straight walk to the harbor, Proximo looked to the men and women in the company that would be beside him for however long it took to sort out the mess in the Dreamweave. He knew nearly all of the five other Generous Friends, from proud Theosyrius, to gloomy Prim Enproper, to Caleb, the particularly large follower that some less courteous friends preferred to call ‘The White Whale’. Proximo thought Caleb was likely to burst with excitement when he had given him the orders to join them at the Dreamweave.

The three Kind Friends he knew as well, though not as closely, and he had met the Laughing Friend Jayson Joyfelt once or twice in the past. Hart confessed that he had never heard of the Magic Friend who was to accompany them, Caymen Diallep, but he was recommended by Lord Feylen and seemed polite enough when Proximo met him.

The Honest Friends he knew far less of. There were a full fifty-five of them, counting the Warden sulking in the front, and the fact that around a dozen or two likely had the word ‘apple’ in their names made telling them apart even more of a chore. He knew a few: Hans had worked closely with the Generous Friends in the past, as had soft-spoken Dustario, and one of the guards was a warrior-woman he faintly knew, brown-haired, fierce-eyed, and huge.

He noticed that the nervous knight from Reddit, Sir Coin Counter, had also found his way into the group somehow—no doubt an idea of Jestin’s passed along to the Warden of Magic. The man seemed anxious, but considering his experience it wasn’t altogether surprising, even if the Warden of Honesty likely didn’t approve. The one detail that Proximo couldn’t help but note, however, was that at least a quarter of the Honest Friends that were joining them had the eye emblazoned on their chests in gold, marking them all as members of the Warden’s most trusted and fanatic inner circle.

There was a certain feeling of unease, seeing that.

As they grew closer to the harbor, Proximo could see that perhaps Lady Madelin hadn’t been exaggerating for once: the tall masts and colorful hulls of dozens of grand ships dominated the waterfront, any one of which would have been a prize to sail upon. The Brony Collective had been buying more and more of them recently, from trading boats to painted war-vessels and even a new flagship that reportedly could match some of the Authority’s finest in terms of power and speed. He could see it once the party drew closer: there was no mistaking the monstrous craft, with blue sails and rows upon rows of guns, that was Lady Wright’s newest vessel—the Alicorn Ascendent. The cost must have been something staggering, Proximo knew, as such a heavy class of ship was rarely allowed outside the Authority lightly.

Most of the other ships that filled the docks were more modest, including the one that Proximo guessed to be the Wonderbolt II, which would carry part of the group to the Painted Sea. It was a sharp, sleek thing, perfect for a quick voyage across the Blogosphere and beyond, and had been decorated in the style of the Land of Faces: lines of blue and white formed the snarling likeness of a killer whale, and every empty space was filled with a face. The Wonderbolt II stood in the middle of the harbor, directly in front of the Wardens’ path, and had a hastily made stage raised in front of it.

There would be five other ships escorting them, from what Proximo knew, all of which were both fast and well-armed. One or two were returning from an expedition led by the Loyal Friends in the Blurr, where a recent war had just concluded against the Oppressed—cultic warriors who worshiped no god, but instead dedicated themselves to loathing anything they believed would enslave them. In practical terms, this generally meant anyone who offended their more violent members, including the Brony Collective most recently.

It was a sanctioned fire feud, all perfectly legal under Authority law, but from the reports Proximo had heard made him wonder just how closely Lady Wright’s forces had been in adhering to those regulations. The Loyal Friends had served the Bronies well—and their enemies ill—during the First Rise, and were technically only authorized to fight in self-defense, but tales were still told of midnight raids, fire attacks and martyr legions destroying enemy forces that faced them.

As they entered the dockyard, the marching Bronies began to file into the large open space in front of the Wonderbolt II, with each group of six moving either to the left or right to form a rectangle before the raised platform. The line in front, containing the Wardens, proceeded past the rest and walked up to the top of the stage. Lord Mars walked up first, looking somewhat shriveled in his voluminous violet robes, going to the center of the stage, with the rest lining up behind him as the crowd cheered. Proximo took his place behind Lady Violet as the ceremony began.

The roar from the thousands of gathered Bronies was almost deafening when the Warden of Magic lifted his hands to address them. From where Proximo stood, he could see the sickness in Lord Mars: the heavy bags under his hollow eyes, the limp in his walk, the way the skin stretched over his stick-thin bones and body. Ordinarily, he was hunched over, tiny and frail. But when he stood in front of his friends, and the hundreds and thousands called out to him, the Lord of the Six-Pointed Star seemed twelve feet tall. The crowd continued its cries, but with a wave of his hand they immediately fell silent. Every eye was upon the Lord Mars as he began to speak.

“My friends!” Lord Mars said, calling out in a voice that carried through the whole assembly. “Today we gather to see a brave few on their way, so they might sail to the Painted Sea and prove the innocence of our brothers in the Dreamweave. It is with a heavy heart that I see them leave, but I know that they—and only they—can deliver those followers of the Six from this injustice.”

He stepped aside, and allowed Lady Violet and the Warden of Honesty to approach the front. The voices from the crowd soared when they walked forward, and grew even louder after they bowed to them and to the Warden of Magic. Lord Mars silenced them again with a motion of his hand, and stood before the lord and lady. “To you, my friends who go to stranger shores, I offer these as a parting gift.” It was traditional that the giving of gifts would precede the Wardens’ departure, and Lord Mars did not disappoint. From hidden pockets within his violet sleeves, he pulled two medallions, both gold, with a purple gemstone in the shape of a six-pointed star in the middle of each. There was some etching on the back of them, but Proximo could not make them out from where he stood.

“A small token,” Lord Mars said, “forged with the amethysts of my homeland. Wear them proudly, friends of friends, and may it remind you that even when alone, you walk with the strength of Six, now and always.” He gave a deep bow to his departing companions. “Go in peace, and may you have the wisdom of the Magic Friend in ten thousand trials and triumphs. Six and One!” he called to the crowd.

“Six and One!”  they replied, in a cheer that could have been heard all the way from the Citadel, from Central, from the Dreamweave and the Painted Sea and beyond. “Six! Six! SIX!”

With that, the valediction was over, though it would still take some time for the crowd to disperse. The Wardens of Loyalty, Generosity, and Honesty, with Proximo behind them, stepped onto the deck of the Wonderbolt II, where Lady Wright quickly began barking orders. “Alright then, now that all that’s done, let’s get this tub afloat, shall we?” she shouted to the assembled crew. “Where’s Captain Skytide? I’ve got a couple things to say ‘fore all of you set out.”

One of the Loyal Friends stepped forward, wearing a smart blue naval uniform with a rainbow cloth tied around his waist. He had black hair, a hook nose, and calloused hands, with the air of dignity suiting an officer. “My lady,” he said calmly, “it’s an honor to see you once again, and to be given such an important task.”

“Aw, stuff the pleasantries, Captain, before you get me too friendly!” Lady Wright said with a beaming smile. “Anyhow, I don’t think I need to tell ya’ how to handle this kind of mission—precious cargo, and all that. Very precious. You’ll have the Cerulean, the Griffon, the Sixshaded, the Loyal, and the Cloudsdale with you, but I don’t want any risks, you hear? No chancing a storm, no shortcuts, nothing. Whatever precautions you have, see that they’re doubled. Clear?”

Captain Skytide bowed. “Yes, my lady. This crew will not disappoint you.”

“I know yah won’t!” She turned to the other Wardens and Proximo. “The journey from here to the Devien Isles ain’t too far, two or three weeks at the most. Still, can’t be too careful, so you three are getting code-names so any messages sent out won’t show exactly which ship you’re on. If you just look in he— hey! You call that a knot?” She began to yell at one of the nearby sailors securing the lines. “Six save us, kid, this isn’t some cargo job you can half-ass!” She turned to one of the Loyal Friends looking confused next to her. “Cindy, give ‘em the thing with the code-names—I’ve got to tell this guy a word or two about knots. Gimme a second.”

The Warden of Loyalty shot off, leaving her attendant to hand Proximo a small folder after a moment to recover. “Ah, your names are inside this. It’s fine to use your real names on the ship,” she said, while trying to see what Lady Wright was doing, “just, um, just make sure that any official messages are using these ones.” There was the sound of shouts and a crashing noise coming from another part of the ship. “I’m sorry, excuse me for a moment,” she said before running in the direction of the Warden.

Proximo opened the folder and pulled out a piece of typed paper. “Ah, it seems that Lady Violet will be ‘Umbrelle’ for the remainder of our voyage, and I will be… let’s see, ‘Elusive’.”

“How appropriate,” Lady Violet said. “Mine is very subtle, I daresay. And what name will you be getting, Honesty?” she said, turning to the other Warden. The Honest Lord was still wearing his heavy plate armor, but if it caused him any discomfort in the hot weather, he didn’t show it. His gold cape billowed slightly in the wind, and on his belt was a sword and an assortment of knives. The medal that Lord Mars had given him was around his neck, and looked small on his massive chest.

Proximo found the other entry on the sheet, and tried his best to suppress a chortle. “Crabapple.”

Lady Violet couldn’t help but laugh. The Warden of Honesty did not react. “We will see the captain,” he said stiffly before lumbering off.

The two of them watched the giant wander away. “I think the Lord Warden needs to spend more time with the Laughing Friends,” Proximo said.

“Hush, Proximo,” Lady Violet said in an only semi-serious scold. She was looking radiant that day, dressed in a light, white summer dress to match the beautiful weather and a violet necklace that brought out the deep purple of her hair. Over it was the medallion given to her by the Warden of Magic, which hung down close to her heart. “We’d best go to the captain as well. I’m sure there are a great many matters that need our attention.”

Proximo followed behind her as they maneuvered through the mass of blue Bronies securing lines and shouting orders. Lady Violet walked past a man carrying a barrel, and turned her head to Proximo.  “We’ll all be working together for the next few weeks, and I don’t want my friends to fight one another,” she said. “Try to get along with him, won’t you?”

There were several clever comments that Proximo could have made, but it wasn’t the time for them. “I’ll do my best, my lady.” He had told Lord Jestin the same thing the day before, and he had meant it. If they can see Honesty as a friend, then so can I, Proximo thought, I was being unreasonable earlier. The Six themselves would do the same, were they in his place.

Now that the Wardens were safely aboard, the other Bronies joining them on the voyage began to step onto the ship. Most of them were members of the honor guard, who were dispersed evenly throughout all six of the vessels bound for the Dreamweave. Sir Coin Counter was among them, and Proximo could see him trying desperately to avoid being knocked over by the Loyal Friends carting around supplies. The former knight seemed harmless enough, and courteous when Hart last spoke with him, but at the same time he wondered whether the man could be trusted completely. Coin had been a Knight Regulator for some time before joining the Bronies, and had spent most of his life training in Central with the Authority. If push came to shove, which side would he be on?

Proximo made a mental note to question Coin about that later, when he saw another familiar face in an orange uniform. “Dustario!” Proximo called out. “How good to see you, my friend.”

The Honest Friend turned, and smiled when he heard the assistant call for him. “Six and One, Proximo! A pleasure to see you as well.” Dustario was a native to the Devien Isles, just like Proximo and many of the Generous Friends, but had chosen a more martial path when he joined the Bronies. He was taller than Proximo, lean and clean-shaven, with a orange-and-gold outfit made of much richer material than his other Honest compatriots. Even if he wasn’t a Generous Friend, Dustario was never one to turn down the finer things in life. He gave a bow to Proximo and the Warden. “It seems we’ll be sharing another voyage together — just like old times!”

Proximo laughed. “Hopefully not exactly like old times. Remember Am-Azon?”

“Better than you do, I imagine,” he said with a smirk. “You still owe me one for that, friend. Hopefully you’ll be able to keep yourself out of trouble this time.”

“If the Dreamweave is anything like I remember it, the trouble will probably find me.”

“A place Proximo Hart has been before, eh? I’ll let you know if I find any ruffian children that look like you.”

Proximo gave a look of mock horror. “Dear friend, if there is anyone in the world that looks like me, then I shall be ruined forever. I don’t think I can take that kind of competition.”

The two of them exchanged a goodbye, and Proximo continued along with Lady Violet to meet with the captain. He was in the stately cabin in the rear of the ship, with the Warden of Honesty already looming over him. An oak table sat in the center, adorned with candlesticks and a charting map spread out to plot the ship’s course. An assortment of chests and bookshelves lined the walls, along with a few beds.

“My lady,” Captain Skytide said as he approached. He took Lady Violet’s hand in his and bowed his head to it. “It is an honor — not to mention a delight— to serve you.”

“You’re too kind, Captain,” she replied. “I’m certain there is no man in the fandom more equipped for the task. I see you’ve already met my honest friend,” she said with a motion to the Warden, “may I introduce my assistant, Proximo Hart.”

Proximo bowed. “Well met, Captain.”

He returned the gesture. “The feeling is mutual. I was just discussing with the Warden of Honesty as to your living quarters for the journey. If it pleases my lady, I hoped that you both would accept my personal cabin for the voyage. I’ll be comfortable enough elsewhere, I assure you.”

“Unnecessary,” the Warden of Honesty said. “This one does not require space.”

The Captain shook his head. “I’m afraid I must insist, my lord. It would hardly be proper for my superiors to rest in inferior rooms.”

The eye of the Warden of Honesty looked down at him, and Skytide paled slightly. “Hrm,” the Warden grunted.

Lady Violet stepped between them. “Are you quite certain, Captain? I would hate to force you from such a fine cabin.”

“I’m certain, my lady. I’ll have your luggage brought here immediately, if you would like.” Lady Violet gave a consenting smile, and Skytide motioned to the Loyal Friends by the door to fetch the baggage. They returned with the whole of Lady Violet and Proximo’s things, six bags and a case for her and five cases for Proximo. It had been hard to choose which clothes he intended to take out of his wardrobe, and almost as difficult to fit all of it into only five suitcases, but it was a vital task nonetheless.

After all of them left, however, it was clear that nothing had been brought for the Warden of Honesty. Captain Skytide didn’t let it pass unnoticed. “I apologize, my lord, it seems that the crew has forgotten your things. I’ll see to them.”

“Did not forget. Have everything.” The Warden gestured to a small burlap sack on floor next to him. Proximo had assumed that some trash had fallen onto the ground when he saw it. There was also a massive war hammer propped against the wall directly behind the Warden, made of plain steel and was very heavy from the looks of it.

The Captain, Lady Violet, and Proximo all gave the paltry assortment a look-over with varying degrees of concern. Skytide ventured to ask, “Is that… all? My lord?”

“Yes.”

“You’re certain, my friend?” Lady Violet asked, appearing rather ill at the thought of it.

“Yes.”

“My lord,” Proximo said in the most diplomatic way he could manage, “I’m sure that you know it’s by no means certain exactly how long our stay at the Dreamweave will be. It could take some time to put everything back into place. There will be certain… essentials that one always needs to have for such ventures.”

“Have them,” he replied. He gestured to the sack, then to the hammer, then to his armor and the collection of weapons at his belt.

“Well yes, but what about everything else you might need?”

The Warden of Honesty gave the assistant a vaguely confused look and then repeated the same motion to the sack, armor and weapons more slowly.

He doesn’t even have a change of clothes, Proximo thought. He was about ready to leave the room at that point, but figures clad in pink, yellow, and blue entered into the cabin before he could make a beeline out. Lady Semmer came through first, ducking her tall frame to avoid hitting her head, followed closely behind by both Lord Jestin and Lady Wright, both of whom seemed to be talking eagerly about something.

“Hello everyone!” Lady Semmer said, her rich voice filling the air. She had flowers woven into her hair, beautiful lilies of white and orange, and seemed as cheerful as ever. “I’ve come for the goodbyes. And look! I even found Madelin as well, while she was yelling at some poor man. He was happy to be rescued, I’m sure.”

“At least he knows how to tie a damn rope down now,” Wright chimed in.

“Now he’ll tie real knots!” Jestin said with a smile. “Instead of not-knots. But now that he can knot knots, he’ll have to re-knot all the not-knots. When it comes to nautical knots, not-knots do not last the knots like knots, do they not?”

“Yeah sure, whatever,” Lady Wright replied, not paying attention. Looking around the room, the Warden of Loyalty gave a whistle. “Pretty nice, Captain. If I’d known the Wonderbolt had such fine living space, I might’ve kept it for myself.”

The Captain smiled. “Are the quarters on the Alicorn not to your liking, my lady?”

“Oh, it’s plenty nice and all. Bit big, not as snug as this, sure, but all nice enough. I remember one ship I served on—passages were so small that two people couldn’t walk down them at once unless they wanted to become much better friends. Which, o’ course, they did sometimes, without much else to do when you’re out at sea, eh? But yeah, the Alicorn’s fierce-looking, definitely, but I still haven’t quite broken ‘er in just yet, you see?” She grinned, and started to spin around a spherical star-globe on the desk, letting the constellations go by.

“Anyhow,” she said with a wave of her hand, as the globe spun around and around on its own, “Besides the ta-tas for now, I figured I would make sure everything was ready to set off. Mars should be up any second for his own fond farewells for the lot of you, but one last check before then won’t hurt. Oh!” she said suddenly, “I also got a little something for you three.”

Reaching to her belt, Lady Wright pulled off three holstered knives and placed them on the table. The hilts were bone white, curved and expertly carved, and when Lady Violet hesitantly drew the blade it shone white as milk. There were small purple gemstones on the ends of two of them, and an orange one on the end of the third. The Warden of Honesty picked up the one with the orange gem and tested the sharpness, touching the edge with his finger. He rubbed the spot where the knife cut, and said, “High quality. Valuable material. Very sharp.”

“Yeah, found a crate full of that metal when I was in the Blurr, captured from some Oppressed camp. There were fifty, no sixty of ‘em down there, hauling supplies around when we jumped them. Some big glitch almost stuck me with two of those Channic retractables, but we found that all the same. Who knows where that bunch of loonies got it, but I thought it’d make a neat little number for you three. Had them forged a little while ago, and I got a couple Generous Friends t’work the hilts last night.” She shrugged. “Hey, I know it ain’t required, but if Mars is going around giving gifts, why not me?”

“This is fine work,” Violet said as she looked over the gift. Though Lady Violet was not keen on weapons, she appreciated art when it was in front of her, and one could tell right away that the handiwork of the Generous Friends was behind such a beautiful craft. “The hilt… is this teywood?”

A smile from the Warden gave the answer. “I thought you might like that. I picked it out myself—the Generous Friends told me it was practically new, shipped in from Kursedos a little while back. I don’t suspect you’ll need 'em when you’re out there talkin’ with the Mod squad, but keep ‘em around anyways. Who knows, maybe they’ll be good for opening letters. Just don’t cut yourself, eh Proxi?” She gave a sharp nudge of her elbow to Proximo’s chest.

“Actually,” Lord Jestin said, “I’ve got a little something for you as well.” He reached into one of the deep pockets hidden inside his robe, and pulled out two boxes. He handed them over to the departing Wardens, and then turned to Proximo. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten about you, friend!” He pulled out one last thing: a pocket-watch, bronze-cast with a handsome chain around it. On its front was the insignia of a winged tiger, growling as it took flight. When Proximo opened it, though, it was clear that it was broken.

“Sorry I couldn’t get it to work, but it can do other things, too! Remember when I told you how the last time I visited the Dreamweave, I could only take one thing with me?” He tapped the lid of the watch. “This was it. I thought it might bring you good luck — it certainly helped me!”

        It was a heartfelt gift, and Proximo made his appreciation known. “Thank you, Lord Jestin. I know it will bring good fortune to our mission.”

“It just might, too.” He winked. “And say, ask around for someone named ‘Cabrio Temley’ while you’re there, would you? He’s an old friend of mine, and I’m sure he’d love to help you out. Just show him that watch, and he’ll know that you’re a friend to him too!”

The show of generosity seemed to have Lady Semmer aghast. “Shame on me! I’m so sorry, but I did not prepare anything for you three. But here,” she said, moving her hands to her head. She plucked out three of the lilies in her hair and began handing one to each of them. ‘It is not much, but you’ll keep it with you, yes? And I’ll have something nicer when you come back.”

“Oh nonsense,” Lady Violet said, “they’re absolutely divine. I want nothing else.” She placed her flower in her own hair, a little white island in a sea of thick purple.

When Lady Semmer handed one to the Warden of Honesty, he did not seem sure what to do. “It is… healthy,” he finally managed to say. Wright laughed at that, and Lady Semmer gave a giggle as well. “Very nice. We will keep it.” The flower looked very small in the Warden’s hand, and he made no attempt to place it in his nonexistent hair. Instead he looked for the nearest escape. “Will look over ship. See it is suitable.” He left in a hurry, arms down at his side and his eye looking straight ahead.

Lady Wright seemed to find the situation very amusing. “Ha! Seems like he was getting a bit hot under the collar. You’re lucky you didn’t make his head explode, Lil.” She stretched her head to look out the door. “Yep, gone like a flash. Well hopefully he finds his way back soon, ‘cause I’ve got a couple things for him to hear.”

Proximo stepped forward. “I can bring him back if you would like, my lady.” It would give him a chance to speak with the Warden personally as well, which was not an easy thing considering how little he made himself seen. “It would be no trouble at all.”

She shrugged. “Sure, why not? Just tell him to head back here once he’s done with his excuse. Don’t keep me waiting!”

The assistant bowed his head and strolled out, taking in the ship as he left the cabin room. The hustle and bustle of the Loyal Friends was speeding up, with a rapid rush to secure cargo and prepare the sails. Most of the Honest Friends assigned to the Wonderbolt II were on board now, with several Proximo recognized and more that he did not. Dustario stood with several other orange-clad followers, laughing and joking as he was always inclined to, while Coin Counter was far away and on his own, red hair tossing around in the wind.

Dustario’s group was a fairly motley pack, but two of them caught Proximo’s eye, both with golden eyes on their mantles: a huge, smiling, dark-skinned man with a beard tied in a braid that reached down to his belt and a small tattoo of an apple on his right temple, and another man more squat, with his arms crossed. He was as bald as the Warden of Honesty and nearly as ugly, but the striking thing was his hands: each had grotesque scars in the shape of a six-pointed star carved into them. There was likely a fairly gruesome story behind that, but it wasn’t the time to introduce or inquire.

Proximo found the Warden of Honesty standing in front of the railing at the stern of the ship, staring out at the harbor. He had the flower that Lady Semmer gave him in one hand, twisting it around between his finger and thumb, but seemed to be paying it as little mind as the Loyal Friends around him. Nor did he give much attention to Proximo when the assistant approached his side, leaning his hands on the railing.

“My lord?” Proximo asked.

A single golden eye shifted slightly to the Warden’s side, but other than that there was little indication that he even knew the other was there. He gave no greeting in reply.

Proximo cleared his throat. “It would seem that we’ll be working together for the next few weeks.”

The Warden remained silent for a moment. “Yes,” he finally said.

“Considering your friendship to Lady Violet, and my own, I simply felt that it would be best for us to put aside any misgivings, for her sake.” He looked up to the Warden. “We both count ourselves as her close companions, I’m sure, and if we’re to succeed in the Dreamweave then we should work without any enmity between us. I know that we don’t necessarily see eye-to-eye on everything, but we both mean the best for the fandom, do we not?”

The Honest Lord did not deign to reply. It was somewhat difficult to tell if he was carefully considering what had been told to him, or just ignoring the little man’s talk. Come to think of it, was ‘eye-to-eye’ really the best choice of words? Proximo worried. It probably didn’t matter. “What I mean to say,” he continued, “is that I apologize for any unamiable behavior on my part. It was wrong of me to speak out of turn.” He gave one of his winning smiles to try and ease the situation.

The Warden looked back down at Proximo. “Does not require apology.”

“Oh, well that’s kind of you to say, my lord.”

“Hrm.”

Well, Proximo thought, this is going about as well as expected. Truthfully, he was not anticipating much in the way of apologies from the Warden of Honesty, but a conciliatory word could go a long way regardless. Perhaps it would still be enough to honor Lady Violet’s request.

There were a few moments of silence between the two of them, both standing on the deck and looking out at the bustling blue harbor. It was utterly choked with ships, Proximo could not help but notice, many of which were undoubtedly returning from the Blurr Expedition. A few were non-Brony traders or diplomatic ships, but a vast majority carried the devices of the Six Friends upon their sails, or rainbow flags flying from their masts. And there’ll be six fewer of them after today. “I hope that we can succeed in the Dreamweave,” Proximo said at last, “with so much at stake, I mean.”

“We will,” the Warden replied gruffly. “Have strength of Six. None can withstand them.”

“Well, it may take more than just that.”

“Nothing else. Only power comes from one Magic. They do not understand. Comprehend. Imagine. Will be destroyed.”

The Warden spoke the words without emotion or care, and for a moment Proximo wondered whether he had heard him correctly. “My lord,” Proximo said with concern, “this is a peaceful mission. No one will ‘be destroyed’. You’re mistaken.”

“They will. They are weak. All light flows through the fandom. Those who do not join are hollow. Meat, not men. Already dead. That is truth.”

Hart frowned. “I would not repeat that while we’re in the Dreamweave, my lord. It will hardly endear us to our counterparts there.”

“Do not care about outsiders. Irrelevant. If they wanted truth, would already have joined the divine Collective.”

“My lord of Honesty,” said Proximo, trying to keep the anger out of his voice, “that is not a proper view of things. Others are free to have their differences, and we must respect their choi— “

“Why?” the Warden asked.

“Pardon?”

The Warden of Honesty turned himself to face his diminutive counterpart. “Why must we respect outsiders?” he repeated, as though the concept was inconceivable to him.

Proximo looked at him agape. “Because they’re people. It is right.”

The Warden frowned. “Definition of ‘right’ misguided. Unfounded. The Six are only good, only right is service. Friendship reflects divinity. Protecting friends is right. Outsiders divorced from this. Oppose our friends, contradict our purpose. Inherently wrong. Antithesis to our principle. Conflict is predetermined.”

“That isn’t true.”

“We do not lie,” the Warden replied angrily. “Concepts, by definition, opposed by ideas that contradict them. Fandom, and anti-fandom. Six and anti-Six. By choosing truth outside of ours, they make themselves incorrect. Ideologically incompatible. Collective and dissolute too different from one another. Cooperation can only last until moment of inevitable disagreement. Only way to protect friends is to destroy opposing ideas. Why pretend reconciliation possible? Conflict predetermined. Always was. Feigned niceties untruthful. Dishonest. Lies.”

Proximo blinked in confusion. It might have been the single longest string of words that he had ever heard the Warden say, and not a syllable of it made sense. “Forgive me, my lord, but that is not the talk of a diplomatic person.”

“Not ‘diplomatic.’ Not ‘person.’ We are the instrument of Six. Our purpose, our strength. None can withstand them. They will surrender to Collective or be destroyed. That one’s insistence contrary,” he said with a gesture towards Proximo, “nothing more than delusion. Lie to self and others. And her. There is no peace.”

“And that’s it, then?” Proximo asked, raising his voice. “You just say there’s no peace and don’t even try for it? My lord, what exactly would you prefer? That we just kill everyone in the Dreamweave if they try to stop us from freeing our friends?”

The Warden looked down at Proximo as though he did not understand the question. “Yes,” he replied simply.

We’re sending this man to negotiate for our friends' lives, Proximo thought in disbelief. “Well,” he said as calmly as he could, “I imagine that’s a great comfort to you.” He pushed away from the railing, eager to leave. “The other Wardens are waiting for their friend below. I suspect they’ll be waiting for some time.”

With that, the assistant turned around and left, trying to keep the anger out of his expression. That man is insane, he realized. He had always found the Warden of Honesty unpleasant, but now it was simply beyond his understanding why Lady Violet or anyone else bothered to call him ‘friend’. He would doom the mission, if given the chance. I can’t give him that chance, or we’ll all hang.

He tried his best to put on a happy face when he re-entered the cabin to find the other Wardens, save Mars, looking over a map. The captain was apparently giving one last description of their path to the Dreamweave.

“...We will need to stop briefly before entering the Dreamweave, however. My thoughts were to dock at the nearest available harbor on Indelio—probably Shine, if the winds allow it. After that, we can move into Dreamweave Harbor and disembark. If Providence is on our side, we should reach them within two weeks.”

“Wonderful,” Lady Violet replied. “The sooner we arrive, the sooner we can bring our friends home.” She looked up from the map and saw that her assistant had returned. “Ah, Proximo. Did you find Honesty?”

“I did, my lady. He should be here in a moment.”

And lo and behold, the Warden of Honesty did indeed arrive, pushing his way through the comparatively tiny doorway. With him was Lord Mars, trailing behind in his absurdly large robe. The rest of the room bowed respectfully when he entered. “My lord,” Lady Violet said, perhaps more formally than needed.

Mars gave a small smile when he saw them. “Sorry if I kept you waiting. There were still a few things left to say to the other captains. I trust the course has been made clear to you?”

Lady Wright swaggered forward. “Skytide and I got ‘em covered, Mars. Don’t you worry about it.”

Mars nodded, and turned to Lady Violet. “Then I believe it’s time for our last goodbye. For now, at least.” He hesitated, then said, “If you don’t mind, could we have a quick word, Violet?”

“Welp,” Wright said, “you heard the man, everyone back up and give them some space. That means you, ’Crabapple’, either get over here or I won’t hug you goodbye.” She proceeded to push the others towards the other end of the room and starting briefing the Warden of Honesty on the journey ahead, though Proximo was still close enough to hear the two others talk.

Lord Mars was looking at the floor, trying to work up the words to say. “Violet…”

“I’m sorry, Mars.” Violet interrupted. “I shouldn’t have… you know more about it than I ever could.” She put her hand on his. “It wasn’t my place, I know— “

“It was your place,” Mars replied quietly. His voice was very thin, and rattled like a reed in the wind. “It was. Blame my pride, my arrogance, but don’t blame yourself for being concerned. You have a right to.” The lord’s eyes darted away. “You were being a better friend than I was, Violet. I spent half my life bedridden, you know: people coming and going, but never staying long, and always deciding what was or wasn’t safe for me. After so long, I’ve forgotten that sometimes that worrying is justified.” He looked back at her. “But do you understand why I do it?”

When she didn’t answer, he continued with a question. “Do you remember the first time we met?”

She nodded. “Yes. It was during the war, and I had gone to see who all the strange people who had fled from the Chan were. Sixchan-in-the-Sea... it was winter then. I remember you were standing there, bundled in that frayed violet robe you found, talking to a crowd. They were all sitting down, just listening.”

Mars smiled wistfully. “You had a different name then. I had known Lilly for a long time, but I still hadn’t met Jestin, and Madelin and Honesty were only names to me, strangers fighting far away. Baysmouth had fallen to the Authority, the Exodus was still underway, the wardenship didn’t exist, and we were all so far apart. You came to us at a poor time, my lady.”

“The right time, it seems to me.” She smiled as well. “You were talking about the Six, I remember because that’s what convinced me to stay and speak with you. That time… things were never the same after that, were they?”

He shook his head. “Nor should they have been. Do you remember what we spoke of?”

“It was the same thing from your lecture, the words… ‘We call them Six Friends,’ you said, ‘but there is another layer to it entirely. They are six, that is clear, but would we still adore them as much if they were separate? Would we flock to only the Loyal Friend, or the Kind, or the Magic?’ ”

“ ‘We may identify with one more than the other,’ ” Mars finished, “ ‘but that one is not why we’re here. Because they are Six and One,’ I said. It is that bond between them, and us all, that we love and hope to serve as best we can. We love the Friends, but it is their friendship that we truly follow.” He locked eyes with her. “Parts form a whole, and each of us is given a way to contribute to that Magic in their own individual way. You already know my way, and I know yours. That is why it is you going to the Dreamweave, and not me or any other. We all have our gifts: you, me… and the Warden of Honesty as well. Understand that, use that, and we can succeed.”

Lady Violet bowed. “I understand. I still have my reservations, but… I trust you on this. I’m sorry it came between us.”

“I’m sorry as well.” He bowed to her in kind, and looked over her shoulder, to see Captain Skytide approaching. “Captain, is there news for us?”

“Yes, my lord. The ships are ready to depart, whenever my passengers are.”

“Very well, Captain.” Mars turned to the rest of the room, breaking off Wright’s loud conversation with the others about globes. “I believe it’s time to go, my friends. I wouldn’t wish to keep you waiting any longer.”

“Well alrighty, Mars,” Madelin Wright said sadly. She turned to the departing Wardens. “I’ve already said my piece, so let me just tell you all good luck! Don’t hurt yourselves, alright? ‘Specially you, Honesty,” she said with a punch to his arm. “Aw, I can’t resist. C’mere, you!” She grasped the Honest Lord in the tightest hug she could, though she couldn’t manage to get her arms all the way around him. He looked about ready to explode with discomfort when she finally let go.

The last goodbyes went between all of them, and Lady Wright, Lord Jestin, and Lady Semmer took their leave. Captain Skytide stepped out as well, and called out to the ship, “Mister Hands! Prepare to weigh anchor and set sail on my word!”

A cheer raised across the decks, but the Warden of Magic did not join in with it. He turned to Honesty, and smiled wanly. “I don’t suppose you wanted a hug from me as well?”

The expression of the giant suggested not. “Not required. My lord.” He paused to collect his thoughts, seeming to strain in saying his goodbye. “We… will do what we can.”

“I know you will. Good luck. To all of you,” he said with his eyes on Violet.