When the Everfree Burns

by SpiritDutch

An Intermezzo: Others Seek the East

Four Days before the Summer Sun.

Unlike the other two of the ‘Big Three’ of Earth Pony Free cities, Manehattan and Baltimare, the Aurian Republic of Filly Delphia, or Filly Delphia for short, was inland off the coast by a matter of several kilometers. The city was strikingly beautiful, a planned city gracing the foothills with its classicist and georgian monuments winged by idyllic freeholder farms. A broad causeway descended into the coastal plain across a marshy flatland, until it reached Filly Delphia's port.
The causeway was busy with carriages and wagons at all hours of the day and night. Little markets on reclaimed mounds had sprung up at irregular intervals catering to the travelers’ needs.

Lyra noticed the cello because of the gleam off the well-waxed belly. The instrument was leaning against a crate full of colorful knick-knacks in one of the market stalls, in plain view from the causeway. As soon as she saw the beautiful finish and taunt catgut strings, so out of place in the general poverty of the roadside market, Lyra knew it would be hard to pull Octavia away once. Unfortunately, she thought to distract her a second too late.

“Do my eyes deceive me?” Octavia threw back her hood and quickly trotted to the stall. As close as they were to the coast, the heavier parts of the market stall had begun to sink into the reclaimed soil, and Octavia grabbed and cradled the cello to save it from the moisture. “Oh my Celestia, how I missed this feeling.” She ran a hoof along the side. “This is better crafted than I would have thought. Is this Griffin pine?”

The crone lounging at the back of the stall swiveled her good eye to appraise the potential customer. “That’s ‘cause it’s tha reel good ones I buys! Tha stallon I gots that from says to me it’s special, but I says to you it’s cheap.”

Lyra suppressed a groan trotted to the causeway’s edge. Vinyl, who was slinking behind a ways, arrived several seconds later.
“Octavia, don't get attached to the idea of having that instrument. We don't have much money left and we have we need for buying passage.” Lyra reminded Octavia. “We've gone this far with no stopping and no distractions.”

“Yes yes.” Octavia agreed. “It’s just going to be for a moment. Just... Please give me a second.” She found the bow in the pile of knick-knacks and spent a moment feeling to it’s weight. "This doesn't belong here. It belongs with a pony who would care about it."

Lyra could see that the pony she called a friend was getting more infatuated with the idea of buying the instrument every second. "Octavia, come away from there. We need to get to Python Landing."

“I don't know. She looks good with an instrument in her hooves again.” Vinyl said amicably.

“You’re not helping.” Lyra mouthed. Here she was, building up the anticipation for her first trip overseas, and her accompaniment was determined to derail it. It's like they didn't want to fulfill Lady Velvet's contract.
She stepped up to Octavia. "Please put the cello down."

"You might be fine staying away from what you love, from all those years working for Fancy Pants, but my heart yearn and my hooves ache." Octavia murmured to the cello. "I will go mad, I swear."

"No, you won't. You're a smart pony and you don't need that cello." Lyra repeated.

“What’re it be, pretty laydies?” The crone behind the stall coughed.

“You stop talking, you’re doing it wrong.” Lyra snapped, then turned back to Octavia. “Please, we're so close to being out of this place. What will it take for you to get back on the road?"

---

They arrived at the border of Filly Delphia's port, known locally as Python’s Landing, a half-hour later. Octavia’s extra burden jutted obtusely off her back, unprotected without it’s case excepting the makeshift binding, which Lyra would not shied from admitting she had made slightly too tight. Octavia was going to have to do penance for burdening them with her selfishness.

Doing the mental math for their remaining bits, Lyra led the trio past the warehouses and merchant houses to the waterfront, to where hundreds of ships in a variety of sizes were resting in various stages of loading and offloading. They now had far too little for accommodations for them all on a passenger ship, but Lyra calculated that two births on one of the smaller and slower cogs might be in their budget. It was going to be some hard bargaining.

"Vinyl, did you ever crew a vessel during your exile?" Lyra asked.

"Nah, I allways had enough bits to go comfortably most of the time." Vinyl shook her head. "You know bits wouldn't be an issue if we slowed it down a touch. There's a Musician's Guild liason back in Filly Delphia that could hook us up with a gig. We get us some money, buy passage in a week or whatever."

"There's no time. None at all." Lyra scowled. "We need to leave Equestria before Lady Velvet's plans kick off, because there will be no leave afterwards."

"I'm sure." Vinyl twisted her nose in disapproval. “Octavia mate, do you want a hoof with that?”

Octavia shook her head. “I will manage.”

“ ‘I will manage’ is all I’ve heard from you over the last month of mountains and hills! Is everything magically better now that you've got a fat hunk of wood on your back? You feel whole now? Huh?” Vinyl grumbled spitefully. “You've been nothing but silence and angry stares since we left Foal. Why don’t you ever tell me what you really feel?”

Octavia paused for a moment to shift how the cello sat on her shoulders. “It would scare you.”

"She's Phytes daughter. You really think your wuss feelings can scare her?" Lyra said sarcastically. She saw the group was starting to fray, but she was not only fine by welcoming of it. Some frustration might push the mares to get the job done.

As they wove further into Python Landing, Lyra was reminded her of Canterlot. The streets were cobbled with smoothed out limestone, as were some of the poorer structures. Yet beside them were merchant houses and insurances offices built of marble from Foal. The wooden docks were an eclectic mix of foreign woods and mountain pines, a mix of many colors. It spoke of ingenuity patching desperation, and wealth lording over it all. Not so different from Canterlot indeed.

"All these ships are out of our price range." Lyra scanned the slips of regal trade vessels and dedicated passenger sloops. "Let's see what's away the main section of the dockland.

Having passed the EOC docks and the largest slips, Lyra was begging to see options with the independent merchants. Based on the goods they were unloading, barrels of salt, amber, stands of tropical woods, and packages of spices, most of them ranged in the southern seas, between Clawstantinople and the Sahellan cape.

“Not many going to Trottingham.” Lyra mused sourly.

“That’s because of privateers.” A luxurious accent responded.

Lyra faced the speaker and came face to face with the biggest creature on the docks, who had somehow thereto escaped her prying gaze. The hippogryph was tall, if not particularly muscular, wearing a weathered red trimmed robe.

“Wha ho!” Vinyl gasped. “A gryph! Last time I saw one of you I was nine-tenths dead and on my way to drinking that last ten percent.”

“I am not sure what to take from that.” The hippogryph arched a brow. “Good things?”

“Very good.” Vinyl wagged her tail.

“I’m very sorry!” Octavia pushed aside her lewd friend, face in a furious blush, nearly falling over with the momentum of the teetering Cello. “She comes on strong, I know. I’m sure she didn’t mean any offense!”

“Hmm Hmm!” The hippogryph laughed an exotic laugh. “Flirtation is not offensive to me or my people. I’m charmed that we could be well regarded by ponies.”

“You were saying about privateers?” Lyra queried, all business.

“Was I?” The hippogryph smiled. “I am not a sailor, but I have just come from that direction. The seas are rife with dangerous scum, and other, more distressing flags. I would not go in the direction of Griffany any time soon."

"We have no choice." Lyra grunted. "Did the ship you came in on have open berths for a reasonable price?"

"I am afraid it will not be going East. It will be drifting to Chitin after heading in the direction of Baltimare." The gryph apologized. "The captain was not eager to stay after dropping me off."

“Thanks for nothing then.” Lyra trotted past him.

“Little nothings are my pleasure.” The gryph bowed letting her by.

Octavia, blush intensifying, followed. Vinyl lagger behind again, smiling dreamily at the gryph.

After they had gone further down the dock, Vinyl began giggling to herself. "Oh man, I'm getting excited girls. I forgot how much I miss being abroad."

"And we're not going to get the chance if you dilly dally." Lyra muttered.

"I'm going to dread this trip if you act like that with every non-pony." Octavia scolded Vinyl halfheartedly.

Vinyl laughed. "When we get to Trottingham I have to show you the varied wonders of the foreign boys."

"You mares are forgetting our purpose. Let me remind you." Lyra hissed. "This is a mission of fate, not adventure. One knife is destined to meet one mare's gut. Fantasize about your next toy AFTER."

"Jerk." Vinyl pouted. "How about, if we're so pressed for time, we split up and look. I bet I could haggle for a better price without you two dark clouds hanging over me."

"That's a terrible idea." Lyra scrunched her nose. Still, on that side of the dockland alone there were almost fifty merchant vessels moored, and more coming in. Finding just the right one for there needs would be a time-consuming process. "But fine. Don't get into trouble though. And Octavia, be careful with that cello. We already payed for it, don’t want it broken now.”
She continued up the docks, towards to the trailing edges were those avoiding attention lurked.

---

After several rejections, the most unpleasant of which came from an ornery pegasus captain named Pleiades, Lyra was nearing the edge of Python’s Landing. She was now surrounded by patched together fishing dinghies and seemingly abandoned cogs curiously low in the water. The guards, a rotation of Filly Delphian urban guard, could not have been more disinterested in cracking down on smugglers, it seemed.

"Can't even find hospitality with the dregs." She said to herself.
Would she be accepted back in Canterlot when the job was done? She imagined arriving at the main gate, marble walls rising high above her, and Twilight Velvet atop them, welcoming her with a grim smile. Lyra would have a patron and a job again, which is all she really wanted. Fancy Pants or Twilight Velvet, it didn't matter.

Lyra was about to check on Vinyl and Octavia when a child’s squeaky voice, heavily accented, called out to her. “Hey mis! You looking for something?” The source was a tiny beige earth colt, a miniature grey sailor’s jacket not concealing his lack of a mark.

“I don’t do drugs.” Lyra replied curtly. “Nor am I looking to start. Try again in about a week, when I’ve lost all direction and loose myself to hedonism to keep away the creeping and inevitable realities of this cruel world.”

The colt’s nose scrunched. “No, mis! I meaning you to pickup?

Lyra tried to decipher the question. "Listen, kid, I'm looking for a boat."

"We've got a boat! We've got the stuff!" The colt jumped up and down. "Come on this way! This way!" He scampered up the jetty.

"Geez." Lyra followed him, an eye open to possible danger.

The colt stopped in front of a sloop so short Lyra hadn’t seen previously. It was a misshapen, truncated ship that looked like a normal sloop had been divided into thirds then had the first and last third fused. 'Junior', the faded name on the prow said, beside a amateur stenciling of a child profile, perhaps the little colt beside her. Lyra imagined the odd ship had been moored among the dregs out of the captain's sheer embarrassment to be seen with it. "Uh huh. That's a boat alright."

A stallion's head peeked over the odd sloop's banister. "Land's sake Pip! That's not our contact either!"

Lyra arched a brow. "Looking for somepony?"

"No mis, just teaching the colt colors. I asked him to find a blue mare, and he hasn't gotten his head around it yet." The hiding stallion said.

"I'm somewhat blue." Lyra said.

"Not blue enough. Thank you, goodbye mis." The stallion hissed.

Lyra, annoyed but a little curious, looked around and confirmed there was nopony else on the jetty, or even anywhere close besides a few drunks by the warehouses. "I'm open to dealings. What's your thing?"

"I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about." The stallion said innocently.

"Come on. What are you selling? Contraband? Are you pony smuggling? I'm going to have to guess unless you tell me." Lyra eyed the sunken and dilapidated wrecks taking up the rest of the slots on the jetty. "You're not out here for the aesthetic. "

The stallion contemplated for a while. "I'm buying, actually. Know a couple ponies looking for a way out of town?"

"I know some ponies who fit that exact description." Lyra nodded.

"Then buck who I was looking for. Go get your ponies and bring them here so I can... Assess the goods." The stallion rumbled.

"I'll be back." Lyra nodded. She scooped up the excitable little colt with a hoof and held him like she would a small dog. "I'm taking your little friend so you don't get the idea to leave without us."

"Don't handle Pip too roughly. He's a delicate boy." The stallion laughed coarsely. "Don't take too long. My original friend might come along."

---

During her brief search for her companions the odd sloop had been partially rigged, and Lyra continued to be unimpressed by the dodgy little two-mast, forty-hoof ship. It’s slender masts and boom were like nothing she had ever seen before, though since the sum of her nautical knowledge was the result of watching barges plow the Dneighper, she was willing to let personal opinion go for a moment.
"Yeah, like I said, It's dodgy."

“Holy buck that looks awesome!” Vinyl giggled like a schoolfilly. “It’s so sleek and short! What’s the specs?”

A lanky earthpony, the stallion who had been hiding before, dropped out of the rigging and jumped down to the jetty. He was a rugged charmer, his every detail uncared for and yet curiously alluring. He was beige like his younger friend, and his long mane and tail, bleached white in the sun and salt, were braided into locks.

“Fifteen tonnes laden, fifteen hoof beam, five hoof hold, accommodations for five.” He said proudly. His accent was less pronounced than his son’s, though with a dash of feisty south-sun-islander intonation. "I'm glad you like her."

Lyra quirked a brow. "A big stallion like you was hiding from a delicate filly like me? For shame sir."

"I prefer to talk my way out of compromise situations, but seeing three stunning mares looking for help, I see I've talked my way into one." The stallion flashed a smile. "I go by H. Become my friend and perhaps I'll go by something else."

“Keep talking like that and you won't go by anything at all.” Lyra said flatly. Smugglers, who the captain so obviously was, often used code names. H had do be the least imaginative one in the world. “We need passage to Trottingham. Are you going in that direction.”

“Trottingham! Yes! It's the lad's home, and I'm always looking for an excuse to go back. Come along and you'll find yourself in style and comfort.” Captain H smiled. “When I have special guests like you, I avoid all the storms, so you will have plenty of time to sun or look at the stars. Luxurious, eh? While I can well run Junior by myself, I'll throw in food any time you help out.”

"Not unreasonable." Lyra nodded. “Allow me a moment to confer with my associates.” Octavia and Vinyl leaned in.

“He doesn’t strike me at all as a horrible murder-rapist, and I know that type pretty well.” Was Vinyl’s ringing endorsement. “And I’ve seen worse sights on the seas than that fine stallion. It’s a damn sexy boat too.”

“Ship.” Lyra corrected. “Octavia, your thoughts?”

“I have nothing to contribute.” Octavia bowed her head.

"If he tries anything we can easily overpower him." Lyra said. "But that doesn't mean we can't scrutinize his motives. He seems too happy about having three extra burdons on his ship."

"Maybe he likes female company?" Vinyl fluttered her lashes.

Lyra scowled. "Give the flirting a rest already. It won't help you if he decides to sail us into a corsair harbor and sell us to slavers. I want some serious discussion here."

Octavia and Vinyl stares at her.

"Fine." Lyra grumbled. "It's up to me then." She turned back to Captain H and cleared her throat. “We don't have a lot of bits but we can pay you reasonably, and throw in some effort when we can.”

“I'd be glad to have you. Work the right way, and I'll be paying you.” H said, winking.

Lyra was unimpressed by the sleaze, but she could nearly feel the heat coming off of Vinyl’s, and to a lesser extent Octavia’s, cheeks.

“It’s a deal then. We already have everything with us.” Lyra stuck out her hoof.

“Exelenté! Then it’s time we got going!” H took Lyra’s hoof and pulled her onto Junior. “There is nothing left for me here either! Quickly now please, let’s get onboard.”

No sooner were their hooves off the dock than H and Pip untied the sheets and hoisted up the sails. At what struck Lyra as a dangerous speed, the sloop darted out of the slip and into the busy harbor.

“Make yourselves comfortable wherever girls!” H was battling against the wheel, tearing his ship across the water at vicious angles, missing dozens of opportunities to slam into unsuspecting galleons and carracks at anchor.

“This is exciting already!” Vinyl slipped across the deck, jumping out of the way of tumbling rope coils and unsecured crates. “Reminds me of this one time in Manegalore!”

Finally they escaped the majority of the traffic in blue water, and H locked in a heading due East. “Mark it Pip!”

“Three minutes sah!” P squeaked.

“Not a personal record, but damn fine all the same. Those port authority hacks only saw a blur!” H chuckled, appraising his guest’s seasickness with mild amusement. “I hope you feel better ladies! I wouldn’t want you to have to buy meals multiple times.”

Comments

[TyroidMary]

Damn, when did Lyra become such a dick?!
oh hey it's Eversnake. I see you doing sneeky plot stuff, author guy.
But damn, when did Vinyl become such a whore?

[SpiritDutch]

5257078 1 Lyra is becoming a no nonsense, no bucks given cynic. Guess it's character development.

2 Yes, it's Eversnake, but this 'Bridge' (more to follow) is a bit more relevant to plot than I let on. They're going to be anachronistic narratives mostly, explaining some things and filling in details that would have made NO sense without recent developments. The RD & Gilda plotline, for example, which Eversnake is a reminder of.

3 Being flirtatious is whorish? Vinyl always did have a bit of a murder-boner. That got her in quite a bit of trouble if you remember. Under Lyra's angry gaze, she hasn't gotten the homicidal tension out. She was a bit flirty in Canterlot, so it's not out of character (in terms of this fic at least).