Path of the Unforgiven

by HeatseekerX51

CH 15: Deep Secrets, and The Lost

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The secret of the Crimson Cup did not surrender its secrets easily. It demanded a high price, one that nearly cost my life. But won them I did, through storm, and through darkness, and at the bottom of the cold sea I found the Crimson Cup’s secret. All I had to do was wrestle it from the coils of the beast himself. The demon of the deep.

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SEVERAL YEARS BEFORE HONALEE

Thunder broke the sky as the tempest raged. Dark waves rumbled and rolled under the heavy rain, lightning the only source of illumination. The Red Talon groaned as it crested another frothy wave, sails bulging with wind to the brink of ripping apart. The bow came crashing back down into the surf with a plank-rattling dive, sending salty spray washing over the deck.

At the helm, Captain Gozar Skorn dug his claws into the wood of the wheel, his crown of feathers soaking wet but still forced to flap-about in the gale. Though narrowed, his kept his eyes focused on course, a pair of steely glints piercing the darkness. Every ounce of strength he could bring to bear was clenched on the helm, keeping it steady, keeping it under his control.

The storm had intercepted them from the north, the fastest bloody system Skorn had ever seen, like it was hunting for them. They had tried to outrun it by turning hard to the south, but curses flew as the clouds and thunder caught-up, bringing with it all the fury of the untamed spirits of the natural world.

“Captain!” Salty Veins cried out, pulling himself along the upper deck’s rail, the rain pelting his face so viciously he could hardly keep his eyes open. “The storm’ll tear the masts off the ship! She can’t take much more ‘ah this!”

But Skorn showed no hint of fear. If anything, the furrowed brow and hidden sneer held nothing but contempt for nature’s efforts to humble him.

“The sea is my mother!” Said the pirate. “She’ll never take me back into her murky womb!”

“Easy to say for a griffin!” Wrapping a leg around the rail, Salty shielded his face from the splash of a wave that struck the port side of the ship. And though he thrashed his head to shake off the water, it still ran in rivulets across his forehead. “But might ch’yer mother have such a care for the rest of us?”

Skorn grinned. “Not likely, mate! She hates me!”

A sorrowful howl in the wind tried to turn the sails to starboard, forcing the ship to lurch and threaten to capsize. The crew, clinging to whatever they could let out a united cry of excitement that rose and fell with the ship on the wave.

Æclypse however, known to his fellows as Sable Star, stood out from the others. Bracing himself on deck among the writhing mass of ponies, his horn was aglow in magic, aimed at the main mast. The combination of Skorn’s mastery of the helm and the force of his magic able to prevent the mast from snapping at the base.

The gust spent its strength and the Red Talon righted itself, Skorn’s mad laughter of spite echoing out across the sea.

We had been in storms before, but never one that seemed so possessed of vengeance. It was as if the elements conspired to send us to the bottom. Our Pegasai were tethered to the deck to make sure they didn’t get swept away in the wind. Grey Skies and Ruffles wore a rope around their breast and kept themselves low to the boards to prevent an updraft from getting under their wings. I had heard of other ships simply sending their flyers below deck to wait things out. But Skorn wanted them topside just in case something high in the rigging needed to be tended too.

I liked the storm though. Something about the charge in the air, experiencing nature’s power all around me in a scope beyond my comprehension. As it was, I stood on deck where my comrades crouched and clung, felt the exertions of the wind and rain work their primordial craft. To say nothing of the ethereal vista set atop the living ocean, a sight only the bravest of ponies ever had the grace to lay their eyes upon.

It was as I looked out over the furious waves that I saw in the flash of lightning another ship off a distance to our portside. It looked to be having a rougher go of it than we were, their sails tattered and torn, perhaps a less capable master at the wheel.

“Captain!” I called out, lighting my horn as a beacon. “Another ship in the storm!”

He looked to where my magic was pointing, and he must have seen it as well. Spinning the helm in the direction of the likewise waylaid vessel.

“When the fox hears the rabbit scream, he comes a-runnin!” Skorn laughed. “But not to help!”

I could not tell what manner of ship was imperiled, though it was not dissimilar to our own. Perhaps it was another pirate ship, or a merchant. Curious however, what that the ship seemed to be trying to stay in the same spot, despite the severity of the tempest. Whatever its cause for delay, very shortly we would be upon it.

“Is that mad buzzard planning to raid a ship in this weather!?” Ruffles cried incredulously; hooves clamped over his head as he looked up at me with disbelief. “We’ve been at sea for too long!”

“With any luck… the storm will sink it before we can get to them.” At least, that was my hope for their sake.

As we neared the other ship, I thought it might have been a reflection of the lightning, or a lamp on the deck, but I began to see lights dancing on the water. They were difficult to discern, three orbs of differing colors floating on the ship’s portside like buoys. Staring at them, I realized that they did not bounce and shift according to the whim of the sea. Rather they moved of their own will, going to and fro but keeping to midship.

The lapping of the water and howling of the wind gave way to a new sound, carried on the gale like the scent of flowers in a summer breeze. I thought it might had been a strand of wind passing through a hollow, but no, it was a voice. Soft as moonlight and sweet as a mare’s kiss it sang, an enchanting melody like I’d never heard before.

I was drawn to the rail of the ship, legs moving without my conscious command. The lights became obscured in the dark and storm, indeed, I could do nothing but focus on them until I could lean no farther safely on the rail.

“Do you ‘ear that?” Sticking his shivering neck up from the deck, Grey Skies peeped out from bedraggled and rain-soaked locks to match my gaze. “Iss like the singing of the Alicorns!”

He wasn’t too far off. Luna’s singing was very gentle, haunting at times. I had never heard Celestia sing, but I imagine she possessed a powerful set of lungs. This melody however, there was something different about it that I couldn’t wrap my mind around.

Quite suddenly, the other ship pitched back and forth violently, and did so in brazen opposition to the roiling of the sea.

“Captain!” I cried, making my way towards the helm. “Don’t get too close! There’s something going on over there!”

“BRAAK! Just a little pop-in to make sure everything’s tip-top.” Skorn spoke the words with a mischievous smile. There was no way he could have missed what I saw. I wondered if Ruffles’ assessment had been accurate, that too much salt and sun had taken a disturbing toll on our leader.

Another crack of thunder framed the maniacal image of Captain Skorn against the baleful skies, face poised forward like a stalking predator.

The strange ship had turned as we approached, the water-lights on the far-side and out of my view. I couldn’t explain why I felt distressed at not being able to see the lights or hear the music, but I became tense, searching for any sign of the phenomena.

“I don’t like this Grey, something perilous is a-hoof.”

We were not but two ship-lengths away when the hidden danger revealed itself. The backside of the other ship was thrust at an angle quite unnaturally, revealing the flank from before.

My eyes could scarce believe the sight before me, a bevy of dark tentacles reached up from the depths were assailing not just the ship, but the fey lights as well! Whatever monstrosity the writhing limbs belonged to was hidden below the surface, but it must have been as massive as the ship if not greater, to wield such tremendous lashes.

I looked back to the captain, and saw Salty Veins desperately trying to spin the helm in the opposite direction. Skorn apparently having come to his senses, bent his whole body into steering us away from the beast. The Red Talon groaned in protest, its body twisting between the three masters of wind, sea, and captain.

As I prepared to use my magic to aid in bringing her under control, I was forced to hesitate. I cannot say for certain what I saw in the sky, but in the split-second that a bolt of lightning snaked across the ceiling of clouds, I could have sworn I saw a bird. Dark wings against a river of grey mist, presented in my direct line of sight. Putting aside how incredible the idea was that a bird would be able to navigate this hellish squall, the image burned into my mind’s eye was that of a raven leering back down.

And just as soon as it had flashed before my eyes it was gone, replaced by a wind that overcame the Red Talon’s effort to evade the sea monster and forced us back into harm’s way.

We plunged forward, barreling into the heart of jeopardy. Tentacles as tall as ship masts continued to assail the other vessel, the mysterious lights dashing through the living forest.

“HOLD ON FOR ALL YOU’RE WORTH!” Captain Skorn screeched, his avian vocals high enough to pierce the gale.

We were passing the port-side of the other ship and I became able to see their deck. Only one pony seemed to be brave or reckless enough to submit himself to the storm, an earth pony stallion with a light grey fur similar to my own, and a blond mane whipping in the wind. Rather than shirk in terror from the monster’s presence, he dashed along the railing yelling out to the swirling lights below in a panic. Had I more time to contemplate the matter, I might have made better sense of his alarm.

All it took was one blow. One of the slick and sinewy arms rose from the water, higher than my neck would allow me to follow. It curled upwards just as we were going to pass, the shouts of my crewmates rising in equal measures shock and horror.

It came down across the bow of the Red Talon with a thunderous crash, the entire ship buckling under the weight of the blow. Timbers crunched and snapped, the prow dipped and disappeared under the dark surface only to come back up with a heaving amount of salt water.

Such was the force of the buoyancy’s reaction, that I was thrown upwards and divorced from the safety of the deck. Like a feather I was kidnapped by the wind, my comparatively tiny frame swept-up by the tempest.

“SABLLLLE!” Ruffles leapt from his spot, reaching out for me with outstretched hooves. His wings defied the onslaught of rain and gust, his light pegasai body cutting through the air like a spear. I felt myself losing momentum and gravity reassert itself, Ruffles’ eyes meeting mine as he timed his launch perfectly to intercept me at the start of my fall.

And he might have caught me too had the rope tethering him to the deck not stopped him. Our hooves came within but a few inches before the line snapped taut and a gasp of breath escaped his lips. We were just close enough that I could see the heartache in his eyes as I fell away.

The water was cold as I splashed into the sea, the waves hurling and heaving me with irresistible might. Swimming was not a foreign skill to me, but there was no strength in my body capable of overcoming the sheer fury of the ocean. Every time I managed to break the surface for a precious breath I was sucked back down.

I managed to fill my lungs one last time before a wave crashed down atop me and I was plunged below into a world of muffled sounds and dark shapes. No matter how savage a sea-scape the surface might be, only a few paces below it all comes to an eerie calm. It was in that ethereal tranquility that I once again heard the bewitching singing from before.

The thrashing of my limbs halted, and through the murk there was one of the fey lights, only this time its source not so obscured. There was before me, a mare of exquisite beauty and graceful features. Her body however was something else entirely. Gleaming scales of pastel colors and delicate fins gave shape to a pale pink swan-like neck under a slender face. A mane of sparkling lavender and gold ran from her crown down the back.

She spotted me with no small show of surprise, her pale green eyes locked on mine for a palpitation of the heart as we hung in suspension

I had forgotten about the beast. One of its limbs swung through the water and latched around her lower body. Impulsively I tried to reach out for her as Ruffles had to me. But unlike my friend bound to the deck, I clasped my hoof to her fin and together, we were dragged down into the inky blackness.

But before I continue, there is another part of my story you should know of.

---

YEARS EARLIER

“You’re awake…”

Indeed, much to my own surprise, I was awake. The last thing I had remembered before an interminable slumber, was collapsing into the limbs of… her.

The Pegasus mare stared down at me curiously, her snowy face half hidden behind a bang of soft brown hair. I was laid out upon a modest bed of what felt like a combination of straw and feathers. My vision was partially obscured by a ray of sunlight shining through a window, revealing that I was kept within a humble rustic home.

“I was not expecting you to arise so swiftly.” She continued, sounding a little perplexed. “Your wound was quite severe.”

“My… wound?” I lurched forward in bed, remembering suddenly the chaotic thrash of battle, talons and wings, spears and shields. I had been stuck by some device, I remembered seeing my lifeblood on my hoof.

“Ley ye back now.” She bade me, wrapping a wing around me to coax me back down. “My medicine is grand, but it cannot be that grand.”

“Thank you, I uh… I don’t quite know what to say.” Each passing moment of consciousness brought with it greater clarity, and I remembered the circumstances of what led me to her care. I thought for a moment about telling her of my encounter with the raven, and the further direction of the owl, but even the recitation of these in my own mind seemed mad.

“How did you come by such injury?” Offering a bowl of water, my healer eased it towards my mouth whereupon I took a careful sip. “It is not the work of any animal I am familiar with in these woods.”

“Griffins.” I answered. “I was in battle the day before last. I think.”

“Griffins?” Her face scrunched in perplexity, blowing a huff of air to clear her vision of a bang. “I’ve not heard of their kind in these parts for generations. And what battle could you mean?”

I pressed a hoof to the bandage on my ribs, feeling for the wound, but felt nothing more unpleasant than a tender bruise.

“A minor lord of Griffinstone had set out to expand his dominion into Trottingham shores. His hunger overreached his grip and found an alliance of local lords ready to send him back across the waters to prune his plumage. I myself fought under the banner of Lord Durham.”

She set another bowl on a wooden table-top and began preparing a meal of ground oats and apples. “Lord Durham’s land is more than a day’s journey from here. Surely you did not walk the whole way?’

“Wander would be more appropriate, but yes, it was my own legs that bore me to your care.” Taking anther sip from the water bowl, I noted a peculiar sweetness in the taste, as if a bit of berry had been mashed and infused. Again, I thought of the mysterious means by which I had been conveyed to her. “Provenience, it seems.”

“Still, I wouldn’t think you’d manage to take ten steps with the hole in ‘yer side I patched up.” I watched her use her hoof to grind the oats, and as the sunlight soaked through her mane, I found that I had been quite negligent in my observations. With the immediate concern of my welfare passed, I noticed the fairness of the mare in whose home I must have been resting.

Her features were delicate, fur white and clear, sparkling eyes, around my own age by my guess. The subtle grace of muscle tone just under the skin betrayed a lifestyle of simple labor, apparently on her own judging by my surroundings. Atop a swan-like neck, her head was framed by more hair than seemed proportional, but lovely all the same.

She must have realized I was staring, for I was startled to see her curious eyes locked on me, waiting for some response. My mouth hung open for a moment, unable to force my throat to manifest words.

“Yes, I... It must have looked worse than it truly was.” I gulped. “Or, you do not give your healingcraft proper due.”

A soft ‘hmf’ was all she returned, her own gaze lingering upon mine a moment before she returned to her task.

“I think we won.” Settling back down, I tried to recall what later elements of the battle I could. “The griffins had begun to fall back towards the coast, Lord Durham had called for my retinue to harry them and keep them occupied while he rallied the others.”

“And then?” she asked.

“And then…” Try as I might, the next series of events would not come to me. All that rose to the fore was the shrieking of my foes and the thunder of our hooves. “And then I… cannot say.”

“Well, whatever the case may be, your battle is over, and your body needs rest.” She nipped a berry-laden twig from the boughs of the low ceiling and knocked a few of them into the bowl.

“And you’ve made a thorough inspection of my body?” I asked. Now, I had no ulterior meaning to my words, but evidently, she found something about my question arresting. Surprised, she ceased mashing the fruit into the meal and gawked at me as if I had accused her of some mortifying act. Her chest swelled, ears pinned backwards, and if not for the lightness of her face, I might not have detected the small blush that dispersed across her cheeks.

“For, any further injury.” I amended, sensing her discomfort.

Whatever thought was in the forefront of her mind, she swallowed. “Um, yes, I did. Had to make sure I wasn’t healing one wound, only to be undone by another one I hadn’t the thought to check for.” She hesitated. “I hope you don’t think I’ve taken too much liberty with you.”

“No, no, not at all.” I grunted, repositioning myself in the bed. “I’m grateful you did. No telling what sort of misfortune I might have been subjected to while insensible. I trust you found nothing more of interest?”

With a sharp inhalation she refocused on the meal. “Nothing more concerning than a few scrapes and bruises that you should be able to endure. You’re a young stallion, you seem to be in fine health otherwise.”

I took another long sip of water, this time using my magic. It caused my head a minor ache, which was not itself remarkable considering what my body had been through.

“My name is Æclypse, and I am in your debt, healer.”

At this introduction was the first hint of a smile I saw on her, it was tight but appreciative of the gesture. “What else was I to do with you? On the brink of collapse and covered in your own blood? By whatever means brought you to me, count yourself fortunate.”

“Yes…” I muttered, images of her in the moonlight coming back to me. “I remember now, I was at the lakeside, and you emerged from the water…”

“Not how I usually make new acquaintances.” There was a delectable scent coming from the bowl of fruited hot oatmeal as she carried it over. A simple dish like I had enjoyed as a foal. It triggered memories of my mother at breakfast, an equally warm smile on her face.

Setting the bowl on the bedside table, she continued. “There grows a weed at the bottom of the lake, useful for a few things. Dried and salted it makes for a tasty snack, mixed with a few other ingredients, it can salve a grave wound.”

“And the goldenrod?” I asked, recalling the few flowers I had tossed into the water.

“Aye.” She admitted, sitting on the edge of the bed. “Mixed with the lakeweed, I used it on you.”

Taking the food in my magic, I brought it to my mouth to scoop in a good portion, enough to satiate the desire to taste what smelled so good.

“So…” Said I, licking my lips. “Do you have a name, or shall I continue to address you by your vocation?”

“I have a name!” Finally, I broke her reticence. With a spontaneous laugh, I was able to see her face light up, and with her smile, it was the first time she made my heart flutter. “My name is Bjørg, and healing is not my profession, I just adopted the skill through practice.”

I smiled back to her, looking out over the rim of the meal-bowl. She then fixed me with a curious scrutiny.

“Now that we have been properly introduced, tell me how it was that you found your way to me? I live half-a-day’s walk from the nearest village, and I doubt any of them would be inclined to point you in my direction.”

Her last words struck me, for how could any society exclude such a mare from their midst? But she expected an honest answer from me, a reasonable request. I set the bowl aside next to the water dish on the table, and rubbing my cheek, tried to articulate the very queer series of events.

“Perhaps this is a delusion wrought from the injury or exhaustion, so, this may take you as a rather outlandish explanation.”

Bjørg’s face tensed, perhaps she feared I was being obscure to protect some unwelcome secret. “Well, outlandish or not, I would have it.”

“Would you believe…” I began to say, incredulous that I was about to confess something so fantastical. But I believe in the gods, and I believe that they are want to intercede in our lives when the mood or scheme motivates them.

“Would you believe that a raven told me to find you?”

---

FAR DOWN UNDER THE SURFACE…

There is not much I recall about our plunge into the darkness, the mermare and I. But as we were compelled downwards, our gazes locked in stark fear, she thrust her mouth to mine. It was not a kiss of affection, nor the kind born of a last desperate act. As her breath passed into my lungs, I felt a warm sensation filter through me, as if I had just escaped from a constrictive clutch.

After a moment, she broke away and when I looked into her face again, found a hopeful resolution. This was the final thing I saw before we both were plunged into utter blackness.

It has occurred to me on many an occasion, that I have a disturbingly frequent habit of awaking to find myself in dire or otherwise unpleasant circumstances. Sometimes I think sheer luck is what saw me through these moments, other times, I imagine it amused the gods to watch and see how I would rescue myself from the clutches of fate. Either way, it all plays out rather the same on my end.

“Wake up!” I heard somepony whisper. “You have to wake up!”

There was a prodding in my side, and as I flailed out, I was confused at the feeling of being mired. My eyes opened and surrounding me were three feminine beings that were both startling and beautiful to behold. What’s more, as evidenced by the trail of bubbles arising from my lips, I realized that I was totally immersed in water.

I began to thrash out, knowing instinctively that I held no breath in my lungs, and the immediate fear of drowning caused me to spasm wildly. Panicking, I gasped for air and tried to find the nearest life-saving source, only for the trio of mares to seize me by every limb and strain to hold me in place.

“He’s so strong!”

“Keep him still!”

“Give him another one!”

In my thrashing, the owners of the voices were all a blur of faces and limbs. But it all came to a halt when I felt a pair of lips thrust themselves to mine once more, and again, the warm sensation blossomed in my breast, my terror subsiding. Coming to better senses, I was able to focus on the set of pale green eyes affixed to mine, the very same that had escorted me down into the depths.

She broke away from me, hers and the other faces scrunched in concern.

“Better?” She asked. On my left side was a slightly smaller model of aquatic maiden, sea-green and smooth of body, a mane that appeared more fin-like of orange with blue spots along the outer edge, sparkling magenta irises.

The one on the right seemed taller, or at least, longer in length. Faded blue from the breast up with darker scales towards the tail, her mane reminded one of the celestial plumes to be found among coral reefs and jagged. Beyond an eager smile were her sunrise-yellow eyes.

“Hello?” The question brought me back to the present, I stared open-mouth at the middle one with whom I was now somewhat familiar.

“Maybe he can’t hear us?” The shorter one asked.

“Who are you?” I sputtered before clutching both hooves to my mouth. “How can I talk?!”

“He speaks!” The blue one cried, throwing her fins up in celebration. “I was getting worried maybe his eardrums had burst.”

The green one smirked. “That would have been a shame.”

“He is protected.” Said the lavender one, and she was quite serious. Now I was the subject of intense scrutiny among the three. The fact that I was not being threatened, quite the opposite, was slowly dawning on me, and began to lower my defenses.

“It’s okay.” The middle one again attempted to reassure. “We’re not going to harm you. But we do need your help.”

With cautious expedition I opened my mouth to take a breath and found that my body accepted the water without protest, and indeed I felt my lungs refreshed. Accompanying the soothing of my nerves, was the perception of my surroundings. The rectangular chamber which we occupied was comparable to the size of my father’s thronehall but made of sea-coarse stone and covered in places by blotches of coral and ocean lichen.

Most astonishing however, we were surrounded by treasure of all types. From wall to wall were piles of coin, gem-encrusted items of various shape and size, the floor itself was littered with loose currency and precious stones. Our source of illumination came from a series of white-glowing orbs lining the walls in several places.

Lavender, as I labeled her for the time being, reached out with a fin and laid it on my hoof. “I’ve given you the ability to breathe underwater.”

“Is that what that kiss was?” I asked.

The three blushed, with the two beside visibly suppressing a chuckle.

“Yes.” Lavender answered with bit of humor. “That is how the spell is performed. Though it’s effects are only temporary.”

“Then I am in your debt for every breath I take, and I am at your service. Now, I think it fair that you tell me why the endowment is at all necessary. For what do you require my help? And by what names would my new friends of contract be known?”

“I am Muirgen.” Proclaimed the blue one, dashing around me merrily.

The green one sauntered up to my chest. “I am Asrai.” She said with invitation.

“And I am Sinann” My primary host introduced at last, using her tail to ward off the advance of her kindred. “And we three are the last of the Mermares.”

“I have heard legends of your kind.” Twisting about, my mind struggled to find some connective logic to my state. “There are truly no more of you?”

“In ages past.” Muirgen began. “Our kind were plentiful, and the seas were filled with our songs. For many years under the light of the Great Steeds, we prospered and filled the world with beauty. And we used our gifts to spread peace and harmony among all of the creator’s beings.”

Asrai then picked-up the tale. “However, we were so renown for the beauty of our song and faces, that we became jealously coveted. Conversely, we had become the objects of perfect hatred for those who had… come before. The beasts of darkness and those they had converted to their wickedness.”

“And so began the culling of our kind.” Now Sinann spoke with a sadness. “Between those who desired us and those that despised us, the Mermares faded from the seas. Among those were some who went to the land, and found new lives among the ponies, much of the blood of our kind now runs in their veins. Those who fell into darkness were either never seen again, or… or corrupted their gifts of beauty and song to sow dissonance and conflict.”

“You are a devastated tribe.” I said, commiserate with their tale. Despite the mutual strangeness, I found our sagas to be of a familiar story.

“In this way, we are alike, we four.” Placing a hoof on my chest, I tried as well as could be to affix myself upright. “My name is Æclypse Unforgiven, a lost son of the kingdom of Thule. I too am dispossessed of family and homeland.”

Sinann nodded and gave me a tight smile, laying her fin on my shoulder. “Then in our dispossession, let us find common cause, if not comradeship, Son of Thule.”

“Gladly I would have it.” Gesturing to each in turn, I received an affirmation of our bond. “Now, what do you know of our predicament? And how best do we save ourselves?”

Asrai gripped my left foreleg with both fins. “We are the captives of a terrible beast. Plundered for his treasure horde. He is as we have said, one of those who in the old days were corrupted by the masters of darkness.”

“A giant fiend!” An excited Muirgen threw out her limbs and began acting out her description. “Who stalks the abyss, with eyes to pierce the black, and arms to reach up and snatch whatever precious thing his greed hungers for.”

“And what do you call this abhorrent thing?” I asked.

“No one possess the creature’s true name, even our legends say it is as old as the sea.” Muirgen paused, crouching like a cat to emphasize moment. “To us it has always been known as the Demon of the Deep.”

“This demon must be massive. Those arms were as tall as a mast, they could have torn a ship apart.” I pondered the thought, remembering the sight of the writhing tentacles rising like mountain ash trees from the ocean.

“If he likes his precious things, that is plain reason enough to want you in his collection. But that does not reveal the cause of your recklessness.”

Asrai seemed offended at my notion. “Recklessness? How do you mean?”

It was not my intent to show my new allies’ discourtesy, frankness was however a necessary component of resolving our dilemma. So I began to explain with sensitivity.

“If you three are the last known of your breed, then you must be well familiar with evading such tactics to apprehend you. How then, I wonder, have you now been caught if not by some perchance of luck on his part, or complacency on yours.”

“The fault is with me.” Sinann lowered her gaze, a shame weighing on her conscious. “It is for my own foolishness that we are now in the creature’s possession. We were left vulnerable, because I let love blind me to all peril.”

Her confession struck me, for I was not one to rebuke another for acting upon the desires of the heart. Even if my fate had been sealed by choosing honor before love, I often envied those who had the freedom to be more selfish. Perhaps If I had put my inner longings before fealty to gods and kingdom…

“Tell me.” I urged, lifting her chin that she might see compassion for her cause. And she did gaze up to me with mournful eyes. “Tell me of your love.”

Sinann’s brow creased, relieved to find a sympathetic shoulder. She moved and faced away from the rest of us, fins clasped to her body.

“I had not intended to find myself so given to the affection of another, but I suppose things of this nature are the governance of forces beyond our control.”

“I know this well.” I said, Asrai and Muirgen regarding me with soberness.

“Then you can understand how unexpected and altering the experience can be. My sisters and I were sheltering in a cove during a storm, and as fate would see it done, so was a stranded sailor. A wave having swept him off deck, he was tossed until by happenstance, saved himself on the tiny patch of island. I found him clinging to life as weakly as he clung to the rocks and giving him the breath of the sea as I have you, took him to safety under the waves.

The Mermare race being so rare, I admit I was a bit naïve to some of the…customs of land pony societies. And what you know of as a kiss was not so intimate a gesture to me. At first. Though the storm would pass, he was still without means of rescue, other than us. Such was the requirement of our journey that more than a few times was administered the breath. And each time, I noticed a change in the way he received it, and a change in myself too.

A few days passed before we were able to bring him close to one of your cities, but by then we both knew that parting would not be so simple a thing. He promised to meet me again, if I would agree in kind, and I not having a full grasp of what I was feeling, agreed.

The time that passed between our reunion pained me in ways that I could not comprehend. It was as if a whole half of me had been torn away did my heart ache so. And at the appointed place and time, when I did see him again, I…”

Sinann’s words faltered, choking on the memory of the emotion

“When again I saw him and was able to feel his body to mine, I was put back together, my heart more than restored and overflowing! Together we spent a day and come the time for us to part once more, he declared to me that if not for the divergence of our natures, he would leave the land behind and join me in the sea forever.

But there was a way, I told him. There is an ancient lore about an enchantment capable of transforming a land pony into one of our kind. It’s not permanent, and relies on the wearing of a talisman, but it would allow us to share our lives in the freedom of the sea. He begged me to create such an item, and I agreed.”

Sinann turned to me and fondled a necklace about her neck, long strands of sparkling pearl-like thread from which hung a spotted Junonia shell with smaller turret snail shells dangling beside. And as she rubbed the centerpiece it glowed with a pale orange light.

“He said that he must return home to make arrangements with family and business, but when next we met, he would be ready to live a new life.

And that was our undoing.”

Her eyes were filled with sadness. “It must be the true omen of the creators that our love should be denied, for it was our final rendezvous that was set upon by the terrible storm and the design of the beast. We tried to use our song to pacify it long enough for my lover’s ship to escape, but he kept pleading for us to leap aboard to avoid the monster.”

“And thusly I enter this tale.” Said I. “We saw your lover’s ship in the storm and were making our way over when I myself was stolen away by the tempest.”

“Perhaps…” Sinann spoke as if she were skeptical of my claim. “Or else there was another will at work.”

Images of the foreboding bird among the storm clouds in the moment before fate diverged me from my crewmates flashed across my memory.

“The Raven…” The word was little more than a mutter of curiosity, an accident, but at the sound of it the Mermares became alert and glanced among each other.

“Now the order of things becomes clear.” Muirgen said. “Calamity revealed as providence.”

“An intertwining of destiny.” Asrai smiled. “Two plots of a larger design.”

“This meeting is not an accident.” Sinann’s anticipation grew. “We were meant to find one another.”

Though I wanted to voice my denial of their claims to divine intervention, I found that my words would not come, and a tension gripped my heart. “You speak as if you would know such a thing, yet how could you? By what divination do you make your prophecy? And do not speak in riddles.” I demanded , though there was no threat to my words.

Muirgen approached, her friendly demeanor given way to an air of gravity. “It is you who must speak plainly with us. You have seen a sign from the gods, have you not?”

I hesitated to answer, but my lips could only form one word. “Yes.”

Asrai took my forelegs in her fins and fixed me face to face. “And being truthful, this was not the first time, was it? You have received the notice of the gods before.”

There was no willpower in my body to lie or deflect my answer, but a compulsion, an urge to voice what was in my heart. “I believe I have, though part of me rebukes the other for seeing omens where there may be only delusions and happenstance.”.

“It is your mind that casts such doubt.” Sinann was flanked by her sisters as Asrai broke from me to stand as a trio. “Your heart knows the truth, and to admit such a thing is to tremble in the presence of an awesome power.”

A tremendous rumbling signaled the arrival of another, much more tangible awesome power.

“The beast!” The ceiling of the chamber shifted, small bits of debris coming loose along the seam of the wall. I moved to protect the mares, placing myself in a position just above them to guard against wherever the monster would appear.

Behind Æclypse’s back, Sinann looked to her sisters, face full of trepidation. She glanced down at her necklace, thinking on all the care and hope she had crafted into it, but her mind was set, it must be done.

My focus was on the ceiling when I felt something slip around my neck.

“He won’t want you.” I turned, and saw Sinann near to crying, that was when I realized she had loped her enchanted necklace around me. “The beast will discard you, please-” She gripped my right foreleg tightly. “Swim east and find help from the seaponies, give them our names, and they will help you rescue us.”

“You risk much to put your trust in me” I said. “Your faith may be in vain.”

“My faith is in the gods, and they have sent you.” Sinann then placed her fin over the centerpiece shell of the necklace, pressing it into my chest. “Think of your beloved one, keep them in your heart and the spell will respond to you.”

“But ther-”

Before I could explain a very tragic reality, the lid of the jewelry box slid open, and in shot a scarlet tentacle that seized me around and snatched me away. The arm continued to coil itself around me, and despite the prying of my magic, its strength was far superior.

All about me was darkness at this depth, and I could feel the pressure crushing down on me where the grip of the monster’s arm was not. I was spun ‘round like a toy until at last I was brought under the inspection of a set of great glowing eyes. Yellow as gold they gleamed in the abyss, a broad rectangular iris in the middle of each and narrowed towards me.

“A bit of detritus…” Came a voice like the roar of a wave. “Polluting my precious collection…” The beast finished the thought with the sound of a sucking gulp, a flush of water rushing past me as it took a breath. “Perhaps you might make for a nice… little… snack!”

The arm retracted, and the specter of the eyes became larger as I was drawn closer to them. Neither my strength of magic or body could save me, and even if they did, I could not hope to outpace the aquatic titan. There was but one tactic that sprung to mind as I was wound ever tighter in his grip.

My horn became a beacon of brilliant white light in the darkness, quite suddenly as if a star were born that instant. The beast let out a horrible bellow of surprise and rage, his iris expanding in shocked response. I felt the arm around me loosen, just enough to squirm out and break free.

“RAAAAHHHHH!!!” Again, the beast cried out in anger, and in the periphery of my light, I could see his arms lashing out in furious retaliation. Not to waste a second of my precarious advantage, I began swimming in what I thought was the opposite direction, difficult as it was to gauge where moving in any direction might lead me even with my light.

I looked back in time to see the burning gold of its eyes come around and fix on me, hardening with a newfound hatred.

“CURSE THE LIGHT!” He thundered. “SNUFF IT OUT!”

I knew it would no little more than provide distraction, but I launched a missile of white magic in his direction, aimed straight betwixt his eyes. Arms arose to try and deflect it, but my little barb was too nimble. As it struck him and exploded against his form, for a flash of a moment I saw a face clenched in agony and a maw as large as the Red Talon, filled with triangular teeth.

With every fiber of muscle I could command, I swam. A quick snort produced a small collection of bubbles, and seeing which way they rose, orientated myself towards the surface.

“Swim east…” I heard Sinann’s voice echo. But I could not help anypony if the beast recaptured me. I must swim where I can.

“Find the Seaponies…” But I had my own quest to carry out, the Crimson Treasure was my destiny.

“The gods have sent you…” Have the gods not asked enough of me already?! Cannot another take up their burden of champion? Why must my life be the pawn for their game?

With a proper course I ascended through the water, my light an island in the dark sea. The salt stung, and my chest heaved, but I knew I would not escape Squirk a second time, so I pushed upwards.

Once more I was visited by Sinann’s words. “The effects are only temporary.”

Oh no. As I tried to take another magical breath, the water chocked in my throat, my lungs rejecting it. The spell was wearing off. Perhaps I had exhausted its potency in my efforts, or the duration so limited by time, the answer was not my immediate concern. Smothered in the brine, I began to thrash, and in doing so, once more felt the necklace.

“Think of your beloved one…”

I could not help but picture her in my mind’s eyes, her simple grace, soft fur.

“Keep them in your heart…”

The pride in my heart as I watched him cast his first spell, the joy of his laughter.

If my last thoughts truly were of them, then I might have been satisfied in my end. I gazed open mouthed and stark eyed as the tiny few bubbles slipped past my lips and raced onwards above, my light fading.

But as I resigned to sink into the abyss, I felt a new light shine, this one a luminous blue, and it radiated from my chest.

“…and the spell will respond.”

Everything around me then became engulfed in a nova of the enchantment’s power, and I felt an all-embracive power move through me. For a few moments I was no longer flesh and bone, but pure magic.

Terrified, I began to scream.

---

YEARS EARLIER

“A raven?” She repeated, Bjørg clearly taken aback by my question. Seated on the bed beside me, I imagine she was wondering if my mind had not suffered the greater injury. “Well… I have heard of ponies possessing the animal tongue, but-”

“That was my first thought, but it has never occurred before.” I searched her face for any suggestion of her thoughts. “You… you must think me mad, and I cannot say that you are in the wrong.”

She brushed aside a bang that had draped over her face. “And… this raven told you to find me?”

“Not… by name, persay.”

“Then how?” Now Bjørg’s face tensed.

“I was told to find… the Witch of the Westmareland.”

She rose from the bed so suddenly I flinched, wings flapping rapidly as a tell of her distress. Immediately my instinct was to reach out to her, but that would have been too familiar of me.

“If the term causes you some dread, I apologize-”

“It’s not your fault.” She was quick to reassure with a raised wing, though she continued to stare downwards in anxious contemplation. “It is something I’ve been called by the villagers. It is not a term of endearment.”

As native magic users, we in Thule had little use for the term witch, much less to wield it as a slight. “What do they mean by it?”

“I’m not in a mood to discuss it.” Bjørg swept towards the door, hooking a wicker basket with a hoof as she went. “I’ll return shortly. I would ask that you not become too curious with my things in my absence.”

“You may consider your home and belongings well-guarded.”

---

It took some time to overcome her reticence, but after a day or two when she no longer protested my leaving the bed, (I had developed a terrible bed sore) I was able to ply her with small favors. Whether it be tasks around the dwelling, fetching water, foraging nearby, or chopping firewood, I endeavored to make myself as useful as was tolerable.

I also noticed that no visitors came by to see her. Neither kith nor kin, merchant or curious onlooker. She took no deliveries and answered no letters. How a creature like her had become doomed to live as a hermit mystified me.

On a sunny midweek day, I was bringing another pile of quartered logs into the den when she gave a terse sigh and stood patiently for me to set them down.

“You are working entirely too hard for a recovering stallion.” She scolded lightly. “You may undo all the work I’ve done for no better reason than carrying a few bloody sticks around.”

“My magic has regained much of its strength.” I told her, controlling the logs carefully as I set them down against the wall so as not to scatter them. “As have I.”

Her expression morphed from sardonic to amused. “So I’ve noticed, you’ve saved me hours of work. I suppose I owe your constitution my thanks.”

“I’m well bred.” I teased, accenting the remark with a flex of my pectorals. Bjørg turned away from me, but I could still see the smile bending her lips and betrayed the real reason she declined to face me.

“Well…” She began, but there was a new soberness to her voice. “If you are strong enough for all the work you’ve done. I suppose you’re healthy enough to leave my care.”

My mouth opened, though I had no words in the moment.

Bjørg fluttered over to her basket of gathered fruits and began sorting them into smaller bowls. “Consider me repaid for my healing efforts. You may… go… as it suits you. Surely there are others who await your return, a home and hearth to tend.”

In truth, I had not even considered it. My service to Lord Durham was volunteer, and I owed him no fealty. Indeed, since I had left home, I had no other obligation other than to my own needs.

“I… I have no place to go.” It was the first time I had given voice to my condition, put into words my loss. “There is no hearth for me to return to, nor… any pony who watches the window for sign of my return.”

Taking a few steps forward, I nudged her wing with my hoof. “To be honest, I was hoping I might stay on with you for a while longer at least. If it does not impose upon you. I believe I have demonstrated a willing-“

“You have told me your name.” Bjørg faced me with a tilted expression. “But to me, you are still a stranger, and you have already been company longer than I am accustomed to.”

I gulped.

“So if you are to be my guest any longer, than I must know who it is that I’d share a roof with.” She gestured towards one of the stools stowed under the table. “We will sit, and you will tell me your story.”

Shying from her gaze, it was not a desire to lie to her that caused me to hesitate. “There are... parts to my story that… I fear you will not believe. My quandary is that I should open my mouth, and you think me a liar.”

She crossed her forelegs, raised her chin, and her clear blue eyes became resolute. “I will be the judge of what I believe.”

As I approached the stool, my thoughts were to perhaps omit some of the more outstanding details of my identity. Or, to merely diminish what might otherwise seem to be rather incredible. But those two paths would be tantamount to lying. So I drew the seat out and laid my forelegs over it, exhaling as I set my rump on the floor. Considering for a moment how I might begin, many faces flashed through my mind; Luna, Sombra, my parents, Celestia, even Wiglaf.

Bjørg did likewise with the other stool as I had, posting herself to face me directly, waiting for me but sensing my unease. But, meeting her inspection at last, I found myself both daunted and captivated.

“My given name is Æclypse, that was the truth, and I am from a kingdom far to the west of here.”

Æclypse told his tale, and Bjørg listened, the conversation going into the night. At times she seemed skeptical, other times, aghast. He told her of his life in Thule, about his brother, about his dreamscape affair.

“I have heard of the great power of the Alicorns in the west.” She marveled. “You must be quite the dashing stallion to capture the heart of such a creature. And you are, as you’ve said, well bred.” The last line stung with a pouting sarcasm.

“A heritage of my mother’s blood, or so I’m told.” Remarked Æclypse. “But I hardly think I was the first charmer she’d met, growing up around all those nobles. Surely there were more proximate suitors to be had.”

“And yet…” Bjørg’s question lingered.

He then spoke about the fall of his brother, the inner turmoil of his decision to refuse Celestia’s pleas, the stripping of his name and exile. At hearing of these things, she became pensive, going longer before interrupting with a question or remark. She was especially brooding concerning the known details of Sombra’s descent into madness.

“Do you truly not know what was at the root of such evil?” She asked.

Æclypse first reaction was to balk at the idea, drawing himself up defensively before a few seconds rationale forced him to soften, and purse his begrudging lips.

“I can only say that, there was always something different about my brother. A black sheep to be sure, but once he got the chance to show how clever and adept he was, his place could no longer be denied. Then… then something changed in him, and I cannot say from whence it originated.

When he came to me with grand designs on the Crystal Empire, and I looked into his eyes… I saw something new within him, he was not the same unicorn I had grown up beside. Whatever dark power it was that infected him, I doubt I shall ever apprehend.”

Bjørg leaned away from the stool, a hundred or more thoughts vying for primacy. “Your story is quite…”

“Unbelievable?” He recommended after her pause with a semi-joking smirk, and when she did not immediately counter, it morphed into a cringe.

“I was going to say extraordinary, in the unusual sort of way. You must admit, you are asking me to accept, relying on not more than the honor of your word, this...” Much to his surprise, she began to chuckle. “That I should have a true-blooded prince asking for shelter in my little burrow. That—ha! That a slayer of dragons and wooer of princesses is sitting before me, a lowly recluse, chopping my firewood and fetching my water.”

Bjørg cradled her head in her hooves and began to laugh gently to herself, hiding her face behind the reach of her wings.

Æclypse exhaled through his nostrils and let his head sink, looking away in resignation. “I have over-asked the generosity of your credulity.”

It was by now the back-side of sunset, and a breeze had begun to rattle the panes of the window. Though the idea didn’t thrill him, he resolved to swallow the bitter pill of dignity. “I am fine enough to walk and travel.” He pushed away from the stool. “You have been more kind than I deserve, and I shall leave before I have over-burdened your home.”

With no belongings to collect, there fixed no anchor between him and the door, and to the world beyond. He need only to put one hoof before the other. So he got up, and began heading towards the door.

“Hey…” Stopping him before he could pass by, Bjørg wiped her eyes and reached out with a foreleg to prod his hip. “Do not be so eager to throw yourself out into the cold.”

She rose and faced him, brushing back the chestnut mane that had migrated forward. “I don’t know if all that you tell me is true, though I can’t conceive to what end one might invent such a tale. What I do know, is that you have been a fair guest, and all else, an interesting one. So… I will agree to board you for a time further, provided your character does not worsen.”

Æclypse’s demeanor visibly brightened with a swelling of the chest and rearing of the shoulders. “It is said that ponies age in one of two fashions, the first being like wine.”

“And the other?”

“Like milk.”

Her eyes clenched shut and she struggled to contain a burst of laughter, covering her mouth with a foreleg. After a moment and the initial rush had been tamed, Bjørg glanced at him sidelong and shook her head.

“Well, then let us both age in some measure of comfort. You can get the fire going before a chill sets in the house.” She began to turn away but halted. “If it please your lordship to do so, of course.” She said with a mock curtsy.

Now Æclypse suppressed his own laugh. “If you so desire, my Mistress.” He returned.

That night was likely the most enjoyable since before leaving Thule. I got the fire going, and she prepared a soup over it. Thereupon our conversation drifted into more pleasant topics, the nature of the local wood, location of the nearest settlements. Her leek and potato soup was better than I had anticipated, and I may have taken the lion’s share for my own bowl. She didn’t seem to mind though.

I was, however, able to get some of my own questions answered.

Æclypse tipped his bowl one last time, slurping the broth down.

“Glad you like it.” Bjørg said, sitting across the table from him, her own bowl empty.

With a licking of the lips, Æclypse used his magic to set the bowl aside. “My tutor Iambic Pentameter used to scold me at the dinner table. ‘Knees off the table’ he’d say. ‘Don’t gobble your food like a yak’.”

“Is that how yaks eat?”

“Oh no, they’re much worse. Louder too.” Suddenly Æclypse slammed his hooves on the table and stuck out his lower jaw. “YAK HAVE BEST SOUP!” He bellowed. “IF SOUP NOT PERFECT, YAK SMASH!”

Bjørg recoiled. “Oh my.”

“Indeed, though they’re very friendly once you get to know them.” Nudging the bowl with a hoof, Æclypse made a show of pondering a thought by casually jostling it. “Speaking of obnoxious neighbors, you have a noticeable lack of neighbors of any sort.”

“As I’ve said, the villagers and I have our disagreements.” She fluttered off her seat and took up both bowls. “I need only deal with them when I require a certain few supplies.”

She brought them to a basin and submerged them in the water. “I don’t give them cause to bother me and they leave me in peace.”

“Come now.” Æclypse trotted over, took the basin in his magic and moved it upwards away from her. “Won’t you trade me a tale for a tale?”

She pulled down her basin, which was actually nothing more than an old wooden bucket, giving him a look that conveyed her displeasure with his prodding. “Perhaps another time.”

I understood her wish for privacy, having barely talked about my own troubles with anyone. But I had the luxury of being far removed from the source and occupying myself with other ventures so as not to dwell on misfortune. However, the matters that affected her were a habitual occurrence.

Leaving the matter alone for the time being, we spent the rest of the night by the fire. She was deep in thought for some time and busied herself by sketching on a parchment srcoll with a bit of charcoal. I had by then refused to take her bed any longer and relegated myself to a trio of blankets and the nook beside the fireplace. An advantage of my chosen nest that I omitted to tell her, was that the spot was opposite the entrance, and afforded me the perfect view to keep watch on the door.

I had initially picked-up the habit while under Wiglaf’s training, and had it reinforced recently after my campaign against the griffins. Just as well, any daring intruder would find themselves quite surprised to find me striking out from my obscure ambush. And Bjørg was a pleasant mare to guard for. She slept quietly, tossed little, and even uttered a soft hum whenever she seemed to be dreaming.

There was one night, as I nestled into my corner, that I had become a bit restless, and unable to settle myself, I went to the window and gazed out to the forest. By chance, it happened that the moon was in full power that night, and not darkened by clouds, shone brightly. Much to my surprise, however, was the presence of a unicorn’s silhouette across the right side. The sight was mesmerizing, and I did not understand why at the time, but there was something saddening about it.

Bjørg and I carried on for the next few weeks, and I noticed an elevation in her bearing in general. It might have been the lighter work load, but the way I would see the corners of her mouth curl when she looked at me gave indication to another factor. And in this way, we got along for a bit over three months until winter settled in. I did of course, eventually construct my own mattress.

I surprised her once, with a small gift of kindledust. Made of dried plants and ground into a fine grain, it makes for an excellent tinder fuel to get fire going when forced to deal with fresh wood or damp conditions. The old Thulian method, was to sprinkle a bit over the logs, for even small amounts were enough, then spark it with our magic.

Despite our combined efforts, the forest can only bear so much provision for two ponies, and just past mid-winter, she and I set out to purchase supplies. At first, she was leery of inviting me along, but I made myself quite a nuisance until she acquiesced with a mirthful sigh. Though she did complain that the journey would take much longer now that she had to wait for me and not simply fly at her own pace.

The hamlet of Trotsford was a budding center of commerce, southeast of Bjørg’s home and with a humble reputation for the catalog of its library. We all know how that turned out. Upon reaching the outskirts, she donned her blue cloak and pulled the hood over to hide the better part of her recognizability. I recalled her mentioning that her presence among the townsponies was not an amiable one. With that in mind, I kept myself close to her flank.

We moved quickly through the town, avoiding any curious onlookers, and shortly enough we reached the market in the east section. A light snow had begun to fall, and under overcast grey skies we strolled along the row of shops and stands selling foodstuffs and other small items. We did garner the notice of a few here and there, though nothing that could not be attributed to the mystery of strangers amidst them.

Unfortunately, those inquisitive stares only increased in frequency and scrutiny. While she was able to purchase some fruit and a set of cooking utensils, she was not unaware of the whispers of gossip that stalked us like a panther from the edges. Every so often she would glance out from under the rim of her show-frosted hood to make sure I was still nearby. She said little beyond bartering with the shopkeeps, being as polite as necessary but not making any friendly conversation.

The cold crystal flakes were nothing of a bother to me, being of Thulian breed, accustomed to the northern mountains. So even as she pulled her cloak close for warmth, I was able to keep my own attention on our surroundings. Any pony who might otherwise have thought to confront her thought better of incurring my displeasure. Added to that, the prospect of tangling with my magic in what I observed was a mostly earth pony town.

“I have what I need.” Bjørg said, tucking the last item into her saddlebag. “If it’s all the same to you, I’d rather not linger.”

“As you wish, mistress.” We turned away from the market and began to head back the way we had come. The crowd had seemed to anticipate the route of our departure, poking out from windows, doorways, and leering from corners to watch us pass. With a few subtle sneers and narrowed eyes, I kept a comfortable distance betwixt us and the nearest.

That was until a snowball came down from one of the rooftops and splashed against her left side. I had been inspecting on the right when I heard the soft ‘puft’ of its detonation. Spinning around in time to see the gaggle of children ducking back down out of sight, my magic was ready but with no suitable target.

Bjørg had paused in step, frozen actually, staring at the ground.

“Have you some weakness to snowballs?” I asked, only somewhat joking as I prodded her shoulder.

“I have been pelted with much worse. Let’s just go.” Stepping off with a perceptible abruptness, she left me a few steps paces behind.

Giggles betrayed the next assault and I was able to intercept a trio of the frozen ballista in flight, sending them on a return course. During my distraction however, a pair of mares took the opportunity to block Bjørg’s path.

“What have you come for this time, witch?” One of them asked in a bitter voice. “What kind of black magic are you up to now?”

Bjørg backpeddled and tried to go around only for the other one to move in coordination.

“Is there an issue ladies?” I called out firmly, trotting up to Bjørg’s side. The mares looked me up and down, the consternation registering in their faces. “Have you some matter to discuss with my mistress?”

“Your… mistress?” Croaked the second, trading a puzzled expression with her companion.

“Aye.” I said, straightening my posture. “I am in her service. Her requests are my command, her quarrels… my own.” The latter part was emphasized.

The mares casually backed away, but still, their suspicious gaze did not leave me, nor did mine upon them. When the way was clear, I turned to Bjørg.

“Shall we depart, Mistress?”

She said nothing but brushed past me, and I followed.

“Bewitched, to be sure.” I heard one of those wretched harridans mutter.

“Probably hewn from a log and bespelled with a spirit.” Her friend added.

We walked on in silence until we had left the village proper and were out on the road. Passing the last of the outlying homes, the path blended back into rural wilderness.

“Lovely town.” I said, blowing some snowflakes off the end of my nose. “Pity we don’t visit it more often.”

“I’m glad you find such humor in their mistrust.” Her tone was clearly upset. “I did not ask you to come to my defense.”

“I did not seek your permission.”

Bjørg tossed back her hood. “What shall I do now? Things will be much worse for me if I ever go back there without you.”

“Then I suppose you have two options. Either keep me with you or find markets elsewhere.”

She said nothing in response to me for some time. Later, as we entered the wood and the evening sun was setting ahead of us, she nudged closer to my right side. “Thank you.”

As time would show, she chose to keep me.

---

THE OCEAN

I broke the surface with a gasp of air. The warm rays of sunlight were a welcome change from the coldness of the deep.

“How long was I under?” Was my immediate thought, seeing the blue horizon split by the sun. The storm had cleared, and by some measure of time judging by the calm waters and relatively clear skies. But a change in weather was hardly the most important thing on my mind. I looked down and saw that small fins had replaced my hooves. What’s more I could feel the difference in my lower body. No longer did I thrash my legs back and forth, now I felt the musculature of a unified effort thrusting me continually upwards.

“It worked!” I cried aloud, twirling about to exercise my newly acquired anatomy. I was in as much shock as I was elation. My delight would have to be enjoyed alone for neither the Red Talon nor the ship of Sinann’s lover was in sight.

“Oh” Indeed there was nothing but the blue desert in all directions. “Well, east it is then!”

With my very life in debt to her aid, my honor would not allow me to leave her to the clutches of the sea-monster in her own hour of need. If to the east her salvation laid, then east I would go. “The Crimson Treasure has waited this long, it can wait a little longer.” I rationalized.

To any common pony, even those fairly educated, the prospect of navigating the open ocean with no instruments might have seemed cause for panic. Fortunately, I was finely suited to the task. Not only had my years aboard the Red Talon given me a practical familiarity of navigation, there was also my knowledge of the stars.

Luna, my first love, had given me an expert lesson in the layout of the far-flung bodies, and their relation to the cardinal relations. As soon as night fell, I would have all the tools necessary to guide my way. For now, there was only Celestia’s Sun to serve as my reference point. As arbitrary as one might think the track of the heavenly bodies are under the Alicorn’s direction, there was an order to their daily journey, kept as it was since the time of Durin, and even then before him.

Judging by the measure of the sun in relation to the horizon, I estimated that it was morning, which meant Celestia’s boon was still in the cradle of the east. With the promise of the unknown ahead of me, I steeled my courage and dove back under.

Traveling on the waves was a marvelous experience, a wild vista in perpetual motion. A lifestyle as rugged as any to be found in the mountains and forests. Under the water and without the dire peril of drowning, I found myself submerged in a fundamentally different world than existed in the air. Sounds and sights were morphed to senses, my organs adapted to the aquatic but my mind still appraising them. The ocean was deep, an atmosphere as immeasurable below the surface as it was above.

If the sheer volume of the sea left one feeling tiny, at least I had plenty of company. The ocean brimmed with life of almost every size and shape imaginable. Schools of fish so numerous that I could not behold them all at once, moving as if possessed of a single mind. A family of whales sauntering gracefully along on their migration, their ethereal song the haunting symphony of this blue world.

But the abyss also had its share of the fearsome. I was fortunate to retain the magic of my horn, else I might have faced the denizens in darkness. A strange shark, with its tooth-covered bottom jaw curled in on itself over and over prowled near me for a few minutes, investigating the foreigner. I could sense its predatory curiosity deciding if I was prey or not, but it dared not venture into the reach of my light and satisfied itself skulking in and out of the shadow.

Just how long I journeyed I could not say. The farther I went the deeper I fell, and all partition of day and night blurred into oblivion. To my surprise, this black continent provided its own dazzling aspects. Bright lights emanating from a thousand points moved all around me, living constellations ever shifting, ever reorienting this sunken galaxy.

Eventually I entered a valley of miniature volcanoes, conical vents rising from the floor spewing smoke, dust, and molten rock. Particles falling like snow in a Thulian winter. It was here that I decided to take an overdue rest, nestled into a crook from which I could keep a careful watch yet remain unseen myself. And thank Crom I chose well, for my sleep was interrupted at some point, by the presence of something lurking. Vibrations of ponderous steps echoed through the elemental forest, matched in its terrible resonance by the methodical breathing of a creature, the force of its respiratory exertions like rolling thunder.

Pressing myself to the wall of my nook, I trembled as a shadow passed nearby, blotting out the orange glow of the magma streams. The magnitude of its presence radiated, and I had not felt anything so menacing since I was astride the Fire of the North.

But after a few moments it passed like a storm, leaving a calmative wake behind. To this day I know not what entity I had crossed paths with, but I was only too glad to continue my journey without its attention. Even if I did sleep with one eye open thenceforth.

It was after passing through the field of vents that I crossed into a flat, barren scape of gentle rolls. Nothing seemed to live in this desolation, this desert of all the tiny bits of things trickling down from above. And for some time, I found nothing here but stones.

But not just ordinary stones. I found two piles of them, arraigned in such a way that left no doubt of being purposeful. Stacked stone walls opposite one another, the plate-like rocks stood as high as myself on the floor, with one wide opening to welcome me as I approached. The opposite end narrowed, focusing the traveler onward like a river.

Straight through I went, and after a while, came to another construct much like the previous. Only this time I saw the impression of glyphs carved across the layered plates. Among them, depictions of S-shaped bodies with equine heads. Portrayals of them in various acts of communal activity, ceremony, even gathered around a much larger figure of similar shape, this one bearing a crown.

“Seaponies… right.” Legend of their kind had existed for as long as I could recall, a few mentions even reaching Thule, arriving with sailors who landed in the northern ports. Their existence was much more recognized than the Mermares, with many more documented encounters to attest to their presence. The average experience ranged from a happenstance sighting, to the rescue of a sailor overboard, to instances of crews being harried out of their perceived territories. It was said that the Alicorns had made contact with their leadership, but whatever accord was struck was not public knowledge.

And nopony of course, had ever been privy to the nature and location of their civilization. Until now.

There eventually came a third marker, this one a wide set of pillars of stacked shale, as thick around as I was long, and taller by more than twice. This construct was covered in blue spots, more than I could count at a glance. I wondered at the design for a few moments, trying to understand what meaning was being conveyed. It could be a perimeter marker or used to denote the direction of the west from which I had come.

I passed on it with a shrug and swum onward, a sense of something left unseen nagging at my mind. It was not long, however, until the meaning became clear.

Some several hundred paces along, I began to find the ocean floor populated by innumerable blue shells, oysters by the look. Strangely, I noticed that they appeared to be evenly spread out, roughly two steps distance from one to another. My curiosity got the better of my caution, and leaning down to examine one closely, I nudged it with my nose to either provoke a response or flip in on the reverse side.

My reward was a puff of sparkling blue mist shot out from between the oyster’s lips. I recoiled from the cloud, but it had already doused my nose and tongue, leaving a sweet but dizzying taste.

[insert music video]

I had shut my eyes to shield them from the particles, but when I opened them again, I found my world was rapidly spiraling out of rationality.

At once my vision exploded with bright and confusing colors, the dreary world round me blooming into vibrant, captivating life. Where a drab, sandy plain had been, was now a sunny meadow of waving kelp and crystal blue water. It was almost too much for the mind to absorb.

“All our times have come.

Here, but now they’re gone.”

I looked down to see the blue oysters themselves flapping open and closed to sing their choir, waffling side-to-side with each word.

“Seasons don’t fear the reaper,

Nor do the wind, the sun, or the rain.

We can be like they are.

Come on baby, don’t fear the reaper,

Baby, join my side, don’t fear the reaper,

We’ll be able to fly,

Then you’ll understand….”

On either side of the path before me the mollusks danced, enticing me onward, and onward I went.

“La, la la, la la.”

Neither my mind nor my body was my own. I was as a child watching a puppet show, but from the perspective of the marionette. I felt my torso flex and paddle, but I was not a part of the decision.

“La, la la, la la.”

In perfect synchronicity, twirling, weaving like a field of wheat, the oysters spun their enchantment. The fool I was, could offer no resistance. My reason for coming, thoughts of my future, even my name was lost in a cloud somewhere above and out of my concern.

“Valentine is done.

Here, but now they’re gone.”

The waters were now rippling with blue and green oscillations, or had they always been doing that? I couldn’t tell.

“Romeo and Juliet, and together in eternity.

Romeo and Juliet…

40,000 ponies living every day…

Like Romeo and Juliet…

40,000 ponies living everyday…

Redefine happiness.

Another 40,000 coming everyday...

We can be like they are…”

Colors of all shades and scope flashed before me in an overwhelming avalanche of mental thunder.

“Come on baby, don’t fear the Reaper.

Baby take my lead, don’t fear the Reaper.

We’ll be able to fly, don’t fear the Reaper.

Baby you’ll understand…

La, la-la, la la…”

A shiver coursed through my body like a bolt of lightning, if I could even recognize the collection of sensation I was feeling as a physical form. Around me still rows after rows of the blue oysters swayed back and forth in rhythmic synchronization, harmonizing in a multitude of voices that merged into one hypnotic tone. But I was not static, no I had been moving along, conveyed by some means not apparent to me.

Then things suddenly turned dark and fearsome, with the shadow of a black crown rising up to loom over me like a dread castle. I felt myself rushing then towards it like a riptide against my will, drawn faster and faster until the shadow consumed me and I plummeted into a well of nothingness, tumbling end over end into the void of eternity. Monsters of color and sound erupted around me like volcanoes, and I was swept up into a hurricane of terror greater than I could comprehend.

There I bore witness to things I could not sanely describe. My body flashed with colors by the second, the whole of existence around me a repudiation of rationality and the comfortable dimensions of mortal life. A million cackles found their way to me, accompanied by a million iridescent eyes surrounding me, each of them glowing with a perfect maniacal lust. This galaxy of insanity seemed to be without end or bearing as I fell.

Down below me where some destination awaited, there appeared against the blasts of color a dark silhouette, that of a stallion’s profile. On either side of it then a set of wings flared, and the fantastically terrifying world retreated from it, leaving only the shape to transform into a glorious and shining thing. Gratefully I then allowed myself to drop like a pebble into a pond and feel the ripples of warmth embrace me.

“Love of two is one.

Here, but now they’re gone.”

Luna, I saw appear through a mist, smiling in some other direction.

“Came the last night of sadness,

And it was clear she couldn’t go on…

Then the door opened and the wind appeared.”

I reached out for her, and she turned to me with a contented smirk.

“The candles blew and then disappeared.

The curtains flew and then she appeared…

Saying don’t be afraid…”

Luna mouthed words, beckoning me towards her.

“Come on baby, and she had no fear.

And she ran to him, then they started to fly…

They looked backward and said goodbye…

She had become like they are…

She had taken his hoof,

She had become like they are…

Come on baby, don’t fear the Reaper…”

Luna turned away from me and I followed her into the hidden white mist, wanting nothing more than to escape with her from everything; the madness around me, the Red Talon, the curse of Aquileia, my exile. My mind’s eye then dissolved into a dream-like sedation, the song of the blue oysters fading out with it.

I don’t know how long I hung in that limbo, but I know that I would have happily stayed there if not for the intervention that was to come.

“We got one that made it through…” I heard a small voice say in a nasally tone.

“Is it just me? Or ain’t they supposed to be all girls?” Replied another in an even higher pitch.

Æclypse, transformed as he was by the power of the amulet, hung suspended upside down in the water, his forefins dancing lazily in front of him as the two seapony guards observed him with curious interest.

“Arrow, what do you suppose the oysters’ spray got him seeing?” Their bodies curved like an S with their tails coiled at the bottom, the two seaponies kept themselves steady by gently waving their translucent fins. One of them prodded the insensible Æclypse with an extension of his prehensile tail. He was mostly orange but crossed laterally with purple stripes from the neck down. Atop his head he wore a small hat of purple metal with a long wisp of pink seaweed sprouting from its center.

“I dunno Coral, could be anything. Seems to have taken a number on him though.” Slightly leaner, Arrow was evenly patterned with blue and gold lateral stripes, quite differently from his partner however, his armament was a golden-metal helm that covered his head, wedged to a point above the face and with fixed plates over each cheek. His nose as well was narrowed knife-like down the center.

“Well, we best bring him along then, the king’ll want to be appraised ‘ah this.”

“Right ‘O!”

Working in tandem, they used their tails to grip Æclypse by the forelimbs and haul him behind.

“I’m burning, I’m burning, I’m burning for you…-” Æclypse mumbled incoherently.

What… What I saw I cannot truly describe. I was again surrounded by sounds and colors, though not the same terrifying cacophony I had experienced in the Blue Oyster fields. These were the kind I might hear walking through a village; voices of conversation, a mother ushering her child, the laughter of youngsters at play. Through-on some time I heard the all-too familiar heavy grind of doors closing, recalling memories of my father’s thronehall.

“Arrow! Coral! What have you two brought me?” I heard a bellowing voice say. But it was not a fearsome tone, rather it was of the jolly type, the kind that one might expect to burst into a hearty guffaw at the slightest provocation. I felt the grips on my forelegs loose and vision began to clear.

The first things that came into focus were the curious faces of my chaperons, quite unlike any two faces I had ever seen before.

The same booming voice called out again. “Don’t crowd the fellow! Stand aside! Leastways don’t obstruct my view!”

The guards parted to either side of me, and there upon a grand throne crafted from a tremendous shellfish, sat the majestic king of the Seaponies.

“Welcome to our underwater realm, friend.” He announced. “Eh, you can hear me, can’t you?”

It took Æclypse a moment to fully grasp his situation, but once he saw the imposing regality of the seapony that was easily four-times the size of the others, the mental haze retreated. He was adorned in seafoam green scales, fins a gradient of rust to translucent, and blue pauldrons that seemed to be a part of his own biology. Striking as his stature was, his face was kindly, large soft hazel eyes and a warm smile. A pair of gold horns and a matching cranial sail gave this king his crown, and about his neck was a lush mane of orange hair.

“I hear you, my lord!” lowering my head, recognizing immediately the manner of noble I was in the presence of. “I am Æclypse Unforgiven, exiled son of Thule. Honored to be your guest.”

“Yes, yes, yes.” Using his tail, he brushed it underneath my chin to usher me to straighten out. I have known lords who preferred to dispense with formalities before, and I tended to prefer them.

“N’and I am Leo, King of Aquestria, and you are the guest of Nautilus Hall.”

Glancing about, I saw that the hall was a composite construction of gold and some ceramic material, all in the style of seashells, naturally. Doorways on either side led straight out to the open water where many more denizens bustled about.

“I’ll wager that you have quite a story to tell, Æclypse. I know that the form you take is not your natural state.” King Leo gently paddled backwards until he was nestled into his throne. “Tell me what brings you here, and by what means have you taken the form of a Mermare?”

“You are wise, my lord, this finned body is not my own. I was aboard a ship at sea, on my search for a great treasure, caught in the midst of a tremendous storm. We spied another ship and saw that it had come under assault by some monster. Ill-fortune tossed me from the deck and into the water, where I encountered one of the fabled Mermares you speak of. Captured together by the beast, I made an arrangement with her and her kin to escape and seek the help of the Seaponies. As a means, the one called Sinann gave me this object, which transformed me into… into this.”

The king leaned forward for a moment to inspect the amulet with a guarded curiosity. “This… Beast, that waylaid the ship… could you describe it?”

“Vast beyond my reckoning.” I began “Of red hue, a forest of tentacles large and long enough to hug a galleon, a hoarder of treasure, and a voice like a tumbling wave.”

As I gave my account, the King’s face gave tell that he was familiar with the creature, as was the rest of the court by the way they began to chatter in hushed tones.

“I know the beast.” Leo’s expression had fallen into one of thoughtful grief. “If it has a true or given name, it has never shared it. The name we give it comes from the dreadful sound he makes when he sucks in a breath. We call the thing, Squirk, and he has been a bane of Aquestria and the Creator’s ocean for as long as history has been recorded.”

“This fiend Squirk now holds the last Mermares in his treasure hoard, Sinann, Asria, and Muirgen, it is at their behest that I have sought your aid to free them.”

The king rose up from his seat, gazing sternly onward to some point beyond. “For long the beast has been content to fill his chest with gold and treasure, but now his greed overreaches even his arms!”

Æclypse turned to see the others in the hall all coming forward, harkening to their king’s words.

“That the greatest jewels of the sea should be his prisoners is too foul a deed to abided! The red tyrant must be overthrown!”

The court shouted in agreement, more and more coming in from the entrances.

“Your mission is honored, young Æclypse, you have found allies here. The abominable Squirk has sealed his doom! Come!”

King Leo led me over to the windows as the onlookers parted to let us pass. A great conk shell was rushed to his side by an attendant, the king grasping it in stride. As I followed him out, I saw before me the city itself sprawled out over the ocean floor, a wondrous metropolis of spiraling towers and brilliant colors.

Still marveling over the capitol, the blare of the horn caught me quite by surprise, the sensation of its call sending shivers through my body. From the city I saw rise a multitude of Aquestrians, hundreds, thousands ascended to heed the summons. An army greater than I had ever seen.

---

YEARS BEFORE

The evening sunlight weaved its way though the trees as a white unicorn colt stepped somewhat clumsily through the tall grass of the glade, his short black mane plastered to his neck from all the dew it had absorbed. There was a bulbous toad hopping through the stalks ahead of him and he worked after it, face pinched in determination. His magic still to immature to be of any use, the little colt would have his prize one way or another.

“Theodan!” A mare’s voice called out. “Theodan, where have you gone?”

Glancing back over his shoulder, the boy sucked in a breath of alarm, not wanting to rouse his mother’s anger by not answering. But neither did he want to startle his quarry and cause it to flee faster into the grass. Boldness welled up in him, and there arose a thought that if he could catch the toad, and proclaim his victory to his mother, she might be more forgiving.

The toad had come to a halt by a half-rotted log, choosing to nestle itself in the overhang. Theodan crept close, copying as best he could the stalking technique he had watched cats employ when closing in; gentle, methodical steps. He planned to pin it with his hooves and hug it close before it got the chance to squirm away.

He leapt, just as he had watched cats do, pouncing forelegs first, his little heart racing with adrenaline. And indeed, he felt the pudgy form of the toad under hoof trying to find an escape. His hunt was victorious.

“Well done, boy.”

Standing nearby, Æclypse looked on with satisfaction over the peaks of the grass.

Startled to see his father, Theodan’s legs retracted, and the toad leaped at the opportunity to freedom. The two ponies watched it disappear into the meadow, the younger frowning.

“It got away.” The colt complained.

“As they will sometimes.” Said Æclypse, striding forward to stand beside Theodan. “The lesson is to not be deterred by failure, but to learn from it. There is value in failure.”

Theodan scrunched his face. “Next time, my magic will be stronger.”

“Now there’s a thought. Catching a toad will be a good exercise to develop your magic.”

Spying a pebble on the ground, the colt concentrated and bent his will towards moving it with his mind. The stone was enveloped in a faint blue light, rattled in place a few times, and slowly slid across the ground towards him. His tongue sticking out absent-mindedly, his mouth curled into a grin.

“There you go.” Æclypse continued to coach. “Like any other muscle it grows stronger with use.”

It was then that Theodan was suddenly taken-up in sparkling white magic, lifted off his hooves and placed on his father’s back.

“I will help you practice more after dinner, but for now we must wash all that litter from your mane. You know your mother will not have a dirty colt at the dinner table.”

“Then why don’t we eat outside?” Theodan asked, peeking through the strands of his father’s mane. “That way, we can eat however we like.”

The idea made Æclypse smile. “That would be more freeing, but trust me when I tell you son, that having a home and family to supper with is well worth the inconvenience of being clean.”

There was a muted sigh of disappointment behind his ear, but he was content to let the boy have his moment of childish irritation.

“Remember son, what is most valuable, is often underrated.” Æclypse could almost hear his own father’s voice in the words as he spoke them.

There was little to disturb them on this particular spring evening, the sun sinking into the horizon but not fully submerged by the governance of Princess Celestia. The sound of crickets already beginning to amalgamate into a constant buzz, interrupted only by the croaking of well-hidden frogs.

They reached the stream that divided the meadow, only deep enough to reach the knees, but it ran clean from the hills of the west down to the south east. Æclypse set his son down beside him at the water’s edge and thrust his face downwards to give it a vigorous thrash. Theodan observed for a moment, then mimicked his father and dunked his head likewise.

It was just then that a white Pegasus with soft brown hair crashed down on the opposite side, out of breath and eyes wide with fright.

“Æclypse!” Bjørg barked hoarsely, so as not to broadcast anything too loud, bangs of hair swinging over her face.

Simultaneously father and son lifted their heads, throwing their manes back, water arching, to stare at her with sudden confusion.

“Strangers at the house!” She said, fluttering over to wrap a protective wing around Theodan, using the feather tips to comb his hair back. “Wearing cloaks and skulking through the trees!”

Æclypse stared hard towards the direction of home, bottom lip reaching up to clear the water still dripping from his muzzle.

“I dare not be caught alone in the cabin. So…” Bjørg gave him an apologetic expression, her eyebrows flexing inwards.

“Stay here.” He told her in a stony tone without shifting his gaze. “I will attend our guests.”

Æclypse, moving at a hurried pace was nearing the homestead when he began to smell the smoke. His nostrils pricked, ears swiveled, and he lunged forward into a sprint.

By the time he reached the home, fire was already spitting out of the windows, the door still ajar and billowing smoke. He stood there shocked for a moment, mouth agape chest tightening in fear and rage.

A rustling in the brush off to his right startled him, and he glanced over just in time to see the movement of pony-sized shapes escaping into the forest. He knew that if he stayed to put the fire out, the arsonists would get away. But if he pursued them, the home would swiftly be burned out.

A series of husky grunts left him as the seconds to decide ticked by, the mind at war with the heart. With a sneer of clenched teeth, Æclypse torn himself away and set-off after the others.

“Come on Hedgewick!” The concealed pony snapped to his companions, the two others in tow a few paces behind as they galloped. “I don’t want to run into that unicorn of hers!”

A blast of white magic slammed into the one who was farthest back, sending them crashing into the brush. The others skidded to a halt, caught off guard by the sudden attack. Æclypse leaped from their flank, using the bulk of his body to tackle the next off their hooves. With a gasp, the front runner stumbled as he turned to flee, but a lash of magic caught him around his hind legs and yanked him to the ground.

Standing with a glare of cold fury in his eyes, Æclypse brought him kicking and screaming back, digging his hooves into the dirt to try and forestall the coming punishment. He bucked, and felt the magical grip loosen for a moment, but only for a moment. The pony who had been taken out first managed to stand, and seeing his compatriots in trouble, made to lunge at the unicorn. At the last second Æclypse was able to dodge the attack, but in the distraction, lost concentration on the ringleader.

The hooded figure and Æclypse reared up, and the stranger proved a half-second quicker in lashing out with a hoof that almost connected with the Thulian’s nose. In reprisal, Æclypse tried to land both forelegs into his chest, but his anger thieved from his accuracy and overextended the attack, falling forward onto his stomach. Now freed, the ringleader circled around the scuffle, still too hesitant to throw his weight into it.

Shaking their head to clear the haze of pain, the one who Æclypse had shoulder-checked looked up and saw the anger on the face of the imposing unicorn, and was filled with a dread that caused them to shuffle backward into a tree.

The pony in melee came down with both hooves, intending to crack a few ribs, but Æclypse dodged the blow by sucking in his stomach and thrusting off a leg. He tried to kick upwards from his prone position, but the stranger batted it away.

Just then the skulking ringleader saw his opportunity and came in fast, striking Æclypse in the back of the head with a kick. The unicorn’s sense of balance was shocked by an overwhelming dizziness and he swung a leg out reflexively. The ringleader barked for the third other one to get up and help, but they shook their head.

“Get up and help us!”

Æclypse felt somepony try to throw their bodyweight over him, but even stunned he possessed the wherewithal to bring his strength to bear and toss them off. He then tried to fire another magic blast, but in his haste and disorientation, the beam went wild and struck a tree instead. Again, the leader took advantage of the chaos and brought his hooves down on the lone fighter’s chest, eliciting a grunt of pain. Æclypse tried again to counterstrike, but again his retaliation went just a bit too wide.

With another try, the fighting pony managed to press his body down on the unicorn to immobilize him, smiling to think he’d finally wrangled the witch’s protector. The glee was premature however, as grappling with his foe had given Æclypse a good enough fix on his positioning to land a stiff hoof under his chin to earn a surprised yelp. His vision returning to clarity, Æclypse also spotted the other pony standing over him and hit him with a blast of magic hard enough to send him stumbling back. The leader managed to shoulder the brunt of the force by shielding his face with a foreleg

Æclypse tried to wrestle himself free, but the pony on top of him refused to be discarded, keeping with as he rolled. Fortunately, the shifting in position allowed Æclypse get a point-blank avenue of attack. Magical fire erupted from his horn in a torrent to strike the pony in the barrel, the force of the blast lifting him of the ground and colliding into the trunk of a tree with a lung-crushing crack. Just as fast as he thought he was free, a set of forelegs wrapped themselves around his muscular neck, ireful, ragged breaths pressing up against his ear.

The one who had refrained from the violence cautiously crept over to the crumpled and wheezing body of their comrade, testing his responsiveness with a probing hoof. “Tallimore?” quivered a female voice. There was no active response.

A bellowing roar of fury, and Æclypse surged upward from the ground, carrying the ringleader with him and used the momentum to swing the pony over his shoulder and to the ground.

With his hood now thrown back, the snarling face of a grey/blue stallion glared back at the unicorn, the bangs of his twilight blue mane curling around to frame his cheeks.

No more than a lad. Æclypse thought to himself. A bloody juvenile.

He swung out with a hoof and struck Æclypse across the jaw.

For a few moments the two stallions simply stared into one another’s eyes, neither side offering apology or armistice. The Earth Pony must have known that against the magic of the unicorn it would only be a matter of time before its potency was brought to bear, and when it was, the fight would be brief. And though he had been out of the practice of soldiery for a number of years, Æclypse could still discern the determination in the eye of his foe. And one contestant to another, there was something to respect about that. At the moment however, honor was quite beside the point.

The curved horn illuminated in a white nimbus, and a matching ether formed a ring around the neck of the Earth Pony stallion. Æclypse’s face tightened into a cold grimace as he watched the pony reach for his throat, only to find himself steadily being lifted off the ground by it.

“You have made a grave error torching the home of my family, friend.” Æclypse spoke over the strained grunts and gags of the other. “I do not fault you for the ignorance of whom you have made an enemy, or what power now dominates you. So I will introduce myself more formally.”

His words were pitiless, his tone seething as Æclypse stalked forward. “I am Æclypse Unforgiven, descendant of kings, slayer of the great northern Fyre Drake. More importantly, I am a father and husband to a family you have ruined the home of.”

The struggling stallion was turned in place, his head rotated downwards so that he would face Æclypse.

“I don’t know who you are, but I will tell you that you are woefully unprepared to do battle with me. I am not some gentle, reclusive mare to be frightened and terrorized. You came to our home because of your fear of the Witch of the Westmareland. But I will tell you, friend, I am the one you should be afraid of.”

The two stallions face were naught but a hoof’s reach away, a dagger-like sneer curling his lip back.

“Please stop!” Sliding in between the two, the Earth Pony mare, her own hood back to reveal a terrified face of soft beige with a curly light brown mane. A pretty young thing if not for the current circumstances. “Please… my lord, you have won, mercy! I beg you!”

Æclypse narrowed his eyes as he turned his attention to her, but not relinquishing the other. “And who is he to you?” He asked. “That you would plead mercy on his behalf?”

She tried to reach up and touch her hoof to his, but he was still too high off the ground and she only just felt the wind of his passing. Accepting that the unicorn was indeed the master of this situation, she turned to him and lowered her head in shame, a tear on her cheek.

“He… he is my brother. I swear the fire was an accident! We didn’t mean to damage anything, but Tallimore tossed a jar of something into the fireplace, and it got out of control! We only came to-”

Æclypse heard her plea, but the words themselves faded to background noise as another voice emerged from memory to pierce his wrath.

You must never punish out of anger, son. That is the reaction of a tyrant.

She was interrupted by the sound if her brother’s body collapsing to the ground behind her, gasping and reaching out to lay protective hold of his sister even in his weakened state.

Æclypse stood over them, his presence a menacing shadow cast. “Take your companions and leave. While I still allow it.”

“Yes, my Lord.” She stammered and hurried over to where Tallimore had been laying, who was by now propping himself up on wobbly legs to receive her aid. Together they reunited with the mare’s brother, all the while under the icy inspection of the brawny Thulian. He remained tight-lipped as they kept a few paces distance to skirt around him and find their path again. The girl looked back one last time with a mixture of fear and regret on her face.

In retrospect, I should perhaps have questioned them more. But in the moment I was too ready to jump to the worst conclusions, I doubt I could have heard anything they had to say with reason. Which would undoubtedly have incurred the ire of the whole village instead of just the snide gossips.

By the time I returned to the cottage, I found several small rain clouds clustered about, Bjørg using her native Pegasus expertise to douse the fire. Theodan was sitting a little ways away watching his mother at her craft, and at the sound of my approach he turned and fixed me with a look of curiosity. He seemed unable to comprehend why anypony would want to cause us any harm.

“Father-” He asked. “Why have they done this? Have we done something wrong?”

“No, Theodan.” I told him, holding his chin up with a hoof. “Your mother has skill in certain magical medicines. The ponies of the town distrust it as unnatural for a Pegasus to practice.” This was the fundamental truth, but I decided to omit other details for the time being.

“But why?”

I took a moment to think before I answered. How best do I shatter such innocent naiveté? “Ponies often fear what they do not understand, and there is a protection to be found in that instinct. However, like any instinct, it can be deceived or misdirected.”

Bjørg emerged from the inside, her white fur now sleet grey, hair matted with moisture, cheeks streaked with ash under her eyes. It looked as if she had been crying black tears. She used her wings to batter away the clouds and send them floating off, and I could see by the flexing of her throat that she was struggling to hold back her emotions. It was one of moments in the time I knew her that I was truly humbled by the strength of her spirit. Only once had she ever let me see her cry out of sadness.

Seeing me, her wings folded in and she strode over, her chin held high in defiance of her own anguish. She must have noticed some marks on my face that I did not realize I had sustained in the fight, for she reached up with a hoof to caress my neck, a familiar look of appraisal before she found my eyes.

At once I saw all the words that wanted to burst out in her quivering blue irises. Our home was no longer safe, it had been attacked and defiled for no better reason than the capriciousness of others. She could never again feel safe in the place that she had built and borne her son. We must find a new home.

---

YEARS LATER, THE OCEAN

I had not had such an army behind me since my days in Thule. Crossing back over the abyssal plains, I was at the side of King Leo, and in trail behind us the multitudes of Seaquestria determined to bring an end to the monstrous Squirk. I could see the light of my horn reflected in their eyes, giving the dark depths the appearance of living constellation, moving as an oncoming wave.

I had not the presence of mind to note it at the time of my escape, but the beast’s lair was in fact a massive cavern in which he concealed himself for rest and to protect his hoard. It would be a perilous venture to go willingly into the mouth of his domain, however, it might also be the means by which to trap him for good. King Leo would lead the effort against the monster, while I and a few others would crack open his treasure box and free the Mermares.

While the King had been kindly and affable before, now I could sense there was a new power upon him, a magnitude of strength which resonated in my horn. There was also the change in his countenance, where had been the smile and soft eyes, now was replaced by the glint of unshakable purpose. And I will not lie, I felt a strange sense of comfort to be in the company of royalty again.

We descended first, King Leo and I into the black maw of Squirk’s pit, the Seaquestrian legion forming an elongated spiral with us as the spearhead.

“Pay no heed to any danger I face, friend.” The King said. “The Mermares must be your only concern. We cannot allow the last of them to suffer such a vile ending.”

I nodded, though he had not turned when he spoke. For my part I had always been one to grow more silent the closer the threshold of battle approached. It was so noted during my turn at command during the Agoge, that my teachers Wiglaf and Nordschild prodded me to make sure I had not fallen asleep. But this was no training exercise I was plunging towards. The foe we faced down here would not fight with honor, nor would it yield upon appeal to mercy.

We entered the cavern. I extinguished my light, and even in the abyssal darkness of the deep ocean, somehow passing through the horizon of the pit filled me with a foreboding shiver down my spine. The space turned to be more level after a fair distance and knowing the treasure chamber to be on the floor, split off from the King who proceeded straight on.

“Gods luck to you, My Lord.” I said.

“And to you.” He returned.

A great many followed behind me, I do not recall the precise number, besides to say that it was more than I could count in a glance. Most, logically, fell in behind their King, either to ensure the safety of their beloved monarch, or to seek their own glory in battle with the titan. That no small part of me wished to partake in what would surely be the genesis of a legend passed onto generations of seaponies to come, I cannot deny. But I had my part to play, and if I failed in it, then all would be for naught.

“WHO DARES COME INTO MY LAIR????” Came a voice like thunder in the deep, rolling out from the recess of the cavern to fill every soul with its reverberation. Then came a great trembling all around, the effect of his monstrous limbs being employed to drag his bulk forward to meet the intruders.

“YOU HAVE COME TO YOUR END! YOU WILL NEVER SEE THE LIGHT AGAIN!”

It was just then that a brilliant light of many colors burst into being, an epicenter charging onward, the King himself in his luminous glory. His display was mirrored in kind by those around him, either reflecting his light or emitting their own was hard to discern, but the chain reaction was that of a battleline of stars piercing the darkness like an arrow.

It was by their light that I first caught glimpse of the stone chamber, ahead of me and as implacable as I remembered. “Look out for the sentries.” I was told before disembarking, forewarned about a guardship of crab that served as loyal underlings of Squirk. Trading security for servitude, it was they who guarded the horde while their master slept and kept vigil over his precious collection. I saw them, scuttling about the exterior of the stone box, claws at the ready to defend.

And we were upon them like a gale wind, I, lancing out with a blast of magic that broke their front line and allowed those behind me to sweep past and begin to overwhelm them. Amidst the snapping of claws and pulsations of light, I found the corner of the lid, a slab of stone nearly half my body length. Picking the side of the corner that was the limit of the long side, I put the strength of my body and magic to work driving it aside.

“BWWAAAAHHH!” Squirk bellowed, the cavern trembling. Teeth clenched in my exertion, I opened my eyes to see the tree-like tentacles lash out at the aquatic constellation, coming down straight for King Leo, only to be rebuffed by a protective shield even his power could not crush. The impact caused Leo’s radiance to flare, and Squirk’s arm recoiled like a hoof burned by fire.

More and more of his subjects came to reinforce their king, on all sides, until a wall of stars that spanned the circumference of the cavern was alight, a blockade to pen him in. And where the edge of their light was at limit, I could see the thrashing arms of Squirk roiling furiously at the brightness he despised so much.

With renewed effort I felt the stone at last begin to give way, the steady grinding sound an encouragement to not lax in my strain, that success require only a few more moments of my greatest effort. So it was that I let out my own roar, and hearing it, a number of seaponies clutched their tails to the edge of the slab and joined their own strength to mine. And the slab surrendered the contest at last.

With a final heave, there was the appearance of a gap large enough for one to get through, and immediately I was greeted by the joyful face of Sinann, who lurched upwards and kissed me full in a fever of gratitude. In that moment I thought the victory already won.

But Squirk would not concede just yet. It had been told to me, that once upon a time, when the Great Steeds were still astride the world, that Squirk had been a great ruler of the seas, caretaker and governor of the tide and all things that dwelt within. But in time the Great Beasts of Darkness sought to turn him to their own likeness, saying to him: “Thou art the mighty lord of all the oceans! There is nothing that is beyond your reach! Go then, and take what your heart wills, for none have the power to refuse you!”

And so it was that Squirk began to lust for all the precious things that came to his knowledge, and his once magnificent abode degenerated into a black pit in which he did naught but horde his treasures. The greatest of these plundered prizes, was the Flashstone, said to be formed of pure elemental magic.

It was then, at the moment of our triumph, the tyrant drew forth against King Leo a great red gem and held it before him. What the true power of the Flashstone is, nopony can say, likely not even Squirk himself.

The ruby was presented, and at once the light gleaming off of Leo and his Seaquestrians began to be absorbed into the gem, unable to resist its power. His gleaming yellow eyes shone malevolently as the shadows returned around him, a mocking laugh given through jagged teeth.

I felt Sinann’s fins push me back, and seeing the machination of the beast, we shared a wordless expression before she swam off, Muirgen and Asrai in her wake. Asrai sparing me a wink as she went by.

The Flashstone continued to draw in the light of King Leo and the Seaponies, their wails creating a sorrowful chorus.

“SOON THE LIGHT OF SEAQUESTRIA WILL BE NO MORE!” Laughed Squirk, the outburst interrupted only by the sound of his namesake. “AND THE DARKNESS WILL RULE THE DEPTHS FOREVER!”

The Mermares glanced between one another as they joined side by side, their resolution marshalling. With the protective wall of the seaponies ahead of them, they closed their eyes and began to produce a soft ethereal harmony, one that rose steadily and almost imperceptivity with a six-note reprise. Upon reaching a volume, they too began to glow in like fashion to the seaponies until their radiance outshone all others.

The effect on the others was almost immediate. At once those who had begun to wilt were stiffened, renewed with strength, their light rekindled even brighter. King Leo most of all. And though the Flashstone continued to feed, it seemed that it could not outpace the prowess of the light-bearers. I knew at once what I must do to break this stalemate. Surging upwards, my goal was not hard to discern, though it was obscured by the storm of seaquestrians and Squirk’s minions battling through flashes of light and shadow.

With a nasty sneer, Squirk’s fear and hatred began to rise. Desperate, he summoned a new power from the crystal, a golden crackle beginning to arc across its surface.

An earsplitting KRA-KOOM! Erupted as a bolt of energy lanced out from the gem, streaking through the blockade and attacking the Mermares. The nimbus of their musical invocation shuddered from the impact but held nonetheless as the Flashstone’s lightning wrapped around it like serrated claws and dissipated. The Mermares’s song wavered under the blow for but a moment before continuing.

Squirk’s eyes narrowed, not just from the flare of light but out of a growing dread.

“SING ALL YOU WILL!” He bellowed, the sucking sound of his breathing accenting an extended snarl. “SING TO YOUR DOOM!” The tentacle holding the gem pulled back, the surface of it once more aglow with accumulating eldritch power.

So consumed with greed and hatred was the gargantuan cephalopod, focused steadfastly on the Mermares, imagining shattering the Seaquestrians, and taking them all into his collection, that he lost notice of all else.

So it was that when a comet streaked across his field of view he was quite unprepared to react in time before it was too late. Æclypse collided bodily into the Flashstone in a detonation of magic just as the golden arc was cast, causing it to shoot wild at the ceiling and dislodging several chunks of stone.

Squirk recoiled from the burst of light, pinching his face in reflexive protection. But there was something wrong, he realized. A moment later he opened them again to see that the Flashstone had been knocked from his grip.

“WHAAAT!”

Dashing back to the relative safety of the seaponies, Æclypse held the Flashstone ahead of him in his magic, the gem larger than he himself. Spying his precious treasure being absconded with, Squirk flew into a rage, beating his arms against the side of his cavern until the whole space was filled with a crushing tremor.

“FLEE!” King Leo cried out steeling his nerve in the face of the angry titan. “SEAQUESTRIANS FLEE!” His subjects did as he bid them, the multitudes breaking away from the formation, first from the edges to peel back towards the royal epicenter.

Unbridled fury overcame his reticence and the behemoth Squirk charged forward mouth open to howl, fangs bared.

King Leo however did not move. He remained in place, resolute, awaiting the inevitable.

I reached the Mermares, carrying the gem with me still. They continued to sing despite the peril of the situation, their harmony rising by the second, magnifying themselves and the King’s aura. A thought occurred to me in a heartbeat, not one that would be apparent to anypony else, but in the moment, seemed to have its merit.

I positioned the Flashstone in the center of the Mermares, Asrai and Muirgen on either side, Sinann hovering above. And as I had hoped, the gem reacted to the proximity of the magic, glowing itself with an inner radiance.

Squirk was nearly upon King Leo, a single great arm careening down to smash him.

But a new note from the Mermares emerged, a seventh crescendo was sung. A ring of fiery miasma formed around the Flashstone in response, and much like when it had been commanded by Squirk, it shot forth a bolt of energy. Only this time, there was a rainbow-hued quality to it, which projected itself into King Leo.

The nimbus which emanated from the King became blinding, accompanied by a thunderous, rolling sound like unto an avalanche. The singing of the Mermares ceased, and I too was forced to shy away from the nova. The only thing that rose above it was the bellow of Squirk, the final evidence of him I would ever hear of.

When the light subsided, that was when the ceiling and walls began to crumble. Swiftly, the Mermares went to the side of King Leo, who, exhausted by the effort, was drifting unmoving where he had been. With a sense of urgency they gathered around him and used their bodies to drive him forward towards our escape. Rocks tumbled and bubbles ascended though our retreat, the whole cavern collapsing in on itself. The Flashstone still in my control.

I won’t weary you with the details of our return to Seaquestria but suffice to say that all went without great trouble, and that King Leo regained his senses along the way.

And a great applause went up upon our arrival in the kingdom, a celebration that coursed through the civilization like a tempest wind.

“Squirk the terrible is overthrown!” Many shouted.

“The beast is defeated at last!” I heard also, among other cheers.

Much as I would have liked to stay for some time and enjoy the hospitality of the seaponies, I knew that I could not linger. My destiny lay elsewhere.

And so it was that I presented King Leo with the Flashstone, which he accepted happily, and declared that it would be the prize jewel of all Seaquestria. It was mounted above his throne. The Mermares too did not wish to remain longer than was necessary, for they had their own appointment to keep. They would await outside the city to help bring me back to safety.

“Be it known!” The king declared from his dais to all who could fit into his packed throne room. “That Æclypse Unforgiven, son of Thule, is now and forever, a friend and ally of the Kingdom of Seaquestria!”

He then looked down to me where I stood, or rather floated, before him. “Remember always, my friend, that should you ever call upon the aid of our kind, we will answer!”

“I am honored, your grace.” I said, bowing my head in the Thulian fashion so that my horn might touch the floor. “I will remember always the bravery and heroism of Seaquestria and its noble King.”

King Leo gave me a warm expression as he reclined into his throne. “I bid thee fair travels then friend, may the light of the Great Steeds always be your guide.”

Outside the city, I was found by the Mermares, who each in turn were eager to give me another embrace of thanks.

“The gods have chosen their champion wisely, I think.” Asrai said, wrapping her fins around my barrel.

“And as such, he is kept rather busy.” Chimed Sinann, a teasing scold in her voice.

Asrai released me, but not before darting up to kiss me, then breaking away just as abruptly.

Muirgen smiled. “You are far from the end of your path, wanderer. As we said, there is no doubt that you were meant to find us, and we are bearers of more than a few secrets great and small.”

“So tell us.” Sinann said in a much more somber tone, her kin coming to position beside her. “What secret are the gods sending you after?”

I thought for a moment, hesitant to take full faith in their suppositions to divine purpose. But I could not dispute it. For I had always been faithful to the gods, even when it would have been wise to go against them. And thus, here I was, in this place and time. The product of either happenstance beyond imagining, or the game-piece of minds far beyond my understanding.

“There is a treasure, I was told, to seek out. As my heart’s desire is to set right what I have done, and avenge my wife and son, it is my hope that the gods set me on course to fulfill those purposes. I was bidden that I should seek the shrouded isle of Honalee, where I will find the Cup of Crimson Wonder.”

At my utterance of the phrase, the three of them withheld a gasp in their chests, their faces widening with awe.

“That secret is familiar to us.” Asrai said after a moment. “A very curious request.”

“Knowledge of a treasure so guarded is not easily obtained.” Circling around me, Muirgen chuckled lightly. “No small wonder the gods put the beast Squirk in your path to obtain it!”

Sinann hesitated to speak, taking a moment to respirate (I would pause to use the word ‘breathe’ in this context) before she swallowed and fixed me with a tight but gentle smile. “Let the authority of your quest not be denied, Æclypse. We will tell you where the shrouded isle lies, though another test may await you before you lay hold of your prize.”

I returned her smile with a roughish grin. “I would expect nothing less from the gods.”

Thereupon they revealed to me where I would find Honalee, where King Kismet of old concealed his treasure from the pursuit of an indomitable enemy.

Our final quest together was to return me to the Red Talon, which they were able to discern by soliciting various denizens of the sea. It was not much more than two days since leaving Seaquestria that the ship was in sight, her sails languishing on a calm sunny day. Evidently the winds had elected not to ferry them too far since my departure.

Let the music of the celtic angels sing you to the end of the chapter!

We made our approach carefully, so as to not alert Ruffles, who was currently on watch in the crow’s nest, sneaking up to the stern from underneath. I shared one last embrace with each of them before Asrai and Muirgen dipped back below, and I’m fairly sure Asrai caressed my lower torso on her way.

“May you find your love again.” I said to Sinann.

She smiled sweetly. “And you yours.”

I took the amulet in my magic and lifted it from around my neck, and with an unnerving sensation of movement, I felt my legs once more thresh through the water, and my lungs expand to take in a deep breath of air. I slipped it over her and laid it around her neck. She looked down at it briefly before looking to me once more with tears in her eyes. Sinann leaned forward and laid a kiss on my cheek. Then, she drew away and ventured back into the depths, never for me to see again. I floated there for a few moments, feeling bittersweet about our parting.

To climb back on deck was no difficult task, a necessary skill for each of the stallions aboard. I threw myself over the siderail and lay on the deck as I heard the shouts and gasps from the others begin to spread. So content to simply lay on something solid for a bit and rest, that I cold only smile up at Captain Skorn when his head came into view.

“Have ‘yerself a swim did’ja?” He asked with wary curiosity.

“I know where it is.” I said, a mad grin breaking across my face. “I know where to find the Crimson Treasure!”

And it was just then, that a new wind filled our sails.

---

YEARS BEFORE

The day was mild enough when we broke through the tree line, emerging from the forest path and into more open space. Bjørg and Theodan on either side of me, a lite chittering of birdsong to accompany us. What few meager possessions we could salvage from the cottage was stowed in saddlebags worn by Bjørg and I.

“Do you suppose they’ll have a theater?” I asked my wife, remembering some of the plays my mother would patron for the kingdom.

“Don’t see why they shouldn’t. It’s a town of culture and trade after all.” She said with as much an informed opinion as somepony who’d never been there.

“I’d like to fly ahead and see how much farther it is. We should surely be near to the coast by now.” Bjorn flapped a few times and was in the air. “I’ll return shortly.”

We walked on for a minute before Theodan trotted up to speak. “Father, I know mother does not like to talk about it, but I have a question about those who burned our home.”

“Oh?” My wife had been particularly sore on the subject of the youths, and especially me for letting them go. I admit my explanation for it was not going to be satisfactory for her, so we decided not to bring it up until she could have a clearer mind about it. “What do you wonder, son?”

“I heard mother yelling at you because you let them go. Why did you?”

I looked up so that he could not see my frown, for neither was I very pleased with myself over the matter. In another time and place I would have been much more severe. But, there had been some truth to the mare’s claim.

It must have been the kindledust. There was a jar of it to be found in plain sight. And if one of them had indeed tossed the jar into the hearth and caught flame on some remaining ember, there would indeed be a violent reaction.

There was also the option of appealing to the village leader for justice. But we were outsiders, and thus not under the protection of their laws.

“I did not have the heart for it.” I told him after some contemplation. It was true, if not the whole picture. “Anger burns like a fire, hot, consuming. And like fire, the hotter it burns, the faster it exhausts. I used to be angry often, so much so that eventually I became very weary of it. So it was able to pass rather quickly.

Moreso son, anger, while a necessary emotion, is a creature of whim, unpredictable and dangerous. One cannot make sound decisions while under its persuasion. If I am to mete-out punishment in any proportional sense, then I must be calm and objective when doing so. Neither of which was possible under those circumstances.

In any case Theodan, it would probably have evoked a retaliation from the townsponies and sparked a course of events even worse to deal with.”

He was silent after that for a bit. I could tell he was thinking, trying to wrap his mind around considerations and logistics that a child has no means to grasp.

“Our move was also inevitable.” I continued, giving him something less weighty to contemplate. “We had discussed leaving the cottage for some time, and raise you like a civilized pony instead of a wild animal.”

“Will… Will I have to bathe more often?” He asked, a clear anxiousness to it.

“Yes son. Quite more often in fact.”

“Haaooooo…” Theodan groaned.

After some time my wife returned, fluttering above me to batter my head with feathers. “Just over the bend.” She smiled playfully. “The city is spread out along the coast, and the water goes on until the horizon!”

“Is the ocean very big, mother?” Theodan asked.

“Oh, it’s even bigger than we can imagine, sweetheart.” Bjørg scooped him up in her hooves to hug him against her breast. “And a salty spray is carried on the wind, the gentle roar of the waves to be heard all through the night.”

“I think you will like it here.” I said to him.

“It has a funny name.” My son said rather matter-of-factly.

“It’s an old name. Old names tend to seem more strange than we are used to. “

“How do you say it again?”

“Aquileia.” I said. “They call it Aquileia.”

“I’ll have to get used to living in a neighborhood again.” Gazing onward, Bjørg stifled a nervous wriggle of her lips. “It’s been so long since I moved to the forest…”

“I think you’ll get on just fine.” I told her. “You’re more of a sociable pony than you give yourself credit for.”

She gave me an incredulous look, as if to accuse me of not knowing her at all.

“I could tell it when we first met.” I continued. “A mare like you was never meant to live alone like that.”

She drifted a little closer to me, and I could feel the warmth of her body near to mine. “And I might be still had you not stumbled half-alive to find me.”

“Yes. Strange arc of fate that was.”

We turned to one another and shared a brief kiss. The road before us widened as it rounded a right bend, and just as she said, down a slope and not two miles farther, lay the shining coastal city of Aquileia. I had hoped that there, our lives would finally be changed. As events would show, I was right about that in the worst way possible.

Author's Note:

Overlong update to this story I know, one of many stories who haven't had my commitment for a long while.
In any case I hope the penultimate chapter of "Path of the Unforgiven", was a decent read. Took forever to get out, but it was in the works for several months.

Only one chapter remains!
The Sentencing of Chrysalis!
The Cup of Crimson Wonder!
Twilight confronts Wanderlust!
Musical guest: Black Sabbath!
...And Justice for All!

Thanks to TeaBee-Art for letting me use her former ponysona as Bjorg, I just thought she was cute. Check out her DeviantArt page, and maybe commission her for some artwork! https://www.deviantart.com/teabee-art

At least the final chapter, 16, won't take that long, as I'm already 13,000 words into writing it. After that will be a short epilogue to tease the sequel, which is already well planned-out.

another song that helped inspire this chapter:
For the post-battle celebration of the Seaquestrians

Comments

[miket2255]

I’m so excited to hear you have a sequel! I’m so sad that to read the next part of AEclypse and his family.

[HeatseekerX51]

9900858
I appreciate the enthusiasm! The sequel has had 4 years to come together, a huge difference with Path, which had maybe a couple weeks. So hopefully it'll write a lot better, I think it's a really solid story.