Changing Ways

by Comma Typer

Postmortem in the Ocean

A picture is worth a thousand words, isn’t it?

Here, a picture of a hippogriff family: a father, a mother, a son, a daughter. They were flying past fluffy clouds and waving for the camera which did not capture any motion blur at all.

There, a picture of a seapony family: a father, a mother, a son, a daughter. They were swimming past reefs and seaweeds and waving for the camera which did not suffer any loss of quality from being underwater.

Finally, a picture of a family both hippogriff and seapony. They were standing by the beach, father and son on the sand with their wings, mother and daughter in the water with their fins. They held each others’ claws and fins, smiling for the camera.

A wonderful family.

Those pictures stood on a table under a hanging clock which read ten in the evening. Despite being underwater, the clock operated normally, the second hand ticking.

The seaponies’ residence made ordinary land houses appear outdated. The walls were made up of modules consisting of a glass-like substance that gave anyone inside a view of Seaquestria around them with their subterranean lanterns giving dingy light to a dull kingdom—cabinets made up of durable sand, tables carved from corals, not to mention that the floor was only useful for furniture since the inhabitants did not walk on them so the carpets were rendered useless.

A sigh from a restless Silverstream floating above the floor in her seapony form, complete with matching fins and gills, necklace still on her, feeling the water around her and course through.

A tap on her shoulder and she turned to see a white seapony, scratching his blue-end fins.

“Did you tell Mom yet?” Terramar asked, poignant. His eyes were red.

“N-No...and I don’t want to.” She looked sad, cheeks puffy. “What am I supposed to tell her? I can’t say Dad’s dead!”

“But we’re not gonna lie to her, are we?”

Silverstream looked down to the floor. “No.”

He looked at the bed made up of sand and shells. There, Ocean Flow, with yellow scales and long purple mane-like fins on her head covering almost half of her face—she was snoring soundly, bubbles coming out of her mouth.

“It’s going to be so hard to tell her, though,” Silverstream whispered close to her brother’s ear. “What if she gets mad at us?”

“She knows we won’t be joking about something so grave,” Terramar replied, glancing at their sleeping mother. “She'd want to know the details—how did it happen, why did it happen, who’s responsible...everything!”

“And she’ll bring the matter up to Novo and Seapsray will get punished,” she said as if out of rote.

Then, Silverstream faced one of the walls and looked out.

By the murky seabed, various seaponies of different colors and builds chatted about, some eating seaweed as they conversed. However, even underwater, a sense of caution pervaded: armored guards swam their way around Seaquestria, civilians eyed this or that seapony they had deemed suspicious, and hippogriffs who became seaponies to visit were asked five or ten questions by border patrol which had a dozen guards armed with spears.

“We have to tell her,” Terramar said, swimming to his sibling’s side. “We can’t hide this forever. She’ll know something’s up.”

Silverstream sighed, looked at him with pained eyes and a sorry pout. “If only this could be—“ sniffed “—easy. It’s not like I lost my stuff back at the mountain.”

Terramar pulled her close. “You and I know he’s much more than that.”

Both siblings looked outside, looked together.

Yawning from behind.

They gasped at each other, covering their mouths at the same time, shocked.

“What’re we gonna do?” Silverstream rambled in hurried murmurs. “There’s no plan, I didn’t memorize—“

“Just do it naturally,” Terramar said, passing by the table and some shelves as he flowed his way to the bed. “You stay there. I’ll be the one to break the news.”

Silverstream nodded, watching him approach their mother.

Ocean Flow stretched her mouth open, drew her arms high, smacking her lips in her weariness. Eyes baggy and barely open, and she saw Terramar by the bed, sporting a toothy smile. “Baby, you’re home early! Did they give you an early leave?”

She stood up—or, more clearly, straightened herself up and floated above the floor—and gave her son a tight hug, tight enough to make Terramar want to pry himself out of that loving embrace.

“Th-Thanks, M-Mom!” Terramar managed to eke out before getting out of the hug.

“Honey, you look like you’ve had an awful day at work. Did you hit yourself and—“ gasped and shoved him to the side “—Silverstream? Is that you? I thought you're with your father back in Castnet? Is something wrong?”

Terramar blinked, then cringed at Silverstream, mouthing to her, “You’re dead!”

Silverstream gulped. “Uh...you mean D-Dad?”

Ocean Flow put her fins on her hips. “Of course, I meant your Dad.” She raised a brow and looked at the both of them with maternal concern. “What’s going on?”

Terramar raised his fin. “Um, what’s going on is that...there’s, uh...Dad’s going to, um—“

“I can’t take it anymore!” Silverstream screamed and banged herself on the wall. “Dad’s dead!”

Ocean Flow looked dazed, a fin on her chest. “Wh-What did you say?!”

---

Half an hour later, Ocean Flow was sitting at the table, staring blank at the distance past her children; sitting there, fins on the table.

Blinked. Blinked. She blinked.

Silverstream sniffling, nose running. Terramar with his own tears which became bubbles in the water, eyes redder still.

Ocean Flow watched her children in awe. “I...I never thought he’d die like that.” A pause, voice straining. “Your father was a—“ sniffed “—was a good hippogriff...and a good seapony. Charming yet kind, bold and caring...he was everything I ever dreamed of...and, just like that, he’s...gone?”

Terramar nodded beside Silverstream and her box of waterproof tissues which she blew on every once in a while, reduced to a blubbering mess.

“It’s gotten so bad, they’re killing innocents,” Ocean Flow muttered, trying to embolden herself. “I have to talk to Novo about this.”

Terramar wiped his forehead. “We were wondering if you were gonna—“

Ocean Flow placed a fin on his lips and stood up. “But first...a favor for all of us.”

Terramar blinked, leaning closer. “Anything, Mom.”

She sighed, turning back towards the submerged waterscape, seeing those guards drift about. “I know it won’t be easy, but could you help me get your father’s dead body?” Turning to a weeping Silverstream, she snapped her awake from her crying by just floating to her and said: “You stay here and don’t go out. If they ask why we’re gone, tell them we’re out to collect shells.”

Silverstream took some time to process the words. Then, she nodded and returned to blowing her nose and weeping.

Ocean Flow patted Terramar on the back, headed towards the door. “We don’t have much time.”

---

The clock ticked to midnight. It did not ring any bells; it was a simple, ordinary clock.

Outside, she saw some of the hanging houses outside dim their lights, plunging Seaquestria into a gloomy cavern, becoming pitch black save for some lanterns here and there.

Silverstream floated by the door. She leaned her weight on the locked door, squishing some of her face. Through it, she could barely see the guards though their armor shone under the lights. Behind them was a huge group of more seaponies, looking around with scared eyes and holding on to each other’s arms, whispering and murmuring.

She could see one crying.

Silverstream looked at her open fin for a moment and opened the door halfway. She poked her ear out and listened in.

“Sirs, I beg you...at least let me back up there this night! I need to contact anyone—“

“Sorry, Raspberry Beret,” the guard said to the reddish seapony, “but you have to follow the queen’s orders like the rest of us. No one gets in, no one gets out until six o’ clock in the morning sharp. No minute earlier, no minute later.”

“They could get out a minute later,” the guard beside him remarked, prodding him with the blunt end of his spear. “That's six o’ one. The queen’s never gotten angry when we leave at six o’ one.”

“I’m trying to make a point here!” the first guard yelled at his partner. With a groan, he turned back to Raspberry Beret and said: “This is for your safety. There could be changelings flying outside at night and we don’t want you to be captured by any of them.”

“But, I’ve never lived underwater before!” Beret whined.

“Then why are you here?!” the guard shouted. “You’re here for refuge, no? Then you gotta stay safe and value your life by following orders!”

Beret nodded, scared. “Y-Yes….”

Silverstream closed the door. “Another batch of evacuees,” she said in a dreadful whisper. “Poor ponies. How long are they gonna stay here without their sun and moon?”

Then, she stopped, frozen in place.

“How long are we gonna live without Dad?”

---

It was seven in the morning. Since it was a Saturday, Silverstream stayed at home, watching the activity bustle around underneath the house, watching through the door. She held a bag of crunchy seaweed chips and crammed her mouth with them. With that done, she threw it into a pile of empty chip bags and got another one, stuffing herself with an overabundance of those salty and savory chips.

Outside, she could see a lot of seaponies gathered by the guards. The chief guard, the one with the biggest helmet, swam by each of the refugees, asking a few questions and having his assistant jot the answers and details down on waterproof notepads with squids floating beside him if ever he ran out of ink for his quill.

After seeing enough of this recording and questioning, she went to the table and sat down there. The plates were set but no food had been prepared for breakfast. Instead, what she had to content herself with was more crunchy seaweed chips and some crabsticks.

She ate, filling her mouth with food as fast as she could and then broke down into another bout of tears, crying on the floor and banging the table, shouting, “Why?! Why, why, why, why?!”

Heaving in, heaving out. She grabbed a cup and turned it upside-down and nothing came out and she screamed at it, eyes growing redder and redder.

“Dad!” Sniffed, wiped her nose. “Why did you have to leave? Why did they have to kill you?! You didn’t do a-anything...a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a…anything!” She gripped the cup and held it close to her head, hugging it. “You were funny, you were strong, you were fast...zoomed in, zipped out, beating everyone at the games and you took us out for lunches, dinners, trips around...” sniffed, “a-and, you always stood to defend us when we were in help and y-you taught us and—“ banged the cup on the table.

Cracking it.

“Why?!” she shouted, grasping for the table. “I didn’t do anything...you didn’t do anything, a-and...you were always good! You were so good, so upright, how could they possibly mistake you for a changeling spy?! It’s not right, it’s never right! I need you, we all need you!”

The door creaked open.

Silverstream turned around, saw Ocean Flow and Terramar swimming back inside.

They were holding the limp corpse of Sky Beak, still in his hippogriff form complete with his blue feathers.

“I notified my sister,” Ocean Flow said, sober in words. “We will grieve over him for the time that remains...because he will be buried at eight tonight. There will be a—“ sniffed “—funeral, honoring him for the great person he was until the very e-end.”

Terramar wiped his eyes, still red.

Silverstream looked at them.

All of them had red eyes.

---

And so, minutes before eight in the evening, many seaponies had assembled around the biggest house in the area which hung over the center of the underwater kingdom. They all floated in rows, whispering to each other. Over there floated a portrait of the deceased, his infectious smile complementing his rather brave face which exuded confidence, a go-getter point of view towards everything he had encountered in life.

In attendance was, of course, the family, but there were also several guards, the evacuees, and the royals themselves: Queen Novo and Princess Skystar, both of which were seated beside the family.

Novo, a respledent seapony complete with a crown on her head and some eye makeup, let Ocean Flow cry on her head, patting her. “It’s going to be OK, it’s going to be OK. He didn’t die in vain.”

Skystar, the tip of her mane lighting the faces of her mourning cousins, said nothing for she cried with them, drowning in the bubbles of tears.

All in attendance, all those seaponies, watched the family in front crying, hearing them sob.

Hollow sounds. Silence but for their crying as a seapony wearing a black suit solemnly went up the aisle, went up to the dead body on the floating table before them all.

None of them were looking at Sky Beak’s smiling portrait. They were looking at his lifeless corpse and his living family.

His crying family.

---

It was midnight and the beach was occupied by a swarming mass of ponies held together by several hippogriffs. Over there, past the beach, was Mount Aris, not really a mountain as it looked like a long vertical stretch of land partially wrapped in a huge robe of stone, and, since it was nighttime, it was decorated with yellow and orange dots indicating lanterns from those homes. Roars and shouts proliferated the beach, one yelling for her foals to look at her and to tell them that they were safe with her. Guards wielded their spears, holding any potential stragglers off and warning any would-be troublemaker that they would be met with the necessary force to stop them.

Faint lights lit up a narrow part of the shore where some seaponies floated while holding their own brand of lanterns, observing the mass before them.

Then, one of the chief hippogriff guards spread his wings and landed before the crowd of rowdy ponies.

He ended their noise with a deafening screech that echoed throughout.

All stopped their arguing and shuffling, all looked at him.

His figure shone strangely by the lights. They could only see his outline and scarcely more.

“Ponies of Equestria and other creatures!” he shouted in a rich voice. “We want you to move about in an orderly fashion so we can settle in as quickly as possible.”

They were silent as they stood still, watching the guard with interest.

“I’m sure the others explained it to you before, but just in case any of you missed it: We will be turning all of you into seaponies and you will spend your first night underwater in Seaquestria. There, you will be taken to your accommodations and you’ll be given enough food for the night—and don’t worry about getting thirsty!”

This elicited several laughs from the audience which contrasted the general silence of everyone else.

“We’ll do this by having some ponies go to the seaponies over here—“ flapped his wings, hovered and pointed at the seaponies in question who waved their fins and lanterns at them “—and they’ll hold their fins. The rest of you hold their hooves or the hooves of anyone who’s holding the hooves of the ponies holding the seaponies.” He looked up, thinking. “That may sound confusing, but we're running out of time.” He pointed at the ponies in front. “You, go over there and hold their fins!”

The seaponies swam closer to the shore and held out their fins to hold.

Ten or so ponies walked there and held their fins, one fin per pony. The other seaponies merely watched, taking out their spears they were hiding under the water.

“Now,” the guard continued by shouting, “we want all of you to hold someone else’s hooves...or appendages! Make sure that you’re connected to a seapony somehow!”

That was what the ponies did, or tried to do. The whole process was slow despite being guided by the numerous guards ordering orders and counter-orders which confused more than a few into bumping each other on accident.

A bit far away, by some flat rock formations, sat Silverstream and Terramar, accompanied by Smolder. They all watched the mass try to hold hooves, making sure no one was left behind.

“Still another,” Terramar noted. “Good thing not everyone wants to stay a seapony.” He sighed, looking upon the tall mountain. “The Harmonizing Heights will have to be cleared for them, though, and I’m going to miss that place.”

“Everyone’s going to miss it,” Silverstream said, voice still choked by the tears from before, “but we can have it back soon.”

“What if it won’t be soon?” Smolder asked. “If the changelings get here, there won’t be any heights to harmonize with.”

“It’s a lot better than staying in the Dragon Lands,” Silverstream commented.

Smolder glared at her. “You take that back!”

“I won’t take it back!” was her mean reply.

“I thought you were the nice one!” Smolder said, planting her feet on the stony ground. She snorted, smoke gushing out of her nostrils.

Terramar flew in between them. “Stop! This isn’t going to help at all!”

They stopped, obeying Terramar’s words.

He lowered his head. “All we can do is wait here and defend whatever land we have left. Take in the refugees, help them get used to life here, and train them if they still don’t know how to fight. As long as there’s one of us here, fighting for freedom, then we can take on anything.”

“If only that could actually do something,” Smolder cracked. “Easier said than done.”

“Why don’t you do something, then?!” Silverstream shouted.

Terramar looked at her seriously. “Sis’, stop. Nothing good’s gonna happen if you let your emotions take you over.”

Silverstream breathed in, breathed out.

“Think about something else,” Terramar said. “We can’t grieve much longer. We have a home to protect.”

They looked at each other with silent looks and, with nods, agreed to go back to watching the evacuees on the beach.

“Alright, we need everyone to move into the water!” the chief guard yelled as the ponies trotted to the water. “Yes, that’s good! Don’t go too far! That’s it, that’s it!...”

---

Miles away from Seaquestria and Mount Aris but still on Basalt Beach, Grubber took out his last granola bar and scarfed it on the rocks. Before him crashed the waves, threatening to drag him into an early death. However, he was unfazed at this fatal prospect and decided to inch his way towards the edge of the craggy cliff.

“It can’t be that long,” Grubber said, rubbing his hands. “If you were able to swim your way to the other side once, then you can do it again and earn fame! Yes, fame! Then, I’ll become king of the island and...and….”

He sat down on the cliff.

“Huh. I guess I never thought this far. What will I do once I become king? Looks like it’s a job for trail mix—“

And realized that he ran out of trail mix.

Grubber sighed and looked on the dark sea foaming white. “Eh. I’ll find something to do.”