Tales of an Equestrian Mare

by Durandal

Chapter 19

* * *

They remained on the island for as long as they needed, and were there to bear witness to its miraculous transformation. Within hours of the beast’s death, the seeds scattered by the suddenly blooming flowers had spread all across the island, and everywhere they touched new plants grew, and trees and grasses flourished, and the island became a paradise of warmth and sunlight, completely oblivious to the bone freezing temperatures and eternal darkness that surrounded it on all sides.

They took what timber they needed, finding only the best trunks and taking no more than they required. A great pulley system was rigged, and the freshly cut wood lowered down into the sea, ready to be hauled aboard and set into place. Before long, repairs were well underway, and Green Wind was preparing to depart.

There had been more heavy drinking, in the hours following the expeditionary party’s return to the ship. The cows, it seemed, loved a good life-and-death struggle, and the story of their battle against the strange beasts was well received, especially when it was revealed that the island was probably magic, and the things they had thought were in some way other-worldly. The cows spared no detail, and again, Hearthfire didn’t quite know how much of what they claimed had happened after she fled was really to be believed. For her part, she didn’t feel much like celebrating. Once her wounds were cleaned and dressed, she found herself drifting away from the others, secluding herself in the bow as the impromptu party, and then the repair work, went on around her. She was preoccupied with nagging questions and lingering fears; the strange events that had taken place on the island gnawed at her, and no one who had been there seemed to have anything close to an explanation.

She approached Audir, who was cheerfully directing the repair work from amidships, heedless of her own injuries. Audir not only seemed unfazed by what had happened, she seemed to have drawn fresh vitality from it, as if she were still running on battle adrenaline days after it should have faded.

“Audir, would it be possible to take Green Wind around the island once more before we leave? I want to check something.” When pressed, she couldn’t find the words to articulate exactly what she was expecting to find, but she felt sure that there was something out there to be seen. Bits and pieces, things she had seen or sensed while on the island, were trying to tell her something; that was all she could say.

“It’s the pattern on the rocks,” she realised, as the repairs reached completion. The revelation came as she was helping finish fix the tatters of the sail into a useable whole, and she almost stabbed herself with the needle as she stopped paying attention.

“What was that?” Tofa asked, looking up from his own darning.

“The island shook, but nothing about it seemed volcanic, apart from the warmth. And those rock formations seemed so strange. It’s like a tortoise’s shell! All those different shaped bits fitting together, and the whole thing is a huge dome.”

“What’s a tortoise?”

“Huh? Do you have sea turtles this far north? A tortoise is sort of like a sea turtle, but on... land... Oh.”

They rowed for half an hour clockwise around the island before the first flipper breached the water off the starboard bow, lit from above by the rays of sunshine spilling over the edge of the island into the pitch black northern night. There was momentary chaos as all the rowers craned to look, those on the port bank shipping their oars and standing to see over the heads of their fellows. The limb was bigger than the boat, and rose almost clear out of the water, trailing spray as it arced through the air to slide with hardly a splash back into the freezing ocean.

Once Audir had bellowed the crew back to their oars, it was close to another full half hour before they reached the head. It reared from the water as they approached, dozens of meters long and eyeing them cautiously with one enormous, inky black eye. It radiated intelligence, but how to go about communicating, Hearthfire had no idea. Was it the prey of the wolves? Had the cows’ arrival inadvertently saved it from a hunt? Was it as grateful to them as she was to it? She didn’t doubt that it had saved her from death; as the nightmare-toothed jaws had prepared to close around her head, it had intentionally moved to help her.

In the end, she had no idea how to ask the questions of it, or if it would be able to answer, and those enormous eyes watched passively as they passed in front of it, and beyond it, and finally broke away to make for open waters.

* * *

It was well after dark, and the camp fire was settling down to ruby embers. Most of the ponies and camels were long since asleep, and Posy was nodding off beside Cas on Hearthfire’s blanket heap. Even Dima was yawning demurely behind her hoof as she finished translating. Sandwhistler and Cloud Flower were lying on their backs, looking up at the stars, but both were wide awake.

“Did you ever find out? What the turtle was doing there? What was going on?” Sandwhistler asked after a while.

“Not until years later, but that’s a whole different story...”

Posy mumbled something; seemed she hadn’t been completely asleep.

“She says that you forgot about the shiny thing. In the brambles,” Dima supplied.

“Oh, that. I picked it up. It was a little piece of cut crystal, or at least, that was what it looked like. Hmmm...”

She rummaged for the Box again, and dug around. It was an inch and a half long, and it shone with a pale green-blue light once she unwrapped it from the hoofkerchief she kept it in. It was cold against her hoof, much colder than even the chill desert evening.

“There. It glowed brighter and colder than that when I first found it, but it’s faded over the years. Still kind of pretty, though, in a harsh way.”

“Do you have any more stories about the north? Did you see the edge of the world? Or more monsters?” Dima translated quickly, trying to keep up with the rush of questions as the two pegasus colts passed the shard from one to another.

“I do, but none I care to tell. I have been to the edge of the world, and seen far more terrifying monsters that I did on that island, but that was the only story I have with a happy ending. We were lucky not to lose anyone, very lucky, and that luck did not hold the entire voyage.”

“I am sorry to hear that.”
“Not all journeys are adventures, and not all adventures end well. It was a long time ago, now,” Hearthfire shrugged, then shook her mane, “Oh! I didn’t mean to bring doom and gloom down on us all. Just a mare thinking aloud. I expect their mother will be out looking for them soon.”

“Yes, and she’ll have your head on a stick if she catches them hanging around here,” Dima chuckled, “Come on, little ponies! Up, up!”

As she shooed them away, and Hearthfire woke Cas up to extract the blankets from beneath her, Hearthfire couldn’t help but let her mind wander to grim places. She only told the stories of adventures that turned out alright in the end; the others she kept to herself, not forgotten, but private. There were at least as many private memories as there were ones she was willing to share, and even from those she did tell, many were less than pleasant, even if they did make for interesting stories.

Maybe Posy’s mother was right, and she was a magnet for trouble. How many stories did she have in her repertoire, where she visited a country or a city, and nothing went wrong? That’s stupid: there were plenty, but most weren’t worth the re-telling, unless the audience had a particular interest in the place itself. That was all.

“Well, goodnight, Cas. Maybe I’ll tell a story about you, next time, huh?” Cas made a pleased noise, stretched briefly, preened some more fluff into her coat to trap more heat, and crawled into the mound of blankets beside Hearthfire. Hearthfire yawned, tugged the blankets more closely around them, and let herself drift slowly off to the crackle of the fire’s embers.

“The one with the griffons, hmm, Cas...?”

* * *

The next day, they reached an oasis. There was some discussion amongst the family heads of the tribe as to whether it would have dried up or not, but while the water level was lower than it should be, there was still enough for the caravan to refill its supplies, and for some washing to be done.

Cas, a cat who had proven time and again that she had no trouble with water, was in love; after days in the dry, dusty heat with little water to spare, just being able to dip in and go for a swim was a relief. Hearthfire joined the younger ponies in splashing about in the shallow pond, and when they tired of that, they went and lazed in the shadow of the leafy trees that clustered around the water source, while they waited for the water barrels to be filled and hoisted back onto the wagons.

Between being pestered by the fillies and colts, she managed to find time for some more studying, though she wasn’t convinced it was all sinking in. The heat of the day made concentration waver, and while the shade was a refreshing escape compared to the open ground, it was still hot enough to feel like an oven. She quickly gave up on reading, and wandered off to look for Sandborne.

“How much further is it until the next town?”

“Two days, but I doubt you will find what you need there... even if it can be found anywhere at all.”

“This place isn’t big enough?”

“Indeed. I honestly do not know if anyone can rescue your plane. You would need several unicorns, probably, to lift it, and even then how will you transport it to somewhere it can take off? You will not be able to afford it. I think it is best for you if you give up, and just focus on making your way home in one piece.”

“I have one or two ideas, but whether I can get the materials I need all the way out here... I’ll probably need to get to a large city to find everything.”

“Two weeks, minimum. If everything goes smoothly, and it never does, we will be at the greatest bazaar in the whole region in two weeks. If you can’t find what you need there, you won’t find it anywhere on the continent.”