Never Seen

by semillon

RAIN

Captain Silverstream of Her Highness Queen Novo’s Royal Navy stood on the figurehead of her ship. The morning sun was out, and the water was as pristine as her beak after a nice polishing.

Her ship, the Coralvreckan, was a fine, fine ship: a beautiful Barque that once belonged to Grand Admiral Seaspray. When she had first received it, she had slathered it in a fresh coat of burgundy paint with metallic gold trim, and covered the sails in golden glitter. On sunny days, when the ship rode the right wave in the right way, it would catch the sunlight and shine prettier than a sequined dress.

A pirate captain once told her that the Coralvreckan had been coined “the sparkles of death” amongst various criminal circles. It was the peak achievement of her military career.

The Coralvreckan’s figurehead was carved into the shape of her father holding a batch of cupcakes. Silverstream stood on his head, clutching the silver necklace fastened around her neck. Possibly the most important part of her outfit. Other than her smile, of course.

The Amulet of Aurora, part of a set of six important magical cultural artifacts gifted to her and her old friends by Princess Twilight Sparkle upon their graduation from the School of Friendship. The amulet had belonged to a hippogriff legend who once led a fleet of ships out of a storm that lasted for three weeks.

Beneath Silverstream was the smuggling ship that she had apprehended just moments ago. Its movement had been completely halted by Terramar by now; the water glowing light green with tidal magic as he and his crew planted runes on the ship’s belly.

The crew of criminals, a menagerie of abyssinians, mean-looking ponies and a few diamond dogs, looked up at her, glaring as they braced themselves for a fight.

“Attention, criminals!” called Silverstream. “You’ve ignored our requests for a parley twice, so now we’re arresting you. Prepare for a fight, but don’t worry! We won’t hurt you if we can help it.”

She took off her amulet and held it out in front of her like a talisman, and in her mind she asked it to shine.

The Amulet of Aurora shone as bright as it ever had, which was very, very bright. The full force of the northern lights was enough to blind the crew on the deck of the smuggler’s ship.

Gasps arose from the group of criminals, and Silverstream’s crew took that as a cue to move in. Fifteen hippogriffs on either side of her swarmed the smaller ship, their bright pastel feathers and apple red uniforms making them look a little like flowers attacking a giant piece of chocolate. They were unaffected by the Amulet of Aurora—when Silverstream had first been awarded her own crew she immediately made mirrored aviators a mandatory element of the uniform.

Silverstream smiled as she watched the fight play out, squinting through the amulet’s blinding light to make sure she saw everything. She had an amazing view from the figurehead. The fatherhead, more like.

Her crew was winning. Swords were swinging, kicks and bucks were thrown, bad guys were going down like they were being paid to.

And then it was done. She waited a few more moments, to make sure it was completely finished and over with. Silverstream was always a fan of surprises, but she had found out pretty quickly that any surprises that happened while she was out working were bad surprises.

Nothing. The smugglers were tied up, none of her crew were injured, and Terramar’s squad was out of the water.

Everygriff except Silverstream was on the deck now, and they all looked to her. She asked the amulet to stop shining, which it did immediately, and then nodded and flew down to the other ship’s deck, landing hard but not really feeling it.

On cue, her crew lined the smugglers up and stood behind them at attention––a clean lineup of pastel hippogriffs behind earth-toned ponies and a few diamond dogs. Silverstream put her amulet back on and gave each of her crew a grateful nod before she addressed the smugglers in the loudest, happiest voice she could manage.

“Hey, guys! You’ve been caught sailing on hippogriff waters and engaging in illegal activity! Smuggling, specifically, just in case any of you were confused about that. I haven’t really had the chance to look, but if you’re anything like the last three ships we’ve caught, then you’re probably smuggling illegally stolen things, like, um, weird Zebrican knick-knacks that are harmful in the wrong talons...and weapons and stuff. Oh, and you bear the Storm King’s sigil!” Silverstream gestured to the smugglers’ flag. “That’s a big no-no out here. We’re gonna have to take you in and hand you over to the Equestrian Royal Guard, where you’ll be tried for your crimes by your own race. Everything all clear?”

Terramar flew over and landed next to her. “Streamie?”

“One second, Terr-Bear,” she said quickly before turning back to the smugglers. “Okay, so I don’t really know if I’m supposed to read anything to you because every other ship we’ve caught this month has been from, like, different places and races, but I’m pretty sure it won’t do any harm if I read you Equestria’s Mareanda Rights.”

“Silverstream,” Terramar said.

She waved him off as she turned to her first mate, Brine. The bright blue hippogriff looked at her with wide eyes.

“Brine,” she said. “Can you fetch that book on Equestrian law from my quarters?”

Brine continued to stare.

Silverstream turned to look at the rest of the crew, and at the smugglers too. They were all staring.

Terramar stood in front of her. “Silverstream, the amulet is moving all weird.”

She tilted her head, then looked down. The amulet was moving weird. And it was blinking, too! It floated slightly off of her chest, which explained why she didn’t feel it. It inched to the left a little bit, then to the right. Then to the left again, and then it blinked three times, and moved in a strange circular motion.

Silverstream had never understood how the Amulet of Aurora worked, what its original purpose was, or why she could understand what it was saying. All she knew was that the rest of the hippogriffs couldn’t.

She turned to Terramar with a strained smile. “Let’s get these guys loaded onto the Coralvreckan and go north!”

Terramar raised a brow. “But we’re supposed to be heading home. What’s the amulet saying?”

“It’s saying that Gallus is a few days away!” Silverstream said, now smiling so hard that her cheeks hurt, and her eyes were watering. “Not only that, but he needs me! Or, you know, he’s going to. You can never quite tell with this thing. You can never tell with Gallus, either! Heheh. Heh.”

It was a nice night. As nice a night as one could have on the sea, at least. Gallus stepped onto the deck of the Bloody Herring right on the heels of a choppy wave, and the resulting sway caused him to freeze for a moment. The messenger bag, draped around his neck and hanging over his left side, helped him stay balanced.

The deck was plain and not very large, much like the ship. The Bloody Herring was a simple caravel that was just big enough to room and board the crew—which was entirely made up of griffons—and two passengers: Gallus and Late Harvest. Looking around, only a few of the ship’s crew appeared awake, and they were either hard at work or wanting to be left alone.

Gallus strolled to the end of the ship and sat down, looking out at the vast, purple waters that stretched out to the horizon. Several questions nagged at his tired, weary brain: Questions that refused to let him sleep.

Was Gabby okay? Was Gilda? What about Gertrude, for that matter? What happened to them? To Griffonstone?

To him?

He had been trying not to think about whatever had happened to him when he was dragged away from Gabby at the construction site. It was magical, whatever it was. Powerful stuff, too,ut there was something unnatural about it—the kind of thing that Discord might know about. Gallus didn’t know how to feel at the prospect of interacting with the draconequus again, but he definitely wasn’t happy about it.

Past the magic being magic, and having a lot of power behind it, Gallus wasn’t sure what else to make of it. Something had stopped the assault on him, freeing him from wherever he was, from whatever was about to happen to him. He didn’t know much about that, either. A part of him wondered if it was his Element of Harmony, but that was unlikely. He hadn’t tapped into Harmony’s power in years.

The only potential comfort was the Crown of Grover, tucked away in his saddlebags back in his cabin below deck. It had always helped him evade magical tracking in the past. No unicorn could find him as long as it was nearby.

No unicorn, but…

He was knocked out of his thoughts when a griffon with cream and burgundy feathers, and a sleek black lower half, came up beside him. The captain of the ship.

“It’s a pretty night,” she said. “You know, sweetie, you were in a rush earlier.”

“I tossed in a little extra for that,” said Gallus, reaching into his bag to pull out a little black pouch, heavy with bits. “Five hundred for a trouble free trip to Baltimare.”

“Pleasure doing business with you,” said the captain, winking at him before she left his side.

The waves were smooth tonight, and the captain seemed to be in a good mood. Gallus continued staring off into the sea, which looked like a black ocean of silk under the crisp starlight.

After a few minutes, he had a new visitor. Hoofsteps made their way towards him, creeping out from the entrance to the lower deck and sidling up to him as smoothly and quietly as possible.

Late Harvest sat at his side. Gallus didn’t greet her. His eyes were clearly open, so it was obvious that he had noticed her. It wasn’t until he heard the soft clacking of wooden steins against the floor that he turned his head.

Late Harvest wordlessly poured him a pint of mead, and handed it to him.

“Where’d you get that?” He took a sip, finding that it was still cold, and he turned to smile at her. “Thanks.”

“Raided the kitchen,” she said. “Why are you awake?”

“Couldn’t sleep.”

“Is it the cabin?”

“No,” he said. “I just couldn’t sleep. The sea freaks me out.”

“Me too,” said Harvest. “You know, half of my family died at sea.”

Gallus studied her face, attempting to discern whether or not she was telling the truth.

“No one immediate to me,” said Harvest. “Just, you know, most of my extended family on my mom’s side. They were sailors. They’d gone out during a storm because it was a harsh season, and they heard rumors of a certain kind of fish that would come closer to the surface during a storm. I think it was...ten of them that went out? Only two came back, and they died of hypothermia pretty quick after that.”

“That sucks,” said Gallus.

“Yeah, I know.”

“At least it wasn’t your actual family.”

“Yeah,” said Harvest. “My actual family died in an accident that was way freakier than a storm.”

“Oh.” Gallus took a swig of his mead. The honeyed nut flavor cooled and warmed his throat and chest at the same time. “You...wanna talk about it?”

Harvest considered for a moment. Then she said, “Maybe another time.”

“Where are you from, anyway?” Gallus asked. “I don’t know if I asked.”

“Fillydelphia. Kind of. There’s a bunch of farmland between there and Manehattan, and my family’s from the middle of that.”

“Been to Baltimare before?”

“Just once,” said Harvest. “When I hitched a ride on this same fishing boat to get across the water to Griffonstone.”

Gallus clicked his tongue. “Sorry about that, by the way.”

He had given her the rundown of what happened. Three griffons missing, strange goings on, something had come after his friends…

Harvest took it all in stride, like he expected her to. One benefit to living in Equestria was knowing one’s way around an emergency situation, and she didn’t panic or choose not to believe him. She simply shrugged her shoulders and said, ‘Okay. Let’s find a way off this dump.’

Gallus appreciated that. He wouldn’t have known what to do if she had panicked.

“It’s okay. There wasn’t anything important in my wagon anyway,” said Harvest, and there was a tremble to her voice that told Gallus she was lying.

He took another drink. The mead had warmed up somewhat, but that wasn’t a bad thing. It was just...different.

Gallus sighed aloud.

“Something wrong?” asked Harvest.

“Nah,” he said. “I’m just sleepy. Thanks for the drink.”

Gallus tilted his head back and drank the rest of the mead in three long, greedy swallows. He could feel Harvest looking at him, probably with a question on her lips, but he ignored her, left the earth pony to the cold night, and ventured back down below deck.

His cabin, so narrow that his saddlebags scarcely fit inside and so short that he was in constant danger of hitting his head, swayed and bobbed constantly, making his stomach twirl in disoriented agony.

He leapt onto a bed that reeked of mildew and attempted to lie on his back. He gripped the edge of his mattress and squirmed until he could find enough balance to flip himself over. He felt like he was floating near the bottom of the ocean, a slave to the whims of the tides.

The weather had been quite sunny up until fifteen seconds ago.

Then it began to rain, and then it was like there was suddenly a giant dolphin in space, flying upside down, squirting water down onto the ocean through its blowhole.

Silverstream weathered the rain better than most hippogriffs. Rain wasn’t bad! It was wet, sure, but it was reassuring more than anything. Outside of Equestrian borders, where nocreature scheduled the weather, rain was an act of nature that none could influence. Nocreature told the rain what to do, when to stop, when to lighten up. All one had to do in the face of inconvenient rain was to wait it out, and Silverstream loved waiting. There was a thrill to standing underneath the crying sky and keeping a positive attitude the entire time.

If Silverstream could wait this tiny little shower out, she could wait anything out. And besides, she rather liked it when raindrops got between her feathers and tickled her wings and coat; a sentiment not shared by most of her crew. A good half of them with nothing to do were taking shelter below deck. The other half tended to ropes and supplies and vigilantly watched the ocean around them, all of them laconic and frowning.

Silverstream smiled on their behalf.

The hatch leading to the lower decks opened, and from the sound of his meek, subtle steps on the ground, Silverstream could tell that Terramar had come to check on her.

“Streamie?” squeaked her brother’s voice as he approached her from behind. “Hey.”

“Hi,” said Silverstream.

“...You okay?”

Silverstream blew a raspberry. Terramar came into her peripheral vision. She nearly turned to look at him, but decided not to. “Why would you think that I’m not okay? Thanks to the amulet, we get to spend another few days together!”

“We’d be hanging out anyway,” said Terramar. “Skystar’s birthday, remember?”

It was a week away. Silverstream had completely forgotten. Who could blame her?

Their patrol had been an overwhelming success. In just a few days, she had apprehended a career record of four smuggling and/or pirate ships with zero casualties. Silverstream had been hoping for one more, because the number five was a good, lucky number, but then the amulet had sprung its own plans on her. And where in that timeline would Skystar’s birthday have come to her mind?

“Right!” laughed Silverstream. “But now we get to spend extra time together, right?”

Terramar grumbled. “You’ve been acting weird ever since the the amulet went off.”

“You’re just seeing things,” Silverstream said, turning to Terramar for the first time.

He was looking at her with his brows creased. His crest feathers, which normally resembled happy ribbons of verdant seaweed, fell limp across the side of his face, though that may have been due to the rain. But even then, Silverstream could see that his eyes were growing wet, and there was a stuttering to his breathing that set her big sister alarms off.

Always the worrying crybaby. Silverstream inched closer to her brother and wrapped a wing around him. “Okay, look, I’m sorry. Tell me what you think is wrong.”

“You just—” Terramar began. “I don’t want a repeat of what happened when you first came home.”

Silverstreams squeezed him briefly. Then, she stepped away to gaze at the rain falling against the ocean’s surface.

“Silverstream...” Terramar fussed.

“It won’t be like last time,” Silverstream said, a coldness entering her voice as her smile dropped. Her face felt weightless all of a sudden. “I can handle a few days of Gallus. I don’t think he’s going to want to stick around for very long, anyway. He probably doesn’t even know that we’re coming for him.”

“Why do you have to listen to that stupid hunk of metal?” asked Terramar.

“Because I don’t want to miss anything important,” said Silverstream, looking to the other side of the ship, toward the bow.

Terramar turned to look as well, knowing exactly what she was looking at, and who she was thinking of. Lacy streams of rainwater flowed over the figurehead of their father, across his head and his body, and down his eyes.

After a moment, Terramar went to go back inside. “Is there anything you need, or are we looking good for now?”

“It’s fine,” said Silverstream. “We’ll be fine.”

Terramar’s voice wavered as it tried to crystallize into words, but he gave up on speaking and left her to the wet weather.

Silverstream sighed, smiling again. There was nothing like a good talk between siblings.
Minutes later, the rain began to pick up. Where before it felt normal, like the rain was simply falling down from the sky, now the rain seemed to be pelting anything below it. It had become aggressive, and annoying.

It was becoming much harder to smile. But she maintained it nonetheless. She wouldn’t be deterred by a simple act of nature.

With her mind somewhere warm and happy, and her will staying strong and steadfast, Silverstream began to shiver. Little by little, she felt the tight fangs of the cold rain press against the skin under her feathers. She stayed outside, watching the frowns on her crew turn bit by bit into chattering, gritted teeth. She ignored the feeling, fighting to stay positive.

If she could wait out this little bit of rain…

The next morning, Gallus walked into the mess hall, where the briny smell of anchovies on toast lingered heavy in the air. The layout of the room was simple, consisting of a few tables long enough to fill most of the space and a small kitchen area tucked away in the corner. He looked around for Harvest, ignoring the griffon crew who were gathered at the tables near the entrance.

He didn’t feel like talking to any griffons right now. He didn’t feel like forcing himself onto others in an eternal battle of wills. He just wanted to exist, and to not be seen, and to be heard when he wanted to be.

The crew seemed particularly rowdy this morning—though Gallus barely knew them for a night—their boisterous banter ringing out as they devoured their fish stew and soda bread. Gallus walked past them, his tail swishing, making his way to a corner populated by a grumpy-looking Late Harvest, who nibbled at a piece of bread but did not partake in the stew.

“Not much for seafood?” he asked as he sat across from her.

Late Harvest took another bite of her bread before saying, “Tried it once or twice. I want to like it, so I’ll be adaptable, but I can’t stomach it. Guess I’m just a herbivore.”

Gallus chuckled, taking a few bites of his stew. It was warm and hearty, but not the best he’d ever had. Gabby’s was better by far.
His heart sank. He closed his eyes, clearing any thoughts of his friend away by listening to whatever the rest of the crew was saying on the other side of the room.

“Weather’s been shit all year,” said one voice.

“But they’re saying that this storm’ll be really, really bad!” protested another voice, years younger.

“Who’s ‘they’? Your grandma? Pegasi wouldn’t let a storm get to the point where it’d be dangerous for us, idiot.”

Late Harvest cleared her throat, and Gallus focused his attention on her.

“Still waking up?” she asked.

“Kind of,” said Gallus.

“I was asking if you were going to eat your bread.”

Somegriff sat near them, and both Gallus and Late Harvest turned to face the new arrival. A griffon about Gallus’s age, fur beige and feathers a deep burgundy.

She didn’t look very pleased to see them. Gallus’s feathers ruffled slightly, but he maintained his composure.

“Pony,” said the griffon. “Who’s your friend?”

“You can just ask me my name,” said Gallus.

“Don’t want to,” said the other griffon. “Hey. Pony. Answer me.”

Late Harvest raised an eyebrow. “What does it matter?”

“Glow!” said one of the other crew members, all of whom had stood up to watch their conversation.

Glow waved them off, this time turning to Gallus. “You hear about what happened to Gary and Grumble last night?”

Gallus frowned. “Are those names supposed to sound familiar to me?”

Glow chuckled darkly. “Well, Gary’s been on this ship for eighteen years. Eighteen. Barely even left it for more than a day. And last night, while he’s adjusting the ropes, he slips and hits his head hard on the ground. And I mean really hard. He’s in bed right now, resting, but it’s looking bad. We might have to cash out and pay for some fancy unicorn doctor to look after him.

“Grumble, on the other wing, has been here for four years. Half the time I’ve been a crew member. But let me tell you something about Grumble: he’s never been sick. Not once. I saw that guy drink a full cup of piss and lick the deck once and he barely even gagged. In fact, I think he looked a little healthier the next day.

“But guess what happened this morning? Grumble was coughing his fuckin’ brains out. Throwing up and shit. Getting nosebleeds. And it’s barely even fall.”

Harvest shifted uncomfortably in her seat. Gallus kept his eyes on Glow, who continued ranting.

“I’m sure you’ve heard that sailors and fishers are the suspicious type, but c’mon. You can’t tell me that’s not absolutely fuckin’ suspicious. You two are nothin’ but trouble.”

“See, just after we found Grumble some cough syrup, we get something on the transmission crystal,” Glow said. “It was from Griffonstone. They say they’re looking for somegriff dangerous. Didn’t say why...but they want this griffon, whoever he is, to be brought in fast and quietly, and they’ve got a lot of money to offer. And here’s the thing: hey say he’s got blue feathers.”

“Strange,” sighed Gallus. “You think that it’s me they’re looking for?”

“I don’t know. Is it?” asked the griffon.

Gallus took another bite of his stew. “I paid your captain fair and square, and she agreed to take us,” he said, gesturing to himself and Harvest, “to Baltimare, no questions asked. I’m sorry about your friends. Sucks to be them, but it doesn’t sound like they’re dying, and it’s not really my problem anyways. Now can you leave us alone?”

Glow sneered at him. “You think you got any power on this ship, asshole? You think just because you’ve charmed the captain with a couple of bits, you can tell me what to do? I don’t have to do squat, pretty boy. You’re on our ship. We do whatever we want to you. Now get up.”

Gallus’s tail was swishing, and he could feel the feathers on his chest slowly rising up. He raised an eyebrow at Glow. “What are you gonna do? Make me walk the plank?”

“I’m just trying to get us all some much needed bits,” said Glow, sliding closer to him on the bench. “That bounty was for six thousand. Twice as much if you’re brought in alive. That sounds like Griffonian noble money to me. You running from someone?”

Gallus was tempted to tell her. To tell the whole crew. Call it misplaced empathy, though his old professors would protest that there was scarcely such a thing, but he wanted to warn them not to return to Griffonstone. He wanted to tell them that something bad was happening with the nobles, and that he was trying to get help so he could stop it. Maybe she’d understand, or maybe she wouldn’t, but it might be worth a try.

But it wasn’t fair. Gabby and Gertrude and Gilda were left behind, and this stupid, abrasive, greedy bitch was safe, and it wasn’t fair.

“‘Glow’? Is that right?” Gallus scoffed. His frownmelted into a harsh bout of laughter. “I’ll tell you, but first answer me this: what kind of a stupid name is Glow? Were you a hooker before becoming a smelly fishmonger?”

Glow’s beak contorted into a snarl, and Gallus, though maintaining an easy smile, immediately regretted speaking out. He was supposed to be low profile, wasn’t he? What good would starting fights do?

But Glow was already halfway through winding up a punch by the time that thought finished, and he had no choice but to accept the consequences.

He threw his bowl of stew at her, and the ceramic cracked loudly as it shattered against the centre of her face.

“Celestia!” Harvest yelped, scrambling away from the table.

Glow recoiled, yelling from the ceramic shards sticking out of her cheeks and forehead, the cuts on her temple, and the stew in her eyes.

Not an experienced fighter, thought Gallus. But I guess I shouldn’t be looking down on her. I’m not the best either.

Prince Shining Armor did say that he had great instincts, though, and he put them to use immediately. He stood, gripped Glow by her crest feathers with both of his talons, and slammed her face into the table. A croak of agony left her beak, and he let go, leaving the griffon to fall to the floor and begin a slow crawl away from him.

Gallus looked to the crew to announce that he wanted to be left alone, but two other griffons were already moving towards him. He tensed, trying to formulate a plan…

“Gallus!” came Harvest’s voice.

The griffons came at him much faster than he thought possible.

Gallus then remembered that he hadn’t been in a proper fight for years until his scrap with Gilda.

He was rusty. Slow.

Two pairs of talons gripped Gallus’s arms hard, and he was lifted away from the table and thrown hard against the wall. The impact failed to knock the breath out of him, however. He began to get up as soon as the talons let him go, but a strong fist to his jaw brought his body down again. He groaned, and went to fight whoever was on his left, but two rear legs bucked hard against his chest. That succeeded in winding him. A stuttered whistling escaped his beak as he slumped over, trying to grab at his chest.

Somegriff grabbed his arm, and the griffon who had bucked him, a young male colored silver and brown, now faced him. Punches slammed against Gallus’s beak—once, twice, three times—and then Gallus was pushed onto the floor.

His brain was jelly. He could vaguely hear Harvest yelling from nearby. He planted his palms on the floor and tried to push himself up—

Talons sunk into his back. Four pairs of them, and they dug into his flesh and raked hard down his spine. He screamed as the nerves down his back all came to life at once, writhing, spreading agony through his body like a drop of paint diluting in water.

“—the fuck off him!” Harvest yelled from somewhere. Everything sounded fuzzy.

The talons dropped him, and he fell to the ground moaning. He heard steps coming towards him, but the door to the mess hall swung open loudly, and from his place on the floor he saw the Captain of the ship strut in, her youthful features immediately twisting up into a snarl. “What the fuck is going on?”

Glow spoke up. “We’re cashing in on that bounty.”

“No, you’re not,” said the Captain. “Not without my say.”

She walked to Gallus and crouched down by his side. “You still breathing?” she asked.

Gallus could barely look at her. The world was spinning and his skull felt like it had been rolled down a bowling alley and scored a strike. He opened his mouth, but couldn’t speak. He groaned aloud, shutting his eyes tight and pressing his forehead into the floor, attempting to get some feeling of stability back.

His face grew warmer as blood flowed back into his skull, and in time his breathing began to get less shaky.

“Thanks,” he managed.

“Don’t thank me yet. You know, I’m perfectly happy honouring our deal, but at some point you become more trouble than you’re worth. And we could really use that bounty on your head. Buy ourselves some new sails, maybe a paint job...”

Behind her, the crew murmured excitedly.

“I’ll pay you extra,” coughed Gallus, hocking a wad of blood onto the floor. “A thousand bits. How does that sound?”

The Captain shook her head. “Not good enough. You don’t get to stir up this much trouble on my ship and then offer me less than what I can get for turning you in.”

Gallus tried to shake his head, but after the first turn of his cheek gave up. “Once we—ugh—get to Baltimare I’ll arrange for d-double to be given to you. Not double what I paid you...shit, my head...double my bounty. Twelve thousand bits.”

“Uh-huh. And who’s to say you won’t run away from us?” asked the Captain. “As far as I know, you’re running from debt.”

“I’m not,” said Gallus. “I have—” He paused, running his tongue across the roof of his mouth. Every muscle in his body was urging him to vomit, but he choked it down. “Okay. I have five thousand bits on me right now. For a deposit.”

The Captain thought it over, then nodded. “We got ourselves a deal. Leave him alone, guys! There’s work to be done.”

Gallus grunted, sprawling out on the floor as the crew cleared out.

Harvest appeared beside him as soon as the last griffon left. She examined him with a worried look. “You alright?”

“I’ve been worse.”

“We should probably steer clear of the rest of the crew for the remainder of the trip,” Harvest suggested.

Gallus nodded. “My cabin sucks. Let’s hang out in yours.”

Nogriff, and by nogriff, Silverstream meant nogriff, made pine needle and shrimp soup like Terramar did. Her little brother was, by all accounts, one of the best chefs on Mount Aris. Why he’d chosen to join the navy was a complete mystery to her.

She took a sip of the warm bowl of soup in her talons and rolled her shoulders, savoring the way the bitter tang of the pine played with the sweet shrimp. She was in her cabin, in bed, with a heavy blanket around her shoulders—Yakyakistani wool, perfect for thawing out anycreature coming back from hours of being in below freezing temperatures.

Not that Silverstream was freezing. She was just shivering. A lot.

Terramar, who had been watching her drink the soup, scooted closer and wrapped a wing around her, squeezing tight. “Why do you always have to stand in the rain?”

“I-I like the rain,” Silverstream stuttered, shuddering a bit before taking another sip of her soup. It really was delicious. “Have you sent a message back home yet?”

“Yes,” said Terramar. “I doubt Seaspray’s going to be very happy, but considering the amount of smugglers we’ve been catching, I don’t think he’ll be that angry.”

“Good.” Silverstream coughed and leaned into her brother.

Terramar tensed at her touch, but leaned back against her. “Please don’t do that again. The last thing we need is for you to get sick at sea.”

“I’m sure you or Brine could take over fine.”

“But we need our captain,” Terramar said. “You’re the crew’s morale, Streamie. Don’t weaken their morale.”

Silverstream closed her eyes. “I’ve been having a bad month.”

“I noticed,” Terramar whispered. “It’s hard for me, too, but we have to think of Skystar’s birthday as—as Skystar’s birthday. Not as Dad’s...anniversary.”

“I keep thinking about him,” said Silverstream, rubbing the bowl in her talons, feeling the heat emanating from it. “I keep having dreams about finding him.”

Terramar drew her closer, taking the bowl from her so she could hug him and close her eyes, and as the tears dripped from Silverstream’s face she focused on not making a sound. If she let herself sob now, she wouldn’t be able to stop for the rest of the day. And Terramar was right: The crew needed her. They were on a mission.

“I don’t want to see Gallus,” she said. Her voice wobbled.

“I know,” said Terramar. “Don’t worry, I’ll handle him. You have more important things to focus on, anyway. Like Skystar’s party! We made the guest list already, now you just have to send out the invites. You like writing letters, don’t you?”

Silverstream nearly protested, but gave up. “I do.”

Terramar gently pushed her off of him and met her gaze, smiling as wide as he could for her. “Then you should get on that while Brine still has work to do.”

Silverstream smiled back. “Okay. Who should we write to first?”

“Princess Twilight, definitely. Her and Spike.”

She stepped off of the bed and went to her desk, which was littered with all sorts of unfinished letters. Mostly to Ocellus, the only one of her old school friends who wrote back consistently. Silverstream pushed all the letters aside, seeing the top of her mahogany desk for the first time in weeks, and pulled a fresh piece of parchment and ink out of the drawer.

“Terramar, I need a feather.”

After a pained wince, her brother handed one to her.

Silverstream dipped the white feather into the black ink, and pressed it into the parchment.

“Dear Headmare Twilight…”

“I have a book on me,” said Harvest from the bed, after several minutes of silence. Somewhere between breakfast and their initial arrival at Harvest’s cabin, it had begun to rain outside. Steadily, but not aggressively.

“What?” Gallus, who had been curled up on the floor, listening to the rain and trying not to move, turned around and sat up. “Why didn’t you say so? A book could’ve saved me from thinking about how weird Hippogriff funerals are.”

“...Why were you thinking of hippogriff funerals?”

“No reason,” said Gallus. “Well, many reasons. One being that my head is killing me and I’m thinking about how lucky I am to not be dead right now.”

Harvest sighed. “I avoided bringing the book up because it’s a School of Friendship textbook. I have a cousin who’s studying there, and I was curious about what he’s learning, so he lent a few of his books to me.”

“Oh gods,” Gallus groaned. “Nevermind. I’ll go back to my pain.”

“It’s called Magic for Everycreature Under the Sun.”

Gallus’s tail twitched. He kept his expression even. “That one’s not so bad, actually. Want to bring it out and read?”

“Really?”

He rolled his eyes. “It’s not like we have anything else to do.”

Harvest smiled gratefully and reached into her saddlebags, pulling out an immaculate white book with purple and pink trim. She set it in front of her, and after a second look of confirmation to Gallus, began to read.

“Chapter One: Fundamentals. Magic as a concept is a very abstract term. Magic, in the most common sense, refers to the storage and expenditure of energy by objects or creatures which has the potential to suddenly, drastically change the natural course of the world. This isn’t to say that magic is not natural; in fact, magic is found within every living creature. However, magic as a concept applied to the study and applications of Friendship are much different. This is not the magic that unicorns tap into when they cast spells.” Late Harvest’s voice became slower and more confused by the minute, until she turned away from the book to squint at Gallus.

“What?” he asked from his place on the floor. “Too hard for you?”

“I’ve read the journal that the Council of Friendship put out all those years ago detailing their travels,” said Harvest. “But hearing Princess Twilight talk about magic like this is a little...I don’t know. It’s weird.”

“She was a good teacher,” said Gallus.

“Was she?”

He nodded. “Last I checked she still pops by the school when she can to do guest lectures.”

Harvest hummed. “When did you see her last?”

Gallus snorted. “What’s the next paragraph on?”

“Okay then,” Harvest chuckled questioningly. “The list of things to bug you about in the future might have just gotten longer.

“Next paragraph! It may help to know that magic can be construed as a synonym for ‘togetherness’. The Magic of Friendship is friendship. The rest of the Elements of Harmony—Generosity, Laughter, Honesty, Loyalty, Kindness—recognizing those things and applying them all at once, in perfect harmony, is when Magic is made. The Magic of Friendship cannot be accessed without friendship.” Harvest scoffed. “That should be an obvious one.”

“Keep going,” said Gallus.

“Missing your school days?”

“Shut up.”

Harvest flipped the page. “The Magic of Friendship cannot be cast, but it can be felt and channeled. More on this subject will be explained in Chapter 12. For now, let’s try a little experiment! Find a friend and hold your hoof (or claw, talons, etc.) out in front of you. Close your eyes, and focus on what you know about them. Have your friend attempt to lightly slap your hoof, and try to pull away before they can.”

Harvest put the book down, at least ten questions evident in her rich brown eyes, but Gallus already had his talons out and his eyes shut.

“Seriously?” she asked.

“We have at least two more hours till we reach Baltimare, and this was one of my favorite games to play whenever we had to pass the time.”

Harvest laughed dryly. “Alright.”

Gallus smiled. He had met Harvest a day ago on a routine shift at his job. He knew she knew who he was, and that she still respected him. That was good. He respected her, and he liked her company well enough. She wasn’t a normal pony and she didn’t remind him too much of Sandbar. That earned her bonus points with him. Some of her family had died at sea, and some had died some other way. She reminded Gallus of himself.

Something electric travelled through the air. There was a feeling like sandpaper lightly brushing against the top of his knuckles.

Gallus pulled his talons back, feeling the displaced air from Harvest’s swipe blowing against him.

“What the—how?” she gasped. “No way. Your eyes were open.”

Gallus’s smile turned into a grin as he stretched his arms out again. “Again.”

Harvest was an earth pony. A farmer from between Baltimare and Manehattan. She—

The feeling that rubbed over his talon this time was like a ball of crushed velvet. Gallus pulled back just as Harvest swung.

“You’re kidding,” Harvest said. “There has to be a—griffon eyelids are easy to see through or something. You can’t be serious.”

Gallus opened his eyes, drinking in the way that Harvest looked at him with her bottom jaw hanging open, like he was a street magician and he had just pulled her card from his crest feathers.

“Out of a class of twenty-six, only me and one other pony could pull the game off,” said Gallus. “But anycreature can do it. It’s a little taste of what Twilight does when she channels the Elements of Harmony.”

Harvest squinted. “This is bull.”

“It’s magic. It’s everywhere,” Gallus said, gesturing to the room around them. “And it makes for a good party trick for the uninitiated.”

“You’d think that they would have taught us this in school,” Harvest lamented bitterly, climbing down onto the floor. An hour had passed, and it was Gallus’s turn to be on the bed.

With a pained grunt, he lifted himself up and climbed onto the mattress, flopping over on his side to face where he had just been sitting. He watched Harvest circle around a few times before lying on the floor.

“They didn’t teach you about this stuff?” he asked.

“I mean, I know that everycreature has magic, but not that we can all access the same kind. Earth ponies are strong, resistant to sickness and feel a deep connection to the earth. Pegasi move clouds and make weather. Unicorns do everything else.” Harvest waved a hoof around. “But that’s all I ever knew. Well, everything that wasn’t related to farming grapes.”

“Grapes?” Gallus asked.

“Big ones, twice the size of the average. My family would export them to Neighpon for a lot of money.”

“Huh,” said Gallus. “Want me to take over reading?”

Harvest passed him the book, and for the first time in ten years, Gallus had a School of Friendship textbook in his clutches. The binding was strong—built to last a million years—and the cover felt smooth over the tips of his talons. The title was in a beautiful, custom font that Professor Rarity had designed herself. Twilight had insisted on writing the Written and edited by: Twilight Sparkle bit herself. Gallus found himself transfixed by the familiar enthusiasm evident in each stroke.

Twilight’s comments on past report cards flickered through Gallus’s mind: Great student. A wonderful addition to the class. Entertaining input.

Very smart, intelligent comments, even if you don’t always admit it.

It was a genuine honor to be able to have taught you, Gallus. Congratulations on finishing strong. I’m very proud of your achievements. Thank you for being a part of the first graduating class of my school.

Gallus closed his eyes and sighed. “What am I gonna tell her?”

“The princess? Aren’t you friends with her?”

The sound of Harvest’s voice startled Gallus. He had forgotten she was there.

“I mean,” Harvest continued, “everypony who knows her is friends with her. So it would make sense that you would be. You were her guard after all, and she didn’t fire you or anything, right? I don’t remember hearing anything like that.”

Gallus thought about what to say. Should he tell her the truth? Or lie? A little bit of both? Harvest wasn’t quite a friend yet, but she was someone whose company he didn’t mind. She didn’t pry too much, and she wasn’t annoying.

He decided that Harvest was someone he could see himself trusting, and trust was always built on some sort of risk. He decided to tell the truth, even though the details of his resignation from the guard were cleverly hidden, and it pained him to talk about it. He decided that Harvest deserved a bit of truth from him, especially after he forced her to leave Griffonstone out of nowhere.

The boat swayed particularly hard. Gallus held tight to the bed, waiting for the world to stabilize while Harvest cursed from the floor.

“We had a falling out,” he admitted, staring down at the off-white bed sheets “I don’t think Twilight or Spike are gonna be any kind of happy to see me. We didn’t exactly say the nicest things to each other when I left. Griffonstone was supposed to be a place to forget. I was supposed to start over again. But it feels like every time I get away from Equestria it just sucks me back in and—” he shook his head. “Maybe I should’ve gone to Zebrica or something.”

The rain outside had really picked up. It sounded angry. Oppressive. For a long moment, the rain was all that Gallus could hear, and it grew louder and louder in his ears.

“My family kicked me out when I was eighteen,” said Harvest, and suddenly her voice was the only thing that Gallus could hear. He looked up at her, noticing that her ears were down and her eyes were damp. There was a softness to her voice that he had never heard before. “Back when I was in high school I got together with a bad guy, and I stopped caring about farm work. We had a bit of a wilder rebellious phase than most ponies. Ended with me sabotaging my family’s crops and ruining our income for the next four years. So they kicked me out, and they were right to. I’ve been travelling all across the continent looking for a new home since.

“You know,” she said, smiling at him. “Zebrica was on my list in case Griffonstone didn’t work out, and it didn’t work out, so, I’m probably headed there next. Maybe we could go together.”

Gallus swallowed. His chest felt like it was tied up. “Yeah.”

There was a crash.

The world dipped out from underneath them as the ship seemed to descend down. Gallus yelped in surprise as the momentum tossed him into the air. Magic for Everycreature Under the Sun smacked him on the beak before he crashed onto the floor. The entire ship seemed to wobble as it found even purchase once again, and Gallus focused on staying flat until it stopped.

He looked to his right, finding Harvest groaning and holding her head.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Yes,” she answered, moaning softly as she rubbed at the back of her head. “Celestia, I’m dizzy…”

“You must have hit your head,” he said.

“No shit?” she snarked before she found a tender spot, drawing her hoof away from her head with a wince. “Ow. That really hurts…”

“Just stay here,” said Gallus. “I’ll go outside, make sure everything’s fine.”

He helped her onto the bed before he ventured into the hall, where he took off towards the stairs, the sound of the rain now completely overtaking the sound of his own breath. He noticed that the floor was wet. The air seemed damper, more humid. Salt hung heavy on the air.

He got to the stairs and climbed up, and when he threw the door open he saw the chaos that was the main deck.

The crew was in disarray, running back and forth, grabbing ropes and yelling, their words and orders lost to the roar of the menacing gale. His feet trembled with the constant tossing and turning of the deck, and he became acutely aware of the fact that his wings didn’t work. He would be a goner if he fell overboard. Not that anygriff could fly in all this.

The captain was at the bow, an arm wrapped around the base of a mast, holding her firmly to the ground. Gallus could see her beak moving, no doubt barking commands at her crew.

He went to her as fast as he could, his heart racing. Something in the air felt wrong. Everything about this...this sudden storm was like it had been thrown at them. This couldn’t have happened naturally, could it?

With every other step, the ship felt like it was gliding down a frozen ramp, forcing Gallus to crouch down and lower his center of mass, praying briefly to anyone that would listen that he stayed put. Thankfully, he did, and after a few minutes the captain was within earshot.

“What’s going on?” Gallus yelled over the crashing of the rain on the deck.

“Storm!” answered the Captain. Her eyes were wide and full of fear. Like Gabby’s. “We don’t know where it came from!”

“What does that mean?” asked Gallus.

“It was just light rain! Just a little shower!” said the Captain. She made to continue, but the ship dipped slightly, and they each braced themselves for it to even out. When they were stable, she went on. “Something is really fucking wrong with the weather! The water, too! We’re completely off course. The only way I can guarantee the safety of the ship is if we go towards Mount Aris! I don’t even know if—!”

A sound cut through the rain, the wind, the lightning and their voices, slicing through with a disinterested ease. It reminded Gallus of a cicada’s cry, but less organic. An imitation of an insect that was slightly off.

Gallus’s skin crawled.

“What the hell?” demanded the captain.

The floor slipped out from underneath Gallus as the ship plunged, going into free fall. Gallus yelled as he flew towards the edge of the deck, but a crew member crashed into him and sent him into the main mast. His temple smacked hard into the wood, but his arms knew what to do. They wrapped around the mast and held on for dear life.

Horrified screaming and yelping filled Gallus’s ears as several members of the ship’s crew were tossed off the edge by momentum. He watched as they spun in the air, beating their wings hard in a desperate, primal attempt to regain their bearings but ultimately failing underneath the force of the wind. They shot past his field of vision, helpless as paper butterflies.

The ship hit flat water.

Gravity tore Gallus’s arms off the mast, and he hit the ground, landing on his back. His head bloomed with a low, aching pain. Stars clouded his vision.

Water from the impact rained down on him, pouring over his entire face, flooding his sense of smell. Gallus turned over and coughed and snorted. His body hurt. There was a sharpness in his neck. Whiplash, probably.

He whined and tried to stand.

Harvest was still below deck. He had to check on her, or get her out of there so they could steal a lifeboat or something. There was no way this ship was going to survive. They weren’t caught in a storm, they were under attack.

Gallus’s feet found proper footing, and he began walking towards the entrance to the inside of the ship. He slipped constantly. His legs felt new. He felt as if he hadn’t walked for years.

“Shit,” he cursed, spitting out some residual seawater. “Damn it. Damn it! Harvest!”

She didn’t hear him. Couldn’t. He could barely hear the remaining crew, though he registered that they were all in some form of distress. They held onto the ropes of the ship like they were the only things keeping them alive. Maybe they were. Gallus didn’t know any better. All he knew was that he had to get inside if he was going to survive.

He had to get to Harvest.

Gallus got halfway to the stairs when the ship wobbled once more, and he was too weak and too slow to crouch down. He was tossed off his stance, bouncing across the deck and flying over the railing faster than he could think. He closed his eyes—

A talon grabbed one of his. He gasped, gripping it tight as he opened his eyes again.

Glow was holding him over the railing. She looked down at him, surprised as he was.

He saw her hesitate for a moment, but then she began to pull him up, and Gallus laughed hysterically in relief. His hind legs scrambled for purchase as he struggled aboard.

Gallus grunted as he and Glow managed to get him over the railing. He dropped to the floor, exhausted.

Another wave rocked the ship. Gallus felt himself rise into the air, but he was fast enough to grab onto the railing, gripping with the little strength he had left.

Glow was less fortunate. The ship’s next lurch caught her off guard, and Gallus watched helplessly as she was carried off the deck. Her wings tried to open up in the wind, but they were too weak underneath its force. Gallus saw her beak open, and knew that she was screaming, though he couldn’t hear. He reached for her—

A gargantuan wave rose out of the sea, and Glow disappeared into it.

Gallus’s heart pounded. He turned towards the lower deck. He had to get to Harvest. He had to—

He had to do something. He didn’t know what. But he had to figure it out.

The stairs were close. Gallus took another step towards them. They were so close.

That sound, that ethereal cicada’s cry from earlier, rang out, as clear as it was the first time. Gallus couldn’t hear anything else. His brain felt like it was being squeezed.

Something rose out of the sea. Gallus turned—

A tentacle, like that of an octopus or a squid, but as wide as one of the towers of Canterlot Castle, and purple like a bruise, slammed down in front of him.

The deck split in half. Metal and wood screeched through the air as Gallus cried out, tossed from his place on the deck.

Harvest. It hit right where Harvest was. Where she was waiting for him. Where she had stayed because he told her to.

The sea hit Gallus like a brick wall.

The splintered remains of the ship pierced through the water, falling past him. He could barely move. He was too tired. It was all too much.

The water was freezing cold, but he didn’t care.. He made no effort to swim up. Instead, he left himself drift. Confusion and heartbreak ripped at the skin beneath his feathers. He didn’t know what to do.

Gallus closed his eyes. Fighting wasn’t worth it.

He floated deeper down, his muscles slowly relaxing as the pressure in his chest and head rose—his body’s way of demanding that he breathe.

Then he began to move backwards.

Something was tugging at his wings.

Gallus opened his eyes.

There was a griffon, a magnificent tawny feathered and furred male with golden eyes, floating in front of him. He seemed unbothered by the pressure or the water. He looked like he wasn’t even wet.

The mysterious griffon looked at Gallus casually, a hint of discernment in his eyes, as if Gallus was a painting in a museum. Around the griffon’s shoulders was a beautifully tailored burgundy coat, and around his neck was a silver chain with a beautiful red crystal pendant that Gallus could swear he had seen before.

Gallus opened his mouth to speak. Water immediately flooded his throat and lungs.

He reached out towards the griffon, but he was suddenly gone. Gallus struggled, kicking his legs and waving out towards the shards of The Bloody Herring that swam around him. Black circled in on his vision.

The last thing that Gallus thought about was the pain. His chest hurt. The inside of his body felt like it was being washed out.

He took a final breath, swallowing another beakful of icy water, and everything was simply gone.

Smolder,

Please don’t throw this away. Don’t burn it or tear it apart, either.

Princess Skystar’s birthday is coming up, and Queen Novo has asked for the Dragon Lord to be there. You, too.

I want you there as well. I miss you.

Silverstream frowned at the parchment. “This is garbage.”

The door to her cabin opened. She turned to see Terramar’s wet head thrust in. “Silverstream! There’s wreckage floating in the water nearby. Should we check it out?”

“Wreckage?” asked Silverstream, standing up. “Where?”

She donned some outerwear to keep her warm—a ruby red overcoat, gifted to her by Professor Rarity on the day she was promoted to captain—and stepped outside with Terramar. The rain had picked up in the last few minutes. Now it was looking like a storm.

But there was something in the air…

“It’s swimmable,” said Terramar, leading her to the bow.

Around them, the crew of the Coralvreckan flew back and forth, busy with a million different things.

“Hold steady!” yelled Brine from halfway up a mast. “We’ve weathered worse!”

When they got to the bow, Terramar pointed her west, where she saw pieces of a broken ship floating in the black water.

“Any survivors?” asked Silverstream.

“Don’t know yet. Can I take a team to see?”

“Yeah,” said Silverstream. “Hurry.”

She waited in the rain and, feeling it tickle her head, smiled at the sensation. The waves coming at the ship didn’t seem dangerous, just a little choppy.

The minutes passed quickly. She watched Terramar and his diving team swim around, illuminated by the fluorescent purple light coming off of their magically enchanted uniforms. Hopefully, if there were any survivors, they could help. Or at least return the dead back to their rightful homes.

Silverstream danced in place, swaying gently from side to side. She wondered how long it would take for them to get to Griffonstone. She wondered if Gallus would let her stay with him. Last she heard, he and Gabby and Gilda were all living together.

Staying there could be fun. It’d be like a sleepover. Or something.

That was assuming Gallus would even speak to her.

She smiled harder, struggling against her own cheeks.

The lights in the water flashed yellow, signalling that they found someone, and medical assistance was needed.

Silverstream turned to look up at Brine, who was waiting for permission, and she nodded.

Terramar and his team emerged, and as they were lifted from the water, Silverstream spotted the survivors of the wreck. There were a few griffons that looked like they had been caught in a whirlpool; there was an earth pony, carried by one of Terramar’s crew, a hippogriff named Seasalt; and in Terramar’s arms was the wet, blue body of a griffon with broken wings.

Silverstream stopped smiling.

Author's Note:

Very thankful to Miller Minus and Jack of a Few Trades for their editing

Comments

[Scyphi]

Oh darn. I was hoping that what those smugglers Silverstream caught were smuggling would be Gallus. Because, y'know, that'd be a heck of a set-up for an unexpected reunion. Plus, it'd be a good way for him to get into the country all under-the-radar like. But I guess there is that whole legality issue to contend with...

Though, all things considered, it might not have made a difference in the end. Clearly someone...or I suppose something...is out to get him.

[Great White Prime]

This will be interesting

[Jack of a Few Trades]

I am both excited and terrified of the reunion. Can't wait for more!

[An-Twan Star]

You've really have my attention now. Lovecraftian horror isn't something I'm well versed in admittedly but this feels like it fits that billing quite well. I'm just itching to see how the other characters are faring in this, erm, future? and how the HHQNRN (Hippogriff Navy) deals with that Leviathan.

[Restrained Fury]

I'm not much for commenting, rarely do, but I am because I can't like this story enough. It's great, mysterious and lovecraftian. But I like the characterization of everyone even more. This is becoming one of my favorites very quickly.

[Parker]

This continues to be really, really good. I loved Silver's seemingly unintentionally-forced optimism. The part about the textbook, and especially the direct text as read from it was incredibly well done: I forgot for more than a few moments that you didn't have anything you were actually quoting from. You really captured the voice of Twilight via textbook.

...and she didn’t remind him too much of Sandbar. That earned her bonus points with him.

that's fine. This isn't tragic at all.

The supernatural threaded through this is really enticing. The threatening (the storm, the sunken horror) and the beneficial (the amulet, the magic in every creature) create a very interesting balance to the world you're crafting.

So Glad you're back to publishing more of this.