The Trinity of Moons: Mending Shards

by Cloud Ring

Interlude 6: Offering

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Old sagged boards croaked under hooves, dark stagnant water splashed into the cracks. The gray-maned captain glanced sideways at Orange, snorted, and pulled a short, bronze-lidded smoking pipe from his mouth, “You're late, wet hooves!"

Orange Tide knew the captain was both lying and aware that she saw him through. But there must be discipline, "Sorry, Uncle Breeze."

The captain did not answer. He was gloomy — the business of the company got worse every round. Modern food synthesizers, ugh! Fuel oil should be poured into tanks, not eaten. Reimplants, too — a Metropolian fad, for sure. In White Holly, his home settlement, everypony got a reimplant pet in just a few rounds. Infrequent Metropolian tourists were saying this is an old and respectable scientific advancement. Breeze remained unconvinced. He knew that sometimes things or even ponies that, supposedly, were there for a really long time, in fact were not. In truth, they somehow hijacked the place to settle in and should have no actual right to be.

Instead of a fishing flotilla, the last decrepit scow went out into Pearl Scattering Bay dotted with small islets. Others, with gutted engines, had long found a resting place in the snowed sand by the pier. If something happened, there was nopony to help. Instead of three skillful earth ponies in his crew, a single niece. A unicorn, to add insult to injury. Who goes out to sea like that?

And her name — it was like she had chosen it to be the worst possible thing she could. Well, that was a stretch but not too far.

The patched-up engine, ancient like himself, snorted loudly, stirred up the muck from the bay's floor and purred. Breeze's mood slowly rose from the bottom too. The machine worked, and everything will be fine, one way or another. And if not... then it won't.

White Moon, Her glory waning, glittered the waves of the bay in Her five colors everchanging. Best, if not only, time for the silver fish.

At the tip of the cape, they bumped right into a huge school of fish. The fish, fed and grown up during the season, poured out of the net like their namesake metal, molten — except fish was alive of course. There was no need to go further, the heavily laden boat could be turned back to the Metropolis.

One last time, Sharp Breeze thought, and I retire. There will be no more fishing fleets in the bay. And maybe Orange Tide will finally find herself a good job. He had thought that many times already.

Then the waves changed color to the sixth one.

Getting under it on land is bad news already. At sea it means certain death.

“Down, quick!” Breeze shouted.

Orange stared bewildered at him, her freeze spell still directed at fish boxes — nopony will take it now, all the fish is now worse than garbage!

“The Red!”

The unicorn looked at the boxes, the fish, perplexed, but followed suit.

The captain, having shoved as many fish as he could overboard, along with the boxes and the net, we will deal with the remains later, turned on the autopilot, the emergency signal, went downstairs and closed the door behind him. Nine beats for all that.

The hold was noisy and smelly — no matter how you clean it up, the smell clinged.

Now all they could do was to wait. If the infusion is not too strong... Maybe they will go home. Maybe they will even remain themselves.

The engine was running.

The light in the window was bloodshot. Special glass was supposed to hold back its rays — but it was inadvisable to look at them too much.

Half of a slice later, the knocks and rustle, the grinding of small claws were heard from above. Outside, the remaining fish changed. Five... Nine, then more... Too many, and large ones.

The unicorn, finally remembering what she had trained for, took an old crystal emitter branded ‘Grill’ from the closet and checked the preloaded spell. The captain nodded grimly, checking the navaja mount on his hoof.

A navaja and a cremator were supposed to finish off the altered fish remaining on the deck.

Sometimes not only fish. At such moments, the captain recalled why the ponies still did not give up on farmed and synthetic fish. The natural one was too expensive.

The light behind the glass turned white. Now he had to hurry.

What their catch had become had to be destroyed before the ship touched dry land. By blowing up the engine, if necessary.

A massive steel door opened silently, and they were greeted by a silence filled only with motor humming.

Then, with a disgusting squeal, six creatures with scaly spider legs rushed towards them, opening huge toothy fish jaws.

Orange’s emitter hummed in a deep bass and four of the six creatures went down, bursted. A burning smell filled the air, as if someone had forgotten a fish in a frying pan. A very sick, rotten, dead fish. The fifth met with uncle Sharp's navaja. And the sixth—

The sixth jumped up and punctured his neck.

Without even thinking what she was doing, Orange tore off the last fish spider and stomped it with her hooves, smearing slime on the deck. If the fried creatures smelled disgusting, then the crushed ones— “Oh, Moons!” She rushed to the side.

Freed of late breakfast, she turned to the captain.

Uncle was reeling. On the neck, along the vessels, green-violet spots spread.

The Red, probably, could create a non-toxic life. In reality, it never bothered to.

“Take... a knife,” uncle Breeze whispered.

“No! One more half of a slice, and we will be in the hospital, I will make a spell…”

Not the right time to choose words.

“In half of a slice it will not be me anymore. It will be like them,” Sharp nodded weakly in the direction of the former fish, “Only bigger. It will find victims to transmit the infection and—”

Whole textbooks were filled with records of how events like these ended. He thought he talked her into what needs to be done.

But Orange had no intention of playing these games, as an unknown power was boiling below her hooves, waiting.

“Listen…” she slowly looked up. A strange expression gleamed in her eyes, “I'm only one shade away from that color…”

“No!” Sharp Breeze shouted with the last of his strength, and the strength left him that beat, “Don’t! Don’t you dare!”

They have not called for the Drowned One in the bay for many, many rounds. He thought that the memory of the family shame would die with him.

She went up to her uncle and took the navaja. She went up to the board from the side where the damned color still gleamed beyond the horizon, and began a monotonous chant.

In possession of my flowing blood,
In possession of my fertile loins,
To You, buried in the ocean, I allot my own life,
To You, left bleeding to death, I allot my own blood,
To You, twice reflected in the ocean and in heaven,
I swear to float by Your currents from now on and forever,
If You, the reshaping and the unforgiving, lend me your power!

She cried out the last one line, slashing her leg with the navaja and pouring her blood — the blood of a virgin unicorn mare — into the cold water of the bay; the dark patch spread wide, much wider than it should have, enveloping the ship from all directions.

It began to climb the sides; slowly and viscously poured into the boat.

Almost anypony who saw this slow, uneven movement of the clot of life would say that it is the product of the Red. Anypony; but those who saw the Red and its light with their own eyes might feel a touch of doubt.

One that would have neither reason nor foundation. One in which they would be right.

---

Former captain Sharp Breeze watched the last ship of the Pearl Fishing Flotilla burn out in shallow water. Orange claimed that there was no infection on the ship — nor in the body of the captain.

She knew that for sure. She gave up dry land for this knowledge, forever, to step on it only as an unwanted guest, through severe pain, when time is right and Moons are aligned in a befitting way.

Yet the tradition is the tradition. He did not want to explain the local customs to those of the Metropolis. Especially about the one custom according to which once in a generation they choose a mare of special colors as a sea witch.

Then, his tail turned to the sea, his uncertain future now enlightened by three Moons in the sky, Sharp Breeze left his past and his niece behind.

Comments

[Koekelbag]

They have not done this in the bay for many, many rounds. And he believed that the memory of the family shame would die with him.

I'm curious if this implies that Tide wasn't the first of her family to do this.

[Cloud Ring]

10987478
It totally does imply. This interlude is here because I did not want to 'lecture out' too much in the following chapter, so it is related to main plot. Yes, they live here for a long time, influenced by Sunset.

[Numinos]

Hah, nice one. So, not a true Herald, but something close.