From the West They Came

by Not That Anon

V – Sea Stories

“Moon Shine, are you there?” I cried out. Perhaps the previous three times he hadn’t heard me through the closed doors and the clanking of iron pans that I could hear from within.

The noise rang out one final time and stopped. Something heavy rattled and finally the doors opened just enough for me to see one of Moon Shine’s bloodshot eyes rapidly scanning my surroundings.

“Are you sure there’s no pony – and nothing – with you?” he said in a trembling voice.

“Yes, I’m quite certain. Now come out and tell me what happened,” I said.

Moon Shine took a panicked step back. “I can’t! I won’t! She’ll get me!”

“She… who?” I asked.

“She sings of mourning but don’t listen to her, captain! Her words are pure venom and nothing more!”

“What are you talking about? The only music I’ve heard recently were the lewd songs sung by the sailors who drank too much rum.” I remembered the exotic tune carrying an even more exotic story. Sailors were much more creative than the army. “Also, I’m not the captain, Moon Shine.”

“You didn’t hear her song?” The cook inhaled loudly, once again ignoring a part of what I’ve said. “Perhaps there’s some hope for you, then. For you, but for this damned bat who can’t sleep due to her wailing.” His head hung low as he pointed at himself. “She won’t forgive me, not now and not ever. I’ll work as long as I can but my fate was already sealed when I first heard her. The noise only makes it easier to ignore.”

The pieces finally fell into place, and I risked a question. “You mean the former captain of Nocturne, don’t you?”

Defeated, the cook nodded.

“I… My condolences, Moon Shine, but she’s dead. I understand that coping with the grief–“

“You understand nothing!” he wailed, shutting the door.

If one listened closely to the cacophony of noises coming from the kitchen, it was hard to abandon the notion that the sounds formed a requiem, to be played in a duet.

I shook my head. Maybe Sea Worthy was right; this ridiculous mindset was terribly infectious. I needed a second opinion on the subject and luckily there was at least one pony who I could trust to approach the situation logically.

---

I found Midnight arguing with Sawbones about some of the dubiously helpful practices he was employing. Finding them wasn’t a hard task, they – especially Midnight – could be heard from halfway across the ship. The two stood beside a knocked-out sailor resting on a bed with a bandaged leg.

“Go ahead, waste two thirds of pure alcohol and then wonder why you’re running out so quickly!” Midnight grabbed a bottle and turned it upside down to prove her point.

“Not a drop was wasted, young lady,” the old surgeon replied calmly. “One part for cleaning the wound, the second part for calming down the patient and last but not least, the final part poured overboard to distract the evil spirits that could infect the wound.”

“Evil spirits, really?” Midnight rolled her eyes. “Look, I know it’s been a long time since you’ve been to a university but you and your salt water fumes are an affront to all medicine!”

“I left academia precisely because of self-important and ignorant unicorns who dismissed everything they couldn’t prove. And don’t forget that they— Ha! Look who’s here. Ask him how he feels about jumping off the ship, you’ll see what I meant.” Sawbones triumphantly stomped on the floor.

“I’ll have to disappoint you, Sawbones. I feel better with every hour spent outside,” I said. “I’m here to ask someone qualified about Moon Shine’s condition.”

Midnight smiled under her hat.

Sawbones brightened up and started talking. “I appreciate the vote of confidence but I can’t say I know much. He locked himself up the day you got cut up. At least he still cooks.”

“No, I managed to get something that resembled an explanation from him. But what he said confused me even more, which is why –“ I returned Midnight’s smile “– I wanted to ask her for her opinion.”

“Oh for Luna’s sake!” Sawbones’s disappointment was immeasurable. “Do as you want, I won’t interrupt you. I’m only curious what kind of conclusion will your bright, unbiased minds reach,” he added with more than a hint of sarcasm.

Midnight stepped closer, not omitting to flick her tail at the disgruntled surgeon. “What are we working with?”

“He’s deathly afraid that she will get him soon. That’s why he’s locked himself up,” I said.

“And the she is, I presume, our favorite dead captain,” Midnight stated.

“Correct. What’s weird is that he should be the last pony to be afraid of her. He saw her sink.” I scratched my chin. “That’s not all. From what I’ve gathered, prior to the accident he was very close with her.”

“I would hate to spread the rumors,” Midnight looked around and added with an exaggerated concern, “but I can confirm the last point. Ever since we’ve left the port, he used to visit her suite late at night and–”

“So far it looks like a really bad case of grief, doesn’t it?” I cut her off before she could get into the details. “The one thing that doesn’t make sense is–“

“The noise.” Midnight returned the favor with a smug smile. “But are you sure it’s important? He wouldn’t be the first one to hear the voice of their special somepony before coping properly. Wanting to silence it is excessive but perfectly understandable for somepony handling the loss this badly.”

I sighed. “You’re probably right but he was genuinely terrified. He even warned me not to listen to her, and I quote, ‘song of mourning’ because her words are supposedly ‘pure venom and nothing more’. That doesn’t sound like grieving to me.”

“Well, everypony reacts differently and not always logically.” Midnight shrugged. “Give him time, as long as he hasn’t completely lost his mind, he should get better soon. Case solved, right, doc–”

Sawbones looked as if all blood left his face. The scalpel he was holding just a moment ago clanked against the floor. He looked at me and Midnight with wide eyes and when he finally spoke, not a trace of his usual patronizing tone could be heard.

“Pray to the Moon that you’re right, kids,” he said. “In all the years I spent serving on the sea, not once have I heard one of these stories end without a bloodshed.”

“What stories?” I dared to ask, cursing myself for my curiosity.

Midnight leaned in closer to me, deprived of her usual smile and the carefully maintained aura of superiority. She looked almost afraid; I had to fight the urge to wrap one of my wings around her.

Sawbones looked out the porthole with a sad smile. “The ones with a banshee.”

Comments

[EvilTreerat]

... well, this should be interesting. Though a proper banshee was less ghost and more a spirit that warned of impending death.

And yes, sailors as a whole are superstitious. Comes with living and working in the least-understood area of Earth.