Lyra is interested in anything out of the ordinary. So when a letter arrives telling her of a strange finding, can she really afford to miss it?
Lyra is the founder of the Equestrian Cryptid Research Foundation, a group dedicated to proving the existence of obscure creatures, races, plants, and countries. So when miniature boats and trees begin washing up on Equestria's east coast, she is immediately summoned. Put on a rickety old vessel with no more than a grizzled old Pegasus and her pet capuchin Shift, Lyra sets out. but disaster strikes, and Lyra, Shift, and her bag are stranded on an island. she seeks help, but the inhabitants may present a small problem...
takes place in the same universe as Peace at Last? and is set one month after Season 4's opening
Shortly after the Nightmare Moon incident, a young unicorn began wondering one thing: If Nightmare Moon was real, then how many other “legends” could possibly be real? What if Bighoof or Night Flyers or Pine Devils or even Yahoos were real?
So she set off to find others who thought like her, who would understand her way of thinking. Her roommate did not truly approve of this, but that did not stop the unicorn from seeking others out. Soon, she had gathered a team of cryptic enthusiasts from the town of Ponyville, and they grew into a group who called themselves “The Equestrian Cryptid Research Foundation.”
The group grew and expanded, and by the re-emergence of Discord, they had a base in every major city in Equestria. By the re-emergence of the Crystal Empire, they had split into several groups, including the Equestrian Society for the Discovery of Lost Countries, the Foundation of Cryptic Botanists, and of course, the Equestrian Cryptid Research Foundation. They welcomed all, changelings, ponies, donkeys, cattle, even a few griffins and diamond dogs. All were united by their belief in the unknown.
After a new princess was crowned, the founder of this massive following went to Celestia herself for political recognition and to ask for proper funding for all the research being done. Much to the unicorn mare’s surprise, the princesses agreed, and all the groups were officially labeled as part of the Equestrian Historical Society. It was only a month after this that the unicorn was called on her first big expedition.
Her name is Lyra Heartstrings, and this is one of her stories.
…
Lyra sat at her desk in her loft-like living space in the house she and Bonbon shared. It had been a slow month for her, with barely any Society activity beyond the odd sighting of a mysterious creature here and there. Sighing, she looked at the doodles she had been drawing, a pencil gripped between the fingers of her transformed hooves. It was a simple Morphic Spell, which allowed for small transformations to certain parts of the body, and Lyra had long ago used it to make herself a pair of hands to better understand how primates worked.
Lyra was fascinated with primates, whether they were lemurs or monkeys or apes. There were a few cryptic primates to round out this interest, such as the rainbow tiger of Tapiri (a large, carnivorous monkey with a rainbow-colored chest), the Demiguise of Saddle Arabia (a large ape that was said to be able to turn invisible), or the Clabbert of Froggy Bottom Bog (a hairless monkey with a long tail and a glowing forehead). But Lyra felt her true calling was to find a Yahoo.
Yahoos had been sighted nearly everywhere. They were tall, bipedal apes with a scant covering of hair. Supposedly, they made simple tools such as stone axes, and a few even wore clothes made from animal hide. They were probably closely related to the species of ape known as the sasquatch that was known to live in the parts of the Everfree along Equestria’s northwest coast.
Lyra felt a small fist tapping her on her head. She looked up to see her pet monkey, Shift, glaring at her impatiently. He was a white faced capuchin from Tapiri, and the love between Lyra and her pet was similar to the bond between Fluttershy and Angel Bunny. It was a fair comparison, as Shift was pointing at his stomach in an attempt to tell her he was hungry.
Lyra sighed, turning her modified appendages back into proper hooves. Well, maybe something would come up later in the week, and besides, Lyra was sure there was something alive under the kitchen sink, and that was one of the few things she and Bonbon actually agreed on. Lyra mused the thought to herself while going down the stairs. It’s probably a rodent. Or maybe a large arthropod. Perhaps a species of mobile fungus? She smiled at the thought.
Bonbon was already in the kitchen preparing lunch. Nearby, Quicksilver, Bonbon’s falcon, pecked at a bowl of cherries. Ditzy was sitting at the table, along with her foal Dinky. This was because of a sort of tradition they had started. Every other Sunday, Lyra and Bonbon invited four of their closest friends over for lunch, and Ditzy always brought Dinky. She also always brought a basket of muffins.
There was a knocking at the door. “It’s open!” Bonbon called.
Vinyl and Octavia soon walked through to the kitchen, with Octavia carefully carrying a platter of Vinyl’s homemade sandwiches.
“I hope you don’t mind if we brought one extra,” said Vinyl. A small changeling mare walked into the kitchen.
Bonbon smiled. “Of course not. Hello, Wubzy.”
The changeling smiled back. “Hello, miss Bonbon.”
The final member of the group walked in. He was a simple brown earth pony with an hourglass cutie mark. Lyra smiled. “Hi, Clockwork!”
Clockwork, also known as Time Turner or simply Doctor Whooves, smiled and nodded his head before going to sit beside Ditzy. The pegasus mare blushed a little, and Dinky attempted to scootch her mother’s chair closer, failing on account of her small size.
Before they could begin eating, there was a knock at the door. Lyra got up to answer it. Standing there was a small changeling stallion in a postal uniform.
“Yes, Firebug?”
“M..m..message f..f..for you, m..m..ma’am,” Firebug said through his constant stutter, levitating an envelope out of his bag. Lyra took the envelope. “Thanks, Firebug.”
She returned to the kitchen and opened the note.
Miss Heartstrings, There have been strange things washing up on the shores of Equestria’s East coast, things such as six-foot trees that appear to be over 100 years old according to our tests, and boats that appear to be expertly carved and seaworthy, but are no longer than two feet in length. We wish to see you for these findings. Meet us in Hinnysmouth at the hotel Mare-On-Sea today at 5:00. -Anomaly Hunter.
Lyra could not believe it. Finally, something worthwhile! She looked up.
“Sorry, guys, but I have to go. Hopefully some other time?”
Bonbon sighed. “Fine, but just try to stay safe this time, Okay?”
Lyra grinned. “Sure thing, Bonbon!” With that, she raced upstairs to begin packing. Toothbrush, mane brush, some reading material, her lyre, her hoodie (for some reason, Hinnysmouth was always cold), Shift, and of course, her journal and a few bits. She came back downstairs, grabbed a sandwich and a couple of muffins, and left for one more stop before the train station.
…
THE CHANGELING CASTLE…
Lyra walked down the main corridor into the foyer of the castle. It had been a few years now since the changelings had signed the Peace treaty, and now they barely had any restrictions on them (ie; having to wear a green necklace when shape-shifted.). In addition, pony-changeling relations had vastly improved, and now changelings could walk the streets without a pony even giving them a second glance. She was here to see a friend.
Staghorn, the son of Queen Chrysalis and Prince of the Swarm, looked up from the book he had been reading and smiled when he saw Lyra. He stood up and walked to her. He put out his hoof, and she bumped it. Then followed a series of complex maneuvers which together made up the secret hoofshake of the Society members. They laughed.
“So, Lyra, what brings you to the castle while my mother’s away visiting the other Great Swarms?”
“Do you have a book on miniature artifacts and plants? Like boats two feet long or full grown trees only six feet tall?”
Staghorn put a hoof to his chin. “I think so. Follow me.”
They walked down several more hallways, eventually arriving at the library. Hope, Staghorn’s golden-haired older sister/advisor, looked up. “Good Afternoon, Lyra. What is it you need?”
“A book on miniature life.”
Hope considered. She teleported, and quickly came back, holding a book titled Dartwing’s Observations on the Causes and Effects of Natural Dwarfism. On the cover was a picture of an old balding pegasus stallion with a grey beard and a cutie mark of several birds.
Lyra smiled. “That’s perfect!”
…
HINNYSMOUTH… 8:00 PM…
Lyra settled herself comfortably into the bed of the hotel room. She looked around at the room, decorated with pictures of the ocean and hippocampi. Sighing contentedly, she got out her journal and began writing.
I was grinning as wide as I could when I got off the train at Hinnysmouth. I was instantly greeted by a cold sea wind, which made Shift burrow even further into my hoodie. I walked from the station passing by the various shops and stores of the seaside town.
“You there! The mare in the hoodie!”
I turned at the sound of the ancient-sounding voice. I found myself facing an open-fronted tent filled with various items, such as seashells and bits of coral. There was also a small pool of water, inside which swam a sea pony mare who looked old enough to make Applejack’s grandma look young. The grey creature looked at me and beckoned me over. “Yes, I am speaking to you, child. Come closer.”
I stepped a little closer. This wasn’t a sea pony like Ditzy’s mom. This was an Abyssal sea pony, a Styxian with bat like ears, dark fur, a curved horn, and, in her case, a long, windigo-like snout. Her kind lived in deep ocean trenches, such as the one only one mile out from Hinnysmouth. She looked at me, her breath smelling of old seaweed.
“You have a great journey ahead of you. Be glad of what comes your way, and beware the one who would see you fall.”
“What do you mean?”
She cackled, making Shift burrow deeper into my hoodie. She stared at me, and I noticed for the first time that she was blind. She smiled, revealing yellowed teeth.
“You have a touch of destiny about you.”
She cackled again, and then disappeared into her pool. I looked into it. Near the bottom was a cave or tunnel of some sort. It probably leads back to the sea, I mused before walking off towards the hotel. “A touch of destiny.” I wonder what that means? I shrugged and continued onwards.
…
Anomaly Hunter was waiting for me in the lobby. He was a blue earth pony with a tweed jacket and a magnifying glass and question mark cutie mark. He smiled when he saw me, and we did the secret hoofshake of the Society. When we finished, he began talking.
“Lyra! I’m so glad you could make it here! How have you been? And how’s Bonbon? Still doing well I hope? And what about all your friends? I heard Vinyl and Octavia’s radio show has been hiring ponies to help them, and I have a nephew who’s pretty good at that sort of thing. But I digress; How are you? It’s been a while since…,” he was cut off as Shift threw a pencil at him.
Anomaly Hunter laughed. “Sorry, where are my manners? Hello Shift! I’m guessing you want these?” He pulled a bag of assorted nuts out of his saddlebag. Shift’s eyes widened as the bag was given to him, and he quickly began eating.
“I hope I am not interrupting anything,” said a smooth voice. I turned around, narrowing my eyes. Shift hissed in the way monkeys do when they are trying to scare off a predator or a rival.
Behind me was a black pegasus mare in a grey jacket. Her mane was spikey, and her cutie mark was a five-pointed star. Her yellow eyes weren’t friendly, and the smile she was wearing was less of a “friendly” smile and more of an “oh, it’s you again. I thought you died or something” kind of smile.
“Hello, Blackwing,” I said, trying to keep my voice polite.
“Heartstrings,” she replied, not disguising her contempt. “What are you doing here? Looking for sea monkeys?” she laughed.
I wasn’t sure why she didn’t like me. We weren’t really rivals, because I specialized in primates, whereas her specialty lay in nocturnal life, which was interesting considering she was an ordinary pegasus. I had never done anything to her that I could remember, but she never missed a chance to pester me. Anomaly Hunter stepped between us.
“Now girls, you’re both here for the same reason, remember? Because you’re both interested in this.”
Blackwing and I stared at the item. It was a canoe-like boat, similar to those used by ponies in the tropical islands south of Neighpon, but with one small difference.
The boat was only two feet long.
Blackwing was the first to speak. “So what do you think, Hunter?”
“It’s obviously pony-made, earth pony if I’m correct. You can tell by the carving marks that the knives used were held by teeth, not magic. But its size is baffling.”
“Yeah,” I agreed. “The only equine close to small enough to fit in this craft would have been Eohippus, and it’s still too small for that! I mean, they were at least foal-sized, but whoever made this could only be six inches tall at the most.”
Blackwing spoke. “Ooh! So you think it belongs to a midget? Or perhaps a race of midgets! Ha! Heartstrings, sometimes you sound so stupid.”
I ignored her comment, studying the craft. It truly was unique. There were designs on the sides which did not match any known pony culture, yet for some reason, they seemed familiar.
Anomaly Hunter cut in. “Anyway, I’ve managed to charter a boat to attempt to take you to the vicinity of where we believe this came from. You’ll leave tomorrow. In the meantime, enjoy yourselves! Here are your rooms.”
I went up to my room for the night.
…
Day 2…
Blackwing and I walked down to the docks. There, we saw our boat.
Blackwing raised an eyebrow. “You’ve GOT to be kidding me.”
The ship was a rickety old kelp harvester with the name Tempest on the side. It creaked and groaned as it floated. The captain was looking at us. “So ye’re the ones who want to sail on me vessel, eh?”
He was a grizzled old grey pegasus covered in scars, with one eye missing. He didn’t wear an eye patch, so I was treated to the sight of his empty eye socket covered in scar tissue. His cutie mark was an anchor. He continued to inspect us with his one eye. Shift returned the captain’s glare. It was a challenge for dominance. The stallion laughed.
“HA HA HA! I like this little monkey! Any creature that looks at me like that deserves me respect! The name’s Sea Storm, and it’s a pleasure to meet ya! Can I have yer names?”
I smiled. Despite his looks, he seemed nice. “I’m Lyra Heartstrings, and this is my pet, Shift.”
Sea Storm dipped his head. “A pleasure to meet you both. And you?” He turned to Blackwing.
“Blackwing Thunder.”
Sea Storm looked over the pegasus mare. “Well then,” he finally said, “let’s be off!”
We set sail. To where, I could not say, but it would be a grand adventure. I could feel it. I went up to the bow. Taking out my lyre, I began to sing an old traveling song I had picked up: The road goes ever on and on, Down from the door where it began. Now far ahead the road has gone, And I must follow if I can, Pursuing it with hooves so fleet Until it joins some larger way, Where many paths and errands meet. And whither then? I cannot say.
Before me, the sea and sky created a beautiful scene, a perfect start for a voyage into the unknown.
I dreamed of the blind sea pony. “A touch of destiny…” she said before releasing a cackle. Then there was a harsh booming noise.
*
I woke with a start when I heard the storm. Shift instantly shot towards my head, shaking like a leaf. Grabbing my bag (I didn’t want to lose anything), I went up on the deck, where I could hear the captain shouting orders to his crew, which included his niece, a familiar silvery blue unicorn. The captain continued.
“Trixie, Lower the sails! Mr. Lagoon, secure the rigging! We’ll ride out this storm, and I need all of you in order to make that happen!”
In the confusion, nopony noticed me.
Just like how I did not notice the figure who tossed me over the side into a lifeboat. As my head hit the wood, the world faded to black.
…
Day 7… I heard sea birds, and I felt the sun on my face. I opened my eyes, and I was greeted with the sight of Shift’s face. He cocked his head and chirped questioningly.
I smiled. “I’m fine. Have you seen the bag, Shift? I want to make sure everything in it is okay.”
Shift pointed, and I turned to see the bag lying in the sand. I got up and went over to it, carefully opening it, and thanking Celestia that the bag was just as waterproof as the salespony had promised. All my supplies appeared to be in place, save for my hoodie, which I had left in my quarters.
I looked at my surroundings. It appeared as though Shift and I were trapped on an island, with several trees, though something seemed off. Then I realized what it was, and my eyes widened, the pupils shrinking.
The trees were only about six feet high. Whoever had thrown me overboard (and I had a good feeling that it was a certain black pegasus mare) had inadvertently allowed me to find the place I had been looking for!
Something flew up to my face and hovered in front of my nose. It appeared to be a giant species of hummingbird, with a wingspan about three feet long and a plumage which was a deep blue color. But that was not the most unusual thing about it. No, what was unusual was the fact that it appeared to have a complex rigging attached to its underside, strapped inside which was a tiny yellow pony, only about six inches tall at the shoulders. He stared at me in shock, and then, pulling the reigns of his mount (is it technically still called a mount if the rider and harness is slung under it?), he turned, causing the bird to fly back towards the miniature forest.
I stood there for a minute before Shift rapped my skull with his knuckles. I snapped out of my daze began running after the flash of blue.
…
I wasn’t quite sure how Shift and I had been ambushed. One minute, I had been following the bird, the next, Shift and I were tied to the ground and surrounded by tiny ponies waving swords and shouting in a very musical language. I noticed one thing immediately. These ponies were a race of FLIGHTLESS PEGASI! Their wings only seemed useful for allowing them to jump farther than normal. I remembered reading something like this in one of Dartwing’s books.
I have noticed on my travels that it seems to be the common practice of certain winged creatures, that when presented with a sufficient amount of food and a limited amount of predators, over time, experience atrophying of the wing muscles. They may keep their wings, but they will eventually adapt to a purpose alternative to flight, such as balance, as a method of underwater propulsion, or for display. I can easily imagine a group of pegasi who, by living a more and more terrestrial lifestyle, could eventually be rendered flightless, their wings becoming smaller, useful only for extending their jumps, or perhaps becoming brightly colored in the males to attract mates. Such is the way of nature.
Here was the proof of what that great naturalist had written, for I noticed the small stallions also had brightly colored wings. I was able to observe this well, as some sort of leader now stood before me. Well, I assumed he was a leader from his fancy purple robe and tiny feathered headdress. He was a soft green color, but his miniscule wings were adorned with bright scarlet and baby blue stripes, a common feature I noticed in all the males. He looked at me, and said something quickly in a foreign language. I attempted to signal to him that I did not understand his tongue, and to my surprise, he seemed to understand my meaning, if not my language. I tried to request that I would like to be free of my bindings, and though he seemed to understand, he shook his head in a definitive “no.”
A conversation started up. Among the words I heard, the phrase “Kippickt nagall” was repeated. Several days later I would realize that this phrase could be translated loosely into “Mare-Mountain,” perhaps not the most flattering title (I didn’t sneak Bonbon’s candies away that much… okay, I did, but it wasn’t noticeable!), but I guess it was fitting to them, considering how massive I must seem.
The leader raised a hoof, and the crowd fell silent.
“Mikitsi flooparl!” he shouted, and the soldiers (at least, that’s what they looked like) began to go through my bag! Well, that was more than I could take!
I honestly had not wanted to use my magic. There had been stories of pony researchers who had lived among primitive tribes who eventually worshipped them as deities. Eventually, those researchers began to believe the lie, and eventually either died when they tried to prove they were immortal or were rescued and taken to the nearest asylum for rehabilitation. The last thing I wanted was to be worshipped (okay, I did actually want to be worshipped, but by a nice stallion, not a race of pygmies!), but I couldn’t let them go through my stuff. My horn glowed, and the ropes holding me down came loose. I looked at the tiny pegasi and said very clearly, “That’s MINE. DON’T touch it unless I say so.”
There was a standstill, and I wondered what would happen next.
I had expected spears to be thrown at me or something. Instead, the Meeni (as I later learned they called themselves) constructed a sort of large, wheeled platform for me to sit on. From there, I was taken to their city. I don’t mean a city as in a large gathering of huts, I mean an actual city! The buildings were made of mud bricks, and I saw evidence of primitive plumbing. The air above the city buzzed with the steady monotonous drone made by the wings of the Natask (the giant hummingbirds used for transport by the Meeni.)
Their leader, the Drakik, ordered me to be put in the town square, at least that’s what I gathered. I noticed the various warriors surrounding me, aiming miniature ballistae at my body, should I try anything suspicious. It was enough for me (those spearheads looked SHARP!). Shift was also smart enough to take the hint.
The mini-pegasi began to once again rifle through my belongings, taking them out and examining them. Afterwards, they put everything back, save for the bits, which they seemed particularly interested in for some reason. I was to find out later that gold is considered a sacred metal to them. Something about it being the color of the sun, I don’t know. I’m a zoologist, not an expert in the religion of foreign cultures.
It was several hours before I was released from the ropes. Why they released me, I don’t know, but I was happy about it. Then I noticed I had been chained by my back leg to the cobblestones. Wonderful. Shift wasn’t off much better, being confined to a cage.
A small platform was brought before me, upon which sat a pony I assumed to be a diplomat of some sort, based mostly on the fact she had a fancy hat, sort of like those college graduation hats, you know, the ones with the flat square and the tassel? Her hat was like that, but it had a bunch of feathers around the edge. Actually, her entire demeanor reminded me of my old teacher from Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns (I was a descendant of Starswirl, and I managed to perfect my hoof-to-hand spell there).
She began speaking to me slowly, and it dawned on me I was getting a language lesson. Needless to say, I paid immediate attention.
Day 20… (I think…)
I had learned the majority of the Meeni language in what I assumed was two weeks. I had honestly lost track of time, but as I was now allowed to roam free, I didn’t mind that much. I had learned that the Meeni name for the island more or less literally translated into “the Island,” so I just took to calling it Lillipon, after the island full of tiny ponies in that book Gull Wing’s Travels by… somepony whose last name was “Swift,” I think.
The Meeni had many unique cultural quirks, the least of which was how a mare decided who her suitor would be. Apparently, the prospective stallions would attach long, colorful streamers to their tails, and would participate in what I can only describe as a jumping contest, where they would jump over a large log several times their height. Somehow, this allowed the mare to decide who her future husband would be, though I wasn’t sure why.
Their differentiation of the sexes was also odd. Colts and fillies received separate schooling, colts starting at the age of ten, and fillies starting at five. The colts learned to be blacksmiths, masons, builders, and soldiers, while the fillies learned the trades of scholars, archivists, diplomats, and farmers. Though the mares were capable of holding titles of prestige, it was only the stallions that could own property and hold the position of Drakik. The Drakik also was the only stallion allowed more than one wife, and could pick and choose mares as he pleased.
They buried their dead with their heads pointing downwards, believing if they should ever rise again (something I completely believed possible. I heard Applebloom’s story about what she saw in the Everfree!), they would wake up and begin digging the wrong way. I guess that sort of made sense, in a way… I would have just burned the body, but to each their own.
But what I found strangest was their writing style and language. They wrote in a counter-clockwise spiral, circling out from the center. Their books opened from the top, making the covers more like lids in a way. I never learned to successfully write the Meeni language, though I learned to read it quickly. The letters of their written language were similar to a mix of Neighponese kanji, Saddle Arabian calligraphy, and ancient Helotian hieroglyphics, and their alphabet consisted of 34 letters. Thankfully, the spoken language was actually made up of the same sounds that made up the Equestrian spoken language, but certain words were capable of conveying quite a few meanings depending on the tone and method of pronunciation. For example, “Drakik,” when pronounced with emphasis on the “Dra” and the last “k” almost sounding like a click (DRAH-ki-CK), meant “Ruler of the Island,” whereas “Drakik” pronounced with a drawn-out “aaaaaa” and emphasis on the first “k” (draaah-Kik) referred to a type of flowering plant, and “Drakik” with a rolled “r” and long “eeee” sound (drrrra-KEEEEEK) meant “Highest of mountains.”
Their farming was superficially similar to that of a normal Equestrian earth pony, tilling the soil with a plow, and using regular watering schedules. However, they irrigated their crops by means of a complex system of above-ground pipes.
They supplemented their diet by searching for eggs and fishing. As little known as it is, ponies can digest meat, they merely don’t eat it that often usually. Pegasi, having a higher metabolism, require a bit more protein than a unicorn or earth pony, eat fish more regularly than any type except sea ponies, octoponies, and merrow, or sea-changelings. Though they no longer were capable of flight, the Meeni seemingly retained the metabolism of their flying ancestors.
My instructor, Swift Speaker (for so I translate “Bal-mak-esh”) has told me I will be having an audience with the Drakik tomorrow. Hopefully this will turn out well for me…
The Drakik was dressed in purple robes when I was brought before him. They were long, ornate affairs, covered in swirling designs. He was also accompanied by other scholars and palace advisors. He spoke to Swift Speaker first.
“Can the Mare-Mountain speak yet?”
“Indeed she can, as you ordered.”
The Drakik turned his attention to me.
“Where do you hail from, and do you mean to make war against us?”
My answer was simple enough. “Equestria, a land far west of here, and I have not come to make war.”
At the word “land,” there was an uproar, which became louder when I said “west”. An old scholar spoke up. “Impossible!” he said. “All that lies further west of the Island is the Maelstrom, which sinks everything! East lies the Tempest, destroyer of ships, and North and South are the Typhoons! There is no land beyond those storms! Only water and monsters!”
The Drakik glared at the scholar, who promptly closed his mouth. He turned back to me.
“I have a proposal.”
***
I had to sign a document. It wasn’t easy, but I signed the Drakik’s proposal eventually.
It consisted of several rules I had to follow, which Swift Speaker read to me:
“First, The mare–mountain shall not depart from the Drakik’s dominions, without his license under his great seal.
"Second, she shall not presume to come into our metropolis, without the Drakik’s express order; at which time, the inhabitants shall have two hours warning to keep within doors.
"Third, the said mare–mountain shall confine her walks to our principal high roads, and not offer to walk, or lie down, in a meadow or field of corn.
"Fourth, as she walks the said roads, she shall take the utmost care not to trample upon the bodies of any of the Drakik’s loving subjects or carriages, nor take any of his subjects into her hooves or magic without their own consent.
"Fifth, If an express requires extraordinary dispatch, the mare–mountain shall be obliged to carry the messenger a six days journey, once in every moon, and return the said messenger back (if so required) safe to the Drakik’s imperial presence.
"Sixth, she shall be our ally against our enemies in the neighboring southern island of Bluugh, and do her utmost to destroy their fleet, which is now preparing to invade us.
"Seventh, that the said mare–mountain shall, at her times of leisure, be aiding and assisting to our workers, in helping to raise certain great stones, towards covering the wall of the principal park, and other royal buildings.
"Eighth, that the said mare–mountain shall, in two moons' time, deliver in an exact survey of the circumference of our dominions, by a computation of her own paces round the coast.
"Lastly, that, upon her solemn oath to observe all the above articles, the said mare–mountain shall have a daily allowance of food and drink sufficient for the support of 1724 of the Drakik’s subjects, with free access to the Drakik’s royal prescence, and other marks of the Drakik’s favor. Dictated, read, and given at the Drakik’s palace at Belfaborac, the twelfth day of the ninety–first moon of his reign."
To be honest, I had had worse jobs.
***
Day… I don’t know. It felt like a Tuesday…
Note to self: get portable tiny calendar
The ponies of Bluugh attacked. To be honest, it was cute. Their fleet consisted of fairly modern (by which I mean 18th century) sailing vessels that looked similar to Manechurian Junks.
It was easy enough to wade out with a rope, tie them up, and drag them back to their island. I didn’t even have to put a lot of effort into it. Once I reached Bluugh, I simply set the ships down far inland, and then went back to Lillipon.
***
I was received as a hero and given a length of gold thread to tie around my foreleg. A feast was thrown in my honor. It should be noted here that the Meeni are incredible mathematicians, and were able to fully supply my dietary needs.
However, the feast had only just ended when Shift began running around in an obvious panic. Warning klaxons sounded, three note blasts for a wild animal attack. Signal pyres were lit. Looking over a small rise, I saw a creature twice the size of an alicorn rising from the waves and onto the beach.
It was a Lotan, a type of sea hydra normally found near the coasts of Saddle Arabia and Camelu. What made them unique was… I ducked as a gout of flame was shot at me.
Yeah. They breathe fire. Kind of weird considering they’re technically sea creatures.
What really held my attention though, were two things.
One, we were nowhere near the lotan’s home range. This was Scylla territory, aka, “six-headed marine hydra a little bigger than a regular hydra” territory. The average Lotan stuck to shallow water near Camelu and Saddle Arabia, simply because they weren’t good enough swimmers to deal with larger predators like the Scylla, Cetus (Star Whale), Megalodon, or Kraken. (Geez, I’m a nerd, sorry for the exposition.)
Second, the middle neck had a collar.
Now, I’m sorry for cutting away from this journal entry, but let me explain something.
Hydra eggs of any kind are considered a Class IV trade object. That means they’re among the most dangerous things you can buy on the black market, and you have to be fairly rich to get one.
Hydras, if trained from when they hatch, make fairly good pets, if high-maintenance ones. In ancient times, domestic hydras were used as beasts of war. Now, it’s rare to find any pony with a pet hydra.
But this Lotan had a black collar around its central neck. “Cuddles” was spelled out in perfect Equestrian.
Pet or not, I had to do something… I considered panicking to be a viable option, before I remembered I wasn’t in Ponyville, where all the problems resolve themselves while everypony ran in circles screaming.
…I would actually need to do something to stop this.
Now, I’m NOT a fighter. Danger rears up, I’m the fourth pony after Daisy, Lotus, and Roseluck to start panicking. But I AM a unicorn, and that means I think better under stressful situations…
“Hey, ya big lizard! Look over here! Wiggle wiggle wiggle! Nice tasty pony butt!”
…Not that I always come up with genius-level ideas. But it was all I could think of.
And it worked. The Lotan turned all seven heads, and started lumbering after me, roaring. I knew where I should lead the beast even as I ran. Thank Epona and the other gods that the lotan had such relatively stubby legs. It continued following me, shrieking and occasionally spewing fire. I kept running.
***
I had been put to a few jobs by the Drakkik during my stay. One of these was helping in the local rock quarry. It was a massive boxed-in canyon, deep enough that the bottom was shaded at all times except noon, veins of marble running through the rock. This was where the city got most of the material for its artisans and stone-workers. It also had a path to the top just wide enough for me.
It was here I led the lotan. I ran up the path, leaving the hydra at the bottom. When I reached the top, I found what I needed. In this case, that happened to be a big pile of marble. I knew I couldn’t count on luck and hope if I kicked the rocks off the edge they’d miraculously hit the beast. So I did the smart thing, levitating the pile, using a simple spell to mesh it into a single large (and heavy!) rock, and then, aiming, dropped it, crushing most of the beast’s heads. The beast screamed in pain, severing the trapped heads and running off. Two more were growing from each of the severed stumps, so the beast had eight new heads, but it ran back to the safety of the ocean and swam away. After all, it was a wounded animal in an unfamiliar environment.
I was celebrated as a hero once again, but I had an odd feeling. Somehow, I knew who had sent that beast
Day 30
I am being forced to leave today. It was decided that due to my size and my reluctance to actually destroy “threats to the nation”, I was more of a burden than a help. Swift Speaker was especially sad to see me go. I set about building a boat, with some help from the locals. It was weird how I barely noticed the Meeni’s size anymore, but I suppose that’s just me.
As I write, my boat is finished and ready to go. My items have been returned to me. I have been given gifts, as well as a few books… and one other thing, but I’ll keep it a surprise until later.
I set off, knowing I might return some time in the future. But for now, I was content. Shift was on my shoulder, and I was heading home… I hit the storms that surrounded the island.
***
”Hold down the lines, lads!” Sea Storm, captain of the Tempest shouted. “We aren’t giving up until we find her!”
“It’s been nearly a month, you idiot! She’s dead!”
“I’M the captain of this ship, Miss Blackwing, and we don’t go back until…”
“Uncle Storm!” Trixie shouted. “I see something! There, off the port bow!”
It was a small boat, and inside was a mint green unicorn.
***
Bonbon wrapped her friend in a hug once she got off the boat in Hinnysmouth. Anomaly Hunter did the same.
“We were so worried! What happened? Where were you?”
Lyra smiled. “You wouldn’t believe me… if I hadn’t brought a few things.”
With that, the unicorn produced her gifts that she had received from the tiny, flightless pegasi, telling her story as she did. Anomaly was stunned beyond words. Lyra smirked. “And one other thing…”
She took off her hoodie. Out of it came a tiny pegasus mare, only six inches tall, with tiny, useless wings.
“Meet Swift Speaker, Ambassador of the Meeni.”
The pegasus mare bowed and said something in a foreign language.
“I’ve managed to start on a Meeni-Equestrian guide, but it’s still in the works. I’ll leave you with it so you two can talk. I need to find Blackwing.”
Lyra left Swift Speaker with Anomaly. She found the black pegasus mare soon enough.
“I know you sent the lotan, Blackwing.”
“Hmm? I don’t know what you mean, Heartstrings.”
“Yes you do. I suspected it when I saw the collar, but I was sure when I saw your face when I told the captain my story.”
Blackwing went stiff. “You can’t prove anything. I hate you, Heartstrings. I hate you enough I’d do ANYTHING to get rid of you.
***
Lyra didn’t see Blackwing after that. She reported her findings to Celestia, and the islands of Bluugh and Lilipon were officially catalogued. Blackwing appeared to have fled the country, now a wanted fugitive.
That didn’t matter. Lyra was glad to be home. It was Sunday, and that meant her friends would be coming over for breakfast.
