> The Element of the Island
>  by computerneek
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> Prologue
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

The wail of the siren could be heard all across the island.
The attackers groan at the sound.  Their camouflage is perfect, the time impeccable.  It’s in the middle of the night- and the moon never shines here, for the storm.  There is not so much as a speck of light on the island.
But the alarm still went off.
Two hundred squadrons of pegasi take flight, charging towards the island.  To get inside the defenses, before they can be stopped.
One of the two hundred ships explodes with no warning.  No survivors.
Two hundred squadrons of pegasi exchange worried glances as the mountain peaks emit little pops, accompanied by momentary flashes of light.
Fifty squadrons of pegasi are dead before they hit the water.
A second of the two hundred ships explodes.  No survivors.
The attack is not over.  The siren keeps going.
The first defender reaches his post, finds all is in peril.
A hundred and fifty squadrons of pegasi find themselves squinting into numerous of the brightest lights ever made.  They can’t even see the island.
A third of the two hundred ships explodes.  No survivors.
The second defender reaches his post, finds all is in peril.
Metallic spears soar into the air on pillars of fire and smoke, hunting for targets.
One hundred squadrons of pegasi hit the water in pieces.
The third defender reaches his post, finds all is in peril.
Forty-eight ships are thrown into the air by a massive fireball.  They, and eighteen ships they land on, sink immediately upon landing.  No survivors.
One of the one hundred thirty one remaining ships explodes.  No survivors.
The fourth defender reaches his post, finds all is in peril.
Booms echo out from the shore.  The ocean is checkered with explosions.  Ninety ships are hit; seventy-three sink.  The survivors are lifted aboard the forty remaining unwounded ships.  The seventeen wounded ships transfer some wounded passengers to undamaged vessels, by use of the same teams of pegasi that rescued the survivors.
One of the undamaged ships explodes.  No survivors.
The fifth defender reaches his post, finds all is in peril.
A larger metallic spear rises into the sky on a pillar of fire and smoke, in a straight line.  The sky burns.
Two squadrons of pegasi are killed on impact with the ground.  Forty-eight more have already landed.
The first defender is slain.
A second siren blasts across the island.
The village arises.  Thunder is heard, striking down the attackers by the dozen.
But fifty-six ships have landed, as well.  The attackers are coming down on them by the thousand.
The village, and the four remaining defenders, are slaughtered.
An undamaged ship explodes.  No casualties.
The defenses go silent.  The sirens go silent.  All is defeated.
The attackers rejoice one minute too soon.
The sixth defender emerges from her empty home, finds all is lost.
The ocean boils for miles around.  The very air they breathe catches fire.
There are no survivors.
> Chapter 1:  The Shattered World
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was…  desolate.
That’s the only word she could think of to describe it, when she first saw it.  Even though it was filled with ponies, almost to bursting.
They gave her a quick tour of the general areas of the island that day, and sent her back to the ship to prepare.  Today is her first day on the job.
The term has only become even more fitting.  There’s no more than a dozen ponies on the island right now.
“...  You want me to find out what did this?” she asks.
The unicorn that teleported her here from the ship anchored out at sea, the closest any ship or pegasus is allowed to come on pain of death, shrugs.  “Pretty sure they do, yes,” he says.
“And they still haven’t found the defensive nodes?”
He nods.
She sighs.  “Thank Celestia for teleportation.  Do we know if they will attack us on hoof?”
He shakes his head.  “We don’t know.  We haven’t seen any evidence to suggest they will…  or won’t, for that matter.”
She bows her head.  “Roger that.”  She steps forwards, into the wasteland before her, while he teleports back for the next pony.
She looks down at the blackened structures of the village.  It’s almost like the village was burned down.
On her first impression, the village square is huge.  At least, until she spots the remains of the far corners of a couple structures near the edge.
This must have been the epicenter.
She searches around the middle for signs of a fixed-position device.
Nothing but the strange black sand covering the entire place.
So she picks a senior to ask; the place is full of them by now.  “Anyplace something might have been launched from?” she asks.
He shakes his head.  “Not that we’ve been able to find.  We have found a few places something might have been pulled from, though.”  He proceeds to name a few sectors.  “Everypony’s already run over them with a fine-toothed comb, though.  There’s nothing to find.”
She bows her head.  “Thank you.”
Five minutes later, she picks a time when nopony is looking to slip away from the pack.
Four hours later, she returns empty-hooved.
It takes five minutes for something to catch her attention.
There’s something recognizable on the wall in this cottage.  It’s high up, where she can’t reach it for a closer examination.  It’s the only recognizable object in any of the huts.  The blast marks on the wall seem to be smudged around it, but otherwise continuous- and she’d expect a blast shadow, not a smudging of the blast marks.
It’s a cuckoo clock.
She stares at it for a few minutes.  She tilts her head, and stares at it some more.  Another Agent, of about her age, seems to notice it too- and joins her in staring at it.
I turn my head, draw the attention of one of the older Agents in the room.  There’s two of them.
“Yes?” he asks.
I point at the clock.  “There’s something funny about that clock,” I state.
He glances at it.  “It’s a cuckoo clock.”
I roll my eyes.  “Look at the blast marks.  Heck, look at the clock.  It’s the only clock on the island!”
He blinks, and whirls to face it.  “That…  That is true.”  He steps closer to it, rearing up on his hind legs to get a closer look.  The other grown Agent in the room starts walking over; he was further away, at the opposite side of the building.  The young agent next to me seems to be hiding a snicker.
He touches the clock.
Cuck-koo!
And screams, leaping several feet backwards.  Honestly, I saw that coming.  There’s a reason they call me one of the best Agents around, despite being a fairly junior Agent, and it’s not because of chance.
So of course, I’m laughing my head off.  The young Agent next to me is doing exactly the same thing; it would seem she saw it coming too.  The other adult agent, after jumping slightly, starts laughing as well.
Cuck-koo!  Cuck-koo!  Cuck-koo!
Finally, the senior agent that touched the clock starts laughing as well.
By Celestia, he’s going to get teased for that.  Other Agents, responding to his scream, are coming in the door, seeing the clock, and joining in the laughter.
Cuck-koo!  Cuck-koo!  Cuck-koo!



That was the highlight of the day, the cuckoo clock.  The only time I smiled all day long.
Save now.  I’m back on the ship for the night, staying up late studying the photos we took of the clock and the wall around and behind it.  I’m having difficulty containing the snicker as I remember what happened.
I wasn’t able to find that other young agent in the lunchroom at dinner time.  If she’s smart enough to see the cuckoo clock coming, we’ll probably get the entire puzzle solved in an afternoon if we put our heads together.
A feat that, aside from her, I alone seem to be capable of.  Solving the puzzle at all, that is- forget time constraints.  All the other Agents, despite being specially selected ponies from all across Equestria, seem too incompetent.



I’m late to get to the island the following day.
When I arrive, I immediately notice there seems to be a flurry of activity around the middle of the town.  The center of the blast site.
When I show up, I find Agents shuffling around a shallow pit in the middle of the blast site.  There’s a couple of piles of the blackened sand off to the sides.
“What’s going on?” I ask.
While the senior Agent I asked is digging in his pockets, another young Agent steps up next to me, looking at him.  Upon closer inspection, I realize she’s the same young Agent from yesterday.
He comes up with a picture.  “There was an X,” he states, showing it.  “We haven’t found anything yet- the rock under this sand is very hard.”
In the picture, a large, red X is visible on the black sand, right in the middle of the blast zone.  At the epicenter.
I look at the picture for a second longer.  I look back up at him, and back down at the picture.
I hold back my comment.  It wouldn’t be helpful.
The other young Agent doesn’t hold back her comment.  “You’re looking in the wrong spot,” she states.
“What?” he demands.
I cringe; he’s going to be pounding on her when we get back to base tonight.  She stands about a ninety percent chance of surviving.
She points at the photo.  “Whoever drew the X did it to mislead.  Look at the sand- the stuff in the lower left corner of the X is visibly disturbed, but not in the middle.”
True.  I didn’t notice that right off; she must have good eyes.
He studies the photo for several seconds, scowls at her, and turns to go find the corresponding corner of the X.
She’s not off the hook.
I mutter into her ear.  “You know he’s going to kill you for that at dinner, right?”
She smiles.  “No he won’t.”
Cuck-koo!
Ahh, this would be today’s highlight.  The buried object was the cuckoo clock- and Agents went flying in every direction when it went off, screaming their lungs out at the same time.  After a half-seconds’ look, I start laughing.  She joins me, before the other Agents start realizing what happened and laughing as well.
Scared by a cuckoo clock again.



Later, at dinner, I scan the lunchroom for her again, finding nothing.  I do find that senior agent, prowling the lunchroom, searching for her.
She must be good at hiding.



On the third day, I’m the first pony back out to the island- and he’s the second.  He camps the jump point, waiting for her.
I’ll have to make a note on my report- but unless I can get his name, they won’t be able to do anything about him.  That’s the most annoying thing about these group assignments.
Half an hour passes.  I glance over between buildings; there is nothing in any of these, and I don’t have a horn to detect the magic traces that whatever it was would have left.  Of course, they could have faded by now, but still.
He’s still sitting next to the jump point, staring at the ring they placed on the sand.
She’s sitting behind him, making faces at the back of his head.
I blink.  She’s a unicorn.  Handy.
I make my way over, silently get her attention.  She raises an eyebrow; I gesture back away.  She shrugs, before dipping a hoof briefly into a pile of sand to pull out a cuckoo clock, which she places so it’s almost touching him.  And so it’ll open up right into him.
Funny, that pile wasn’t there last night- but if I remember right, it was there when I arrived today.  She must have seen this coming and prepared.
That’ll be priceless to watch.
She snickers silently into a hoof, before turning to trot away behind him, in the direction I gestured.
Well…  Not quite.  She walks up to the top of a hill, where there’s a small pile of sand.
…  Or, it would be more accurate to call it a sand castle.  It certainly wasn’t here before, but I might have missed it last night.  I notice a piece of wire sticking out of the side of it opposite the jump point.
It’s here that she stops, and smiles at me.  “Yes?”
I blink.  “I was wondering, have you seen any spell remnants around here?”
She blinks.  “Uh, no?  Not unless you count whatever those idiots keep throwing around.”  She waves a hoof down at the village.  Then she grins, touching the wire, and pointing down to the warp point.  “Watch!”
I look.
She pulls the wire.
Cuck-koo!
“He had to have made it at least ten feet!” I exclaim.
“Fifteen and a half,” she laughs- but I notice she keeps her gaze locked onto him.
I look at him again.  After recovering from his fright, rather than laughing like the rest of the Agents (none of which seem to realize the clock wasn’t there before), he charges up the hill at us.
She giggles.  “Aaaand….  Now!”  She gives the wire a sharp pull.
Cuck-koo!
A second cuckoo clock, under a low mound in the sand, throws a large wad of sand right into his face.
She really prepared for it.
…  I wonder where she got the cuckoo clocks.
After screaming in fright, he then runs for the shoreline to wash the sand out of his eyes.  All the other Agents just laugh.



I am only barely able to fend him off, come dinner.  I think he noticed that I was laughing with her, with nopony else nearby.  He’s probably assumed we’re close, and is trying to get at her through me.
The idiot!  He knows they purposely don’t send Agents that know each other to group sites like this!
…  which in my opinion is just as stupid of a decision.  Which means, if someone smart is in control of the assignments, that rule was flat-out ignored.
Again, she doesn’t show up for dinner.  I take the time after dinner to find the Agent List- the list of all agents assigned to the station.  It’s got descriptions of them on it as well.  I scan down it.
I’m near the bottom.  She…
I go over the list again, and a third time.
I can’t find her description.
Something is wrong.
I go straight to my commanding officer.  Request permission to work the night at the island.
He shakes his head.  “As much as I’d love to approve that, I can’t,” he states.  “Everypony’s already off of transit duty.  I can approve it for tomorrow, in lieu of your dayshift if you’d like.  Though be warned- nopony’s on transit duty from ten ‘till eight!”
I scowl.  “Um…  Can I waive day after tomorrow’s dayshift in favor of tomorrow’s night?”
He tilts his head.  “You know, if you want, I don’t have to waive any shifts for it.”
I nod.  “Yeah, then I’ll do that.  The one night only, right now, though.”
“Alright,” he states.  “Approved.  You’ve got tomorrow’s night in addition to the regular days.  Thank you, for your dedication.”



Day four is…  interesting.  In a weird way.  He tried making a swing or two at me, but I dodged easily.  He might be stronger but, especially out on the island where there is plenty of room to move, I have the mobility advantage.
Before I even arrive, they’re doing a headcount.  Did something happen?  I ask, and am quickly pointed to the village.
One of the previously intact buildings has been blown up, and there’s a trail of blood leading out of it, to…
I follow the trail with my eyes.  It goes out into the main blast zone, does a loop de loop, moves over, does another, moves again…  I crouch down, look closer at it.  Sniff it.
I don’t touch it.  I don’t need to.
It’s not blood.
It’s red paint.
Wet red paint.
I glance back at the headcounting idiots and follow the trail.
At the end of the trail, I find her.  She’s tying the rope in place on a gallows, hanging…
It’s not a pony.  It’s got oversized buttons for eyes.
She glances up at me as I approach, pulls the knot tight, and puts a bag over the paint-stained lifesize doll’s head before jumping down.  “Think it’ll drive them crazy?” she asks.
I look at the doll once again.  It looks like a real pony, when the head is covered.  Then I look at her.  “They’re already crazy.”
She snickers, glancing up at her doll.  “It’s a bag full of wet paint,” she states.  “I used a frag grenade in that house to puncture it before dragging it here.”  She grins at me.  “It’s stitched to the noose so it won’t fall- and so I could drag it without getting covered in paint.”
I tilt my head.  “Frag grenade?”
She blinks.  “You know, a hoofheld bomb designed to fragment apart when it goes off?”
“Uh…” I mutter.  “I’ve never heard of them.”
She shrugs.  “Anyways, we probably don’t want to be too close to here when they come hunting.  Don’t want to be blamed for killing a plastic doll, do we?”  She grins mischievously.
I smile.  “True.  So, Thataway, full sail!”  I gesture in the direction behind the gallows.
She giggles and leads the way.
We participate in the investigation of the blood trail and everything, but we don’t take leading roles.  Three cuckoo clocks I hadn’t noticed before attack the Agents as they travel down the path, each time eliciting high-pitched screams and long jumps.
Especially when the last one turns out to be three times the size of the others, with a red…  shape coming out to the sound of a loose spring.  Every time an Agent walks past, it invariably bursts out and smacks them.
Except for us, because she points out the trigger- a thread strewn across the path- to me.  We just step over it, while they try to figure out why it keeps hitting them- even when they try to time it.
I missed it the first time through because I didn’t follow right next to the trail; rather, I followed it visually, taking high ground so I could see where it went faster.  They weren’t smart enough to do that, so by the time they reached the doll, it was as limp as spaghetti with a large pile of red paint under it.
I have my suspicions.  I may be able to confirm them tonight.
> Chapter 2:  The Hidden World
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

I return to the ship early for my evening meal.  She is not here, but I expected that.  Only the mission commander stays aboard ship.
The transit duty officer returns for me after my meal, taking me back to the island shortly before everypony else heads in for dinner.
I scan the crowd.  Just like all the other times, she is nowhere to be seen.  I take a minute to look for her, but find nothing.
So I pick a spot on the mountainside to lie down and watch.  To wait.
Nothing happens.
I let out a sigh.  This mission is exactly what I thought it would be:  Exile.  Command may not see it as that, but that’s what it is.  I’ve been here for four entire days now, but the only things anypony has found were clearly planted.
Time passes.  The sun goes down, relegating everything to the dimness of the moon, just barely peeking in between the clouds.
She’s almost certainly not an Agent; she avoided the headcount, reappearing after they finished.  After they found that nopony was missing.
So I wonder to myself.  Who is she?  Is she a hitchhiker on that ship?  A private detective teleporting from another ship?
Another Agent teleporting from another ship?
I don’t know.
A youth settles down next to me, around my age.  I glance briefly; it’s her.
She smiles at me.  “Fancy seeing somepony still around this late.”
“What about yourself?”
She looks away.  “I never leave.”
This draws my attention; I turn to face her.  “Why?”
“I never need to.”
Silence holds for several seconds.
“You’re not an Agent, then.”
She turns back towards me.  “Is that what everypony is looking for?”
I shake my head.  It is confirmed, she’s not an Agent.  I look back down at the village.  “No.  That’s what everypony is.”
“Including yourself.”
“Yes.”
“So…  What is everypony looking for?”
I trace the paint trail with my eyes, all the way to the gallows.  “Clues.”
She remains silent for almost a full minute.  “What for?”
“What happened.”
She looks away.  I look towards her, follow her gaze.
“There’s…” she pauses.  “That beach might have what you’re looking for.”
That beach is empty.  I’ve scanned it before; there’s nothing to find, only the uniform sand.  “It’s empty.”
“The water is not.”
“Sounds like I have work to do.”
Neither of us move.
Silence holds for several minutes.
“Why have you been looking with us?” I ask.
“I get bored.”
“How have you not gotten caught?”
“I…  I watched for weeks before I started.  More and more ponies, of various ages, came to…  look.  Something about the charred remains of Ponyville seemed to fascinate them.  Yet while each one, on arrival, would look at the volcanic sand weird, not one would look into it any further.”
“Volcanic sand?”
She nods, prodding the black sand with a hoof.  “That’s what this is.  Rock, boiled into sponge, then crushed into sand.”
“Ahh.  Carry on.”
“The part that most amused me was that they would never refer to each other by name.  It was always ‘hey you’ or the like.
“Eventually, they had enough ponies looking that they almost never seemed to recognize each other when they asked.  So I tried going out myself.  I joined them as carefully as I could, and started looking.  It’s interesting what I’ve been able to learn from the blast marks, but nopony else seemed to care.
“Three days in, one of them asked me a question.  He wanted to know if I’d seen anything, so I told him the blast marks were interesting.  I think he spent the rest of the day staring at the wall.
“The next question was a couple weeks ago, where I sit during dinner.  I told him I sit wherever.
“The third question was just under a week ago.  He wanted to know if I wanted to ‘show the new kid around’.  That’s something they’ve been doing for each other, whenever a new one would show up- and I chose not to presume to know what it’s all about.  I said no.
“The ‘new kid’ they were referring to turned out to be you.  You were the first to notice the cuckoo clock I’ve been moving around town for weeks- so I thought maybe, just maybe, somepony smart enough to actually find something had arrived.”
Silence holds for another couple minutes.
“Ponyville?” I ask.
“That’s what the village was called, before…  Before it happened.”
I look at her.  It almost sounds to me like she knows what happened- possibly even saw it.
I chose not to ask about it.  That could scare her away.



It’s been a few hours.  We spent a little more time chatting, but now she’s gone off somewhere.  I stopped by the supply container on the way to that beach, pulling out a diving set.  Now, I’m just about ready to enter the water when she shows up.  She smiles at me.
“This might help with the search,” she states, offering me something.  I can’t see what it is, but I take it anyways, and thank her for it.
Then I head underwater.
Blackness.  I can’t see anything down here at night.
Then her thing does something.  Light blasts out of it, and suddenly, I can see for miles.
She’s right.  There is something here.
It looks like a few dozen shipwrecks.  Badly burned, fragmented in some cases.  All sunken.
I swim around it, drawing air from the magic snorkel I got from the kit.  I swim down, searching for clues.  Her light thing seems to move itself, shining wherever I look; it’s rather convenient.
I explore.
“Find anything?”
I whirl around in the water.  There she is, a hundred feet underwater, with no gear at all, save that strange metal thing on her back.
I raise an eyebrow.  I can’t speak with this snorkel in my mouth- not that I can speak underwater anyways.
Somehow, she doesn’t have that same restriction.  She giggles, no snorkel in sight.  “Well, you’ve been down here for a few hours, so I figured you might have.”
My eyes go wide, and I briefly remove the snorkel from my mouth, checking the indicator on the side.  Or, more accurately, the crystal storing the magic to power it.
It’s empty.
I’m probably living on the last scraps of magic it has right now.
I stick it back in my mouth, and swim for the surface.
It runs out, and stops working, before I make the surface.  I’m close enough, though, that I’m able to break the surface before I run out of my final breath.
Her head pops out of the water while I’m gasping for air.  “Run out or something?”
“Blasted thing always runs out.  And it’s the only one.  Unless you know how to recharge it?”
“Nope.  I don’t know how the things they put in that chest work- only that they’re all useless to me.”
“Ahh.  Whelp, I guess that’s me done here, unless you’ve got more of…  whatever you’re using.”
Her grin does not belong anywhere near an Agent, let alone directed towards one.  “I’ve got plenty.  And, so long as we stay near the island, they’ll never run out!”  She snatches the light thing out of the water between us.  “Not unlike this thing I normally don’t use.”
“Yep!  The Depth Striders have lights on them too, so I never really need a Sea Lantern.”
“Ahh.”
“So, you go get rid of…  whatever that is, and I’ll go fetch another Depth Strider for you?”
“Works for me.”



She meets me without it, at the beach, once I dispose of the scuba gear.  “Ready?”
“Yes…  where are they?”
“In the water.  They’re a bit heavy on land.”
She leads the way into the water.
We simply…  walk in.  All the way up to our heads.  She doesn’t stop, so I follow.
Something touches my back, right about at the point when I start floating off the bottom.  I let out a little yelp and twist to try and see it; she’s still in front of me.
Then, the water is suddenly comfortable.  It’s still cold, and I can feel that, but it’s also comfortable at the same time.
She looks back at me.  “Oh.  Sorry, I forgot to warn you- that’s the Depth Strider.”
I duck my head underwater, twisting to look…  Yep, it’s one of her things, attached to my back.  I lift my head back above the water’s surface, looking for her.  “So…  how do I use it?”
“Just…  move.”  She demonstrates, slicing through the water so quickly she throws two waves off to her sides.
I try.  It’s…  unnerving, I think.  All it takes is a thought, and I’m sliding through the water as if it wasn’t there.
I stop, and turn to her again.  “Oh...kay.  Um, how about that talking underwater thing you did earlier?”
“That?  Oh, that’s automatic.  While you’re wearing it, water and air are one and the same.”
I raise an eyebrow, take a deep breath, and stick my head under again.  I try saying something.
My vision is clouded by the large bubbles coming out of my mouth, but the oration is clearly audible anyways.  I take a breath-
And freeze.  I just took a breath of ocean water, and it felt like a normal breath of air.
She zips up in front of me, underwater, and blows a stream of bubbles into my face.  Then she starts laughing.
I eventually start laughing as well.  She did demonstrate it for me earlier, after all.  Why am I doubting it?
Once we finish giggling, we both speed down into the ships.  Which are visible even without the…  she called it a Sea Lantern, right?
Her Depth Striders look like metal saddles with short, leg-length fins sticking out the sides.  She has assured me that these fins can fold down against our sides at will, but we lose much of our mobility when we do that.  Turns out there’s also several lights on those same fins.  They’re not as bright as the Sea Lantern, but they spread more- and shine further.
So we explore the ships.



As it turns out, she’s never explored these ships before.  She’s always left them be, never needed to look.  As a direct result, we discover many treasure chests filled with gold.  We find barrels and barrels of alcohol, we find…
“Pirates,” I finally state.  “These are pirate ships.”
“Two hundred pirate ships?”
“Two hundred?  There can’t be more than sixty or so here.”
“Fifty-five.  But that’s because a hundred and forty four never made it to the shore, and one was blown to bits after it landed.”
“Do we know where the remains of the other ships are?”
“Most of them.  Six- including that one- were blown to bits, all the rest sank.  This way.”
She leads me out to sea.  Way out to sea, where we find piles and piles of sunken ships and treasure.



We’re in the middle of exploring these when she suddenly looks up, towards the surface.  Towards the island.
“Oh?” I ask.  “What is it?”
“It’s them.  I can feel them, returning to the island.  Teleporting, I think they call it.”
“Dayshift, then.  I don’t have to go back until tonight, though I probably should beforehoof.”
“Oh?  Why?”
“For one, I’m going to need breakfast.  For two, if I do, I can get permission to stay out all the time.”
“Sounds like a pain.”
“It is a pain.  Anyways, I’ve been wondering…  how far can these Depth Striders go?”
“For as long as they have power.  They’ve got onboard capacity for about ten minutes.  So long as we’re within about three miles of the transmitter, back at the island, they won’t be using that onboard capacity, resulting in an effectively indefinite endurance.”
“Uh…  I’m going to pretend that made sense.  So, ten minutes, but that doesn’t start counting until we get too far from the island?”
“Yep.  Said ‘too far’ is marked, on the seafloor- wanna come see?”
“Sure!”
She then leads me out to sea.  Some three or four times as far as the furthest wreck.
There, on the bottom of the ocean, is a picket fence.  She stops at it.
I stop next to her.  “I wonder how much it’d cost to build a fence like this that broke surface.”
She looks up.  “Considering we’re about half a mile underwater right now, probably a lot.  Especially if it’s going to be stopping ships.  Wait…”  She zips along the fence.
I follow.
To where a ship’s anchor is lodged firmly in the metal fence, the chain hanging upwards, to…
Yes, that does look like a ship up there.
“Well hello,” she states, and starts racing up the chain.  “Who’s this?”
As we rise, we turn off our lights.
She…  lands, for the lack of a better term, on the bottom of the ship.  “Huh.  Decent-sized ship, don’t you think?”
I look across it, moving to the side.  “Yep.  I’m thinking it looks familiar, too.”
“Oh?” she asks.  “Maybe-  Oh.”  She looks suddenly up into the ship.  “Yep, it’s your ship.  I didn’t think it was this close.  Meh- the automatics won’t start shooting at it unless it gets a mile closer to the island.”
“Wow.”
We return to the shipwrecks, and continue exploring them.
She seems to be enjoying the search just as much as I am.
We agree to avoid bringing anything to the surface until after all the other Agents go back to the ship for the night.



So, before too long, I find myself back on the ship.  I eat my breakfast, tell the mission commander what I found under the water.  He immediately approves me to work on my own schedule, hooves me a field promotion, and sends both the promotion paperwork and an order for more snorkels back to base.



Overall, hardly an hour passes before I’m back on the island.  She’s waiting for me at the jump site.  I wait until we’re underwater again before I give her the news- and we share a hoofclap before returning to our exploration.
“I think…” she begins, eventually.  “Maybe tonight, if you don’t mind, I can show you what happened.  How Ponyville fell.”
“That include whatever disaster covered the place in volcanic sand?”
“No.  That’s how Ponyville’s attackers fell- and I really hope nopony sees that ever again.”
“Why?”
She only shakes her head.
> Chapter 3:  The Secret Hotel
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Some time later, I’m really tired, and she’s yawning.  I don’t know how much time has passed, but I figure it’s enough.  We’ve gotten a huge amount of the treasure moved from the deep sea wrecks, after fully exploring and searching the same.  It’s waiting in chests, barrels, and just about anything else we’ve been able to find to contain it, all just off the shore, next to the close-in wrecks.
This includes three chests full of clay or stone tablet records.  Unfortunately, after all this time, any and all scrolls have disintegrated.
That hasn’t stopped us from amassing a good-sized collection of pirate flags- especially once I mentioned that, if I send them back to base, they will probably be able to identify the specific pirates involved in the attack- and, potentially, find a pattern large enough to predict the locations of additional pirate bases.
After which, of course, Equestria would launch antipiracy attacks against those locations.
That’s the part she’s most excited about.  As a matter of fact, she’s suggested donating entire ships to that effort, even though there are no ships in evidence anywhere near the island.  When I mentioned that little issue, she grinned, but didn’t say anything, so I let it drop.
She pauses after her yawn, and looks up towards the surface.  “They’re headed back to the ship.”
“Really?  It’s that late already?”
She turns towards me, giggling.  “Yep!  And that means we’ve been up for, what, forty hours?”
“Eh, thereabouts.”
“Which means we should probably sleep sometime.”
“But if I do that, I won’t be able to come back down here until tomorrow.”
“You know that Depth Strider will come to you anytime you want it, right?”
“Uh, no?”
“Meaning, you can just jump off the ship, wish for it, and receive.”
“What if one of them does?”
“Nothing.  They’re not in the IFF- it won’t respond to them even if they balance it on their back.”
“Speaking of which, how does it stay on?”
“It’s…  a little bit of complicated technology.  It forms an energy bond with your spine, locks itself to that.  That same bond serves as a channel for control information- and it’ll never make that bond for anypony not in the IFF.”
“So…  who’s in the IFF?”
“Us.”
“...  and who can change that?”
“Me.”
“Okay.”
“And you don’t have to go to the ship to sleep anyways.”
“Really?”
“Yep!  There’s beds in a few of these ships.  If you prefer something a little less slimy, the coral reef on the other side of the island makes a nice bed.  If you prefer the weight of a blanket, I’ve got regular beds up in the island itself.”
“You live here, don’t you?”
“Yep!”
I select the regular bed.
She shows me to an underwater entrance.  It’s an upwards-slanted tunnel that we walk up- or, before we reach the water’s surface, zip up.  As we emerge from it, the Depth Strider things- she’s right, they are heavy- jump off our backs to stick to the ceiling with a sharp clang.
“That’s magnetic.  It’ll give them back, on cables, when we leave.”
“What happens if they don’t unlock from us properly?”
“The magnets aren’t strong enough to lift us.  Besides, we made them with the Elements- it’s impossible for them to hurt us.”  She snickers.  “The same is not true for anypony that isn’t in the IFF.”
“The Elements?  You mean, the Elements of Harmony?”
“Uh, maybe?  We called them the Elements of Creation, but they might be the same.”
“So, Magic, Loyalty, Generosity, Kindness, Honesty, and Laughter?”
“Definitely a different set, then.  Ingenuity, Acoustics, Aesthetics, Safety, Experience, and Change.  The first one’s mine- but the rest…  Well, they disassociated when the bearers died.”
“I…  I’m sorry.”
“Don’t worry yourself over it.  That was three years ago; I’ve moved on.”
“Ahh.”
“Speaking of which, I was planning on showing you tonight, wasn’t I?  Eh, maybe tomorrow night.  After I introduce you to the Sky Stalkers- they’ll make it much easier.”
“Alright, whatever you say.”
As it turns out, this entrance seems to be like a mini-hotel:  There’s the entranceway with the big machine to hold onto our Depth Striders, then there’s seven little bedrooms reaching off of it.  Six of them have unfamiliar symbols over the doors and no knobs; the last is a regular door with doorknob.
All closed.
“Uh, so which one?”
She points a hoof at the one with the knob.  “You can take the guest room.  Unless you want to see if one of the others will let you in, that is.”  She gestures towards the one with the yellow lightning bolt crossing through a strange, oblong circular object with screw threads at one end over it.  “This one’s mine.”
“If one of the others will let me in?”
“Yes.  This location was primarily designed as a private recluse for the Element Bearers of Creation.  Each of these doors, save the guest room, is locked to the bearer of that particular Element.  Though, if I actually go get my Element, I can open any of them with impunity, but who’s counting?”
“Eh.  I’ll just take the guest room for now, try the others later.”
“Have a good night!”
“You too.”
She walks straight through the door to her room.  The symbol above it starts glowing gently.
I blink, hoof inches from the handle of the guest room door.
My curiosity gets the better of me.  I can sleep later.
I move to the door next to the guest room, stick my hoof against it.
Solid.
I move to the next door, stick my hoof against it.
Nothing.
And repeat.
Solid.
Solid.
Solid.
I’m careful to be slow with her door- I don’t want her to think I’m knocking.
Solid.
I return to that second door.  Stick my hoof against it.
Nothing.
My hoof goes right through it, like it wasn’t even there.
I move closer.  Push further.
Still nothing.
Even closer.  All the way to my shoulder.
Nothing.
I slowly, carefully push my head through it, nose first.
Nothing.  Then…
I’m on the other side.
Well…  my head is.  It’s a nice, comfortable little room.  Perfect for me, I think.  I step the rest of the way through the door, look back at it.  Put my hoof against it.
It passes right through.
I turn back away from the door, walk away from it.  Examine the room.  Every little inch.
It’s almost like it was made just for me.  The only thing it’s missing is a filing cabinet to store copies of all my Agency reports.
Then I climb into bed.  It’s a really nice bed.
I fall asleep quickly.



I awaken slowly.
I’ve never slept this well before.  Especially out at sea- the rocking of the ship always keeps me up for half the night.
I snuggle gently deeper into the mattress.  It’s so…
My eyes snap open.  How long was I out?
I leap out of bed.  Funny, my mane and tail look like I just brushed them, rather than the clouds of bedmane I’m used to.
Convenient.
I run to the door, and freeze before I reach it.  Right, I walked through a stone door last night.  I pray it wasn’t a fluke, and put my hoof against it.
It passes through.
I step through it once again, emerge completely.  Look around the room.
The symbol over her door has stopped glowing.  I glance at the machine holding our Depth Striders; one of them is gone.  She must have already left.
I look at it for a second, then walk under it, to the angled tunnel out.  It moves as I pass, and something touches my back.  A quick glance confirms it’s the Depth Strider.
It’s in an uncomfortable position.  I’ll have to shed it and reposition it once I get into the water.
Then I reach the water, and find that unnecessary.  As soon as it’s covered in water, it adjusts itself, returning to the fleeting almost-there feeling of before.
I propel myself out of the tunnel, moving rapidly around the island to the shipwrecks.  I check both sites, without finding her.  So I move to shore, shedding the Depth Strider as I emerge onto the beach.
It’s about in the middle of the day; I slept in a lot.
I climb the hill, look down at the village, where all the Agents are working.  Scan across it; maybe she’s playing with them again.
She’s not.  She might have been, but she’s not.  She’s laying on her side on the sand, blood trickling out from multiple wounds, mostly on her head.
It’s him.  The Agent she angered.  I can only watch as he stomps on her head again.
He doesn’t get another stroke.  I did that watching while I ran; I deliver a flying kick to the side of his head.
He stumbles away, recovers from the blow while I check her pulse.
She’s still alive.  For how long, I don’t know.
I return my attention to him just as he starts coming at me again.  I dodge to the side, kick at his knee.  He sees it coming, and my kick falls on empty air.
He swings before I’m able to recover from mine, and connects.  I’m thrown off to the side; one of my ribs is aching from that blow.  I think he cracked it.
I move faster.  Pull his attention away from her, open the playing field.  I’m getting the better of him.  He’s stronger, but I’m faster.  I’m winning.
Then another Agent joins the fray, on his side.  And a third.
Suddenly, I’m losing.  I need to flee- but I can’t without her.  If I could fly, that wouldn’t be a problem.  I trade a couple more blows.  Pretty sure that rib is fully broken now, not just cracked.  It’s not a floating rib, so I’m not dead yet.
I am forced to block a heavy swing; I cannot dodge it.
My right foreleg breaks, and I am thrown backwards.  I land next to her, struggle back upright.  Snarl at them.
They snarl back, begin to advance.
Something touches my back.  Very suddenly, I feel as light as a feather.
I move forwards and upwards, aiming a two-hoof midair buck right into one of their faces.  As soon as it connects, I rocket straight upwards, twist around, and pound down on the next one’s head.  I’m way off to the side before the last one can swing at me, then right back in his face with a similar kick.
He joins the other two in their dirt naps.
I land next to her, check her pulse again.
She’s still alive, but she’s fading.  She doesn’t have long.
I glance up at the island.  Several Agents are advancing, with hostile looks.
I grab her, leap into the air once more.  Race for the ship.
I have to save her.
As I go, I glance at my back.
It’s not a Depth Strider, but it doesn’t look that much different from one.
Must be the airborne version of it.
There’s the ship.  I land swiftly on the deck.  All three transit unicorns are sitting on the deck, breathing heavily.
One of them looks up at me as I land.  “What the-?  How?”
I don’t answer.  “She’s dying.”
Good thing two of those transit unicorns double as the assigned medical staff for the mission.  They gallop over, accept her in their magic.  “We’ll see you in the medbay.”  They teleport away.
I look up at the last one.  “Who else is aboard?”
“Only the Commander.  We fled when everypony started ganging up on you.”
“How many of them can teleport out here themselves?”
“None.”
“Good, thank you.”
“I’m going to have to go back for them at some point, though.”
“Do you want to?”
“I wish I could leave ‘em all.”
“Me too.  I’ll talk to the Commander after I deal with things in the Medbay, see if I can get that authorized.”
“Roger that!”
I gallop for the door.  The fins on my…  thing fold, just like the Depth Striders’ do, allowing me to fit through the door and down the narrow passage.



I reach the medbay in record time.  The two doctors are discussing something at the foot of her bed; there’s a shimmering film of gold energy covering her.  One of them turns to me, opens his mouth to speak.
“Is she okay?” I ask.
He shakes his head.  “We don’t have the facilities- or training- to help her here.  We’ve got her under stasis, so she can safely be transferred to a regular hospital- and soon.”  He sighs.  “They’re going to have to pull one of you off the mission.”
I shake my head.  “She’s a non-Agent.”
“What?”
“She’s a native.  She knows what happened- and was going to show me tonight.”
“Ahh.  I’ve got the paperwork here, then- you go to the Commander.  You’re going to have to seek retroactive permission.”
“Forgiveness.”
“Same thing.”
I return to the passage, head for the mission commander’s cabin.  If they’ve put her in stasis, she’ll last many times as long as she might otherwise.
But not forever.



I knock on the mission commander’s door.
“Come in.”
I enter.  “Sir.  I come seeking retroactive authorization to take an injured native aboard.”
“There’s natives here?”
“Just the one, Sir.  She knows what happened, but has been injured by the actions of other Agents in the field.”
“Granted.  Where is she?”
“In the medbay, Sir.  The Medics have placed her in stasis to preserve her life.”
“How long do we have?”
“He said we’d have to transfer her soon.”
“We can’t do that.  It’ll be a month before the next boat arrives.”
“Then she’s…”
“I’m afraid she may be a lost cause.  In any case, what are you wearing?”
I glance back at it.  “I’m not sure what it’s called.  It’s some of her technology; she keyed it to me as well.  It lets me fly as I like, near the island.”
“And the defenses won’t shoot you down?”
“They will not, Sir.  I have reason to believe they will still engage ponies she hasn’t authorized.”
“Ahh.  How far can it go?”
“The ship is just inside the range at which it works indefinitely; much further, and it is limited.  A water-based one she showed me earlier, called the Depth Strider, has an independent endurance of ten minutes.”
“Water-based?”
“Yes.  The Depth Strider lets me move through water- including breathing it- as freely as a pegasus might fly through air.  It, also, is keyed.”
“How are they keyed?”
“I do not know.  She said something about ‘in the IFF’, if that means anything to you.”
“Do you know what else you might have access to?”
“No Sir.  She has indicated it will come when I wish for it.”
“Try wishing for transport to the mainland, then.  And do it on deck.”
“Roger.”
“Do you have any details on the attack she was injured by?”
“Perpetrated by Bruiser.  All the other Agents, save the transit duty Agents, came to his aid when I acted to protect her.”
“And the Transit Agents?”
“Fled back to the ship to avoid the violence.”
“Probably helped expedite her acquisition into the medbay, didn’t it?”
“Affirmative.”
“And I bet they want to leave all those Agents on the island.”
“Yes Sir.”
“As much as I’d love to, I’m afraid I can’t approve that.  By Agency decree, abandonment of assigned Agents requires the votes of three quarters or six of the abandoning Agents, whichever is greater.  While I’m sure everypony aboard this ship would agree, that only amounts to five.  I pray you are able to find something to carry you two- and, possibly, one or both of our medics- back to the mainland before I am required to order the Transit Agents to return to duty.”
> Chapter 4:  The Hospital Expedition
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Anything?”
It’s the mission commander, coming up to the deck to meet me.  It’s been twenty minutes, but I’ve only been up here for ten; I stopped by the medbay again for bone repair before heading up.
“No.  I’ve been wishing with all my might for something, but nothing came.”
“Maybe there is nothing to come.”
“Maybe it’s too much to ask for her to have a boat.  Or, Celestia forbid, an entire ship, I know that’d be nice.  She has only revealed small items so far, like the Depth Striders.”
“And that thing.”
“And this thing.  It doesn’t look much different from a Depth Strider.”
“I wonder how agile it makes you.  Do you think you could fend off all those Agents with it, until another boat arrives?”
“Probably not…  Wait.”  I focus on the furrow I just noticed in the water.
He looks at it, and scowls.
The…  thing hops off my back, landing smoothly on the decking behind me, as I jump over the railing.  Pleading inside to find a Depth Strider waiting for me.
There isn’t.  I splash down hard, slicing into the water, and wait.
I wait for two seconds, before something touches my back…  and the water is like air.
I look towards the furrow.
And slam a foreleg into my face, before rising back up to the ladder and climbing back onto the ship, Depth Strider and all.
He blinks, looking at me.  It looks like I worried him.  “A Depth Strider?” he asks.
I nod.  “Heavy.”  I point to the growing furrow, and the leading wave that’s starting to appear.  “Guess what that is.”
“Some kind of invisible boat to take you to the mainland.”
“A ship, rising out of the water as it comes.”
“...  So, she does have a whole ship.”
“Or so it would seem, yes.”  The tip of the metal spire on the top of it sticks out of the water.
We watch.  It doesn’t take long before the shape of the deck is evident, water pouring off of it long before it reaches the water’s surface.
That tower is the first part to pierce the surface.  It’s a bit of a strange ship, with what looks like the cabin and everything in the middle, rather than at the ends.  It also has no sails whatsoever, and is made entirely of metal.
As it reaches the surface, it becomes rapidly evident that the deck is not flat, like ours.  Large, pipe-like structures, mounted on huge, flat-topped domes, pierce the water’s surface.  Huge, raised deck plates, set in a grid pattern, emerge just moments before the rest of the deck does.
Then the hull of the ship becomes visible, and it slowly stops rising, moving towards us.
Very suddenly, all the water seems to decide it wants off of the ship, leaving the deck dry.
We watch with open jaws as it slides easily forwards, through the water, until it stops next to us- at which point it drops an anchor with an audible splash.
“I…  I think we have our transport,” I state.
“I wonder what else she’s hiding on that island.”
I can only shrug.  “No clue.”



The transfer between ships went without a hitch, despite the fact that a teleport would disrupt the stasis spell.  It was fairly simple:  The medic coming with me teleported my Depth Strider over, while I put the flying one back on- interesting how it just hopped into the air for me- to carry her over myself.
Then we started looking for the sails.
That lasts for about one minute, before I facehoof.
“What?”  It’s the medic.
“It just came out to us on its own, and we’re looking for sails.”
“Oh.”
I close my eyes.  Wish it would take us to the mainland.
Nothing happens.
I…  On an idea, I picture a map of the coast in my mind.  Label all the cities and ports.  Mark the one I want it to land at with a red X.  Put that into my wish.
There’s a sudden clunk, and something starts sliding.  I open my eyes…  Oh.  The anchor is rising.
We take her below deck while it starts to move.
I stay with her.  Sit beside her, watch the stasis field oscillate.
My stomach growls, but I’m not hungry.
I want her to be safe.



Time passes.  I neither know nor care how much, only that the stasis field is steady.  And that night hasn’t fallen yet.
“I…  I don’t believe it.”
I glance up at the medic.  “What?”
“We’re here.”
“It’s a five-day journey.”
“Not for this thing, it would seem.  We’re approaching the docks.”
I rise from her side, look out the window.
He’s right.  We are approaching the docks.
I pick an empty space.
I understand instantly that it would not fit there.  It’s already selected the closest space in which it would fit, though.
One of the deep-sea docks, for massive cargo ships.  Nopony uses them anymore; while impressive, those ships spent most of their time idle.  Not one of them ever turned a profit, leaving these massive docks abandoned.
Then of course, there was the matter of how difficult the ships were to get in and out of the deep sea docks safely.  Each time, at least one ship sank.  Usually, it was the smaller one it had collided with, but a couple big rigs had sunk as well.
This ship doesn’t seem to have that problem.  It turns sideways as it approaches the dock, decelerating smoothly as it performs a feat no Equestrian ship could hope to accomplish:  Sliding sideways into the docks.
While I watch huge, metal ropes lashing out to latch onto the docking anchors, the medic picks her up again.  Within moments of the docking procedure reaching a smooth, pony- and damage-free conclusion, we’re down on the docks, heading for the hospital.



They can’t help her.  The doctors remind us that it’s not a case of the operation being to expensive; with the government stamp covering all the paperwork in ambiguity, cost is not a limiter.  Rather, they don’t have anypony with the experience to handle her condition.
Good thing they only had the stasis down for a few seconds.
Also a good thing the lobby attendant that happened to be in the room isn’t from the area.  According to her, there’s a little town, way out near the terrors of the Everfree Forest, where mending a fractured bone is an outpatient procedure- and a shattered bone takes only a day to repair completely.
Where both of the above are considered ‘minor ailments’.
Where the doctors are used to major, life-threatening injuries- with the result that, more often than not, they simply don’t need the stasis spell.
A little town, that deals with the biggest, deadliest injuries in Equestria.  Reportedly, they once had a pony lose an entire leg, and bleed out for almost a whole minute.  He walked out of the recovery room hardly a week later.
A little town, not Canterlot or Manehattan, with the best doctors in Equestria.
An older Agent might have called it quits.
But while the medic is playing the part of our father while we’re out in public, I’m the senior Agent.
So I order up a quick pegasus ride halfway across Equestria.  I use my government stamp of ambiguity again, and by the time Celestia lowers her sun, we’re landing in front of that small town hospital.
One more stroke of the stamp is all it takes to get her in.
I lock eyes with the desk attendant over the stamped paperwork.  For some reason, she seems hesitant to take it.
But before I can say anything, she nods.  “We’ll have Doctor Horse look at her as soon as he arrives.”
That’s the name of the best doctor in the hospital, according to that Manehattan hospital desk clerk.  “Thank you.”
Though I have to wonder why he would need to arrive.
I spot the clerk pushing a door slightly open.  Strain my ears, as she passes in the stamped paperwork.
“Hey, Redheart?  New patient, entrance lounge, filly under stasis.  Level seven.”
“Roger.  We’ll have her in…  A-3 in a minute.  Tenderheart, you’ve got the stretcher.  Sweetheart, the doctor.  I’ve got the patient.”
Two separate voices say “Roger” together.
Then the clerk pulls the door open for two nurses to emerge.  One heads straight for her, where she’s still floating in the medic’s magic.  The other heads for the doors and leaves the hospital.
…  Unless I miss my guess, that was a level of instant coordination that even the Agency often lacks.  Exactly why that one nurse left the building, though, I don’t know.
The nurse that’s coming to us glances up at the medic.  “How strong is the stasis?”
“Four hundred thirty seven,” he answers immediately.
She nods, and starts doing…  something.  I think she’s doing what tests she can, through the stasis field.
Thirty seconds after the two nurses emerged, everything seems to start moving.  The second nurse is returning into the hospital, a caramel-coated stallion following in her wake, a clipboard floating in his dark blue magic aura.
“... hope it’s just a C,” I hear him mutter, as he enters.
At the same time, the doors into the hospital proper open- and a third nurse walks in, pushing a stretcher…  with a doctor’s uniform and equipment slung over one corner.
The latter of this, the uniform, quickly finds itself teleported and/or slung into place on the caramel unicorn, whose horn glows gently as he peers at her, the stretcher moving underneath her.
“Eight Delta,” he declares, after only a moment’s examination.
If I thought they were moving before, I was wrong.  He and two of the three nurses disappear back through the swinging doors into the rest of the hospital so fast the wind holds them open for another second or two.
At the same time, the first nurse, the one that had been checking her temperature and who knows how many other things before the doctor arrived, steps towards us.
“Hello, my name is Nurse Redheart.  Her condition is dire, such that the more we know and the sooner we know it, the more likely she can make a full recovery.”
She’s not done, filling her lungs for what my Agent instincts recognize instantly as a question.
I’m faster.  I’m already talking.
“We don’t know her name, nor any medical info.  We found her on an island out at sea, where an unknown disaster occurred sometime in the past.”
I continue to tell her.  While I’m talking, she moves us to a small room off to the side, locking the door- but her attention never falters, and I never falter either.
I tell her everything.  I’m aware that much of it should be Agency secrets, but if it could help save her life, I’m willing to tell.
When I mention that I only saw the final blow, the medic immediately states he saw the whole thing.  We glance at each other, and I hop down on the floor, mimicking the position she had been in.
“It went like this.”  He then imitated what the other Agent had done, with only one difference- he pulled his punches.  While he performs the demonstration, I describe the assailant as best as I can.  Breed, color, weight, muscle, even manestyle.  I don’t know what they might find helpful.
As soon as that was done, I was back on the seat, telling her of what happened afterwards.
I describe the steadiness of the stasis spell on the ship.  Exactly what happened when they lowered it.  The questionability of the stasis on the second trip, with the pegasi.
In the end, I finally close with a fairly typical statement.
“That’s all we know.”
Only, it carries more truth than it usually ever does.  Not only did I tell her absolutely everything I knew, but the medic supplied what he had seen of her.  It wasn’t much, but it was something.
Nurse Redheart bows her head.  “Thank you.  She is in surgery right now; we will let you know as soon as we have news.”  She bows out of the room, closing the door behind her.
“How did she know-?” the medic begins.
“The clipboard.  It has two physical and eighteen telepathic entanglement runes on it.  She was undoubtedly in communication with the doctor or somepony else in the room.  Or both.”



We wait for what seems like forever.
At least, for what feels to me like forever.
And yet it’s also over too quickly.
It’s Redheart.
“The operation is complete.  Doctor Horse has invited you to come visit; we expect her to awaken shortly.”
We follow.  She continues talking as we go.
“The damage was…  severe.  Not as bad as it could have been; with what you showed me, she should have been killed twice over- even if she’d been an earth pony.  We worry some of the critical sectors of her brain may have been damaged- in particular, her speech center, her auditory center, her memory, and her general comprehension.  If we’re right, she may never walk, talk, or understand again.”
“That’s…”
“Terrible.  As near as we can tell, she’s got more thaumic potential than Celestia herself, as well.  Thank Celestia her thaumic control centers don’t seem to be damaged.”
The medic scowls.  “They’re not?”
“They are not.  For some reason, they’ve shown amazing resilience, compared to the surrounding parts of her brain.  It’s entirely possible that they instinctively self-protected, but failed to protect the rest.”
“Don’t ponies only have one?” I ask.
“Normally, yes.  She’s got several; some of them overlap, some of them don’t.  We’re attributing that to the isolation you mentioned from the rest of ponykind.”
We enter the room.
She’s lying on the bed, an oxygen mask covering her face.  Three of her legs are in casts; there’s a big one around her neck, and a frame of some sort around her middle, supporting another cast there.
The doctor looks up.  “Three legs crushed, the last broken.  Eight broken ribs, major damage to almost all of her internal organs.  Broken spine at the base of the neck, and again just below the skull.  Fractured skull, shattered jaw.  Major brain damage.
“She’s alive, but we don’t know for how long.  We won’t, until she wakes up…  or dies.”
“So she’s…”
“She’s on life support.  Even if she lives, she may never regain the ability to breathe on her own, or to eat.”
“She’s fading.”  It’s the nurse, next to the bed.
The doctor looks back.  “I’m afraid there’s nothing more we can do.”
> Chapter 5:  The Perfect Disaster
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

I spot a faint glow, reflecting off one of the metal tables.  It’s gold-colored, from around her forehead; that isn’t visible from my position.  The nurse gasps as it brightens, drawing the doctor’s attention.  He canters back up to the bed, just in time for the glow to amplify itself enormously.
The entire bed is shrouded in blinding golden light for a few seconds.  The doctor and nurse are both caught in the edges, and thrown rather violently away from the bed, just like all of their supplies that were caught close.
Just like some fragments of an oxygen mask, an IV stand with a severed hose, several shredded bandages, and a whole lot of feathers in varying states of disrepair, probably from the pillow.
Oh- there’s also the mattress fluff, and bits of the sheets.
Then the light goes down, and disappears.
Nopony moves as she drops slightly onto the bed spring, which seems to have survived intact.  Might help it’s made of metal, flexible, and all in the same general direction from the blast.
She’s completely free of any bandages, deformities, or visible injuries.
Then she moves.  It starts as a twitch, then she rolls over, and attempts to rise to her hooves.  One of them falls through the mesh of the spring, though, so she stops, pulls it out, looks at the edge…  and simply rolls off the bed.
Once off the bed, she lands on her back, rolls upright, stands up, and looks around.
She looks first at the nurse, then at the doctor.  As she turns, she seems to notice us- and turns to look at us as well.  Her expression is of confused unrecognition, as I might have expected, as her gaze passes over the medic.
Then she locks eyes with me.
Unlike the other three, she doesn’t move on.  Nothing happens for about half a second- then she charges forwards.
I might have dodged.  I probably would have dodged, had her expression not glued me in place.
She recognized me.
She’s happy to see me.
She slams into me with a crushing hug, opening her mouth to say something.
She’s interrupted by my pained exclamation.  I think she reinjured my rib.
Which isn’t too hard.  It was a standard bone repair spell; I should have been on bed rest for two days, then light duty for four.  In reality, it’s been about eight hours, and I most certainly have not been resting.
She gasps, releasing her impossible hold.  She might even have injured another rib- which my earth pony magic should have made impossible.  “You okay?”
“No, it’s- it’s fine.  Just a reinjury.”
“‘Just’ a broken rib.”  It’s the doctor.  “I can patch that up in about a minute.”
She looks back at me.  “What’s he saying?”
“Do you not understand what we’re saying?” I ask her.
“Kinda.  I understand you just fine, but not him.”
“We’re speaking the same language.”
“That’s…  strange.”
“Wait.”  It’s the medic.  “You can understand her?”
I look up at him.  “Yes?”
“But she’s…  it’s gibberish.”
I tilt my head, turn back to her.  Use Griffish, rather than Equestrian.  “Do you understand this?”
“Yes.  What’s the difference?”
Prench.  “It’s a different language.”
“All sounds the same to me.”
I look up; back to Equestrian.  “And nopony else understands her?”
Everypony shakes their head.
“Must be a two-way translation spell of some sort, then.  No clue when- or why- it was activated, though.”
“What’s a spell?”
“It’s a method by which a unicorn can use magic.”
“Unicorns can use magic?”
“Yes.  Haven’t you used magic?”
“I…  I don’t know.”
“You…  don’t know.”
“I…  I remember being excited about something.  Running for Experience.  I remember the path I was taking.
“I remember being attacked.  I remember thinking I would lose you.”  She resumes her hug, much gentler.  “I’m glad you’re alive.”
“You weren’t worried about yourself?”
“No.  I remember…  I remember knowing I’m immortal.”
“Wh…  what?”
“I remember knowing I’m immortal.  That if ever I’m killed, I’ll just…  regenerate.  I remember knowing it’s happened before.  I…
“I remember knowing what I have to do to…  remember.
“I don’t remember what that is.  Only that it’s related to Experience.”  She says it like it’s a tangible object.
“Related to…  Experience.”
“Yes.  I remember where Experience is.  I remember I was getting it for you.
“I remember knowing I would lose my memories.  I remember knowing I would forget how to talk, how to understand the spoken word.
“I remember knowing you would understand me anyways.  That I would understand you anyways.
“But that’s…  that’s all I remember.”
I look up at the medic.  “We need to go back to the island.”
He sighs.  “You know how hard that’s going to be.”
My ears go flat.  “Yes.  Yes, I do.”
“We can’t go?” she asks.
“We can’t go,” I confirm.
“Maybe I can learn what I can here, go later.”
“Even though that’ll make a lot of redundant memories?”
“I’m immortal.  Even if it takes a hundred years to get there, and I go through it a hundred times, it’s but a moment in my life.
“But it would be ten thousand years of good memories to look back on.”
“That…  That is true.”
I look up, in equal parts at the medic and the doctor.  “Can…  Can we get insertion into a local foster home, then?”
“Might be difficult,” the doctor states.  “You’d have to live in the orphanage for probably at least a few days, before somepony might consider adoption- and with your resources, convincing your chosen parents to adopt shouldn’t be a problem at all.  Even if you two go as a package deal- which I would recommend.”
“What’s he saying?”
“That it’ll be a long and annoying process, but we can.”
“What’s a foster home?”
“Uh…  a new home, since neither of us have a parent’s home to return to.”
“Ahh.”
“She asking what a foster home is?”  It’s the doctor.
“Yes.”
“Ahh.  I’m looking forward to seeing how she does in Magic Kindergarten.”
I look at the remains of the bed.  “Yeah…  me too.  Me too.”
“Wouldn’t it be better to get her back to the island?” the nurse asks, finally separating herself from the neighboring bed.  Not Redheart, she’s still standing unmoving behind us.
“Yes.  It seems there’s something she can do there that will restore her memories.”
“Uh…  and with that stamp…?”
“That stamp is for emergency use only.  Anything else has to be either pre-approved…  or out of my own resources.  They’ll never approve a trip right back the way we came, and I don’t begin to have the resources to go back to the coast on my own- let alone with company.”
“What about your company?”
“He’s a medic.  They’ll approve his travel anywhere in a heartbeat, but not with nonmedical company.  Like me.  Or her.”  I return her hug, gentling my right foreleg; I can feel the repaired bone trying to give way.



Going to the orphanage is exactly as confusing as I expected it to be.
It’s not that the staff are unreceptive, despite being late at night.  After the medic reinstigated that healing spell- unfortunately, I couldn’t justify using my stamp to cover my own medical expenses, so asking Doctor Horse to do it was out of the question, no matter how disappointed he was when I explained it- we had gone to the orphanage.  This time, the medic played the part of a bystander that rescued us from a monster attack, in which our parents were killed.
He presented us as relatives; stepsisters, to be exact.  He explained of some strange translation magic her mom had cast as he was arriving, allowing the two fillies to understand each other- but that the same thing didn’t seem to work for anypony else…  and that, since he doesn’t know what language she’s speaking, he can’t cast a useful translation spell.
Heh.  Handy that, with translation spells, the caster has to know both the languages involved.
And, since all Agents are trained in every known language…  Well, there’s only one reason he wouldn’t understand her:  She’s speaking an unknown language…  or legitimate gibberish that I’m somehow understanding as…
Come to think if it, it’s hard to put a hoof on exactly what language it sounds like she’s speaking.  It sounds like all of them…  yet none of them, at the same time.  And I simply never notice when she speaks, because it sounds normal.  Unless I’m thinking about it, she sounds exactly like she did at the island- where she spoke, without a doubt, plain Equestrian.
In any case, the issue actually came that it’s bedtime for all the fillies and colts in the orphanage right now.  The already overworked staff is caught between battling to get the excited children to bed and handling the paperwork to get us settled in.
That alone would have made it long and tiring.  All those other colts and fillies really want to meet us tonight, and won’t stop running right back out to try to do so.
I’m shooing the same pair of excited fillies back to bed for the eighteenth time- and they’re only one of many sets- when I realize they’re winning.  I haven’t been keeping them away from her, so there’s quite the crowd vying for her attention.  I sigh, and fill my lungs to order them to bed- before I pause.
The most recent winner for her attention has given her a cello…  and to be honest, I’m curious.  She’s assumed the appropriate playing stance.
She places the bow against the strings.
The crowd ooohs.  One of the staff members opens her mouth to speak.
Then she starts moving it.  She changes notes, and keeps going.
She’s playing a song.
She…  she makes a great musician.
She stops after a couple bars, glancing at the surrounding fillies.  She’s met by a chorus of “Aaaw!” and lowered ears.
She smiles, then glances up at me, and winks.
I raise one eyebrow.
“That was nice,” one of the staff members begins.  He doesn’t get to finish.
She put the bow to the instrument again, joining it with her voice.  Not words, just…
Music.
It’s…  it’s…



I awaken quickly, with a sharp breath.  Then…
She lowers her hoof from my shoulder, smiling.  “It worked,” she states simply.  She looks back the other way.  “They’re all asleep.”  Then she glances behind me.  “So are the…  uh, grownups.”
I nod.  “Ahh…  you have an amazing voice.”
She smiles.  “Thanks.  I…  I thought I could help.”
“You’re welcome- and thank you.  Now we just need to wake the staff back up.”
She chuckles.  “I wish I knew how to limit the effect to the target audience.”
“Wish you knew how?  Pretty sure it’s impossible.”
“That which is impossible today is merely a stepping stone on our path to the future.”
“You sure about that?”
“Can you imagine how boring it would be to not invent a directional instrument in umpteen bazillion years?”
“...  Right.  Probably don’t want to tell them about that.”
“Oh, don’t worry, I won’t.  They don’t have a clue what I’m saying, remember?”
“Most of them, at least.  Neither of us did anything special for me to understand you- and neither of us understand how it works, right now at least.  It’s at least theoretically possible we’ll run into somepony else that can also understand.”
“True.”
It’s then a fairly simple matter of awakening the staff, and letting them carry the sleeping colts and fillies up into their rooms.
That finished, we were able to work on our paperwork and get everything processed.
Of course, there’s only one problem.
She, well…
“I don’t remember my name.”
“You…  don’t remember.”
“I know I have one, but I don’t remember it.”
She doesn’t remember her name.
We communicated the problem to the staff, told them of her amnesia.  Told her it’s known to be temporary.
So she’s in the system simply as my sister, no name.  She won’t understand a word they say, nor vice versa, so it’ll work.  For now, at least.
So, with that finally over with, we settle in.  No luggage or anything for either of us, just a shared room.  I asked her- in Germane, so they wouldn’t understand- if that was okay; she said she didn’t see why it wouldn’t be.
So, we go to bed.
…  It’s not nearly as comfortable as that bed under the island.
But she offered, and I couldn’t resist, so we’re both in the same bed.
It…  It makes up for it.  Don’t ask how, because I don’t know, but she makes up for it, somehow.
…  makes me wonder what it would be like if the bed was like the ones under the island.
Probably…  It’d probably feel like I was sleeping with a goddess.
Which isn’t that far off even now, come to think of it; if she’s right, and she actually is immortal, she’s one of select few to be able to claim that.  There are only two other ponies in Equestria to be immortal- well, three, if you count the one that isn’t in Equestria.
Princesses Celestia and Cadence, plus to my understanding, Nightmare Moon is the corrupted form of Celestia’s sister princess.
I’m not looking forward to that; we have yet to find the Elements of Harmony- despite searching the Everfree and their last rumored location, the Castle of the Two Sisters, many times.
That’s perhaps the biggest reason we’re investigating that island, trying to find out what happened- especially if it’s repeatable.  Without the Elements, we may have to resort to a weapon of that scale to subdue the Nightmare long enough for Celestia to cast her carefully crafted cleansing spell.
And hope it works.
She snuggles closer, already asleep, digging her head into my neck and chest.  Her horn is, blessedly, not between us; she’s instinctively turned her head just far enough that it’s lying against the side of my neck instead.
I smile, hug her back, and fall asleep.
> Chapter 6:  Accelerated Awakening
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

I dreamt of a crown.  A golden crown, with a beautiful, golden yellow jewel displayed proudly right in the middle, just behind my horn.

I stood, staring at it in a mirror, for about fifteen minutes.


That was the entire dream.

I don’t know why.

Maybe I’d understand if I found the crown, wore it in reality.

It wasn’t the only dream I had, but it was the most confusing one.

The rest were more active.

In one, I counted, starting at zero, onwards.  I wrote each number in sequence on an infinite strip of parchment that was slowly sliding past, sounded them out while I was at it.  When I reached two hundred, I started counting by hundreds.

Then by thousands.

Ten thousands.

And so on.  I think I reached a few quintillion- a lot of zeroes- by the time the dream ended.

In another, there was a clock.  It wasn’t ticking; I was pushing the minute hand in circles, stopping in five-minute increments to tell the time, starting with midnight.

After a couple revolutions of the hour hand, I finished with midnight again- then the clock face split open and a little bird jumped out.

Cuck-koo!

It disappeared back in, but I woke up before it could come back.


We must have moved in our sleep.  We’re hugging up against each other.

I lean back slightly, to get a view of her face.

She’s…  Yep, she’s still in a deep sleep.  Her gentle smile looks genuine, though; exactly as I figured, we both enjoyed sleeping together.

But a morning is a morning, and there is exploring to do.

I still have to figure out what an orphanage is, beyond someplace we and lots of others our age can sleep, after all- and I’d rather not wake her up if I don’t have to.  I slip carefully out of her grip, precisely adjust the covers, and slip out of bed.  The first traces of sunlight are just coming in the window, so it’s not in the middle of the night; as a matter of fact, judging by how the light in that dream with the clock changed when I moved the hands, it’s about five thirty in the morning.

I make my way quietly out of the room, closing the door behind me.

Then I look both ways down the passage.  Nothing draws my attention, so I figure I’ll just start with the entrance and go from there, and set off.

A clock mounted on the wall in the next hallway informs me it’s actually five twenty five in the morning.

Meh, close enough.

I find the entranceway.

I start my search.

I find a lounge.

I find a dining room- though ‘mess hall’ fits it better.  There’s lots and lots of chairs on either side of two long tables.

I find a…  I’m not sure what it’s called.  The carpet is too thick for my liking, the colors too bright- and there are toys everywhere.  I move on.

I find an auditorium.

I find a music studio.  There’s several instruments staged around it, most with little white labels stuck to them.  The instrument that grey filly gave me yesterday is among them.

I smile; I really enjoyed playing last night.  Even though I did it explicitly to get everypony to fall asleep.

I wander back over to that instrument, pick up the stick that goes with it.  Put it to the instrument.

And put it back down.  My goal is not to wake anypony up, nor put them to sleep- just to enjoy the music.  This instrument has a deep voice, excellent for both of the above…  but not for just leaving them be.

So I navigate the room, plucking at the occasional instrument.  There’s a few that are air-based; somehow, I know those can be very loud, so I don’t even try them.  The stringed ones I test, though.

There’s one that looks similar to the one she gave me, though it has more strings and no long stick.  It also seems to be designed to hang off my shoulders while I play, rather than resting on the ground.

Its voice isn’t as deep, but it is…  electrifying, I believe.  Another nice instrument, but it’ll also be great for waking everypony up.  So I move on.

Then I find another one.  It’s shaped somewhat like the bottom of my hoof, tip down, but much larger.  It’s got hundreds of strings, suspended vertically in that space.  It’s also gold-colored, like that crown I dreamt of.

I pluck a string.

It has a nice, gentle voice.  I could easily use it to put ponies to sleep, but it’s just strong enough it’s not hard to avoid doing that.  It won’t be accidentally waking ponies up, either.

So I position myself, pluck a few more strings.  Close my eyes, get a feel for it, and…  play.

It’s what I did last night.  It’s what I’m doing now.

What comes out is music.  I neither know nor care where it’s coming from.

Before long, I start singing along with my song.

Songs.  Even when one song ends, I just keep going, blend into the next.  I could do this all day.

I ignore the growling of my stomach.  I can deal with it later.

Once she wakes up.

Something tingles on my flanks.  It goes away when I twitch my rump, so I don’t worry about it.

Nothing matters, really, until she wakes up.


Correction:  There is something that matters before she wakes up.  I notice when some of the adults walk in, one at a time.  I don’t stop playing; they don’t try to stop me, so I have no reason to.

Seeing them sip from their cups in sequential order, though, is amusing.

After a song or so, they leave.  I continue playing.

As I play, I hear them opening doors.  Waking ponies up.

Lots of them seem to be complaining.  Some are having difficulty waking up.

They’re going through the rooms methodically, waking up every little filly and colt.  Which includes my friend, Bonbon.  That’s the name she put on the paperwork last night.

The adults seem agitated somehow.  I don’t know what it’s all about; Bonbon is still sound asleep.

I catch a mention of the time- sounds just like it did in that dream- followed immediately by an almost-yelp from another.

Are they trying to wake everypony up?

I…  I think they are.

I’m at the end of this song anyways.  I let it finish, and abandon the instrument.  Return to the one I used last night.  Lift the stick thing, put it to the instrument.

I start out gentle, basically just vibrating against the instrument on a low note as I get a feel for it once again.

Then I change notes, and go on it harder.

It’s music.

Seconds after I hit the first stronger note, I feel a tremor through the building as many, many small hooves hit the ground, leaping from their beds.

It worked; I woke them up.

I hear several doors open simultaneously- and every one of them, including the groggy ones headed to the mess hall, make the same utteration.

I don’t understand it- and Bonbon hasn’t elected to join them in their orations.  No; she seems to have been somewhat slower on the uptake, before heading…  No, not to the mess hall.  I think she’s tracing the music back to me.

I lose track of her hoofbeats in the noise.  One of the adults quickly positions themself in front of the door, blocking the young ones from entering- and saying something I don’t understand to them.  Whatever she’s saying seems unpopular, as many colts and fillies make disappointed noises and detour towards the mess hall.

She lets Bonbon through, when she arrives during a quiet part of the song.

She doesn’t interrupt, just sits and watches.  So I don’t interrupt the song.

I don’t immediately start another when it finishes, though.  Instead, I smile at her.  “How’d I do?”

“You…  You’re amazing,” she states.

I smile.  “Thanks.  Um, what’s going on, over there?”

She looks back at the door, where I gestured.  “Oh- everypony else has to go get ready for school.  Since we arrived so late last night, we’ve got an entire day to get settled in before we start.”

“School?”

“It’s…  where we go to learn things.  Most- possibly all- will be redundant for me…  and you won’t even be able to understand the teacher.”  She smiles.  “It’s going to be an interesting challenge.”

I shrug.  “Not really- you could just translate until I figure out how to understand it directly.”

She chuckles.  “Sure, that’ll work for the classes we both have- the basics, like math and Equestrian- but when I go to farming classes and you go instead to magic kindergarten, that’s when things will get interesting.”

“Uh…  I’ll figure it out.  I can still understand nonverbal communication just fine.”  I let out a giggle.  “You should have seen the adults this morning.  They came in to sip their tea sequentially while I played over there.”

“Sequentially?  Like, they all came in, then sipped their tea in order, before they all left?”

“Yep.  Though, they did sip several times while they watched for a few minutes.  It was almost like somepony was making waves in the fabric of spaceteacup every few seconds.”

I blink.  “The fabric of…  what?”

“You know, like the fabric of spacetime?”

“Uh…”

“Same here.  I’ll probably have to go retrieve my memories before I can explain it.”

“Something tells me you’re going to ace math.”

Smile.  “It’s possible.”

“Oh- speaking of memories, anything come up?”

Shake.  “I dreamed I was staring at a crown in a mirror.”

“...  Strange.”

“It was a pretty crown.”

She bursts out laughing, and I join her.

Then one of the adults comes in, and says something.

“Uh, she says, ‘if you’re finished playing, would you like some breakfast’?”

My stomach growls once again, and I only smile.


Breakfast was delicious.  All the other colts and fillies had already finished by the time we went in; Bonbon helped chase them all out the door, on their way to ‘school’.  Apparently, they really want to meet us; she had to promise we’d still be here when they get back to get them to actually go.

So now, we begin the process of “settling in”, as she calls it.

Which, for me, consists of watching the adult flap her lips incomprehensibly at us and listening to Bonbon repeating it back to me.  And understanding what our responsibilities will be.

Basically, clean up after ourselves.  A task so basic it almost feels like I’ve been doing it for years.

Later, when I mention this to Bonbon, she smirks knowingly and nods.  “You probably have.”

So, while she spends much of her time going over some papers she got from I neither know nor care where, I go back to that golden instrument and resume playing.

She talks to herself a lot as she flips through the pages.  I don’t interrupt my music for it, but I listen to it anyways.

I think she’s trying to decide who to have adopt us.

…  It sounds a little weird.  The staff explained earlier, and she translated, the adoption process:  Prospective foster parents come here to the orphanage, sometimes with their own young, to interview and, ideally, select a foal or two to adopt.

So it seems a little weird Bonbon is trying to decide who will adopt us.  Almost like it’s our choice, rather than theirs.

I smile to myself, listening to her mutterings.  Build myself an understanding of who the options are.

Who knows, it could help.  Even if one of the ones she doesn’t prefer chooses to adopt us.





The following morning.  I wake up to the cello again; I have no idea how she’s slipping away without waking me up.  Especially since she confessed that, both nights, we were in a tight embrace when she awoke.

And it took her less than five seconds, on either day, to get out of bed without awakening me.

Despite my extremely sensitive sense of touch.

She’s amazing with that cello.

And the lyre she seems to favor.  She drew and held an attentive audience, composed of every colt and filly in the place, for almost three hours after dinner, entirely on her own.

Just like now, when I can feel the entire building shaking to the beat of a hundred or so little hooves pounding on the floors, running in sync down to the mess hall.

Not one foal grumbling about it being too early, not one foal even the slightest bit drowsy.

Kinda like how she picked bedtime last night to play a song with the flute to make everypony bone tired.

…  I have no idea how she did that.

Today, we go to school with the rest.  She knows, as well; as a matter of fact, she’s looking forward to it.

So I go straight to the mess hall, where the staff are already setting out breakfasts- all of them, not just a few.  They must have tried- and succeeded in- communicating to Lyra exactly when wake-up time was, allowing her to handle that in its entirety.

Well, I suppose there’s the one standing by the music room door, making sure nopony goes in to play audience instead of eating.

I keep a seat empty for her- and, once the song finishes, she trots in and takes it, thanking me.  Nopony else understands, of course.

She then tells me she dreamed of that crown once again.

Strange.  Was she a ruler of her people before the…  event?  I don’t know.  I don’t mention it; that’ll be for another day, probably after she gets her memories back.


School goes smoothly, for the most part.  After a couple brief conversations with the teachers, we start classes- and I translate for her so she can follow along.

This goes smoothly through all the general education classes.  We get weird looks from a few of the other students- especially when she asks a question and I use Germane to answer.

Then we separate for the breed-specific courses.  I honestly haven’t been taught much of the stuff they teach here, beyond a quick overview, so this is perhaps the only part of school I’m finding legitimately educational.

When I meet her after school, though, she wants to skip her breed-specific courses- also known as Magic Kindergarten- forevermore.  She’s afraid to try what she thinks they want her to do; apparently, it’s too scary.

Unfortunately, I have to inform her she can’t skip them any more than I can accompany her in them.  Which is, of course, impossible.

“But- but its-!”

“Then don’t do it,” I tell her.  “Take advantage of the language barrier and don’t do it.  Do try to understand everything, though- it could help you understand why it’s so scary…  and make it less so.”
> Chapter 7:  The Secret Investigator
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

It’s a disaster.

That’s my opinion.  Yes, I’m one of the youngest Agents to ever be made an Investigations Agent- and like any other IA, nopony- even the mission commander- knows I’m one.

That’s my job, as an IA.  Everypony assumes I’m a regular Agent, like them.  My job is to investigate Agents.

In this case, I’ve been sent to a secluded, sand-covered island to investigate claims of an Agent attacking a non-Agent he believed to be an Agent.

It’s a disaster.

There are Agents everywhere, for one.

For two, this black sand was uncomfortably warm under my hooves during my “tour” yesterday; now, I’ve teleported myself to the island at the normal start of shift today, and it’s uncomfortably cool.

For three, all the Agents are crowding the blackened remains of the village.

For four, most of the Agents here have been assigned for over a month, and they’ve all been on the island for fourteen hours a day, cramming two meals, a daily report, and sleep into those remaining ten hours.

Each of those points would create tension on their own.  All together, and I can almost taste it in the air.

It’s no surprise violence has broken out.  They haven’t been filtering for aggressive tendencies; there’s eighteen Agents on the list with competitive streaks.

But it’s not my job to flag the areas as sensitive.  I go on a quick trip around the island once everypony is here, teleporting back to the ship to note that in my report.

Then I teleport back to the island, back in that around-the-island location, and continue my circuit.

I pause when I get back to the ring the Transit Duty Agents are using as their destination point.  These Transit Duty Agents are simply Unicorn Agents that are good at teleporting- and have been assigned, on this mission, to transport the rest of the Agents to the island and back.  I haven’t been assigned as one because I’m too young- and inexperienced, for that matter.  Not only do I have to brace myself, both physically and mentally, before I teleport- but I can’t bring anypony else with me, and don’t have the thaumic reservoir depth for successive teleportation.  As it is, those three jumps- spaced out throughout the last hour or so- have drained me almost to nothing.

Well…  not really.  If they had, I would’ve passed out after the second.  In actuality, if I were drawing on my own, innate thaumic reserves, even a single teleport will take more power than I have- so the spell will fail and I’ll knock myself out.  Rather, it’s the storage crystal hidden in my mane that’s almost empty.  Fortunately, I’ve been able to- with some creative spellwork- connect it to my innate reserves…  thus, when I use magic, I draw first from the crystal, THEN my reserves.

Then of course, my magic regeneration goes in reverse order- and I won’t stop regenerating magic until the crystal is fully charged.

And like most ponies, I already have more than half my eventual adult thaumic regeneration rate, even if I have nowhere near the reserve capacity.

…  I think.  We don’t actually know what my future numbers will be.

But in any case, I pause, looking at the crates and crates of supplies that came to the site with me.  I did come on a supply boat, but I thought most of it was food and the like, not…  mission supplies.

So I crack one open, lift the lid.

…  Snorkels.  Magic, diver’s snorkels, to be specific.

I check the other crates.  Same.

There’s only one possible reason there’d be this many snorkels on-site- and that’s that they think we’d use them.

Or, more specifically, that there is good reason to use them.

Now I’m curious.

I pull one out of one of the crates, and trot into the water at the nearest point.  It burns so little power I can keep it charged indefinitely- without burning so much power I won’t be able to jump back to the ship at the end of the day.

The water is chilly, but not painfully so.

There is nothing here.

So I return from the water, travel a short distance along the shore, and head under again.

And repeat.  Many, many times.  I lose count of how many times I repeat this process, before I find something.  Looks almost like a shipwreck.

I swim deeper, squinting in the darkness.  My hornlight doesn’t cut through the water very well.

Yes, it’s a shipwreck, all right.  There’s another next to it; I’ve found one end of a field of such wrecks.

I swim slowly down the row, quickly inspecting each one as I go.  It looks like they’ve all been stripped recently; none of them have flags, all the doors are wide open, the deck plates look to be recently moved.  In a few of them, I even spot the places where chests used to stand.

Just past the ships, I find row after row of chests, boxes, and barrels, lined up as if waiting to be pulled out of the ocean.  I peek in a few of them, finding a veritable treasure trove, and at least two boxes stuffed full of pirate flags.

This is far more than even the ships I see here might have in them.

I decide to take a few photos, for evidence.  However, the snorkel is sticking up in just the wrong spot, marring the image I can get with my spell.  So I draw a deep breath, and remove it, letting it hang from my neck while I take the photo.

Then I shift to the side, and take another photo.  Swim to the other side of all the rows of boxes, and take an image of the whole set of them.

Then I stop, and blink, before lifting the snorkel, hanging on its lanyard, in a hoof.

“What the hay…?”

Then I look up, at the surface of the water.

I’m at least thirty feet down, well out of range of even the best remote breathing spell, yet I’m breathing just fine.  What’s more, my oration came out perfectly clear, despite my underwater position!

In other words, I’m breathing water…  like a fish.  Or not like a fish; I run a hoof quickly down the side of my neck, checking for gills or the like, but find only dry fur.

Dry fur.  Thirty feet underwater.

I take a deep breath, and let it out.  It feels like I’m breathing air, but no bubbles emerge at all.

Then I blink again, and extinguish my hornlight.  Nothing darkens, even though very little sunlight is making it down here, if any.  I can still see way far, all the way to the shoreline, a good six hundred feet away.

…  This is weird.

I blink, glancing up at the water’s surface.  I can feel the teleportation signatures starting off once again; it seems everypony is going back to the ship for the night.  I raise my eyebrow; I’m not feeling that tired, though.  And, since I can teleport myself, I’m on a come-and-go schedule- I’m allowed to return to ship, or stay on the island, whenever I want, so long as I spend at least ten hours each day on the island.

I’m also not hungry.

So I make my decision.  I will take ruthless advantage of this strange effect, and continue exploring into the night.


Hardly two minutes pass before something happens.  The Agents finished teleporting back to ship just fifteen seconds or so ago when I hear a siren, emanating out from the island.

That’s exactly the signal we were warned to flee from, because that means it’s going to shoot something.  I rocket for the seafloor, landing firmly between two crates of treasure.  What is going on?  I look sharply left and right, but see nothing, so I crouch between the crates to wait.  If it’s targeting me, I don’t want to lead it to the ship; if it’s targeting the ship, I don’t want to get caught in the blast.

I freeze solid, eyes wide, as something touches the top of my head.

Then, without warning, two somethings flick down in front of my face and punch me in the eyes, so fast I couldn’t even blink.  Then of course, they flicked right back away.

Funny.  Those punches didn’t hurt, really- sure, it stings a little, but there’s no pain…  I blink, staring off into the distance.  I…  I can see for miles.  Much further than I could before.  I can see a dozen ships, sailing resolutely for the island.  I can see the tops of those ships as well, despite the water’s surface being in the way.

Something stings slightly in my ears, then the something leaves the top of my head, disappearing somewhere.  I look around, looking for it, but I don’t see anything, so I return to looking at the ships.

There’s something new, now.  A line, connecting to a target floating in the water just inches off the bow of one of the ships.  There’s something riding that line, racing towards the pirate ship.  I watch it go, even though I know I’m so far away I shouldn’t be able to see even the slightest hint of its presence.

I glances upwards, at the pegasi launching from the ships.

Then back down, in time for the object to meet the ship.

The ship explodes.  Simply…  explodes.  A glance up shows targets painting themselves on the pegasi, before they start falling out of the air, dead before they hit the water.

I look back at the remaining ships.  Is it possible for it to sink them instead of destroying them outright?  Perhaps to leave some of them alive, for questioning?  Even, to capture the ships undamaged?

I suddenly understand the answer to be yes.  I don’t know how I know, I just know it’s a yes.

No more strange spear things charge at the incoming ships.

Rather, two ships rise up from the seafloor in front of them, forming a blockade.  Three more match the motion from behind them, and three on either side- effectively boxing them in with what looks like some kind of weapon.

I listen to the orders given to the pirates.  Watch a few of the ships suffer damage when they fail to obey.  Spot the swarm of metallic ponies, they look like, rocketing through the water on approach.

The metal ponies explode from the surface of the water, landing solidly on the decks of the pirate ships as they start the process of taking the ships.

Then I pause.

They’re only doing that because I wanted them to!

…  This is officially weird.

Then I wonder:  Can Agents come aboard safely, to question the pirates and/or transfer them to Equestria for punishment?

Again, the answer is a solid yes.  I don’t know where it came from, but I also understand the entire Agency ship is suddenly completely safe to sail near the island- and the pegasi aboard completely safe to fly near the island.

I blink.  What about me?

…  I could already do that.

I…  I have no clue what’s going on.

But wait!  There was a native- the one that Agent attacked!  She probably knows what all of this stuff is!  Where is she now?

I immediately understand that the native, named “Lyra Heartstrings”, has a last known location on a pegasus carriage towards Ponyville, a couple days ago.

I need to go there.  To Ponyville.

I can come back to inform the Agents of the pirates, unless they can figure it out themselves.  I wish for the pirate ships to be brought and held near the Agency ships, and pick a flag for them all to fly, just below their own flags.

They will do that.  Though it’ll take an hour or two, as the flags need to be made first.

In the meantime, I will go to Ponyville.

In but a moment, a rush of water leaves my lungs, being replaced by air.  In that same moment, I’m suddenly surrounded by a bubble of air- and then, with no magic whatsoever flowing through my horn, I am no longer on the seafloor.