V.
“All right, gentlecolts. Here’s the situation.”
Golden and White stepped back from the table as Autumn unfurled a huge map of the Atlantrot. The Bluenose was, at last, out of the storm, and power had been restored to the ship. The captain had called the two Guards to the bridge to work out what to do next.
“The good news is that we still have some power, as you already know,” Autumn said. “Our backup generator is taking care of that. The bad news is that we’ll only have enough to run the ship for two days – maybe three, if we conserve it.”
“But I thought these magic-powered generators could work forever,” White said.
Autumn shook her head. “A backup generator is supposed to be a failsafe for instances when unicorns of a crew can’t or won’t work. That’s why it doesn’t use magic – it uses coal.” She shrugged. “I’m sure you know that our coal supply is much more limited than our magic.”
Golden spoke up. “Well…can we still make it to the humans?”
“On a few days’ power? Maybe, but it’s not guaranteed.” Autumn turned to the map and planted her hoof on it. “The storm pushed us off course a bit, but I can say for certain that we’re in this area.”
“Now, we have two options.” Autumn slid her hoof southeast. “We can continue on our planned route and hope that we reach land before our backup generator gives out. However, if it does give out before landfall, we’ll be at the mercy of the currents. Celestia knows where we’ll end up.”
Her hoof travelled north. “Our other option is to divert our course to the Griffon Empire. It’ll take us away from the humans, but the country is closer, and the trip is one I can guarantee we’ll make.” She stepped back. “Personally, I think we should go for the griffons.”
“I disagree,” White said. “We should go for the humans. What does the Griffon Empire have to offer us? They’re in the same boat as Equestria.”
It was up to Golden. He continued studying the map. It was a tough decision; run the risk of becoming stuck in the ocean, or willingly enter a country dealing with its own problems?
My job is to ensure this mission succeeds, Golden thought. Which means my job is to protect the Elements of Harmony, and to minimize the risk to them.
“What’s your call, sir?” White asked.
Golden made up his mind. He looked up from the map.
“We’re going to visit the griffons.”
Gael inhaled deeply, the salty coastal air filling his nostrils.
He was poised on the edge of the sea cliff, two hundred metres above the water below. White froth drifted against the base of the cliff, while the rest of the ocean stretched for as far as he could see, meeting up with the lighter blue of the sky on the horizon. It was his second day living beside the coast, and he was still fascinated by the size and extent of the ocean.
Gael took another deep breath, and then tipped himself over the edge.
For two seconds, he existed in a state of free-fall, pure adrenaline coursing through him. He then unfurled his wings, gliding away from the cliffs and over the water. Waves rushed past below him as he sped across the ocean. It was awesome, to say the least.
Gael let out a shout of exhilaration. He had wanted to do this – he needed to do this – ever since he had reached the coast. After a month of carefully weaving through cities and towns, scavenging for supplies, and avoiding other griffons, it was wonderful to just relax and enjoy himself.
He had good reason to do so, too. Yesterday was the day that he had crossed into Ibeira, the most southern province of the Griffon Empire. He was halfway into his journey – a couple more weeks, and it would be completely over.
Gael felt himself slowing down. He pointed himself upward and climbed away from the water, intending to do a dive to get some speed back. But as he gained altitude, he noticed a white scar on the ocean to the right of him. It was similar in color to the whitecaps of waves, but snaked across the surface of the water in a straight path.
His curiosity piqued, Gael veered towards the trail of white to take a closer look. It was wide, a good few decametres across. The strangest thing was that it pointed right in the direction of the lighthouse that Gael was living in.
Seems like the wake of something, he thought. A whale, maybe? He hadn’t seen any of the large animals, but it wasn’t impossible that they were around.
Or…could it be a ship?
He shot down that theory almost immediately. Don’t be absurd. After the Clip had surfaced, the ports of the Griffon Empire had been closed in an effort to contain the sickness. All ships had been either taken away by the government or sunk to the bottom. Only a couple small vessels, such as fishing boats, had survived, and they were certainly not large enough to create a wake like this.
Gael decided to fly on. He did some more gliding, and the occasional loop, before turning back towards the lighthouse. The griffon flew along the coast, following the downward slant of the land. The lighthouse then came into view, a black-and-white column protruding from the ground.
To Gael, the lighthouse was the ideal structure to live in during these times. It was far away from any cities or towns, which also meant that it was far away from other griffons. It also had the advantage of height. The lantern room at the top was an excellent place to observe the surrounding area. The setup made it virtually impossible for a Clipped griffon to get near the lighthouse without Gael knowing about it first.
However, as he crested the hill atop which the lighthouse stood, he was shocked by what he saw. A large blue-and-white ship was in the bay off the nearby beach, and three griffons were on the shore. One of them was dragging a small rowboat onto the beach. The other two…
The other two were walking towards the lighthouse.
Gael immediately dropped down onto the ground. So his second guess had been right after all. But why was a ship here, of all places? How was it here? Vessels its size had been among the first on the chopping block.
And there was also the issue of those three griffons. Luckily, they hadn’t seen Gael, and the griffon continued observing them as they slowly made their way towards him and the lighthouse. There was something odd about them – their legs moved in a jerky, almost mechanical fashion. Even from this distance, Gael could tell something was wrong with them.
He’d hoped that the ship belonged to other, healthy griffons that could help him. But these griffons were not normal, with their odd behaviour. Granted, he didn’t remember the Clip causing erratic movement like in those griffons, but Gael wasn’t going to take any chances.
He had to move before they saw him.
Gael carefully flew upwards, making sure the lighthouse was between him and the two griffons. He landed on the balcony and pushed in the door of the lantern room. The giant electrical light reflected distorted versions of Gael’s image as the griffon passed it.
A hatch on the floor led to the rest of the lighthouse below. Gael gripped the handle and slid it open, exposing the hollow inside of the lighthouse tower itself. The scraping of metal on wood echoed in the empty space. Gael deftly swung himself through the hatch, his claws gripping the edge of the floor, and dropped through.
He fluttered down, following the central support pillar, and landed at the bottom of the tower. This was the central hub of the lighthouse; from here, he could visit any place in the structure.
Gael hurried into the living quarters. Grabbing his bag, he began stuffing his supplies into it. Maps and papers were crumpled by tin cans as Gael worked. His usual habit of neat, tidy packing was ignored – time was of the essence here.
A loud rapping noise sounded from the door that led outside. Gael quickly looked up from his bag.
They’re here already?
The knocking stopped, only to be replaced by the jiggling of the doorknob. It was locked, thankfully, but Gael knew that brute force would soon come into play.
He threw the last can of food into his bag and scrabbled at the clasp. The bag bulged, however, due to his hurried packing, and the clasp refused to close.
“Come on,” Gael muttered to himself.
He yanked violently, and the two halves finally met. The griffon slung the bag under his wing, glancing at the door. Heavy thumps had begun to come from it as the other griffons tried to break it down, but Gael had prepared for such a situation. When he had arrived at the lighthouse, he had barricaded the door with wooden planks as well as some furniture, all reinforced by a metal bed frame.
So imagine his surprise when, with a crack, the door broke open.
No way. No way that’s possible.
Gael was stunned. He’d been sure that the barricade would hold out for at least five to ten minutes. He remembered how difficult it was to assemble it, pushing and shoving everything into place. But these griffons had broken through in less than two minutes.
Gael snapped into action. The barricade’s remnants – two sofas in particular – were still hindering the progress of the griffons on the other side. There was still some time for Gael to escape.
He quickly dashed into the tower, ducking off to the side so that he wasn’t exposed through the doorway. Behind him, there was one final scrape on the floor as the other griffons finally got through the barricade. Gael could hear the sound of their claws and paws striking the floor as they entered – but they sounded wrong. The noise was more sharp and louder than what Gael was used to hearing.
First that walking, and now this weird noise? Surely the Clip can’t change the way your claw- and pawsteps sound.
Ignoring the thought for the time being, Gael silently unfurled his wings. His plan was to fly to the ceiling and hide up there. He didn’t plan on leaving the lighthouse yet. Opening the hatch would make noise – noise that would surely be heard.
Gael could hear the griffons talking amongst themselves as he ascended. Their voices were indistinct, too soft for him to make out any words. However, one voice grew louder, and Gael caught his breath. One of the griffons must be entering the tower!
Gael suddenly felt horribly exposed. Maybe he should have made a run for it after all; the other griffons would have heard the hatch, but at least they wouldn’t have seen him.
It was too late for second thoughts, though. As Gael hovered, trying to make as little noise as possible, one of the griffons appeared in the doorway directly below him.
He – or she? – had brown wings and fur, and a white head. A Yatilian, Gael figured. But what happened next proved that the griffon was anything but from Yatil.
“Nothing here, Golden,” the griffon said in Equestrian – in Equestrian! “Just an empty tower.”
Gael had studied Equestrian before, but hadn’t expected to use it outside of work and the occasional vacation. Now, he was thankful that he had taken the lessons. He didn’t understand all the words, but knew enough to get what was being said.
The other griffon paused, probably listening to his partner’s response. Then: “Nope, no stairs, either. Like I said, it’s empty.”
He paused again, seemingly about to leave the tower. But it was only to let his colleague – Golden? – join him in the doorway. The second griffon glanced at the walls of the tower.
“This is pretty big,” Golden said. He entered the tower itself, walking around the central pillar. “We could fit most of our supplies in here, along with ten, maybe twelve, ponies.”
“So everypony except for us Guards,” the first griffon clarified.
“That’s our job, Aris,” Golden said. “Put other ponies first.”
He arrived back at the doorway, his circle completed. “Speaking of which, we should get back to the ship. Making the move from there to here will take the rest of the day, I think.”
The two disappeared from sight as they left the tower. Gael stayed where he was, his wings fluttering softly, until he heard the front door slamming shut. He breathed a slow sigh of relief. Luck had held out for him.
Gael grabbed the hatch handle and slid it open, then hauled himself up into the lantern room. There was one last thing he needed to do.
Not wanting to be seen through the windows, Gael went prone on the floor. He watched as his two visitors made their way back to the beach. They stopped for a few minutes, talking with the griffon – no, pony – who had waited for them, then got into the rowboat. Gael watched as the little vessel moved across the water, until it disappeared behind the much larger ship.
He stood up, still reeling from what he had discovered. Ponies. Those griffons were really ponies in disguise. The ship was theirs, but they were going to move to the lighthouse. Gael also knew that there were at least fourteen ponies that were going to come ashore, and at least two of them were so-called “Guards”.
What could they be here for? Surely they know about the Clip? Gael asked himself. Or maybe they’re here to help us with aid, or evacuation, and that’s why they’re moving onto shore.
Evacuation… Gael looked at the Equestrian ship again. Could the ponies…could they get me out of here?
The griffon gave it some serious thought. The idea was tempting; he could be out of the Griffon Empire in days instead of weeks, and be an ocean away from the Clip instead of a mere sea.
He swung open the window of the lantern room. Stepping out onto the lighthouse’s balcony, Gael let the breeze clear his head as he worked out how to approach the ponies.
The most difficult part would be getting them to talk with him in the first place. Gael assumed that they knew about the Clip and would take precautions against it. Avoiding contact with strangers would be one such precaution. He had to prove to them that he was healthy.
That shouldn’t be too hard, Gael thought. All I have to do is show that I can still fly, right?
But even if he managed to talk with the ponies, there was no guarantee of them letting him aboard, or even giving the idea any consideration.
Unless…unless I have something to bargain with, Gael realized. And he did have something that would be useful to the ponies.
He looked out at the bay. That was quick, he thought. The ponies were already rowing back to shore.
Gael stayed where he was. He wasn’t going to fly out there to greet the ponies – the chance of them seeing Gael and running before he could talk was too high. He had decided to wait in the lantern room until the ponies were near the lighthouse, then drop down and talk.
The ponies, still in their griffon disguises, were getting out of the rowboat. Gael could see them taking out some square objects – their supplies, perhaps? There were four of them this time. One stayed with the rowboat, like before, while the other three approached the lighthouse.
As they neared his position, Gael could see that they were carrying crates on their backs. However, from his viewpoint, the crates were partially in their backs; another flaw in their disguises.
The ponies were almost at the lighthouse’s door. Gael took a deep breath, hoping that he wouldn’t mess this up.
He spread his wings as he jumped off the balcony. His shadow crossed the ground, causing the ponies to look up. Their confused expressions became panicked once they saw Gael hovering above them.
“No! Calm down! I’m not infecté.” Gael’s Equestrian threatened to jumble up in his mouth as he rushed through it. “I can fly. I’m sick not – er, not sick. I’m not sick! I can still fly!” He waved his claws in front of him to emphasize the point.
Despite his outburst, the ponies were still backing away from him. Gael had to do something, fast, before the situation was lost.
“Do you need help? I can help! You and the other ponies!” he shouted. Please, let this work.
The ponies stopped. One of them said something to the others, which began a conversation amongst themselves. They were too quiet for Gael to hear what they were saying, and the griffon awkwardly hovered in the air, waiting for them. Finally, one of them answered Gael.
“You wrong. We griffons like you,” he said in awkward Gryphus.
So they’re trying to deny it. “No, you aren’t. I know you are all ponies; after all, you understand my Equestrian.”
The pony muttered something under his breath, then turned back to his colleagues. They had another discussion before the first pony stepped forward.
“Okay, you’ve got us,” he admitted in Equestrian. He moved a fake claw towards his neck. “Guess we won’t need this for the time being.” A flash of blue light erupted around the pony, causing Gael to fly backwards a few metres on instinct.
What just…
The light cleared, and the pony was now just that – a pony. His disguise had been deactivated, somehow. His colleagues did the same trick, and Gael was soon hovering above a trio of white ponies.
The first pony motioned at Gael. “You can come down here now, but keep your distance!”
Gael did as the pony instructed. “I’m not sick, you know. I can still fly,” he said for the third time.
“We just want to be safe,” the pony replied.
Can’t argue with that, Gael thought.
The pony continued. “Now, what’s this ‘help’ you’re offering?”
“Well, I can act as a guide for you ponies,” Gael said. “I’ve been around the Clip for almost –”
“The Clip?” the pony interrupted.
“The sickness,” Gael clarified. “I’ve been avoiding it for weeks now. I know the towns, the safe places, everything. And, I can help you ponies get to wherever it is you want to go.”
“Hmm…” There was another brief talk among the trio. “What do you want in return?” the first pony asked.
He’s a smart one, Gael thought. “In return? Once you’re done here, you take me back to Equestria with you.”
“That’s –” The third pony began to protest, only to be hushed by the second. More quiet conversation followed, but the whispers were fiercer this time, the ponies more animated. The tendrils of doubt slowly crept into Gael’s mind.
Maybe it wasn’t enough, promising to be a guide, he thought. But that’s all I have! What else can I offer? Food? Shelter? They’ve already got that on and in their ship.
Gael stayed where he was, flapping his wings. He felt like he was in court, his imminent future being determined by complete strangers. The anxiety was overwhelming.
Finally, the ponies finished talking. The first one motioned at Gael, who leaned forward, awaiting the pony’s response.
“All right. We accept your offer.”