“It's the greatest armament in a generation, they're saying. Maybe in a century.” said Haior, looking over the fleet in the bay.

“Every day, there's another ship, it seems.” Turaz squinted in the early spring sun, shielding his eyes. “We don't see many galleons in Surana... I wonder why we need ships this big?”

“Southern affairs, I hear.” Haior handed him back the spyglass, which Turaz took up again. “Everyone wants in on the spice trade, or the wine trade, or the whatever trade. It's all far in the south, where the days are always warm and nights are never too long.”

“Just be glad winter's over, here in Ar-Athazîon. Back home, we'd have another two months of rain and gloom.” said Turaz.

“Do you think Equestria is going to be warm?”

“Highcrest is worse than Athair, if I remember rightly. But we won't be going there.”

“Where, then?”

“That's a secret, sergeant. King's orders.” Of course, Turaz knew where they were going.

Another galleon sailed under the sea-gate of the city, one with black sails and bloody eight-rayed stars upon them. Turaz pushed the spyglass back to his sergeant. “Look at that one.”

“What a grim vessel...” Haior muttered. “I see a red banner with a golden sword.”

“Ah... the King of Adûnak sends aid.”

“Adûnakîm? I never heard much about them back home, and what I did hear wasn't good.”

“Fierce fighters, those southerners.” Turaz said. “At least they're on our side.”

“At least.” agreed Haior.

Spring had begun not long ago, and the ships were coming much more quickly than they had over the winter. So too were armies, many of them from the west and south. Even more numerous than armies were what the Emperor called independent operators: unlanded knights, free men-at-arms, fanatical zealots, opportunistic outlaws, and other such rabble, thousands upon thousands swearing themselves to the Empire's holy war in return for the promise of loot and pardon of crimes. The Equestrians knew not what awaited them.

As the cold months passed, King Aharôs had grown even more distant than usual. Ever since he'd fallen in with Sidâl and that woman, Avenîl, Aharôs had been increasingly aloof. Whatever was going on with them, Turaz doubted it could be good. But after that strange discussion he'd heard back in the summer, he'd had no further reason to suspect anything. Something has to be going on, though... Making deals with supernatural entities was a one-way path to trouble. For now, though, Turaz could say nothing against his liege.

A few days before their departure, Turaz was summoned to one final war council. He stood to the right of Aharôs, around a large table. Other captains and lords were gathered, plus Sidâl, with the Emperor at their head. If someone had told a young Turaz that one day he'd be standing among kings and princes, he would have never believed them.

“My lords, the time has come.” the Emperor said. “In three days you will depart for Equestria, in the boldest quest seen in the world since our battle with the Great Enemy. Your mission, at heart, is simple: bring Equestria to its knees, and ensure they can never threaten our race again. King Aharôs, if you would...”

Aharôs cleared his throat, and placed a little Imperial banner on a map of Equestria. “Our first landing will be south of this place, Cape Coldweather. The shores are long and open, there are no reefs or rocks. Landing should be simple, we may even be able to sail our ships right onto the beach, if the risks are negligible. The goal of this force will be to defeat the Equestrians in open battle as soon as possible. Sidâl here assures me that the most dangerous arm of the Equestrian army are the Highcrest pegasi. By invading Highcrest first, they will come to us, and quickly.”

“Forgive me if I am hesitant to trust a sorcerer.” one of the Adûnakîm said. Many of the lords assembled muttered in agreement. “How do we know this is accurate?”

“Sidâl has been nothing if not helpful.” the Emperor spoke, giving an appreciative nod to the silent sorcerer. “I don't know what sources he has over there but they haven't been wrong yet. Continue, King Aharôs.”

“Once we win a victory in Highcrest and secure the land for Tempest Blackwind, the main force will land north of Reedsport. Their goal is to capture the unicorn city of Lithton by this winter, and to deal another blow to the Equestrian army by that time. Our weapons give us an edge they cannot match, and we should use them to full effectiveness. We need to break their will to fight, from their common soldiers to their Princess herself. The only way I see to do this is to inflict as terrible a defeat as we can on them at every turn.”

Turaz wondered just what terrible meant. Aharôs had a penchant for being terrible, and if he felt the need to emphasize that here... I'm glad I'm not an Equestrian.

“And what then?” asked King Fâôs.

“Then we winter in Lithton, and in the spring of 1506 we continue the campaign east, right to Everfree itself if we have to. That is, if they don't give up by the time we take Highcrest and Lithton out of the war.” said Aharôs.

“We'll deal with those problems when we get to them.” the Emperor said. “Thirty-two thousand men have answered the call to defend Heaven's banner, there hasn't been a a bigger army gathered since the Karthâ wars. And one human is worth two ponies, if not three! Our victory is all but certain.”

“A victory is certain, of that I have no doubt.” said Aharôs, with a grim frown at the map.

After the council adjourned, Aharôs stayed behind to study the map. Ever the loyal knight, Turaz stood by until he was dismissed, as did Sidâl. “What do you think, Turaz?” asked the King.

“I'm not sure what you mean, my king.” Turaz said, shuffling on his feet. “I have no mind for politics or grand strategy.”

“You've got to think something.” Aharôs said. “After all, you're the only one here who has been there before.”

“That was some time ago, my king... Who knows how much the ponies have changed since then?” He shrugged, and stared at the map. “Black powder is no secret weapon to them. They've fought it before.”

“Do you think they'll be more prepared?”

“All things are possible.”

“At least you're honest about your ignorance.” said Aharôs. “You still can be counted on to tell me the truth. I don't know about any of these other lords... I have no reason to trust them.”

“They answered the call to arms, to fight under Heaven's banner, my king. I think that's reason enough to trust them.” Turaz pointed out.

“So you say.” The King turned back to the map at hand, his hand moving over Highcrest. “And what of Tempest? How do you think this will end for her?”

“Well, I hope. I never thought her life would take her back home, but Queen Tempest seems to be headed that way, better or for worse. It beats living in exile forever, I'd think.” said Turaz. “I do feel guilty for not training Tempest recently, though. We're sending her into battle, out of practice for nearly a whole year! None of us saw any of these recent events coming, but...”

“We're not sending her into battle.” said Sidâl, finally speaking up. “Queen Tempest is neither a soldier nor a monarch at heart. Lady Snowy will guide her rule rightly; the armies of man will fight for her. At least until she has her throne. After that...”

“That's what concerns me.” Aharôs muttered, wringing his hands. “I've lost my own lands and crown, but I would be happy if she could get hers back. And keep them.”

It can't be easy, thought Turaz. For ten years the Blackwinds had lived with them at Nikadîon, an ever-dwindling and impotent following focused on young Tempest. It'd been rather sad, really. Now Aharôs was reduced to that too; a king with only a handful of soldiers at his command, and with his personal relationship to the Emperor as his only claim to relevancy. Just like Tempest and him...

“Well, if Queen Tempest isn't going to be sent into combat... I suppose I do feel better about that. But it seems a shame for all that effort to go to waste.” he said. Aharôs gave him a sharp look.

“Let me tell you about waste, Sir Turaz: I spent half my life subduing one half of my realm, only to have both halves stolen from me as thanks. Any good that comes to Tempest because of us is enough for me. I could die a pauper for all I cared if we can do this. If we fail her, then yes, my life has been a total waste. If we do not fail her...” The King clenched his fist, turning his glare on the center of Equestria.

“I... understand.” Turaz nodded. “I just hope we can get this started soon. Queen Tempest has waited for eleven years now, let's not keep her waiting any longer.”

“My sentiments exactly, good knight.” said Sidâl, smiling.

The next three days saw an excited buzz come over Ar-Athazîon. Everyone knew the armies were departing for foreign lands, and many came to see them off, crowding atop the city wall and roofs alike to watch. The fleet was made of ships from every land, and it showed:

There were the black-sailed galleons from Adûnak; the Lûndôvîn ships with their blue serpents; vessels flying emblems of flowers and tigers and moths and calligraphic seals; carracks and caravels with striped boarding; holks and fluyts sitting low in the water, burdened with supplies. Each and every one flew the black banner of Heaven from the mainmast. Such a great armada had never been seen before; they appeared as if a bare forest had sprouted from the harbor.

“There's so many...” Tempest Blackwind said, upon seeing the fleet when they arrived at the docks. “Does... does that ship have butterflies on its flag?”

“Those are moths, that one is from Bîerlas. I'm surprised they showed up, knowing that King Aharôs is in command.” said Turaz.

“King Aharôs took a good amount of land from them, didn't he?” asked Snowy.

“That he did. Perhaps by fighting a holy war, they think they can regain favor with Heaven?” Turaz shrugged. “I'm not a king, I don't know. Let's get to our ship.” He guided the three-pony Blackwind army to the Lûndôvîn flagship, a tall galleon with its serpents writhing on the unfurling sails. With them came the two prisoners he'd heard about, a pegasus and a unicorn from the abortive Equestrian mission to Sarathûl. Goldbark and Henlock, wasn't it? No one told mere knights about these matters.

“I hate sailing...” Tempest grumbled, going up the gangplank.

“That's all you have to say?” asked Turaz. “You're going home, my Queen!”

“Yeah, but I hate sailing.” said Tempest, her ears dropping back. With that, she went aboard, with Snowy close in tow.

“Going home in a human ship...” one of the pony prisoners said in Equestrian. “That's what I call irony.”

“Yes indeed, it is.” agreed Turaz. The two looked surprised that he knew their language, but he didn't give them time to say anything. “Get up there, we've got a two week's voyage ahead of us, and the tide is going out.”

But Turaz did not get on the Lûndôvîn ship. He was going with Aharôs, aboard one of the Adûnakîm galleons. There was great fanfare as they led the host under the city's sea-gate, and into the open ocean.

And then they were away; the strength of the Empire assembled, aimed, and launched straight at Equestria.

Author's Notes:

SERIOUS OVERSIGHT: two chapters ago I accidentally wrote that the Golden One had great love for Luna's visitor, when I thought I had written no great love. This is why I need your help to find errors, people. That was an incredibly important distinction.

Anyways, sorry about this fourteen week delay. It happened because reasons. If I was a drinker I'd be a depressive alcoholic; luckily I'm not, but it doesn't stop my hair from falling out each morning anyway. Again, we're lucky, because writing is my escapism and I finally got my disintegrated motivation together to produce this. I chose a hell of a time to go inactive, didn't I? We were about to start the third act... Oy vey, this story is never gonna be finished. But hey, the time between my last update and now is almost exactly the same as between last chapter and this one! Yes, after almost three years of Across the Sea, we've finally made it one year in story time!