After the exchange, Prism and Shores parted ways in the face of the coming storm. Hastily, they agreed to meet at the Archives the next day at noon, to fetch the research Twilight Sparkle had collected on the East.

It was only when Shores had closed the door to the overpriced Canterlot hotel room, payed with her new hoard of money, that she screamed in delight.

Little of interest happened in the morning; Shores woke up early, then promptly shifted around in bed and fell asleep again, figuring she'd need the extra rest. It wasn't like she had anything to pack that wasn't already in her saddlebags. She did hide her new bits under her pillow, though.

Grudgingly getting up as the sun neared its peak in the sky, she eschewed the ludicrously expensive food in the hotel lobby in favor of finishing off the old hay fries in her saddlebag. When nobody was looking, she swiped a decoration rose off a hanging flowerpot and scoffed it down - she figured that was better for the hotel than her throwing up all over the polished floor from the hay fries' taste, and anyway, it wasn't like they needed the money.

Just as it seemed the sun could not arch any higher, Shores trotted up to the Canterlot Royal Archives. She found Prism lurking about among the pillars of the expansive entryway. A few quick pleasantries was exchanged, but of more interest were the haphazard collection of folders gripped in his magic. The walk to the train station was equally silent, each pony grabbing the odd document and reading, or pretending to read it.

Shores caught Prism smiling to himself at one point, and with a contented sigh of her own, she gazed at east. Toward her destiny.

Hopefully, one that didn't involve bodily harm. Rephrase that, too much bodily harm; a few scars like her dad's might look pretty good . . .

Once at the station, the pair bought two economy-class tickets for the train to Baltimare. The destination had been recommended by Twilight, pasted on the cover of the folders; the ticket class, at Shores' insistence.

Before long, Canterlot became a distant silhouette as the vibrant farmlands of inner Equestria rushed by the dirty windows, blurring together in a kaleidoscope of greens, browns, and yellows. The sun started its mid-afternoon descent, the shadows of rural barns and silos stretching out across the crops.

Having found themselves alone in a passenger car, the Canterlot-to-Baltimare train being almost deserted, the two nascent explorers slumped lazily in their seats for the long ride. They wouldn’t reach their destination until just before dawn the next morrow anyway, according to the schedule.

Shores, for her part, lounged on the softest seat in the car. Documents from the Equestrian Morcoast Embassy held out in front of her, eyes eagerly shifting their gaze from paper to paper.

"So, Morcoast," she began, breaking a day-long drought of meaningful conversation.

"Morcoast." Prism sighed, "From what little I've read, seems like an absolutely miserable place to be."

"Right." Shores coughed, clearing her throat dramatically. "Morcoast, westernmost griffon realm, situated on the extreme west end of the Eastern Reach, a large chain of islands between Equestria and . . . Eas?"

"The term for the Eastern continent proper, as far as we can tell." Prism cut it, waving his own sheet of paper. "I've been reading up on our reports from our Embassy in the city of Eas - this Vaernya seems like quite the character."

"Eas. Former capital of the Griffon Empire." Shores said, inwardly glad at having a real conversation with her travelling partner. They seemed to get along easily enough. "That was seventy years ago."

Prism nodded. "Now, Eas is its own separate realm, although its leader is still called High King or Queen in remembrance of its past glory. I'm also getting some references to 'Ironclast' and 'Redclain', both of which, I think, are one the western shore of Eas. The continent, that is."

"A little confusing," Shores observed, "although I read here that Ironclast and Redclain were the two other big cities of the Empire."

"That little trader's manifesto? It doesn't mention Morcoast at all, though. Just the three big cities."

"These Ambassadors aren't very descriptive, are they?" Shores frowned. "There's barely any actual descriptions of Morcoast here."

"Let me see that." Prism said, pointing at the documents in Shores' hooves. She threw them in his direction, expecting him to pluck them out of the air with his magic. Instead, a feeble blue glow surrounded a few of them, only to waver and let the whole mess drop on the floor. Prism glared at her.

"Thanks." he muttered, getting out of his seat and scooping up the scattered papers.

"Wait," Shores held up a hoof, "what was that?"

Prism sighed. "I guess there's no hiding it if I'm exploring the East with you, is there? Remember what I said about failing the University?"

"Uh, you failed because your professor made magic a graduating requirement . . . oh." Shores blinked. "Ah, I remember now. Didn't you call yourself the 'poorest magicking unicorn in Equestria'?"

"That's the gist of it. I'm not very good at magic."

"Well," Shores began hopefully, "I know a lot of unicorns who only have good magic when they're doing something with their special talent."

Prism raised an eyebrow, and Shores continued, "I mean, I'm sure there's a lot of unicorns like that. Haven't actually known them, but I haven't seen Canterlot unicorns lift more than one or two things at a time, and never anything beyond simple telekinesis."

Prism huffed. "That's just a cultural stigma here. Don't exert yourself, it's beneath you."

"So, how bad are you?" Shores asked, immediately grimacing and shaking her head. "Agh, I'm sorry, that just came out."

"You're going to want to work on that, Shores." Prism observed. "I doubt accidentally insulting a griffon in the East will help us any."

"Yeah," Shores muttered, "I'm sorry."

"Anyway," Prism said a second later, "that whole thing about Canterlot unicorns doesn't even apply to the University. Ever since that professor showed up, the students have been stumbling over themselves to show off their magic."

". . .oh."

"Yeah, it hasn't worked out."

"Alright, let me rephrase this," Shores said, "what can you do?"

"Magic-wise?" Prism closed his eyes, "telekinesis. Poorly, as you saw, but I lift a glass or a book or something. Nothing like somepony like Twilight Sparkle had hurl around, but I usually don't have to use my hooves in in class. Stuff like doors are an exertion, and it only gets worse.."

"How about if there was a chasm between us and safety, and the lever to save us was on the other side. Could you move that lever with magic?"

Prism blinked. "If it's greased, maybe."

"Drat. Anything else?"

Prism rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "If you're still thinking along normal unicorn lines, forget it. No teleportation, mass shifting, or magic blasts. Nothing like that."

"Ah," Shores began, "so, what is your special talent?"

Prism lifted up the back of his cloak, revealing a stylized old Pegasi-style temple. "History."

"Your special talent is history." Shores said flatly.

Prism held up a hoof. "As far as I can tell. I got my cutie mark when I aced a history exam I didn't study for at all. I do have an affinity for the subject."

Shores raised an eyebrow. "That's kind of, well, simple. Define 'affinity'."

"I love history? I have perfect marks in every class on the subject?" Prism shrugged. "It's a pretty broad definition, I know, but it's the most logical conclusion."

"There has to be more to it."

"I know, I know." Prism said. "I don't think that's all there is, either. I hope someday I'll find some kind of hidden meaning to it. If that makes any sense."

"Still, so no magic?" Shores asked.

"Little magic." Prism sighed. "So, how are we getting to Morcoast?"

Shores held up another little note from Twilight. "The Princess says there might be a couple of small airships that can be hired out of Baltimare. I was thinking, though, we hire one of them for the entire journey."

"The entire journey?" Prism said slowly.

"Oh, come on now," Shores said, "Morcoast can't possibly represent the whole East! We need to go farther than that!"

"But to rope another pony into this?" Prism said, clearly not savoring the prospect, "I say we just hire one for the quick hop to Morcoast. If we want to go farther, I'm sure there's a way we can do it from Morcoast itself, and it'll probably be better suited for the environment anyway."

Shores raised a hoof. "Objection. That takes the control of our journey out of our hooves."

Prism sighed. "Control? We're going into near-uncharted territory as it is, and I'm sure the Embassy will know where to get transport in Morcoast."

"They barely have descriptions of the place, what makes you think they'll know the locals that well?"

"I- fine. If you can find somepony crazy enough to take us around, do it. Just don't hold back on the nature of their job, alright? Princess Twilight's lucky as it is I'm going with you."

Shores nodded, satisfied. "Oh, I'm sure I can find somepony."

"Certainty is a falsehood-"

"After all, Baltimare is where my dad started his journey to the East."

Prism opened his mouth to ask her to elaborate, when Shores leaned back in her chair, closed her eyes, and balanced a folder over her face to block out the setting sun. Clearly, she was done talking. Honestly, they're first real conversation had gone as well as he could hope, just business. He wasn't expecting the mare to tell her life story immediately, and he was far too experienced with telling his cutie mark's story for it to really matter.

Still, she seemed pleasant enough, if a tad eager.

With a sigh, Prism snatched up a fallen paper that had escaped his attention earlier, and began reading it.

Author's Notes:

Ah, that took a bit of time. I already had the full chapter written, but I've grown disillusioned to most of my pre-written content, and thus chapter was started anew. Plus, I was busy writing a fanfiction of a fanfiction.

Anyway, I'm travelling to the Phlippines for a week in less than a week, so I'm hoping to have the next chapter out by then. I tell you, I almost abandoned this story over it's lack of attention, but I've realized it's a good lesson. Just one person should be enough, I'm not paying them to read my story. I'm quite excited to write it, anyhow, so there's that.

This story still remains the big project for me at the moment.

Also, I do hope a mare with a Scottish accent isn't too tacky, because that's what you'll be getting soon enough.