The next two days passed in a wash of calm waters that reflected azure skies and star-spangled nights. The Over There made excellent time across the sea, pursuing the rising sun every morning.

Towards noon of the third day, the group was scattered across the schooner’s decks, enjoying the sun-kissed gusts that gently pushed them forward. Mainsail was at the helm, steering the ship forward to their destination. Daring, Rainbow and Flash were sparring on the main deck, Flash’s armor shining in the sun as he darted in and out of the other two pegasi, all three of them evenly matched. Twilight was sitting towards the bow, her nose buried in the Aushaylian atlas; next to her, Fluttershy, Applejack and Pinkie were playing a card game.

Twilight looked up from the book, staring out past the jib towards the horizon. We should be within sight of Aushaylia in a couple of hours, she thought to herself. Then we’ll have to figure out a plan to take care of Whitestone and rescue Phillip. Ideas began to swim in the forefront of her mind, and she put herself to the task of sorting out her thoughts, categorizing them into information, speculation, goals, and concerns, discarding anything that was not useful. From there, she would try to mix the various combinations to concoct a feasible plan.

Starlight emerged onto the deck from below, blinking in the sudden light that assaulted her eyes. “Maybe I’m spending too much time down by myself,” she chuckled to herself, meandering towards the bow of the ship. “I’m starting to turn into Twilight.”

“Yes, sitting in the dark for too long is not doing your complexion any favors, darling,” Rarity scolded gently, taking out a mane brush out of her saddlebag and using it to fix Starlight’s mane. “You’ve barely come out since the start of the voyage. What have you been doing down there?”

“Doing some experiments,” Starlight replied, using her magic to open a small drawstring bag that was hanging around her neck. Out of the bag floated several dark blue crystals, carefully carved into geometric shapes.

“Those are the crystals from the Rainbow Castle, aren’t they?” Rarity asked, the periwinkle glow of the enchanted stones seeming to magnify the color of her irides.

“Yes. I’ve been doing some more tests,” Starlight stated. She focused a beam of her magic on one of the samples, a pyramid shaped shard. The stream of energy caused the crystal to glow brighter, and then it spat out a shimmering, multi-colored sphere of light that expanded to three feet wide. The colors swirled around the bubble in a kaleidoscopic display, nearly obscuring the shard of crystal floating within.

“I’ve found out that the energy encased within these stones can focus and direct whatever magic is concentrated into them, almost like a...like a lens, but for magic,” Starlight stated, experimentally tapping the swirling sphere that floated before her. Her hoof caused the little bubble to flex slightly and slowly float upwards a few inches before descending back to its original position. “I think it has something to do with the nature of the castle itself: it was created from the Tree of Harmony, so it’s overcharged with positive energy.” She ceased directing her magic into the prism. The multi-hued sphere immediately disappeared and the shard remained suspended in midair. “But I still can’t figure out how to control the shapes that the shards make.”

“If you ever figure it out, do tell me, will you?” Rarity asked, watching the hovering fragments in fascination. “I have so many ideas as to what I could do with these fabulous jewels! Just imagine, decoration that could glow and form shapes—oooh, wait a minute!” she suddenly cried, plucking out one of the crystals: a four-pointed star that was similarly shaped to the star in Starlight’s cutie mark, save for a small hole in the center.

“I tried an experiment with shards that were faced with the user’s cutie mark, but I still couldn’t get the results I wanted,” Starlight admitted. “Also, I kind of messed up on carving it.”

“No, no, it’s perfect!” Rarity smiled, levitating several small balls of thread out of the saddlebag. After pondering for a moment, she selected the turquoise ball, running out a length of string and cutting it with a pair of small scissors. Threading the string through the small hole in the center of the crystal star, she placed the decoration around Starlight’s neck and tied the two ends together in a dainty knot, forming a necklace.

“There,” Rarity nodded approvingly. “Absolutely perfect.”

“Thanks, Rarity,” Starlight smiled, examining her new accessory.

“Mates!” Mainsail suddenly barked. “Over to our port side!”

“Our what?” Pinkie called up in confusion.

“The left, Pinkie,” Twilight explained. “Remember, they both have four letters.”

“Well, why can’t he just say that?” Pinkie asked.

“Guys, look!” Rainbow yelled, pointing. Everypony looked up to see a humongous mass of black clouds, large as an entire armada of enemy ships and just as threatening, looming towards them at an accelerating pace. Flashes of lightning flickered and danced beneath the oncoming squall.

“Rogue storm!” Mainsail shouted. “It’s gonna hit us in minutes!”

“I can clear it,” Rainbow declared determinedly, already spreading her wings to take flight.

“No, it’s too large and too dangerous to try to clear in open sea,” Mainsail cut her off. “Everypony, grab your life jackets!”

“Right!” Twilight called out, gathering up the atlas. With a quick burst of her magic, she extracted several life jackets from the bright yellow-colored crate on the main deck and floated one over to herself and all of the others. Rarity summoned their raincoats from below in a burst of sapphire magic. The friends quickly strapped the safety gear onto themselves.

“Brace yourselves!” Mainsail bellowed, his cry mixing with a great rumble of thunder. “Here she comes!”

The storm struck the sea like the wrath of some bygone deity. Thunder roared like the bellowings of dragons, and lightning ripped through the sky, striking at the churning water. The winds tore at the sails of the Silver Talon, as if trying to rip them from the masts: waves as tall as buildings drenched the decks and soaked the frantically working crew to the bone.

“Up the mizzenmast, you lazy toads!” Satsuma screeched from the poop deck. “Reef those sails before we lose them!”

At her word, several of the crew, clutching their raincoats about them, hurried to climb up the mast, hoping to roll up the sails before the wind could pull them from their mountings. Standing next to her navigator, Whitestone watched her crew hard at work. She wore no jacket to protect her from the icy wind and spray, but her footing was as solid as stone, seemingly unaffected by the storm. Next to her, Roaring clutched an old meerschaum pipe in his beak, one claw held over the bowl in an attempt to protect the precious flame.

A sudden cry pierced above the wind. “Ship to larboard!” the lookout called down from the crow’s nest. Whitestone and Roaring hurried over to the railings, raising their telescopes to their eyes. The enchanted lenses pierced the darkness, making the image they saw seem as clear as day.

A ship could indeed be seen in the distance: a white schooner with golden lettering painted across its sides. It struggled determinedly through the crashing waves, following their path.

“They’re pursuing us,” Whitestone growled.

“Maybe they just got lost? Or they’re exploring?” Satsuma suggested, squinting through the sheets of rain at the distant shape.

“This far south?” Roaring scoffed. “We sailed right off the edge of most maps eighteen hours ago! Bet they’re some of Finder’s friends.”

“We cannot take that risk,” Whitestone stated, collapsing her telescope. “To Wavey Jones’ locker with them.”

Roaring grinned. “BATTLE STATIONS!” he bellowed above the wind. “READY THE STARBOARD CANNONS, YOU LOUTS!”

At his command, there was a chorus of yelling as the crew hurried to their positions. Crews of ponies raced beneath the decks to the cannons. There were twelve of these massive, iron behemoths on the Silver Talon, six of them on each side. Teams of gunners took their positions at the starboard cannons, dampening the barrels and preparing them for firing. Runners hurried down to the magazine within the bowels of the ship, where dozens of seven inch shells stood waiting in rows. Forming a line back up to the cannons, the pirates began to pass along the shells to the waiting gunners, who eagerly stuffed them into the firing chambers of their weapons.

“Bring her about!” Satsuma called to the helmspony. The broad-shouldered unicorn spun the wheel; the ship groaned as it responded begrudgingly, turning to intercept the enemy’s course.

Still locked in his cell in the hold, Phillip looked about, wondering at the sudden noise.

“What’s going on?” one of his guards called to a griffon that rushed past.

“We’ve sighted a ship chasing us!” the griffon replied, passing a shell to the next pony in line.

The words impacted Phillip like a sledgehammer to the face. He knew who it had to be, and his heart sank. Just as his friends’ ship would soon.

“The foresail’s caught! Rainbow, get up there and get it untangled before we lose it!” Mainsail barked at Rainbow Dash.

“On it!” Rainbow called, flying up the foremast to the stuck sail. Searching through the weave of ropes and blocks that held the sail up, she found the tangled ropes and began to use her teeth to straighten them out, battling the icy spray that stung at her face and wings as she did so. Beneath her, Applejack and Pinkie Pie grabbed the supporting ropes and held them tight in their mouths, straining to hold the canvas sheet still as the wind tried to tug it from their grasp.

Finally, the ropes gave, the knot undoing itself. “I got it!” she shouted down. “Pull it up!”

Applejack and Pinkie Pie heaved, tugging the sail upwards. The other ponies rushed to help them in their task, pulling the heavy canvas into place.

A crack of lightning suddenly pierced the sky, causing Rainbow to instinctively flinch, shielding her eyes from the sudden assault of bright light. As her vision recovered, she spotted a strange shape over the cresting waves. Squinting through the sheets of rain, she attempted to discern the object’s identity. Another flash of lightning suddenly threw the incoming object in flickering light, and Rainbow identified it immediately.

“Guys! There’s another ship, over there!” she shouted down, pointing. Every head turned to follow her hoof, peering at the oncoming strangers.

Daring plucked a monocular from her vest and squinted through it, adjusting the focus and turning on the night-vision enhancement. The image through the scope brightened, casting the ship into clear relief. She could see every detail, from the sheen of the silvery paint to the skull and talon flag, flapping violently in the wind.

“Uh-oh,” she muttered.

“Gunners ready!” Roaring shouted down the stairs into the hold. The ear of every pirate turned upwards, awaiting the command as they stood ready beside their cannons.

Whitestone observed the target ship coming into range, tossed closer to them by the wind and waves that could not move her from her position. As soon as they were close enough, she gave the command.

"Fire!"

“FIRE!” Roaring bellowed.

Seizing the firing cords in their talons and mouths, the gunners fired as one. Six different voices roared as one, the sound waves tearing through the ship and the skeleton of every pony and griffon aboard. A thick cloud of smoke and fire, filled with the miasma of cordite, erupted from the starboard side of the Silver Talon. With a high-pitched, shrieking whistle, six shells hurled towards their target.

“INCOMING!” Daring screamed, yanking Fluttershy and Starlight to the deck as the warning whistle sounded through the storm. Everypony else dived to the floor just in time.

The Over There was rocked with several successive concussive blasts as the shells smashed into its hull. Splinters flew everywhere like flocks of angry bees, and would have torn the friends to crimson shreds had Twilight not instinctively thrown up a protective shield around them all. One shell ripped through the main mast like it had been made of paper: with a great groan, the wooden pillar fell to the side and crashed into the sea. The schooner reeled beneath their hooves and began to slowly sink beneath the surface of the water.

“Everypony to the lifeboats!” Flash shouted, helping Twilight to her hooves and pushing her towards the lifeboats on the side.

“Starlight, c’mon!” Applejack yelled, trying to carry Starlight to the lifeboats. But the young unicorn wouldn’t move: her eyes were wide and terrified, and her trembling body was dead weight in Applejack’s grasp.

“Help me with her!” Applejack called out to the others. Rarity ran back and helped Applejack lift up the catatonic Starlight and carry her into one of the two lifeboats. Captain Mainsail climbed in after them, followed by Rainbow Dash.

Flash helped Twilight, Daring, Pinkie and Fluttershy into the other lifeboat. With a cast of her magic, Twilight loosed the cables tying the lifeboats to the ship, causing both of the precious lifeboats to fall into the tumultuous water beneath. Another spell surrounded both of the tiny crafts with purple magic, pulling them away from the Over There. Trim Mainsail stared in silent disbelief and mourning as his beloved schooner slowly disappeared beneath the waves.

“Is everypony all right?” Daring yelled, her voice carrying over the still clamoring wind and thunder of the storm.

“We’re okay!” Rainbow called out from the other lifeboat.

“Now what do we do?” Rarity cried, her voice bordering on hysteria.

“We’ll be okay!” Daring replied. “We’re not that far from Aushaylia, and I’ve got the atlas! We can—”

“Look out!” Mainsail suddenly shouted, pointing. Everypony turned and stared in horror, their brains unable to process what they were seeing. A humongous wall of water, as tall as a building, was bearing down on them with the speed of a freight train and the ferocity of an angry dragon, relentless, unstoppable, and promising destruction.

“BRACE YOURSELVES!” Twilight screamed, cowering in the bottom of the lifeboat along with Fluttershy and Pinkie. Daring and Flash placed themselves on top of the group as the wave crashed down on both lifeboats, submerging the occupants under what felt like tons of dark, cold water.

It took too long for the water to wash away, and once it did, the five ponies looked around for their friends. A flash of lightning cracked across the sky, giving them a brief glimmer of light, and to their horror, they saw that the lifeboat carrying Applejack, Rarity, Starlight, Rainbow Dash and Mainsail was drifting away from them.

“Rainbow!” Daring called out to the group. Rainbow seemed to try to shout something in reply, but her voice was carried away by the wind. Daring instinctively spread her wings to take off, but the storm almost ripped her from the lifeboat instantaneously.

“Come back!” Fluttershy called in vain. The ponies could only watch helplessly as the two lifeboats were pulled farther and farther away from each other, every flash of lightning revealing their shrinking forms. The Over There fully sank beneath the surface, gurgling as she went down into the murky depths. The ponies could only watch as the Silver Talon turned away, resuming its southeast heading, leaving behind the stranded and separated ponies.

The crew of the Silver Talon cheered as the target schooner disappeared beneath the churning waters, the taste of cordite still heavy in the air. “Yeah! Good shooting, lads!” Roaring shouted, pounding his chest proudly.

Whitestone stared until there was nothing left of the ship’s existence, then turned and walked back to the poop deck. "Back to your positions, all of you!" she barked.

Down below, Phillip heard the cheering, the joyful, boasting voices, and they were like knives inserted in his ears. He slowly laid down in a corner of his dark, damp cell, burying his head between his forelegs and bearing his scar-marked back to his captors.

One of his guards sneered at his display. “Your friends were on that ship, weren’t they, Finder?” he mocked.

Phillip pretended he did not hear, commanding himself not to weep.

The hours passed him by silently, without touching him: he seemed to exist in a timeless limbo, unaware of everything around him. Only one thought remained, forever echoing within his brain: his son and future daughter-in-law, his lover, his family were dead, and it was all his fault.

Somewhere in the back of his subconscious, he noticed that the ship had ceased rocking violently, which indicated that the storm had finally subsided. Soon after, there was a distant shout of “Land ho!” from far above, followed by a clamor of activity from the other pirates. Phillip still did not move from his position.

Eventually, there was a squeak of iron as the cell opened and the sound of approaching steps on the rotting wood. “Get up,” Roaring snarled down at him.

Phillip did not react. Growling, Roaring drew back a curled-up claw and punched Phillip in the side of the head, causing him to grunt in pain and shock.

“Get up!” Roaring demanded, giving him a kick for good measure. Roused to semi-consciousness, Phillip felt himself numbly rising to his hooves. Roaring seized him and roughly threw him out of the cell. Three other pirates tightened lassoes around his forelegs and his neck, holding the ends securely. The stared at their captive nervously, being careful to stay as far away from him as possible, as though he was a bad-tempered taipan; but all of the fight had gone out of Phillip. He followed his wardens obediently, moving as though in a dream.

The group emerged onto the deck of the Silver Talon, blinking in the afternoon light. Squinting, Phillip looked about to observe the other pirates disembarking from the ship onto the dinghies. He spotted what looked like another ship not far off from their starboard side and peered at it.

But with a wave of nostalgia, he realized that the large white, sail-like crests did not belong to a ship: they were part of a building, designed so that it looked like a large ship sitting in the bay. His heart leaped as he recognized the Sydneigh Opera House, the place where he, his father, and the band had performed so many times to a packed house, filling the auditorium with the sweet, sweet chords of their jazz music. A bridge connected the Opera House to the mainland, and there it was: Sydneigh. He could see Sammy Slider’s sandwich shop, the red and white awning dancing in the wind, and right next to it, Jamie Brew’s tavern. There was the fruit shop, the bank, the schoolhouse...home spread out before his eyes, a feast for his hungry gaze. He could even see the ponies on the streets, all of them greeting one another with broad smiles that glowed in the sun. He could not stare long enough.

Then, one of the pirates tugged on the rope around his neck, yanking him off-balance and choking him briefly. When he looked up again, the illusion had disappeared. The Opera House was a rotting, yellowing husk. Holes punctured its arched rooftops and the bridge connecting it to the mainland had long ago collapsed into splinters. The town of Sydneigh, his home, was gone: nothing remained but blackened, shriveled ruins, ghosts of what they had once been. The dusty greens and reds of the bush that shivered in the wind had been steadily encroaching on the former town for the past seventeen years, overtaking and reclaiming the land. There was not a single sign of life anywhere in the village.

The pirates guided him over to a dinghy swinging from the starboard and forced him inside. The three rope-bearers, two other pirates, and Roaring followed him in, the first mate signalling a pony on the deck to lower them in. They dropped into the waters of the bay and the two pirates began to row them ashore. The three leash-bearers kept their eyes on Phillip, their expressions tense as they stared at the uncaged lion: Roaring stared coolly at him, one claw held on one of the three cutlasses at his hip, but Phillip made no move to resist.

They drew up to the shore with a shuffling of sand and disembarked, climbing up the hot beach and into the ruined village, walking up what used to be the main road. Pirates were wandering in and out of the burnt shells of homes; occasionally, they would call out to one another whenever they found something interesting, but mostly, their voices were raised in complaint about the heat and lack of valuables to be uncovered. Whitestone herself stood in what used to be the town center, observing her crew at work with an unreadable expression. She turned as the group approached.

“Welcome home, Mr. Finder,” she greeted Phillip in a mocking tone. Phillip glared at her in reply.

“I want you to listen to me, Mr. Finder,” Whitestone continued. “I have a reputation for violence that is well-earned, but I don’t believe in cruelty or unnecessary killing.”

Behind Phillip, Roaring growled something unintelligible. Whitestone shot him a brief glance, then turned back to Phillip. “Now, I know you don’t fear death, so you wouldn’t help us just because we threatened to kill you. So I’m going to give you an offer. You help us find your ancestor’s treasure, we bring you back to the mainland and let you go. You don’t, and we find the treasure anyway, and we leave you here to die.” She paused, evaluating Phillip’s reaction. “Like it or not, we are your only option to get off this island.”

“And how can I trust a pirate?” Phillip said, his voice an attempt at a growl, but he couldn’t keep a small quaver out of his tone.

“You're going to take it on faith,” Whitestone stated with a smirk. “You’ll be needing these.” She pulled two books out of her saddlebags and handed them to Phillip. He recognized the canvas of Bushwacker’s journal and Billabong’s transcription. He opened the transcription up to the last pages, to the songline, and read it to himself:

I looked upon the Wandering Colt’s face,
Where the Rainbow Serpent slept.
The Seven Sisters sang to me,
And called me to their rest.
I followed their trail, I followed their song,
Until I found the blood-stained rock,
Beneath which the wandjina danced.
There, I found my hidden treasure,
And opened it with the key I held
In my deepest sleep.

“You know where these are?” Whitestone asked.

“Yes,” Phillip stated flatly.

“Good,” Whitestone nodded. “Roaring?”

“You five,” the first mate barked. “Let’s get moving.”

The pirates surrounded Phillip, the three leash-bearers still holding tight to the ropes around him, and allowed him to lead them eastwards.

But as they reached the edge of Sydneigh, Phillip stopped suddenly, his head turning towards one of the burnt shells of a cottage. He stared at the blackened front door, looked through the broken, dust-covered windows into rooms that he knew were empty, and all of a sudden, he was thirteen years old again, his flanks bare and his hooves soaked in the blood of the one pony he loved...there was a storm raging down upon him, wind and rain lashing at his face, and he threw his head back and screamed, screamed at the thunder, screamed out his rage and denial at the God who had abandoned him…

“Move it!” Roaring snapped, striking him over the head. Phillip grunted as he was jolted out of the memory and continued walking, his head down and his breath trembling. He looked down at his hooves as they continued to mechanically propel him forward, and for a moment, he imagined that his forelegs were soaked in hot, liquid blood, dripping down his leg and leaving behind crimson hoofprints. The blood of his father, the blood of the ponies he’d murdered, the blood of his family.

His home was gone. His people were gone. He had nothing left.

Nothing but revenge.

An icy coldness spread across his torso, chill winds bashing against the interior of his ribcage. The rain traveled upwards to his eyes and made them sting, but he refused to allow the tears to fall, instead looking upwards to glare at his captors.

Let him wait. Let him bide his time.

And when the moment was right, let him soak his skin in the blood of Whitestone and her crew, just like so many before them.

Author's Notes:

It's a three-course serving of feels, hot off the grill!

But what of the other ponies, now lost in uncharted waters? Stay tuned, readers.