When the Ocean Wavesby ashi
Chapters
1. Wave Back
It was early in the morning.
It was the harshest winter that Horseshoe Bay had seen in some time.
I had the beach all to myself.
The snow-dusted sand, a sprinkling of sugar over a crumbly dessert, crunched deliciously under my hooves – the kind of crunch that made your gums feel sympathetically tingly as you pictured filling your mouth with something sweet and warm – and I barely noticed the biting cold as that delightful sound echoed out across the vast stillness; it was a palpable silence, one that blanketed the area with a morass almost as thick as the coastal fog which reduced visibility to just a few metres in front of my, literally, rose-tinted eyes.
The sort of silence that I could almost touch.
Turning my head, my eyes lingered over the path that had brought me here; already, the falling snow served to disguise the slight indentations I had left behind in the slushy trail. I'd often heard it said that, when you visit somewhere, you should leave nothing behind but hoofprints. For a moment, I stood and stared, watching in interest as the tiny gaps were clotted with a filmy white balm, almost as if the earth itself was moving to repair the wounds that my puny lilac hooves had so thoughtlessly done to its skin.
I leave so little impression on the world.
With the fog obscuring my vision, I could no longer see it, but familiarity told me exactly where it was to be found; the home that I shared with my family was back there somewhere at the other end of the path, and familiarity also told me exactly what they would be doing right now: sitting together, sharing love and warmth and stories and hot cocoa, wondering why that weird pony who lived with them was out fooling around in the cold again.
I love them as much as I am able to, and they are no doubt fond of me, I think – they've certainly never done anything to indicate otherwise, and I appreciate their bemused tolerance of my quirks – but sometimes, I need this personal time. It recharges me in a way that I cannot quite articulate.
Certainly, I've never been able to provide them with an explanation that they find satisfactory whenever I return home with another case of the sniffles.
New sounds soon filled my ears and they have perked up of their own accord, not wishing to miss a single note of the beach's serene, lonesome melody; it was too bitter a day for even a single, solitary gull to make its presence felt, so there was none of their idle chatter to break up the mellifluous flow of water gently lapping at the rocks with its distinct sploshing cadence. I couldn't help but giggle at the abyssal plop that rang out when the two streams – split in twain when they had thrown themselves in a futile charge against the impervious mass of floury ochre sediment – reconnected with each other and rushed to fill the aching void of air their separation had created between them.
The way they come together reminds me of the fillies and colts greeting each other at the train station, although that's more of a squelchy noise if anything.
I close my eyes, allowing my body to sway gently in time to the flippant rhythms of the refreshing breeze that grips my blue-grey mane and tousles it as my father so often does whenever he catches me doing something endearing; peace fills my heart, and for a moment I can pretend that the elements are far more elemental than a mere side-effect of the work of hundreds of highly-trained pegasus ponies operating in unison.
My schoolmates like to swap horror stories of places in Equestria where the weather is wild and untamed, operating to no schedule but its own, in order to terrify each other. I can't help thinking that I'd like to visit, maybe even live in, one of those places someday.
Maybe it'd help me feel less odd?
Snapping out of my reverie, I crouched down, my enthralled glaucous tail still swishing back and forth with the hypnotic undulations of the wind – it was a little bit more difficult to ignore the sudden chill that spread throughout my body from my butt upwards as it came to a rest on the frigid ground and I all I could hear was my teeth chattering loudly together – and I scooped up some of the sand; it felt hard and rough in my hoof, not at all like the smooth, free-flowing dust that had ruined many a picnic. I peered at it curiously for a moment before balling it up and flicking it away. Rubbing the hooves of my forelegs together, I sadly departed with the remaining detritus, then got back on to all four legs.
So rough, in fact, was the sand that, even with the thickened pads at the bottom of my hooves forming a barrier, it hurt to walk on; its ongoing war with the snow had hardened it, shaping each grain into a series of whetted daggers that sought to attack any enemy that blithely wandered into its territory. Tiny tremors of pain prickled up my legs, but that was not enough to deter me from my goal.
I'd had worse whenever I've accidentally stepped on my little brother's building blocks.
The wonderful, invigorating scent of the ocean hit me hard and fast; like deep-fried hayfries smothered in salt the tang forced its way into my nostrils, providing me with a sublimely inebriating sensation that left me feeling quite light-headed. I breathed in deeply, wishing to take into my body as much of that intoxicating flavour as I could stomach. Just as with hayfries, I could only have so much of it before I started to feel bloated and sick, however.
Reluctantly, I tore my gaze away from the wavy pulsations of the sea and turned my attention, instead, to the sky above; a dense accumulation of clouds made it appear as white as the ground, but the coverage was not total, nor was the composite as entirely uniform as it first appeared. They had a surreal, almost dreamlike, aspect to them, as if the lightly swirling whorls had been deftly painted into place by an artist on a ruddy canvas.
Though even the warmth of Celestia's sun was powerless to cut through the glacial conditions permeating my beach, it was still a beautiful sight to behold, and behold it I did until I could bear its majesty no longer and was forced to avert my eyes. What it represented ran deeper than being just a simple glowing orb that provided light and heat; it was the hope and love of a nation, distilled into one shining beacon that watched over us all.
How many other ponies are watching the sunrise right now, thinking that exact same thing?
The wind, having finished teasing some nearby leaves, returned to tug at my hair once more; my hooves, operating independently, brought me to a rocky outcropping and I sat down. Despite the gale nipping at me, I felt nothing but a sense of contentment surge through my body. I closed my eyes, happy to do nothing more than simply allow the sounds of the beach to wash over me. I was so lucky to have this day, to have this place to myself. Something tickles the hooves of my dangling hindlegs.
Something wet and cold.
I open my eyes, just in time to catch the ocean in the act of trying to catch my attention by spraying my hooves with salt water again.
Delicately, I dip my left hoof into the water, breaking the surface as much as I dare – after what happened on the path earlier, I'm a little bit more careful – and kick gently, sending a few drops flying gracefully into the air. I track their movements until they splash back down with a soft pat, the sea becoming whole once more in the process.
The ocean waved to me. It's only polite that I return the gesture.
Swinging my hindlegs around and stepping back on to the grainy sand, a silly grin breaks out across my muzzle; the sun's rays have caused the fog to lift somewhat, and a short distance across the beach I can just about make out the remnants of an old ice-cream stand. I approach it, I appraise it, I circle it with wide-eyed curiosity. My mind's eye is filled with visions of warm summer afternoons, the crush of ponies seeking a sweet treat forming a serpentine queue snaking its way across the shoreline, and I can't help but feel an ache in my heart for this poor, forgotten stall. Within its old wooden frame, I can almost smell the essences of chocolate, strawberry and vanilla soaked into its very soul, and I stroke its rotting timbers affectionately.
They reply by issuing a startled creak.
I have a hunch that the ice-cream stand wishes to be left alone; like myself, perhaps it wants to enjoy the pleasures of this cool winter's morning by itself, or perhaps it knows that it hasn't much time left to it and wants to get its affairs in order. In either case, I respect its desire for solitude and make my way back to the outcropping where the sea first introduced itself to me.
Once again, I am overwhelmed by a peaceful feeling suffusing me; it is a warm, comforting blanket made with the love of a doting mother, but it is not meant for the body, but for the spirit. A vague glimmer of sorrow clutches my bosom as the realisation dawns that I will likely never enjoy so tranquil a day upon this beach again.
Closing my eyes, my new friends close at hoof, I allow the tears that have been building to fall.
2. Go Crusading
A tiny unicorn watched in mute fascination as the weather team pulled the last of the errant clouds into their assigned positions; in spite of the sun blazing fiercely overhead, none of its heat was reaching the snow-laden ground now thanks to the efforts of the pegasi to diffuse it.
This beach was normally a popular tourist destination, or simply a place for those with nowhere else to go to cause trouble when they were bored, but it was bereft of life as it was currently blanketed by a thick layer of frost; there was nopony to be found … nopony, that is, apart from the little unicorn filly with the lilac coat who was currently crunching merrily through the powdery flurry without a care in the world, her red scarf fluttering just as excitedly behind her.
Most ponies would have found the aching emptiness depressing, but Sea Swirl wasn't most ponies; growing up in a small seaside village that was only busy during the height of summer, she'd quickly learned the most important lesson of all: that her imagination would have to provide the stimulation that the lack of amenities in her homestead couldn't.
For her, it easy to pretend that the wide open space of the beach was the benighted, terror-strewn landscape of Changelings, minions of Discord, and other legendary nasties, and that she was in the midst of some epic quest to recover the mythical Elements of Harmony in order to restore peace and justice to the land! Her pace quickened into a canter as she picked the direction that would, hopefully, lead to them; the wind sweeping across the coast obliterated Sea Swirl's hoofprints in seconds, but that didn't matte. This was her well-traversed domain, and even sheathed in endless white, there was no facet of it that she couldn't recognise with only the slightest of glances.
But she was no longer Sea Swirl; she was Sea Swirl the Bearded, using her mighty spells to fend off threats to Princess Celestia. She did her best not to slip on the icy terrain underhoof as she scampered excitedly across the chilly dunes, igniting her horn and engaging in mortal combat with Nightmare Moon who had cunningly taken on the form of a bare, trembling oak tree to try and outwit her. Nightmare Moon's branch-like tendrils snaked out to grab her, but Sea Swirl was too quick, too agile, and she moved out of their desperate reach easily. A surge of magic flowed through her horn and she unleashed a shower of blue sparks at the demonic entity.
Victory!
Had there been anypony else nearby, the only sound they would have had heard, other than Sea Swirl's titanic struggle, was that of the water lapping against the shore; others couldn't bear the crippling loneliness, the all-consuming bareness of it all, for very long before they went mad, but this was where Sea Swirl thrived.
This was where she was forged.
Cold never bothered her.
Isolation was a blessing.
Her mind was her best friend.
Before she even realised what she was doing, Sea Swirl forgot about her battle with Nightmare Moon and was yanking her scarf free with her rudimentary magical skills, casting it to the rising gust without a second's thought or hesitation; her wellies went next, impulsively tossed aside as she heedlessly dashed toward the frigid stretch of ocean before her.
She was dimly aware that her horn was now glowing of its own accord, and she wondered what it could mean; her magic had never been especially powerful, even for such a young filly, and it usually took an incredible effort of will to perform even those simple spells that other unicorns took for granted. Needless to say, she had been taunted more than once at school for her lack of aptitude.
Some mad drive that she was barely aware of was pushing her onwards; a second before reaching the water, Sea Swirl felt her legs coiling like springs and she leapt into the air. Her graceful arc came to an abrupt halt when her forelegs breached the mirror-smooth surface with a heavy thud, and a stinging, icy shock thrilled through her body forcing a gasp of alarm from her as she realised just what a monumentally foolish thing it was that she'd just done.
It seemed that Sea Swirl was going to have very little time to regret her rash actions, however. Cold was one thing, but this was cold. Ice water pressed cloyingly against every inch of her small body; the air was forced from her lungs, and she felt numbing fingers encircle her legs and drag her downwards to the murky void far below.
Sea Swirl kicked as hard as she could. She knew that all of her scant reserves of energy had been sapped just trying to keep her body warm; her legs were heavy and tired, treading uselessly at the sticky fluid all around her. Eventually, though, her head broke through the viscid liquid, and she sucked in a grateful, though stinging, lungful of breath. She wiped her violet mane from her eyes, and it hung in heavy rattails down her neck, and she tried to puzzle out just what had possessed her to do such a silly thing. Rational thought, however, was slow to return.
A cry interrupted her attempts at introspection.
Seeking out the origin of that plaintive wail gave Sea Swirl a renewed sense of vigour and she immediately forgot about her own concerns as she swam as quickly as she could in the direction that she guessed the noise was coming from; there was a small rock pool she knew of – normally enclosed and safe when the tide was out, but treacherous in conditions such as these – that foals liked to play in, and for a moment she was worried that somepony might have become trapped in there, entangled amongst the ferns and reeds. There weren't that many families around these parts, and while she hurried to the pool, she tried to think who else but her could possibly be outside on a day like this.
No, not some pony, some thing. The encroaching darkness as the sun was hidden from sight by the pegasi's fog, as well as the snow-laden vegetation it had become mired in, made it difficult to work out exactly what the beast was, and Sea Swirl approached the odd creature hesitantly. It was rather short and stubby, barely much larger than a foal, with a rounded head and blunt muzzle. Its leathery hide was a lustrous silvery-grey. Its eyes were intriguing, glittering black jewels; narrow and onyx-like, they stared out at her with equal apprehension.
I really need to pay more attention in school instead of daydreaming.
When Sea Swirl was barely a few feet from it, it rocked and quivered from side to side, trying to loose itself from its impromptu entrenchment. Its panic only succeeded in allowing it to become further ensnared in the briar.
“Hey, hey, little one, sh,” Sea Swirl said, mimicking the voice that her mother sometimes used to coo her, trying to speak soothingly despite how much her teeth were chattering because of the freezing water. “I'm not going to hurt you, whatever you are. I probably couldn't, anyway,” she added with a sardonic chuckle. All traces of levity fled from her demeanour as she glimpsed the sorry state that the creature was in. Judging by the way that the pernicious vines were digging into its soft flesh, it had been stuck here for some time. If she hadn't happened to be pulled by here when she had …
Something to think about it.
Sea Swirl wondered how it was that the animal had managed to become trapped here. Had it been swimming along with its family and got swept off course by a strong current? Were they still out there somewhere, looking for it? She hoped so. She didn't like the idea of releasing it only for it to be lost and alone in the vastness of the ocean. Maybe it had come to this place looking for adventure, too? “You and I would probably be fast friends if we'd met under better circumstances, huh?” she asked, hoping that, if it didn't at least understand Equish, it would understand that she only wanted to help it get loose.
Once more, the creature flailed about as Sea Swirl drew herself in closer to where it was trapped. She was practically brushing against its hide now and it wasn't the least bit happy about that. “I'm sorry,” she said through gritted teeth as the animal bucked against her, a blow from its powerful fluke almost sending her sprawling back into the deeper water, “but I need to cut away these reeds or you're not gonna be able to get out of here.” Whether it somehow understood her words, or was simply reacting to her reassuring mien, the creature relaxed somewhat and allowed the filly to go to work on its bindings.
With some brisk hoofwork, and a little bit of help from her bashful horn, Sea Swirl was able to snap, pull and twist at the plants, reeds and assorted other plant matter trapping the animal until it was able to wiggle its way out of the remainder of the gunk by itself; with a mighty beat of its undeveloped fins, it cleared the rock pool and was once more back in the open sea.
If the way in which the creature tumbled and spun in the water was any indication, Sea Swirl guessed that it was happy to be free of its confinement; it darted through the water, powering through the current like a missile, frolicking and gamboling spontaneously. Occasionally, to the filly's great amazement, it would even launch itself into the air, before crashing back down and sending icy droplets scattering everywhere. Sea Swirl couldn't help but giggle at its antics, but she stopped suddenly when a thought belatedly occurred to her: had it been the creature itself that, somehow, compelled her to come here, causing her to disregard her own safety in order to rescue it?
Sea Swirl ruminated on that and was about to make her way back to the shore now that the strange animal had disappeared from her sight, but she was halted in her tracks by two bulky yet graceful forms cutting through the surf; she moved away slowly hoping to avoid attracting their attention, treading the water as her weary legs worked to get her to dry land in one piece, when she realised that they were quickly approaching her location. They were of similar appearance to the creature that she'd just helped, only several times larger. They were, at a rough guess, at least twice as big as a fully grown stallion, and Sea Swirl swallowed nervously when it dawned on her that there was no way to make it to the safety of the beach before they caught up with her.
They drew to a halt no more than twenty feet away from her; the smaller creature, presumably their child, continued toward her in an almost bashful fashion. Sea Swirl stayed rigid, panting heavily, not daring to move a muscle; she figured that it was probably best to let whatever was going to happen happen. She didn't sense any malice from the animals, and she doubted there was a whole lot that the smaller one could do to her given how easily it had been defeated by some overgrown flora.
Right. And the water in her immediate vicinity was turning yellow because of sea pony magic.
The strange animal drew its snub-nosed head level with Sea Swirl's and … nuzzled against it softly; its wet, fishy musk was far from pleasant, but considering what she'd feared happening Sea Swirl accepted the embrace enthusiastically. No more than a few brief seconds had elapsed before it swam back to its parents and they then departed to their home in the ocean depths together.
Sea Swirl stared after them, her eyes going wide; it took a few moments for it to register with her what had just occurred, and when the realisation hit, she burst out laughing. Or at least, it would've been a burst if she'd had any energy left. She rocked silently, her limbs thrashing pathetically in the water. It was something that she'd been told off for so many times herself by peevish relatives.
The ill-mannered child was attempting to leave without having said thank you and its parents were making sure it remembered to be civil when somepony did something nice for it. “You're welcome,” Sea Swirl said quietly to the withdrawing family, her foreleg extending out in a wave.
By the time she'd made it back to the safety of the bank, the surge of adrenaline that had kept her going while she'd rescued the animal had finally worn off and the exhausted filly slumped muzzle-first, too tired to even think about limping toward home, into the snow, barely cognizant of the fact that she was inhaling shards of ice into her nostrils. She felt so faint, in fact, that she'd even stopped noticing just how cold it actually was. All she wanted right now was to sleep. For a thousand years, if possible.
“Sea Swirl!” a voice said urgently, calling out to her as if coming from a great distance. She looked up to see a stallion approaching her, a grim expression on his muzzle. “For Celestia's sake, what the hay were you thinking going swimming in this weather?” It was a tone that was at once scolding and affectionate, and Sea Swirl guessed that the pony it belonged to was her father, Tempest.
“It's-” the filly struggled gamely to her feet, but to no avail. “It's a long story, dad.” No doubt, she knew that she was going to pay the price for this little sojourn: still, suffering a heavy cold after such an experience would be worth it and Sea Swirl managed a faint smile.
“I bet,” her father replied, leaning down to scoop his precious filly up in his strong forelegs. She nuzzled against his warm barrel and he smiled down at her lovingly. Tempest's eyes quickly scanned his daughter for any injuries; he didn't find any, but he did see something unusual enough to remark upon. “Have you … felt any different today?”
“Huh? Dad, I'm too tired for riddles,” Sea Swirl replied, stifling a yawn. Normally, she was all for games, but right now she just wanted to literally hit the hay.
“Humour me,” he said, stroking her mane softly. “Did something unusual happen to you today?”
“Well.” She summoned up what little she had left in her and said, “My horn. It just lit up by itself and I felt as though I was being pulled toward something. That something turned out be some kind of animal trapped in the bay. I freed it.”
Her father looked thoughtful for a moment. “Such magical surges have been known to happen in unicorns from time to time. No pony quite understands how or why they happen, however. “And-”
“- And what?” asked Sea Swirl, swaying in his legs uncertainly as Tempest's dramatic pause had left her feeling a little bit uneasy about what he'd possibly found.
“You have your cutie mark.” She heard just the faintest note of pride lacing his voice.
“What is it?” Despite her tiredness, excitement coursed through her.
“It looks a bit like two dolphins, or maybe porpoises, to me,” replied Tempest, moving his head down to get a closer look. “I'm sure we have a book on marine life at home, so we'll be able to check for sure once we get there. They're the same colours as your mane, by the way.”
Her raspberry eyes lighting up, Sea Swirl said, “Sounds pretty.”
“It is. Very.”
Sea Swirl didn't hear him, however, as she had already drifted off to sleep. Her dreams were of the ocean and all the wonderful things – animals and otherwise – to be found there.