Twilight leaned over the prow of the Log Flume and squinted off into the distance, trying to make out any irregularities on the horizon against the backdrop of the sunrise. Unlike yesterday, this time, she actually could. It wasn’t much, but there was definitely something there. Something that couldn’t just be attributed to waves.

She levitated the spyglass in front of her, adjusted it. And it was far, but she could pick out a shore of some kind. It was still too far away to clearly make out what was on it, but it looked like a forest (or jungle, more likely) came right up to the waterline and stretched out up and down the coast as far as Twilight could see. The trees (assuming they were trees) were tightly packed together, but, happy day, there was a clear break in them were a river ran out and emptied into the ocean.

She grinned. “Gotcha,” she whispered.

“Spotted land, Princess?” asked Ponente from behind her.

“I think so,” said Twilight. “Take a look. And for the umpteenth time, you can stop calling me ‘Princess’.” She stepped aside, keeping the spyglass suspended for Ponente.

Ponente peered through the spyglass and started twitching her wings in that way they did when she was thinking quickly. “Yep,” she said after a moment, “that’s land, alright. We’ll keep a steady clip, get there in a little over an hour. No need to rush, and we don’t know what the shoreline’s like. And it’s my ship, so I can call you whatever I darn well please, and you’re a princess, so I’m calling you princess, Princess.”

Twilight yanked the spyglass away and lightly swatted Ponente with it. “Any chance I can royally issue a decree to order you stop, since you keep reminding me of the title that allows me to do that?”

“You may be a princess,” Ponente said as she rubbed her head, “but as I said, this is my ship, where I am a goddess, undisputed ruler of all I see and all who live within these decks. So… nope.”

Twilight couldn’t help but smile. “You’re insufferable.”

“Captain’s perks.” Ponente smiled back, then started heading towards the back of the ship. “I’ll get the crew ready to make landfall. You keep an eye on that, make sure it doesn’t creep up too fast on us.”

Twilight nodded and turned back towards the land. She tried to get a sharper picture from the spyglass, but the land was too far away. Still, it was land, and after over a week on a ship, it was better than nothing. Twilight hadn’t gotten seasick (the Flume was much too stable for that), but it’d feel good to finally be back on the ground, where “down” wasn’t constantly shifting relative to the floor.

THREE MONTHS AGO

They were out of bread. How could they run out of bread? It was pretty much the thing you always picked up when you went to market. It was a bummer; Twilight was just about to devour a succulent aloeburger, left over from two nights ago, and found out they were completely and utterly out of bread.

However, going out to pick up some bread revealed a few perks to Twilight: mainly, going to the market just after noon meant that most ponies (at least those who hadn’t been stupid enough to forget bread) had either already completed their shopping or weren’t ready to do it just yet, and so the place was emptier than usual. With little to no lines, Twilight had picked up a few loaves and was about to head home when she noticed-

“Zecora!” Twilight called out. “I haven’t seen you in ages!”

On the road into the Everfree, Zecora stopped and turned to the sound of her name. She smiled. “Well, isn’t this just such a sight,” she said. “Ponyville’s own princess, Twilight. But where is Spike? Surely he can come out and buy…” She glanced at Twilight’s bags. “…bread, I see.”

“I’m giving him a light day,” said Twilight. “He had a rough time last week with all those Trottingham dignitaries coming and going. Besides, it’s just bread. What’re you out here for?”

“I had need of a certain flower to boil and stew for about an hour,” said Zecora. “Within its petals, a fine taste lurks, but getting it out requires some work.”

But as Zecora was talking, Twilight’s mind suddenly jumped to a topic only tangentially related, as it was wont to do. A time when Zecora had trouble shopping nobody had known what she was. None of her friends, and possibly nobody in Ponyville, had recognized her as a zebra. It was one thing for them to not be familiar with the species, but to be completely ignorant of their existence was another thing entirely.

Where were all the other zebras?

Well, the first step came to asking Zecora why she was here in the first place. “Hey, Zecora? If you don’t mind me asking, what made you leave Gondwana in the first place? What made you come all the way to Equestria?”

Zecora just shrugged, unfazed by the sudden jump in topic. “An urge to see what lay beyond the paths I had already trod. I simply wanted to set my eyes on the other side of the horizon.”

“Oh,” said Twilight. Her mind was already a thousand miles away. Coming here on your own just because you were bored at home was… daunting, given the distance to Gondwana. But, still, Zecora was one of the few zebras in Equestria. Why had none of the others banded together and sailed to Equestria in a larger ship? Ponies had g-

Twilight cut her thoughts short, realizing she was zoning out, her wandering mind was in danger of not coming back, and Zecora was giving her odd looks. “Well, um, it was nice to see you, Zecora,” Twilight said, “but I’m hungry, so, um, see you.” And she was gone before she heard a response.

Something was up. Not with Zecora, she was fine, with zebras in general. Zecora had come over here easily enough, so what was with the complete lack of other zebras? Gondwana was a good distance away, true, but Zecora had come. Ponies had gone and come back. It was hardly insurmountable. Something with the government? Twilight didn’t know what the government of Gondwana was like. Oppressive? Maybe, but Zecora had claimed she’d come over simply because she wanted to come over, and she wasn’t the type to lie on something like this. Probably. Was Gondwana isolationist? Maybe. Equestria was more isolationist than Twilight liked to admit; they hadn’t opened relations with Gondwana, after all.

This was something to look into. To think about. To investigate. To examine. To research!

After she dug into that aloeburger.

Applejack had never really gotten any sea legs. She’d never gotten seasick, but as she approached Twilight, she went slowly and did her best to stay very close the railing, in spite of the Flume barely rocking at all. Twilight still wasn’t sure if Applejack really really really didn’t have any sea legs or was just overly-cautious. She never asked, and wasn’t going to.

Eventually, she managed to claw her way through the bustle of sailors getting ready to land and reached the prow next to Twilight. She wrapped her forelegs around the railing and followed Twilight’s gaze to the horizon. “That Gondwana?” she asked.

“Yep,” said Twilight. She was looking through the spyglass again. The trees were closer, and now she could see the space between them. They were still close together, but not as bad as she’d thought.

“‘Bout time,” said Applejack. “I was about ready to jump ship and swim back to Baltimare to get some good, solid earth under my hooves.” She shuffled her rear hooves, trying to get a more stable grip on the deck. As the deck itself was unstable, she was fighting a losing battle. “Why can’t they just go and make a ship that just stays flat? That don’t try to throw us off once it hits a wave?”

“They’ve tried that,” said Twilight. “The designs either made things worse or were way too expensive.”

“Hmph.”

Twilight held the spyglass out to Applejack. “Want a look?”

“Nah. There’s gonna be some ponies goin’ ashore for a few minutes, right? I’ll go with ‘em and see the land up close then. Anythin’ to get off this ship for a little.”

“If you insist.”

Ponente yelled out from the rear decks to nopony in particular. “If you’re going with the shore party, lifeboat’s getting ready on port! Be there or be square!”

“And there’s my call,” said Applejack, crawling along the railing towards the left side of the ship. “You’re comin’ too, right? Flyin’ there?”

“Yeah. Me and my guards.” Twilight folded her ears back and muttered, “I told them they didn’t need to come with me, but they just would not take no for an answer.”

“Come on, sugarcube, ease up a little, they’re just doin’ their jobs.”

“Doesn’t mean I like it. Anyway, see you ashore.”

“Same here.”

TWO MONTHS AGO

Twilight hadn’t come down for breakfast. That wasn’t too bad. What was bad was that this was the third day in a row this had happened.

Taking the tray of food with him, Spike headed to Twilight’s room and poked his head in on the off chance that she- No, she wasn’t in her room. He hadn’t thought so, but it didn’t hurt to be sure. And since she wasn’t here, she’d be in…

Twilight’s study was even more of a mess than it usually was. Books were scattered — scattered — everywhere, leaving a bare strand of floor almost a foot wide the only clear route from the door. At her desk, Twilight was slumped over and staring at a book, but Spike could tell she wasn’t really reading it. She looked worn, tired, the same way she had yesterday and the day before.

Spike began picking his way through the mess, being careful to not tip the tray. “Alright, Twilight,” he said, “what’s up? This is the third night in a row you’ve stayed up all night reading. Normally when you do that, you look a bit happier than this.” He quietly slipped away the book and replaced it with the tray. “Come on, eat something.”

Twilight blinked blearily at him. “Books have failed me, Spike,” she mumbled.

“Huh?”

“Books have faaaaailed meeEEeeEEeeEEee,” Twilight wailed, and planted her face in her oatmeal.

Spike pulled up a stool to sit beside Twilight. “Come on, Twilight, how can you say that? If anyone can find something in a book, it’s you.”

Twilight lifted up her head just enough so her mouth was above the oatmeal’s surface. “It doesn’t do much good if that something isn’t in a book.” She dropped her head again.

“Something that isn’t in a book?” He said it slow, to be sure he got it right; Spike had lived with Twilight for long enough that the idea was as foreign to him as subtlety was to yaks. “How’s that possible?”

Twilight sat up straight. “It’s Gondwana,” she said as she wiped her face down. “The zebra homeland. There’s practically nothing about it in my books, or even the books from the Canterlot archives, and most of what is there is just copied from earlier books. And then there are the authors who actually have something going for them, then just up and vanish when they’re getting to the good stuff!”

“Hmm?” Twilight was talking about something Spike didn’t understand, and she was leading to something, and that meant “Hmm?” was the best response.

“Dr. Livingstone.” Twilight gestured to a well-organized, but rather small, pile of books to one side. “She went to Gondwana several times in the past twenty years, and she seems to have the most information about it, but six years ago, she left on another trip and never came back. And she was just about to get really in-depth on zebra culture, from the direction of things.” Twilight groaned, nudged her oatmeal aside, and planted her face on the table where her oatmeal had been.

“Are you sure you just haven’t looked hard enough?”

“I’ve been at this for a month, Spike.”

“…Yep, that’s probably looking hard enough.” Spike took a look at all the books piled around Twilight. Some of them didn’t seem to have anything to do with zebras or Gondwhat-Was-it-Again, and were instead only tenuously related. Say, Non-Equestrian Equines, or The Atlas of Uncharted Lands (how was that possible?). Even for Twilight, there was quite a bit of them. “Why the sudden obsession with zebras?”

“It’s Zecora.” Twilight sat up again and rubbed her nose. “She’s one of the only zebras in Equestria. Maybe the only zebra. But why? I mean…” She pulled out an atlas and began leafing through it. “Gondwana’s right there!” She jabbed her hoof at Gondwana on the map. It didn’t exist as much more than shoreline and a few landmarks, but it was there.

“Twi, you do notice the five thousand miles of ocean between here and there, right?”

Twilight slammed the book shut. “Like that’s ever stopped anypony. It didn’t stop Zecora. It didn’t stop Nachtigallop. It didn’t stop Livingstone. So why’s it stopping everypony else? On both sides of the ocean, for that matter.” She tapped her chin and frowned, staring up at the ceiling. “Still, five thousand miles is five thousand miles, and that’s just a one-way trip. The time sink might be too much for most ponies.”

Spike fidgeted a little on his stool, not sure what to say. He’d never been one for travel, barring that last dragon migration. Staying home was much better and safer. Twilight, on the other claw… Idea. “Why don’t you go there and find out? You could have a friendship summit with the zebras. Explore new places, meet new people… Wouldn’t that be great?” He didn’t mind if Twilight took him along; he always felt safer with her.

Twilight smiled and rubbed Spike lightly on the head. “I was just thinking of that, Spike. I’ve spent all this time on friendship in Equestria that I didn’t even think about the rest of the world.”

Sliding off her chair, she flared her wings and rolled them around, trying to get the blood flowing again. “I’ll need to talk to Celestia about this. I’m sure she’ll be fine with it, but I can’t just up and leave her for Gondwana for I don’t know how long without telling her.” She yawned. “But first, I need to get some sleep.” She shuffled out of the room.

She left the tray behind. Spike sighed. What a waste of perfectly good oatmeal.

From Twilight’s position in the air, it was hard to tell, but it looked like Applejack didn’t like the lifeboat any more than she liked the Flume. She was low in her seat in the middle, eyes closed, trying her darndest to ignore the rocking of the boat. Probably with little success. At least there weren’t too many waves.

Twilight wanted to jump right to shore, but her two guards were having none of that. They wanted to stay with the lifeboat. Well, Cumulus looked like he was open to moving faster, but Stormwalker shot down all of her objections with nine words over and over and over.

“Even if I go to shore now,” she said, “it’ll only take a few more minutes for the boat to get there.”

“Your Highness, we need to stay with the boat.”

“I’m an alicorn. And my special talent is magic. And I’ve put considerable effort into studying both offensive and defensive spells. I can protect myself fine. It won’t be dangerous in the slightest for me.”

“Your Highness, we need to stay with the boat.”

“I’ll issue a royal edict saying we don’t need to stay with the boat!”

“Your Highness, we need to stay with the boat.”

And that’d been the end of that. Twilight sighed as she flew slowly through the air, staring at the boat below. Aside from Applejack, all the ponies in there looked like they were enjoying themselves at least a little. Applejack looked up, grinned awkwardly, and gave Twilight a small wave. Twilight waved back. They were kind of in the same boat. Relatively speaking.

After an eternity that probably lasted only a minute, Twilight alighted on the beach, flanked by her guards, at the same time the boat landed. Applejack was out of the boat in a second and kissing the ground, hugging it where she could. “I ain’t never gettin’ on a boat again in my life,” she said. “Never never never.”

Ponente smirked and jabbed her in the ribs. “So you’ll be staying here for the rest of forever?”

Applejack paused. “…I’m gettin’ on a boat only once more in my life.”

Ponente chuckled and shook her head, then turned to the jungle. “What d’you reckon?” she asked.

Twilight could’ve asked the same thing. The trees were dense, and there was a lot of undergrowth between them; they could hack their way through, but there was no telling what they’d run into. She didn’t know what sorts of animals lived here, what the climate was like, what the landscape was like, or how deep the jungle was. Stupid isolationism stupidly not getting any stupid information on stupid Gondwana.

“I don’t know,” said Twilight. “What do you reckon?”

“Dunno either.” Ponente glanced at the river for a moment. “We could follow the river. It’d have water, at least. But it’ll put us in a lot of trouble if it turns out it ends in the jungle. And just following the coast is risky, since we don’t know how far the jungle spreads in either direction.”

Stupid isolationism. Stupid lack of stupid maps. That was what Twilight was here to alleviate, but it was still all so stupid stupid stupid. She spread her wings. “Why don’t I go up there and get a look around?” she asked. “If the jungle doesn’t spread too far, we can just go that way. Otherwise, well, we’ll see, right?”

From her position to the left of and just behind Twilight, Stormwalker cleared her throat before Ponente could speak up. “Your Highness, I must advise ag-”

“Stuff it,” said Twilight, flicking her tail. This had gone on long enough. “I don’t need you hovering over me, metaphorically or literally, every second of every day. I can take care of myself for a few seconds in the air, thanks. As your princess, I’m ordering you to stand down just this once.”

Stormwalker huffed and folded her ears back a little, but said, “If you insist.”

Ponente cleared her throat. “That sounds fine. I was just thinking of doing that, but if you’re fine with going-”

“I am.” Twilight swept her wings down and launched herself into the sky before anypony else could say otherwise. Just for a little while, she wanted to be able to fly without somepony else holding her back. Princesshood was great and all, but she relished the moments where it wasn’t restricting her.

Twilight climbed and climbed, and soon had the world spread out like a quilt beneath her. She took a look at the jungle and gulped. It just kept going, like the sea behind her. Green hills sprawled on and on and on, broken up by the occasional clearing or dark line that may have been a river. There was no clear path that she could see. She could dimly make out some mountains in the distance, but it was hard to tell how far away they were. And it was entirely possible that the jungle kept going up them; they were too far away to make out any color.

Okay. This was… unfortunate, but not insurmountable. She — or another pegasus, for that matter — could fly on, try to find the edge of the jungle. In all directions. She could wait a day or two. But she’d been hoping for something a bit less, not thi-

Below her, she heard a distant yell. “Hey! Look alive, we’ve got company!”

Twilight’s heart stopped. If the group below was being attacked, this whole trip could turn sour real fast. She needed to help them. She folded her wings and plunged downward.

TWO MONTHS AGO

One of the benefits of princesshood: you could just walk into Canterlot at any time, ask nicely, and be granted an audience with Celestia or Luna (which one depended on the time of day) within the hour at the very most, although ten minutes was more likely. Here, it wasn’t even that much; Twilight hadn’t been waiting two minutes before she was ushered into the throne room.

“You wanted to see me, Twilight?” Celestia asked, finishing her signature on a scroll with a flourish.

“Yes.” Twilight cleared her throat. “Princess Celestia, I’ve been thinking. We don’t have a lot of zebras in Equestria, do we?”

“I’m afraid not. We don’t keep track of the numbers, but I doubt there are more than two dozen, and there are probably less than that.”

“Right. Well, I was thinking. Maybe we should head over to Gondwana ourselves and try to make friends with the zebras. After all, just because we don’t see them doesn’t mean they don’t want to see us. And if they actually don’t?” Twilight shrugged. “We haven’t lost much. We might as well try.”

“That sounds like an excellent idea!” Celestia said, smiling. “To be honest, the lack of communication is partially my fault. The Celestial Sea is quite wide-”

“About five thousand miles,” piped up Twilight. “I’ve done my research.”

Celestia laughed softly. “Of course you have. And in the past, well, traveling that distance simply wasn’t practical. It could take months to get there, just in one direction, with no chances to stop and resupply or make repairs along the way. So we never did anything about it. But now, with better technology and faster ships…” Celestia coughed sheepishly. “One of the subtler downsides of immortality is that when you get stuck in your ways, it’s nigh-impossible to get back out. I kept saying I’d do it next year, and then I’d do it next year, and…”

She waved a hoof in a vague direction. “You can imagine what that led to. This is a small part of why I made you and Cadance princesses: you can provide a new perspective where Luna and I would ignore the possibilities simply because that’s not the way we’ve done things. Your trip would take some time, possibly months, but if you’re willing to do it, I’d be happy to support you.”

“Great!” said Twilight happily. “I’ve started compiling a list of things we might need…” She whipped out a scroll that unrolled the length of the throne room. “Food, of course,” said Twilight as she began reading from it, “but what kinds of food? We’ll want to show the zebras Equestrian food, but what food best represents Equestria? I was thinking-”

A flick of magic from Celestia rolled the scroll back up. “There’ll be plenty of time for that in the upcoming months,” she said. “For now, we need to make sure you can actually get to Gondwana. And I believe I know just the ship…”

Below Twilight, one of the most intense staring contests in history was taking place.

A cluster of unusually dark zebras had come out of the jungle, following the river. About nine or ten strong, they all looked armed with various weapons — Twilight saw spears, slings, morning stars, and other things she didn’t recognize strapped to both front and back legs — but although they all looked ready to go for their weapons, none of them was pointing anything at Twilight’s group. Fortunately, the Equestrians weren’t brandishing their pikes or knives or crossbows, either. But they still looked ready to whip them out. Her guards were the only ones who had weapons that didn’t look ready to start stabbing things, but they were still obviously on edge.

So both groups were standing about thirty feet apart, staring intently at each other, and felt ready to break out their weapons and attack. No one moved much; they all looked stiff as boards. Occasionally someone would cough or something, but nobody seemed willing to try and break the tension and risk it snapping back at them. They just waited and waited. From the looks of things, both sides were willing to wait for a while.

Twilight gulped. She was already at the first hurdle. The zebras below probably didn’t speak Equestrian, and while they didn’t look hostile, they didn’t look friendly either. A single wrong step could lead to a terrible first impression, which would only make things that much more difficult down the line. But if anyone was going to risk it, it had to be her. She was the leader of this diplomatic mission, after all. She dove.

Everyone twitched when Twilight landed off to the side and turned to look at her. A zebra that looked to be the leader, a big burly mare with a spear over her back, flexed her legs slightly, but made no move to attack. Some of the equines at the back of either group started to relax a little. So far, so good.

Twilight swallowed and walked in between the two groups. “Is there any way you can get your ponies to look less… tense?” she asked Ponente. “I don’t think they’re that aggressive, or they’d have attacked already.” I hope.

Ponente leaned to one side, looking around Twilight at the zebras. After a second, she said, “I really hope you’re right about this, Twilight.” To the crew, she barked, “Stop reaching for your weapons! We don’t want this to get bloody.”

The crew murmured, but after a moment, they tried to relax. It half-worked; they still looked tense, but not like they were going to start attacking the zebras.

Behind Twilight, one of the zebras yelled something. Twilight whirled around, terrified she’d made a mistake, but they were doing the same thing as Ponente’s crew: not reaching for their weapons and trying to relax. Twilight breathed a sigh of relief.

Then she took a deep breath to psych herself up and took a few steps toward the lead zebra. This close, Twilight could see that her unusually dark color wasn’t natural; she, and probably the rest of the zebras, were wearing some kind of thin, full-body netting that made them look darker. Even as Twilight approached, the zebra pulled at something on her neck and the netting around her head came away like a hood. Beneath the netting, her coloring was much more similar to Zecora’s.

Still, she looked intimidating, even if she wasn’t going to stab anyone anytime soon. Twilight had gotten used to being the largest pony in the room when there weren’t any other princesses about, but the zebra looked to be just a tad smaller than Luna. At least her expression was one of slight apprehension rather than anger or hatred.

Twilight cleared her throat as the zebras watched her. Normally, she felt fine when eyes were on her, but it was a little bit different when she wasn’t sure they spoke the same language. “Excuse me,” she said. She spoke slowly and clearly, trying to enunciate every syllable, and picked her words to be simpler than normal. Hopefully, if they spoke Equestrian, they wouldn’t find her too hard to understand. “Do any of you speak Equestrian?”

The zebra paused, cocked her head. “Not very good,” she said after a few seconds. “Speak slow, simple, please.” Her speech was stilted and halting. No, her Equestrian wasn’t very good. But it was still Equestrian, and, more importantly, perfectly understandable Equestrian.

Yesssssss. They were getting somewhere.

ONE MONTH AGO

This is all going rather well, Twilight thought as she walked towards Sweet Apple Acres. Only a few days after talking with Celestia, they’d nailed down the ship perfectly: the Log Flume, a fancy-dancy new type of ship that actually had arcane engines built into its hull. If the wind was against them, they’d just drop all sails and turn on the motor. It required a not-insignificant amount of magic to function, which normally limited its range, but with an alicorn on board, that wouldn’t be a problem. It was a decent size, too, with plenty of room for whatever she wanted to take along.

Once that had been ironed out, it was mostly a matter of deciding what she wanted to take along. As well as who. After a month of deliberation, Twilight had all the goods she wanted to bring, she had a small contingent of bodyguards (in spite of her protests; at least she’d managed to haggle it down to two pegasi), she had pretty much everything she needed. But she still had to pick at least two more people: an aide (“Just to make it look more official,” Celestia had said. “You don’t need one, but it looks professional.”) and a translator.

There was really only one choice for the translator: Zecora, the only person Twilight knew who spoke Zebran. Even further investigations into Gondwana research hadn’t turned up much on the Zebran language. Stupid isolationism. Twilight had just visited her in the Everfree, willing to beg and plead with her to come along if that was needed. But, no, Zecora had agreed to come almost immediately. That’d been easy.

What was going to be less easy was Twilight’s aide. Spike was coming, obviously, but she felt that she also needed a more equine aide, just in case dragons made zebras nervous for some reason. That had taken some thinking, but eventually, Twilight realized there was really only one choice that made any lick of sense.

Applejack was in the orchard, checking the apple trees for any damage. She waved when she saw Twilight approaching. “Howdy, Twilight!” she called.

“Hey, AJ.”

Applejack placed her ear against a trunk. She rapped it hard with a hoof, listened for something, then nodded. “What brings you ‘round here?”

Twilight took a quick breath to psych herself up. Applejack wasn’t the kind who’d take to the idea of leaving her home for months all that well. “You know how I’ve been planning to go to Gondwana as an ambassador?”

“Sure do,” Applejack said as she squinted at a section of bark. “It’s all you been talkin’ ‘bout for the past month.”

“Well, I was just wondering… if you would be willing… to travel with me as an aide.” Twilight attempted to grin. It didn’t come out so great.

Applejack blinked and sloooowly turned to face Twilight. She cocked her head and blinked again. “Pardon?”

“Travel with me. To Gondwana. As an assistant. Please?”

Applejack raised an eyebrow. “You want me to come with y’all across the ocean to Gondwatsit?” she said skeptically. She sighed and rubbed her forehead. “Twilight, even before we get there, I’m the landlubberiest landlubber you’ll ever lay eyes on. I’ll be throwin’ up every minute of every day the whole way there. And you know I ain’t the greatest with bein’ all fancy. It’ll only take half an hour for me to mess up some social thing, and then we’ll all get kicked outta there faster’n you can say ‘Sweet Sufferin’ Sassafrass’.”

Well, at least it wasn’t the Oh, sweet Celestia, no no no no NO, a thousand times over that Twilight had been expecting. She forged on. “AJ, even if you’re not good with social niceties, you’ve got a way with ponies,” Twilight responded. “You’re solid, dependable, reliable… You’re the Element of Honesty. You’re trustworthy, and everyone can see that. You just don’t feel like the kind of pony who’d lie.”

“You’re sayin’ I’m hard to mistrust?”

“Exactly. Just because you’re not good with the specifics doesn’t mean you’re useless in this sort of thing. When it comes to ponies in general, you’re one of the best people I know. Definitely better at it than me. And besides, can you imagine me bringing, say, Pinkie Pie?”

“Considerin’ how she dealt with the yaks, that ain’t necessarily the worst of ideas. But I see your point.” Applejack chewed her lip for a little. “When do you need an answer?”

“A month, give or take, but I’d prefer it earlier.”

“Tell you what. I’ll think about it. I ain’t sayin’ yes or no just yet, so don’t plan on one or the other. But I’ll try to get back to you by the end of the week. It ain’t just me I’m worried about; I’ll be leavin’ Sweet Apple Acres for, what? Two months? Three? And I’ll have to see if Big Mac, Apple Bloom, and Granny Smith will all be okay with it.”

“Probably three months,” said Twilight. “I’m rounding up to be safe. I hope you’ll come with me, Applejack. It’ll be an adventure you’ll never forget. And even if you don’t, thank you for thinking it over.”

“Mmhmm.” And Applejack went right back to inspecting the trees as if nothing had happened. But she was frowning a bit more and seemed a little slower.

Halfway through the week, Applejack caught up with Twilight and said, yeah, she’d do it. “But don’t be surprised if I cause some major cross-cultural kerfuffles!”

But Twilight wasn’t worried about that. She felt confident that this was going to turn out just fine, and Applejack had nothing to worry about.

Twilight took a few deep breaths. Hopefully, the zebras spoke enough Equestrian for this to be a semi-coherent conversation. She picked her words carefully, trying to make them ones that would come up a lot in conversation. “I am Princess Twilight Sparkle,” she said slowly, “and I am here as an ambassador from Equestria.”

The zebra cocked her head. “Am-ba-ssa-dor?” she said with a frown.

Twilight mentally gulped. Hitting a roadblock already? Joy. Of course, Zecora was on the boat if worst came to worst, but Twilight wanted to rely on others as little as possible. It was good practice in case she ever got separated from Zecora. “Uh, diplomat?” she suggested. The problem with the word “ambassador” was that its very foundation was built on uncommon concepts, making circumlocution tricky, to say the least. She could probably describe it if she had to, but it would be a very, very wordy description.

The zebra paused, then nodded. “Diplomat. I know that.” She looked out over the ocean, then turned back to Twilight and pointed towards the horizon. “Equestria. Country very far away, that direction?”

“Yes!” said Twilight, nodding excitedly. “Very, very far.” Roadblock broken. And the zebra was already looking to be intelligent enough to try to help Twilight fill the gaps.

“Yes,” the zebra said. “Ocean is very wide. You want to meet our king?”

“Yes,” Twilight said. Most definitely intelligent. Just not good at Equestrian. Languages were a pain; Twilight had tried learning some Zebran from Zecora in the past month, and was immediately overwhelmed by it all. Just for starters, noun classes that told what kind of noun it was. There were sixteen of them, and they all had different prefixes based on their noun, and you changed the prefix to change the plurality instead of adding a postfix like in Equestrian, and sometimes two different classes shared the same prefix for singular but a different one for plural or vice versa, and for some classes the singular and plural had the exact same prefix, and-

Anyway, the point was that just because the zebra wasn’t good with Equestrian didn’t mean she wasn’t smart. This conversation might go better than Twilight had expected. “We were looking to g- We want to go inland.” She gestured at the river. “We were thinking of either following the river, or tr-”

“HAPANA!” bellowed the zebra, making Twilight jump. “No! No no NO! Do not take river! River very bad, very dangerous!” Her eyes had gone wide and she was leaning forward slightly.

Twilight backed up, rustling her wings nervously, and very much missed being the tallest pony in the room 95% of the time. “I know how t-”

“Do. Not. Take. River,” the zebra said, each word landing like a hammer blow. “Very, very dangerous.”

“Okaaaaay,” Twilight said. “We won’t take the river. But th-”

The zebra held up a hoof and said something to the group behind her. After some discussion and drawing things in the ground, someone called back. The zebra turned back to Twilight and pointed south. “Port that way. Half-day’s trot. I think fifty miles? Has place for ship, roads, better Equestrian speakers. It will take your ship, easy. Go that way. Big river mouth, can't miss it.”

Okay, that was good. Fifty miles sounded about right for a half-day’s trot. Good thing they weren’t trotting, then. “Thank you. We sha- We will go to the port.” She bowed slightly — it always paid to be polite.

After some hesitation, the zebra returned the bow and started talking to her group. As the other zebras broke up, the first one said to Twilight, “We are done here. Good luck.” She pulled the netting hood back over her head.

“Again, thank you,” said Twilight. She started walking back to her own group, her steps light. Considering that was her first time, that had gone amazing. Ending a standoff, a decent conversation in spite of the language barrier, and directions to an actual port. Simply put, the only way it could’ve gone better would be if one of them had actually been the zebras’ king.

The moment Twilight was near the Equestrian group, Stormwalker and Cumulus stepped forward and placed themselves between her and the zebras. But even that couldn’t dampen her spirits. “You look lively,” observed Ponente.

“Indeed,” Twilight said brightly. “The jungle, unfortunately, keeps going as far as I could see, and those zebras — they spoke some Equestrian — said we shouldn’t take the river because it’s too dangerous. But there’s a port fifty miles south of here.” She frowned. “Well, actually, they said a half-day’s trot and guessed it was fifty miles, but fifty miles sounds about right.”

“Really,” said Ponente. A smile was creeping onto her face. “An honest-to-Celestia port… Hopefully it’ll be able to take my baby.”

“Wait, wait.” Applejack pushed through the crowd to Twilight. “Did I hear that right? That we’ll be goin’ to a port?” She glanced at the ship, groaned, and rubbed her head. “Rickin’ rackin’ frickin’ frackin’...” she mumbled.

Ponente chuckled and slapped her lightly on the back. “Oh, don’t worry about it. It’ll only be three hours, max.”

“Three hours too long,” Applejack muttered as she stalked back to the lifeboat. “Of all the…” And she dissolved into angry mumbles.

“She always like that?” Ponente asked Twilight.

“No. I guess she really doesn’t like ships.”

Ponente shrugged. “Well, if all goes well, she won’t have to be on one much longer.” She began wading out to the lifeboat.

Twilight was about to take off when she realized something: she hadn’t seen anything resembling a port while she’d been aloft, not in either direction. Just jungle, shore, and ocean. She didn’t think that the zebras would lie… but if they did… “Hey! Ponente!”

Knee-deep in the water, Ponente turned back to her. “Hmm?”

“You don’t suppose the zebra was lying, was she? I didn’t see any ports while I was up there.”

Ponente shrugged. “Don’t see why she would. Do you know how far up you were?”

“No. I think maybe three hundred feet? Four hundred?”

“Then if the port really is fifty miles away, that shouldn’t be a problem. At that height, the horizon’s only like…” She frowned and pawed below the water for a few seconds. “…twenty-five miles away, if I remember my tables correctly, so you wouldn’t be able to see it. Too far away.”

That was a relief. “Alright then,” said Twilight. “See you on the ship.”

“You, too,” Ponente said as she hopped into the lifeboat.

ONE AND A HALF WEEKS AGO

Baltimare was booming, and the docks where Twilight and her ambassadorial group were about to cast off were all hustle and bustle. A cluster of ponies was standing at the Log Flume, saying their last goodbyes. Not many of Twilight’s friends had managed to come to the final sending-off, but a few had.

“…and remember,” Twilight said to Starlight, “I’ve left you a list of friendship lessons to study. It goes on for way longer than I think you need, just in case. It’s in the library.”

“I know,” Starlight said. “It’s hard not to notice a scroll a foot thick.”

“Hey! It pays to be prepared.”

“I know. But, Twilight, be safe, okay? If you don’t come back, I…” Starlight swallowed. “I don’t know what I’ll do.”

“I’ll be fine, don’t worry about it,” said Twilight. “I’ve got plenty of protection. And even if I don’t come back, I’m sure you’ll find something. You’ve made enough friends in Ponyville, and if worst comes to worst, you could go to Princess Celestia.”

“And that would be simply divine!” gushed Rarity. “You’re not only studying under the tutelage of Princess Celestia herself, you’re also in the middle of Canterlot, where-”

“-I’ll be depressed,” Starlight said, “because my first teacher probably got killed on the other side of the world.”

“Oh. Um. Right,” said Rarity, flicking her ears. “Still, though…” Her eyes turned misty and she began smiling. “I’d love to see what kinds of fashion have evolved over there, completely independent of Equestria. And they’re not even on ponies! They’re on zebras! I can only imagine what sorts of colors they have in Gondwana.”

Twilight and Starlight exchanged Significant Glances. Twilight cleared her throat. “Rarity, you do remember that zebras have no coloration besides black and white stripes, right? Like Zecora?”

Rarity froze. One of her eyes twitched. “Black… and white… stripes?” she whispered. “Just… just those?”

Twilight nodded. “All of them.”

Rarity shuddered and fainted.

“That’s what I thought,” said Twilight. She turned to where Applejack was saying goodbye to her family (minus Granny Smith, who wasn’t feeling up for the trip to Baltimare). “Applejack! You ready?”

Applejack was not ready. Apple Bloom had latched herself to Applejack’s neck and refused to let go. “I wanna go with you!” she whined. “I wanna see Gondwana, I wa-”

Applejack attempted to work a hoof between her neck and Apple Bloom’s body, to no avail. “Oh, come on, dumplin’, it’ll be mighty dangerous.”

“Eeyup,” said Big Mac. He grabbed Apple Bloom’s tail between his teeth and started pulling.

“Why do you think I wanna come with you?” Apple Bloom kept a tight grip on Applejack’s neck.

“‘Sides,” said Applejack, digging her hooves into the dock, “you wanna just leave your friends behind for a month?”

“They wanna come, too!” Apple Bloom’s legs slowly began slipping. “Zebras don’t have cutie marks, and we wanna see how they live like that!”

Applejack shot Twilight a brief, mortified look. “Listen, li’l filly, I’ll tell you all ‘bout it when I get back.” She grunted and tried to take a step back. Apple Bloom’s grip finally gave way and, upside down, she pendulumed back and forth in Big Mac’s grip. Applejack crouched down to Apple Bloom’s eye level. “But it’s just too dangerous for you to come, so y’all gotta stay here.”

Apple Bloom pouted, but muttered, “‘Kay.”

When Big Mac had set her down rightside up, Applejack tousled Apple Bloom’s hair. “Maybe someday you’ll be able to come over. Just not now.”

“‘Kay,” Apple Bloom muttered. She looked up and hugged Applejack. “Hope y’all have a good time. Even if it ain’t with me.”

Applejack hugged back. “I’ll miss you, sugarcube. You stay safe, now. And Big Mac?”

“Eeyup?”

“You’ll keep an eye on her, won’t you?”

“Eeyup.”

Apple Bloom began protesting. “I can take ca-”

She was cut off by the booming of the Flume’s bell. When it died away, Ponente’s voice rang out. “We’re leaving in ten!” she bellowed. “All ashore that’s going ashore!”

“Come on, AJ,” said Twilight, “we’d better…” She twitched and began looking around. “Spike! Where’s Spike?”

“Here!” Spike yelled from the gangplank. He held up a scroll. “Double-checked everything on your list, Twilight. We’re all good.”

“Did you-”

“Yes, I triple-checked my double checks. And Zecora’s on board, too. We’re all good.”

“Good.” Twilight turned to the ponies seeing her and Applejack off. “Thanks for coming, everypony. It means a lot t-”

Ponente yelled from the ship. “Princess! If your royal patootie’s not up here in eight minutes, we’re leaving without you! And then turning right back around because you’re the only reason we’re traveling in the first place and leaving without you would be stupid!”

“C’mon, Twilight,” said Applejack, nudging her in the ribs. “Let’s get goin’.”

“Right.” Twilight and Applejack headed up the gangplank. At the top, Twilight turned back and waved to the group below. “Bye, guys and girls! Thanks for seeing me off!”

“Farewell, Twilight! Farewell, Applejack!”

“See ya, Apple Bloom! See ya, Big Mac!”

“Bye!”

“Bye!”

“Bye!”

This went on for a while, and the ship was off before they knew it.

The rocking of the Flume hadn’t been much of a problem for Twilight for the most part, but she didn’t get as much of a deep sleep as she preferred. She slept alright, but it took longer for her to get to sleep and she awoke earlier than she liked.

Not Spike. On the Flume, he slept more deeply than a narcoleptic log. By the time Twilight had gotten back to the ship, he was still sleeping, even though he was pretty much the only person on the ship who was still in bed (or hammock, as the case may be).

It was time to put an end to that. Twilight poked him. “Spike.”

He mumbled something and rolled over.

Poke poke. “Spiiiiiike…” Poke.

“Grrfn.”

Jab. “Spike!”

Spike yelped and rolled out of the hammock. “I’m sorry, Grandpa!” he yelled. “I won’t…” Full wakefulness came to him. “Oh. Morning, Twilight.”

Twilight sighed and rubbed her forehead. “Spike, you need to try to get up earlier.”

“It’s not my fault!” protested Spike as he put his pillow back in the hammock. “These hammocks are just amazing.”

“Mmhmm. Listen, we’ll be arriving in a port in a few hours, so we’ll need to be prepared to disembark. Get ready.”

“So we’ve finally reached Gondwana?”

Twilight nodded. “And took a party to shore, met some zebras, talked with them, came back. Really, you need to get up earlier.”

“Unnf,” groaned Spike. “But we have hours. What’s wrong with getting some more sleep in if we have hours?”

“For starters, sleeping in is a bad habit to get into,” Twilight said. “Second of all, as some of the first official pony delegates in Celestia knows how long, we need to make a good impression. We’ll be representing all of Equestria, after all.”

And then Twilight realized what she’d just said.

In Equestria, she was allowed a certain amount of leeway as a princess. If she flubbed a word during a speech, nopony would say anything (as long as it was innocuous). If she showed up to this or that summit with bedhead, chances were that next week fashion magazines would be giving tips on how to give your mane just the right amount of unruly curliness. Whatever small mistakes she made, as long as she didn’t make a big deal out of them, no one else would, either.

Not so here. Here, princesshood meant nothing (probably). Almost nobody had actually seen a pony, much less had diplomatic talks with one. Even if she was just a tourist, her not-zebra-ness would mean that everyone was watching her. Everything she did would be judged. Everything she did would reflect on Equestria.

So, yeah. No pressure or anything.

Twilight felt a little weak at the knees. “Actually, Spike,” she said quietly, “why don’t you just… take a few extra minutes of sleep.” She gestured vaguely in something resembling the direction of his hammock. “I need to talk to Zecora about… stuff.”

“Sheesh, make up your mind, why don’t you?”