The Baltimare look-out put down his spyglass as he spotted a vessel on the horizon which had set course towards the city.

“The Venturer’s here! The Venturer’s here!” the look-out shouted out to the ponies who walked down the docks.

Almost all ponies present turned their head towards the sea where the outline of the ship was visible, coming closer and closer. Whispers dominated the docks as ponies present wondered so see the vessel approach. Not many ships would dock at Baltimare these days, and the Venturer had been expected to arrive 3 days earlier, many ponies already believing the ship to be lost to the sea, or that a mutiny had occurred.

But here the ship was, approaching the city. Only a few minutes later, thanks to ponies spreading the news, the ramparts were covered with spectators. Their eyes were fixed on the somewhat mysterious vessel as it drew closer and closer, occasional whispers in the crowd disrupting the ghastly silence of the crowd.

But the closer the ship got, the more ponies realised that something was wrong. The ship came in too slow. Yet, as reported by the look-out to them, the ship itself seemed to be intact. If there was a problem with the ship, it would have to be the crew itself.

“It’s Edmond!” the look-out reported to the crowd, “He’s alive!”

Almost on command, a wealthy mare trotted down the rampart, pushing aside many of those in her way. When she finally stood at the front of the crowd, now having a clear sight on the ship that was now only a couple meters off the docks. Without saying a word, she jumped into a small skiff that floated in front of her. A small splash of water soaked many spectators in the first row, though the wealthy mare was quick to escape their angry faces and words, pulling the small skiff of hers out of port, towards the big vessel.

It took no more than half a minute for her to pull alongside the Venturer, at which she looked up the ship, shouting: “Edmond!” as loud as she could.

And truly, only a second later the first mate of the ship, Edmond Dash, poked his head over the Port side of the ship, spotting the familiar face of the mare down in the small skiff. “Oh, it’s you, Mrs. Firrel,” Edmond said down to his employer, his head poked over the railing and his voice carrying much sorrow and exhaustion.

“What is the matter, Edmond? Why the sad face?” Mrs. Firrel asked, the golden buttons of her deep blue coat shining in the bright sun.

“A great tragedy, Mrs. Firrel, has struck us. Our brave Captain Fleclere has left us...” Dash said regretfully.

“And the cargo?” his employer asked.

“It’s all safe, Mrs. Firrel, and I think you will be most satisfied.” Edmond replied honestly. “Our poor Captain, however...”

“What happened to him? What happened to the worthy captain of yours?” Mrs. Firrel asked Edmond in a monotone voice.

“He died, Ma’am...”

“Fell into the sea?” the wealthy mare replied jokingly, a small giggle escaping her mouth.

“No, Ma’am, he died of fever as we were setting course for Baltimare.” Edmond held a hoof over his chest, the fate of his captain truly getting to him.

“And how did this misfortune occur?” Mrs. Firrel demanded to know.

“In a greatly unexpected manner, Ma’am. The Captain left Fillydelphia after a long talk with the harbour-master, seemingly unable to keep focus on his duties. After only 20 hours had passed, he was attacked by a horrible fever, and died two days later. We performed the usual burial, and he is now at rest. Still, all his family will receive of him is his sword and cross of honour...” Edmond sighed, “To fight a war against the griffons for ten years and then be struck down not by a blade or cannon, but a fever...”

“We are all mortal, after all, Edmond, and the old must eventually make way for the young. Even if it pains us.” Mrs. Firrel told the first mate. “Besides, without such incidents there would be no reason for promotion. And since you assure me that the cargo-”

“It’s all safe and well, Mrs. Firrel, take my word for it. I am an honest pony, this you know.” Edmond reassured his employer.

“Yes, yes, Edmond. That I know, as you have shown me many times in the past.”

“Now, if you wish to come aboard, Mrs. Firrel, and see for yourself, M. Danglarjack will fill you in with everything you wish to know. I, however, must go and look after the anchoring.”

“Very well, Edmond,” replied Mrs. Firrel, promptly spreading her wings and lifting herself into the air. After just a few seconds she landed on board the Venturer, next to Edmond.

“Patience now, Ma’am. Danglarjack will be with you shortly, but I must hurry and look after my duties.”

“As is right, Edmond. Go now; I shall wait,” Mrs. Firrel said to him. After a quick salute, Edmond Dash sprinted over off to a different part of the ship.

Mrs. Firrel used this spare time to look around the vessel, noticing how it really was unharmed and fully intact. Impressive, the merchant pony thought to herself, as she failed to spot any damage done to the now captain-less vessel.

Suddenly, right behind the mare, the loud sound of somepony smashing a door echoed across the ship. Turning around, she was not surprised to see who stepped out of the cabin.

“Danglarjack.” Mrs. Firrel addressed him as he approached her, his eyes cold and unforgiving.

“Well, well, Mrs. Firrel,” Danglarjack said to his employer in a casual manner, “I assume you’ve heard of our tragedy?”

“So I have: Poor Captain Fleclere, he was an honest and brave pony...” she replied, a hoof raised to her chest, her eyes closed.

“Aye, and of long tradition he was. Serving not only honourable service under the crown against the griffons but being charged with the interests of a house so important as that of Firrel & Son,” Danglarjack commented with a dark smirk.

Mrs. Firrel, however, looked over to starboard side, where Edmond was overlooking the anchoring of the ship. Danglarjack, slight anger in his face, followed her look, staring at his not-so-secret rival.

“Though it seems to be that a sailor needs not to be as old as you say in order to understand his business, Danglarjack. Our friend Edmond Dash over here, for example, seems to understand it thoroughly, not in need of instructions from anyone,” Mrs. Firrel said, her speech sounding almost like a praise to Danglarjack.

“Aye, Aye, he is young, and like all of the youth he is inevitably self-confident. Over-confident. Only few moments after the captain had taken his last breath, he went and assumed direct command of the ship without consulting anyone. Not only that, but he caused us to lose two days by laying anchor near Griffonstone, instead of making for Baltimare directly after leaving Fillydelphia,” the mate reported to his employer, who scratched her head at hearing this.

“Taking command of the vessel was his duty as captain’s mate; docking near Griffonstone, however, was not. Why did he insist to dock near that devilish place?” Firrel asked curiously.

“He told us nothing more than that he had business with the Count of Griffonstone. When he came back, he carried with him a letter of some sort,” Danglarjack explained.

“I see.” Mrs. Firrel replied monotonically. “Edmond!” She shouted over to the pony at the other end of the ship, who was still overlooking the current anchoring. “Come over here, please.”

“In a moment, Ma’am,” Edmond replied, wishing to make sure the anchoring went well.

Danglarjack grumbled at hearing Edmond’s voice. “You see? He fancies himself Captain already!” Danglarjack said to Mrs. Firrel, his voice making it sound more like a childish rant than a complaint.

“And so, in fact, he is,” Mrs. Firrel said calmly, her eyes still turned towards Edmond on the other side of the ship, ignoring Danglar’s rant.

“Pardon me, Ma’am?”

“You heard correctly, Danglarjack. He may be young, true, but he is nontheless a thorough sailor of full experience.” Mrs. Firrel’s words burned themselves into Danglarjack’s mind.

“But he lacks the signature of you and your husband, Ma’am!” Danglarjack attempted to intervene.

“And why would he not receive it?” the mare countered, turning her now judging eyes onto Danglarjack.

Danglarjack fell quiet, and so Mrs. Firrel turned her attention back to Edmond, who now came trotting over to them.

“Pardon me, Ma’am. The vessel is now safely anchored at port. You called for me?” Edmond asked, nicely as always. Although he took no notice of it, Danglarjack eyed him, stared into his eyes. Danglarjack’s cold eyes were no more just cold, but lusting for revenge.

“Yes, I wish to inquire why you stopped near the City of Griffonstone. Do you not know it is dangerous for ponies to enter Griffon territory?” Mrs. Firrel asked the soon-to-be-captain.

“I do, and my pardon for doing so anyway, but I did as was the last wish of Captain Fleclere, as he wanted me to bring the Count of Griffonstone an important message,” Edmond reported honestly.

“So you saw him?” Firrels asked curiously.

“Who?”

“The Count,” the mare clarified.

“Yes, of course,” Edmond replied.

Suddenly, Mrs. Firrels put a hoof on Edmond’s back and lead him into a more quiet corner of the ship, where they could not be heard. “How is the Count?” She asked.

“He is doing fine, as far as I can judge. Why do you inquire to know, however? You two don’t know each other, no?” Edmond asked, both confused and curiously.

“Not directly, no,” Mrs. Firrels replied with a gentle, light-hearted chuckle, “but he and my father do know each other! They were great friends, and my father managed to grow our house immensely by securing unique, profitable trade deals with the Count. Their friendship was brought to an end with the outbreak of the war, however. Oh, what a great misfortune...”

“Indeed. If I had known I would have sent your father’s kind regards to the Count,” Edmond said.

Mrs. Firrel broke out in a short, joyful laughter, tapping Edmond on the back. “Yes, yes, I know you would have, Edmond. Perhaps another day,” she said, keeping in her laughter. “Though you should refrain from letting other ponies know of your visit to the Count. You may get into a fair bit of trouble.”

“Trouble? What could possibly bring me into trouble, Ma’am?” Edmond asked, “For I simply did as was the Captain’s last wish, and I did not have an relation or business with the Count myself. I was simply a messenger, nothing more,” Edmond stated.

“True, Edmond, true,” the orange coated mare to his side said, looking out into the ocean, “But others might not share my trust in you,” she said, without saying any names.

“I see...” Edmond said. “While I would love to continue this conversation, I must still take care of several things of importance before work is done.”

“Quite right, Edmond, quite right,” Mrs. Firrels agreed, the sailor once again saluting her before dashing off.

“So...” Danglarjack’s dark voice rang in Firrel’s ears as he approached her from the rear, “He has given you a satisfactory reason for his change of course, I presume?”

Mrs. Firrels briefly turned her head to the right where Danglarjack now stood before once again looking out to the sea. “Yes, my dear Danglarjack, most satisfactory, indeed,” she told him.

“While calming to hear, it’s still shocking and unpleasant to me that a comrade like him has not done his duty,” Danglarjack said.

“Edmond has done his duty, very much so. It was Captain Fleclerc who gave Edmond the order for the delay; it was his last wish before death struck him,” Mrs. Firrels said in defence of Edmond.

“And surely the Captain had reason to demand such a delay?” Danglarjack asked her.

“Very much so, but that is not of importance now. The rest of the crew is of good-health and the cargo is unharmed,” Mrs. Firrels said confidently.

Danglarjack eyed her with narrow, furious eyes, only to reply with a mere “Aye, Aye.”

The two ponies both remained in place, silently gazing out into the open sea.

Only two minutes later, the eager sailor returned to them. “Edmond, you are free already?” Mrs. Firrels asked the smiling pony, turning towards him and away from Danglarjack, who continued to grumble in the background, listening to their conversation.

“Yes, Ma’am,” Edmond reported.

“You are certainly quick to take care of your duties,” Firrels praised him.

“Thank you very much, Mrs. Firrels! Though I wish not your compliments for swiftly completing easy tasks.”

“You might call them that, Edmond.” The orange-coated Pegasus chuckled again, Edmond joining in this time.

“So, was that all you had to do?” she asked Edmond as their laughing subsided.

“Yes, Ma’am, everything is alright now,” he reported to her.

“Then I might invite you to dine with me today?” Mrs. Firrels asked him. Danglarjack’s ears in the background twitched at hearing such a thing.

“I...I must really ask you to excuse me, Mrs. Firrels, but I simply cannot accept your offer. My first visit here in Baltimare is reserved for my father, though I certainly am honoured by your offer,” Edmond said disappointingly.

“Right, Dash, quite right!” Mrs. Firrels said to him, at which Edmond rediscovered his usual gentle smile. “I always knew you were a good son. Your father must be proud of one like you.”

“Speaking of my father, have you heard of him? Is he well?” Edmond asked.

“Hm, why I have not heard much, dear Edmond, I am quite sure he is fine,” Mrs. Firrels replied to him, “I have not, however, seen him out in town at all during your absence.”

Edmond kept in a joyful giggle at hearing this. “Yes, yes, that’s him. He is not one to show himself in public.”

“Well, after your first visit has been paid, me and my husband shall be awaiting you,” Mrs. Firrels said, returning to her previous offer.

Edmond awkwardly scratched the back of his head. “I must again ask for you to excuse me, Mrs. Firrels, for after this first visit to my father I have yet another important visit to pay to a special pony in my life,” Edmond told her anxiously.

“Ah, yes. I had completely forgotten that there is another pony other than your father who eagerly awaits your return...” Mrs. Firrels said, putting a hoof on Edmond’s back, “The dear Shycedes.”

Edmond blushed, remaining quiet. Danglarjack in the background seemed as if he were close to throwing up from hearing all this.

“I am not surprised, dear Edmond, for she has paid me several visits herself during your journey, inquiring whether there were any news about the Venturer. She became quite worried when you didn’t arrive in port at the planned date, three days ago.”

“Yes, I figured as much...” Edmond replied, knowing he let Shycedes worry about his well-being. “I shall return to her as soon as my father dismisses me.”

“Excellent. You have quite a handsome wife, Edmond,” Mrs. Firrels told him honestly.

“Thank you very much, Ma’am, but she is not my wife just yet. Which reminds me that I must ask you to allow me to be absent for some days.”

“To get married?” Mrs. Firrels asked him.

“Yes, first, but also to go to Canterlot,” Edmond told her.

“Very well, Edmond. Take whatever time you need,” Firrels said to him. “It will surely take about a week or two to unload the cargo, and we cannot sail for a two weeks after that. Be back again in no less than 4 weeks, Edmond, for the Venturer cannot sail without its Captain,” she revealed.

While Edmond froze at hearing this, Danglarjack, brewing with anger, turned tail and left the scene, having heard enough nonsense for a day.

“Cannot sail without its Captain!?” Edmond asked in disbelief.

“Quite right, Edmond,” Mrs. Firrels reassured him.

“Mrs. Firrels, I pray for you to consider the choice you are making. Surely there is a better choice for this than me. I am but a simple sailor,” Edmond told her.

“I tell you, my dear Edmond, that this choice is an easy one, for you have taken care of your duties with great responsibility, efficiency and experience. I am glad to have you aboard, Edmond, and glad to assign you as Captain of this vessel.”

A few tears of joy began rolling down Edmond’s face at hearing all this. “Thank you, Ma’am, thank you! You are truly making real one of my most secret wishes. You have my eternal gratitude.” Edmond thanked his employer, shaking her hoof.

“Now, now, Edmond,” Mrs. Firrels said to the newly promoted Captain, “Do not waste any more time, for you have two special ponies eagerly awaiting you.”

Edmond wiped off his tears of joy, a slight sob escaping him. “So...I have your leave?” he asked quietly.

“Go, I say. You have done good work here,” Mrs. Firrels assured Edmond.

“Very well then. Farewell for now, Mrs. Firrels, and once again a thousand thanks,” Edmond said, bowing before the mare before unfolding his wings.

“I hope to see you again soon, my dear Edmond.” Mrs. Firrels thought to herself as she watched Edmond fly off towards the city, “Take good care of yourself.”