Derek pulled out a thick manila folder out of a satchel and slid it across the table towards the two Captains. The pink filly –Captain Gerig if he had heard right- cast a side glance towards the Diamond Dog before opening it with her telekinesis. What greeted her inside were multiple files with annexed pictures, notes and drawings, the first of which being a sigil…

“That looks like the kind of symbols we found on the monsters’ summoning circles.” She commented.

“Because it is. Cross-referencing it wasn’t easy… but they found a match in a couple extremely old archives all over Equus.” The young gargoyle asserted, his previous awkwardness absent now that he was talking about a subject he was more familiar with.

“How old exactly?”

“A couple thousand years, give or take a few centuries.” Derek crossed his arms. “Demons.”

“Actual demons?” Raimund raised her eyebrows. “That’s uh… bad. Above our paygrade I’m afraid…”

“It gets worse.” Derek added with a scowl before motioning for the small unicorn to turn the page. “As if the demonic influence in the matter wasn’t enough… it appears your planet is going to be on the receiving end of several threats.”

Next to Raimund, Dilip leaned back in his chair.

“Explain.”

“The demons… they’re a threat that was considered done with for the longest time. They were vanquished long ago –or as it turns out, neutralized- when alicorn-level entities came to power. We’re speaking of stuff like the Celestial Sisters, Queen Novo, Rain Shine, or even King Aspen. Powerful, immortal mages.”

“And they’re back.” Raimund stated.

“That… is correct.” Derek opined. “Most likely they saw the opportunity of one planet without immortals to watch over it and decided it was better than staying on Equus. That would have been bad enough, but they brought stuff along.”

“The monsters?”

“They’re not behind the presence of monsters. Not directly at least.” The gargoyle brushed a hand through his russet mane. “Doctor Venture…” He turned towards Sidereal. “Are you by any chance familiar with the gang known as ‘The Four Horses’?”

“I am.” Radiant butted in instead of Sidereal, the Pegasus sitting by the Doctor’s side. “Dangerous bunch…”

“Quite.” Derek nodded before holding his hand out towards the folder. A faint green glow appeared around his forearm before four sheets of paper rose up in his telekinesis. “The Four Horses have gone undetected for a while now, and most believed they were in hiding. Their tactics, however, do match what’s happening around here.”

“How so?” Raimund asked.

“They’re… ‘monster breeders’, sort of. Their modus operandi revolves around destabilizing an area by ‘seeding’ monsters they’ve captured or bred in one of their facilities before swooping in with a commando team while everyone’s fixing stuff to grab what they want. The summoning circle design your pictures show does look like their own… albeit with the addition of the demonic sigils to it. That’s probably how they upgraded it for off-world travel.” Derek explained, calmly laying down each file on the table.

There were four sheets, each bearing a mugshot of the apparent leaders of the ‘gang’. A unicorn, an Earth pony, a Pegasus and a batpony.

“Mage, Might, Haze and Night.” Derek clicked his tongue. “Those are their callsigns if you were wondering. Nobody knows their actual names, and they weren’t born in Equestria either so no-pony has any official data on them. Those are the ponies behind the monster attacks… with a combined bounty of over twenty-five million Abyssinian marks and two hundred life sentences.”

“That dangerous uh…” Dilip frowned. “But monsters aren’t necessarily beasts… some we’ve met could talk. Like the chimera… or the siren.”

“Never seemed to stop them, at least for chimeras. All four bear Cutie Marks related to monster taming… but don’t think that doesn’t make them dangerous.” Derek warned. “The latest head count we had on their gang numbered them at over five hundred members, encompassing nearly all types of criminal activity and commando teams. Chances are… most of them crossed over to this planet.”

Raimund looked at the four mugshots of ponies grinning at the camera with a scowl, particularly at the unicorn. A white one-eyed stallion with a sadistic smirk on his muzzle. She shuddered.

“So your demons took an international gang under their wing to assist them… most likely because they’re still too weak to operate themselves after just escaping the influence of the immortals.” The German filly spoke, the last word rolling off her tongue with an almost sarcastic emphasis. “And their jig is deploying monsters to keep people busy while their goons do the stuff that actually matters.”

“There is more than just them.”

This time it was Armiger who spoke up, the orange cat was fiddling with a pocket watch in his paw. He clasped it shut before turning his gaze towards the Captains and their Officers behind them.

“Derek here has yet to say it, but investigations have led to the conclusion that two demons crossed over to your world. Siblings, if archives are to be believed, each with its own specific mark. The Four Horses are apparently tied to one of the two, the same one that’s believed to be behind the rise of King Sombra way back, you know, dark crystals…”

Radiant inhaled sharply at the mention of Sombra.

“... and its mark is also linked to the disappearance of others, beyond just the gang. But its sibling on the other paw… Derek, if you will?” The Abyssinian threw his bodyguard a pointed look.

With a swipe of the gargoyle’s hand, a couple more files rose above the stack to float midair, allowing all assembled to take a look at them.

“Seems like that one is more focused on gaining influence at sea. We got its mark tied to the disappearance of several prominent pirates, marine biologists, and even some sea monsters the Royal Coast Guard kept tabs on. Do take note that the pirates disappeared alongside their ships, so be on the lookout for vessels that don’t match this planet’s ahem… style. Airships included, mind.” Armiger told them. “As far as I know… one of the missing pirates is even a former Captain from the Storm King’s fleet.”

The files floating midair showed them the pictures of said Captains. One old sepia photo showed an extremely muscular grey hedgehog with white quills clad in a naval uniform, another more recent one showed a dour, heavily scarred parrot; and finally the last one…

There was a perfectly decent picture of a small kirin mare smiling at them. She had a dark grey coat of fur, a pale strip of scales running down her back, and a well-groomed aquamarine mane. Compared to the other two, she was actually on the cute side, not the grisly, menacing look that was expected of a pirate.

“You’re sure about that last one?” Dilip quirked an eyebrow at the picture before looking down at the name. “I mean… it’s hard to believe a mare like that called ‘Spring Gleam’ of all things could actually be dangerous.”

“Believe me, she is.” Elaena spoke up in her raspy voice. “That crazy puta is permanently stuck in ‘Nirik’ form, never seen a creature as bloodthirsty as her. I would know, cost me my first ship and half a crew.” She told them, making a show of scratching the scar on her throat.

“I’m sorry but… ‘Nirik’?” Dilip asked her.

“A specialty of kirins.” She rasped out. “Mira, these bastards, they’re normally the stoic, quiet type. But when you get a kirin riled up…” The parrot drummed her talons against the table. “They turn into what we call a nirik. Like a kirin… but black, on fire, and very intent on destroying everything around them. Worse than a raging minotaur. As far as I know, Spring Gleam has spent more time in her life as a nirik than as a kirin. And that…” The parrot’s claws tightened into a fist, a dark look sweeping across her features. “… is precisely what makes her irredeemable. Mental health down the drain, a complete psychopath.”

“So… one demon with a gang of monster breeders on land… another at sea with pirates. That doesn’t look good for us.” Dilip stated. “And that’s without accounting for the monsters. We’re not soldiers you know…” He sighed.

“The situation isn’t completely hopeless Captain.” Sidereal tried with an awkward smile. “After all, those files here pretty much say there isn’t that many of them. And that’s all of them trying to cover an entire planet.”

And yet they kept running into monsters.

The reveal on the origin of the monsters didn’t actually take that long. All in all they were done in about half an hour after that talk. Dilip had Roberto take the investigation files and ordered the Italian to scan and upload them in their database.

Yet another thing they could trade to the HPI, for intel or for parts, that they’d have to see. The spooks had been rather quiet as of late, probably because he had told Eko how long he thought they would stay in Copenhagen. He fully expected him to send them the delivery port for their prototypes once the works on the Rhine were finished. He didn’t really have any reason to contact them in the meantime, though the Indonesian had made a passing mention of how their R&D department had a set of experiments for them once they installed the lab on Rhine.

Hopefully, the prototypes, experiments, and considerable data they were accumulating would set them up comfortably in the realm of parts. The workshop they had built on Amandine might be able to manufacture a lot of stuff, but some things like advanced electronics and high-grade components remained out of their scope, even with the 3D printers.

As were some of the larger parts. Hollow propeller shafts like Amandine’s couldn’t just be made of any kind of steel, and they needed a complex system to connect to the propellers -which were no small things in their own right-.

Under such conditions, it was no surprise they’d have to rely on the HPI for advanced stuff like that. Factories that were able to produce that kind of parts were rather advanced, so the Diamond Dog very much doubted they would be able to find a colony able to manufacture the stuff anytime soon.

That the intel they had on colonies in Mexico told them they might be able to get a refinery under their banner was lucky enough to begin with. And even then, getting the installation into operational state might not be easy.

With those thoughts swirling around his head, Dilip quietly made his way back to his cabin, grabbing a couple files from his office on the way. Some more expedition projects, along with Artyom’s completed After-Action-Report regarding the siren incident.

The motions for heating up a fresh kettle were basically muscle memory for him at this point. He set it to heating in his cabin’s kitchenette before shuffling over to the window, files in hand. Out on the docks, he could see Rhine Forest and the workers finishing the container bay, as well as the new addition of Sirocco. The airship had her ramp lowered, and he could see the forms of Derek and Elaena working around her landing gear, making sure she would stay secured to the ground if the wind picked up.

Raimund was standing by the ramp, the filly apparently discussing something with the Abyssinian that had chartered Sirocco.

The three newcomers made for a mismatched group. The parrot was pretty much what he would have expected from a Captain on a world like Equus, but the presence of an eccentric noble like Armiger was new.

Why did he think the cat was eccentric? His choice of a bodyguard. That anyone would think a young awkward mage like Derek was a good choice was… perplexing to say the least. Not that he was incompetent: his behavior and tone when they moved on to the demons proved he could be confident.

But not confident enough for what could be expected from a bodyguard. That gargoyle had something hidden up his sleeves.

What it was, the Diamond Dog very much wanted to find out.

A whistle from his kettle called him away from the door. Right, time to get to work on that paperwork about… prototypes for the oil reconditioning equipment and a request to create radio relays to extend their broadcast coverage.

Boris slowly started coming to, his mind sluggish from all the painkillers they had pumped into his bloodstream.

He opened his eyes with a groan, only to be blinded by the bright lighting and quickly close them once more. What little he had seen was enough to tell him he had indeed been shot and moved to an infirmary. Some beeping off to his side, as well as the sharp smell of disinfectant pretty much confirmed his assumption.

After waiting a minute, he eventually opened his eyes again to discover the myriad of tubes and cables they had stuck into him. No surprise really… but at least they didn’t intubate him.

Boris was lying on his back in a bed, naked and only covered by a thin white sheet. The position sure didn’t feel comfortable with his wings, but seeing the state of his chest it was probably for the better. A thick layer of bandages was wrapped over the feathers on the goshawk griffon’s chest, with a couple catheters slipping beneath them.

One of his arms had also been completely immobilized by bandages, the soft throbbing in his shoulder leaving him little doubt as to why.

His memory flashed back to the moment when he had looked at the growing red spot on his chest. Eh, at least she had only shot him once, he was lucky.

Looking around, Boris quickly found out he was inside Rhine’s infirmary. No mistake there, Amandine may be a nice ship but she didn’t benefit from having a clinic-sized med bay like the barge carrier. Using his uninjured claw, the griffon reached for the call button above his bed.

Not a minute later, Marta rolled into view on her wheelchair. The Pole-turned-hedgehog flashed him a sympathetic look and rolled closer to his bed. Behind her he saw a red and blue unicorn mare shuffle out of the clinic with a box of painkillers held in her telekinesis, the Cadet barely looking at him before leaving.

“Awake now?” She asked him in her heavily accented English.

“Unfortunately…” Boris growled out in Russian. “Hurts like Hell.” He added, switching to English.

“No shit.” The hedgehog rolled her eyes, the electric blue of her sclera somewhat unnerving to the Russian. “The bullet went all the way through; I’d be surprised if you felt good.” She explained while taking a look at his parameters.

“How long was I out?”

“Two days.” Marta told him. “You’re lucky griffons have two hearts, otherwise you might have gone into cardiac arrest you know.”

“That close uh?” Boris brushed a talon over his bandages. “Say… I was wondering.”

“Anton?”

“Yeah. How did that end?”

“Ranger Pony sedated her after you fell unconscious. We had her in custody for a day, but since she was mind-controlled, there was no point in detaining her.” Marta scowled. “Frankly I think we should lock her up.”

Boris tore his gaze away from his bandaged chest, eyes focusing on the wheelchair-bound hedgehog by his bedside.

“And I don’t.” He countered. “You ever watch any science-fiction? ‘cause I do, and I’ve seen the mind control thingy play itself often enough to know it’s not her fault.”

“She shot you, you dumb gopnik!”

“For the second time: she was mind-controlled.” Boris repeated in a louder tone, only to immediately regret rising his voice when his injuries reminded him exactly why he was inside Rhine’s clinic. “No matter which version of mind-control she was under, she wasn’t at the helm when her body pulled the trigger.” He added in a softer tone, his uninjured claw clutching at his chest wound.

Marta’s eyes quickly flicked towards Boris’ heart monitor, if only to ensure her patient wasn’t suddenly dying before her eyes. The anthropomorphic hedgehog’s narrow snout twitched before she shook her head, Boris watching the long white quills she had on the back of her head shake at the motion.

“Fine, be that way. Between you and me, we both know exactly why you’re not holding her guilty for that.” She smirked at him.

“Do I, now?” The griffon clicked his beak.

“Don’t play dumb.” Marta snorted with a roll of her eyes.

“I’m not. By all means, tell me, why am I not holding her guilty?” He asked her, a gleam appearing in the goshawk griffon’s eyes.

“Come on!” She pointed an accusatory digit at him. “You, male griffon. Her, female, half snow leopard anyone with a sense of taste would find cute-“

“I am cute?” A new voice resounded behind Marta’s back.

Anton came into view just as she walked past the curtain separating Boris’ bed from the rest. The peregrine falcon/snow leopard griffon was clad in her modified track suit, and she was now giving Marta a curious look.

“Wha- nevermind actually. I was just rambling. What are you here for? Doc’s still busy giving Zinoviya lessons on Amandine, your own visit is only due in an hour.”

“Actually I decided to come when I was told a certain someone had woken up.” The hen said, eyeing Boris. “Would you mind if I uh… had a word?”

Marta smirked in her chair, giving Boris a mirthful gaze before shrugging and rolling her wheelchair back towards the clinic’s office.

“Just don’t be too long, he’s still recovering.” She called out over her shoulder before returning to her paperwork.

She didn’t need to inspect Boris’ wounds herself anyway; Doctor Delacroix would do that herself when she got back. And frankly it was for the better, the polish nurse sort of was at a loss when it came to evaluating the progress on his wounds.

Effective as they were, Equestrian health potions were still rather new and she had yet to finish reading through the nursing manual they had been given. Turns out, they did need to take some precautions with health potions, and she wasn’t too familiar with all the possible outcomes.

Back by Boris’ bed, Anton hawkwardly shifted her weight from one side to another. Her wings fluttered underneath her track suit before she lifted her eyes up to look at him. Underneath her feathers, the Russian could see hints of small scars around her eyes, albeit subtly hidden by some of the violet stripes she had adorning her plumage. He caught the sorrow in her yellow-orange eyes.

“I… I wanted to say thank you.” She muttered in Ukrainian. “For what you did. I’m… I’m sorry this ended up with you injured like this.”

Boris leaned back into his pillow, slowly adjusting his wings so he’d not lie directly on them.

“So you do remember what happened…” He sighed, easily switching to Ukrainian.

Might as well, at least that’d ensure Marta wouldn’t be eavesdropping on them.

“Did you tell anyone?” He asked her.

“No… figured it was rather personal…” She said, head held low.

“It is.” The male griffon said in an icy tone. “Nobody in the fleet besides you actually knows I can speak Ukrainian.”

“Not even Artyom?”

“Artyom?” Boris shuckled. “To him I’m just your regular gopnik shithead. Old fool has no idea.”

“That’s uh…” She deflated a bit. “Great I guess? I don’t know why you’d want to keep that hidden. Anyway… I wanted to offer you my thanks. Without you I might still be enthralled right now. I… I owe you my life.”

“Don’t you think you’re exaggerating?” He gave her a flat look.

“No!” She protested loudly. “It’s you that gave me something to latch on. I was a prisoner in my own head; I was forced to watch as my body refused to respond to my orders…” She gave a shudder that reverberated all the way through her fluffy tail. “It’s not something you want to be subjected to, ever. Even after Gust sedated me I was still fighting inside, even after the siren was killed too if I put the pieces together correctly.” She raised her head, steeling her nerves to look him straight in the eyes. “And it’s you that gave me what I needed to fight back. I’m indebted to you.”

Boris just quirked an eyebrow at her.

“Big words right there.” He drawled.

“Maybe.” She conceded. “Doesn’t change my meaning. I want to do right by you. It may not have been me at the helm, but it’s my talons that carried out the deed. So uh… I asked Doc Delacroix earlier and…” She rubbed a claw against the back of her neck. “She said if I was volunteering to be your caretaker you could leave the clinic earlier.”

“My caretaker?”

“Well, she did say you could leave earlier, not that you wouldn’t be bedridden.” She shrugged. “With a wound like yours even if you wanted to you wouldn’t be able to walk around. Doc said I’d need to help you with the menial stuff, watch your wounds, change your bandages…” She looked up towards the ceiling as she explained. “So uh… my offer?”

A small smile creased the corners of Boris’ beak.

“Hold out your claw.”

“I’m sorry?”

“I said ‘hold out your claw’, ‘cause we got ourselves a deal. Ain’t that hard now is it?” The Russian told her as he extended his uninjured claw towards her.

Frankly the attitude was more for show because even lifting his good claw was enough to send lances of searing pain through his injured shoulder on the other side. She didn’t need to know that though.

Anton eyed the proffered limb for a second before firmly shaking his claw.

“Alright, deal.”

Elsewhere on the docks, Alejandro was walking up to Sirocco. The airship had her ramp lowered, with Derek standing watch beside it. The Spanish parrot managed to sneak a peek inside her crate-filled cargo hold before the gargoyle standing watch interrupted his observations with a polite cough.

“How may I be of assistance, sir?” Derek asked, not sure of the parrot’s rank, though the golden trim on his coveralls’ shoulders was enough to tell him he was pretty high-ranked.

“Just out on a walk away from the paperwork. Felt like taking a closer look at this here ship.” The Spaniard answered with a polite smile as he looked up at the two looming balloons above them. “Impressive ship she is, we don’t use airships much on this planet.” He commented before returning his gaze to the gargoyle by the ramp. “Courtesies aside, Doctor Venture was wondering if your group was planning to give a briefing on some of the races the Equestrian are… less familiar with, simply put.”

“A briefing?”

“Why yes, a briefing.” Alejandro answered matter-of-factly. “You did mention upon arriving that you had documentation available. Are you going to present the information yourself or should the ponies come and pick up the books so they can arrange it themselves? That’s what Sidereal was asking. We may have learned a lot on ponies, griffons and hippogriffs but…” He shrugged. “No clue on the rest. Hell, I don’t even know the proper name for what I turned into, much less if there’s anything I should pay attention to.”

“Parrots, we usually go by parrots.” A raspy voice joined their conversation just as Elaena emerged out of the depths of Sirocco’s cargo hold.

She had now shed her duffle coat in favor of a lighter sleeveless pilot shirt better suited for the summer weather. Her emerald crest of feathers was held behind her head by a red bandana with her ship’s name embroidered on the side.

As for why she needed the lighter clothing, the subtle sheen of perspiration on her plumage was enough to tell Alejandro the female parrot had been moving crates around her cargo hold. Not that he disliked the more revealing nature of her apparel. Not. At. All.

“Just parrots?” He quirked his head, the hyacinth macaw’s crest of feathers extending halfway up in bemusement.

“We’re practical folks.” She crossed her arms, leaning against a stack of crates. “Diamond Dogs, Abyssinians, we don’t need fancy names like those. Just don’t let anyone call you a harpy.” She concluded with a small sneer on her beak. “That’s a slur if you were wondering.”

“Figured that the moment it left your beak.” Alejandro smiled. “Anything I should know?”

Elaena held up a talon in the universal ‘wait a sec’ motion before once more disappearing out of sight in the cargo hold. Alejandro shared a side glance with Derek as they heard her start rummaging inside before she came back out with a green canvas-covered book with the picture of a macaw parrot on it.

Oddly enough, the macaw depicted on the cover had her wings extended in place of regular arms like every parrot he had seen since the Event, Elaena included.

“Basic biology and magical features in our species. Also includes a bit of history if that interests you. It’s not in Equestrian though, came from Ornithia, my own collection…” She rasped out, walking down the ramp to pass the book to Alejandro.

The hyacinth macaw accepted the book with a soft ‘gracias’, noting in passing with the slightest hint of annoyance how much taller Elaena was compared to him. Sure, male parrots had much more bulk to their frame than the females, but the height difference still felt genuinely weird to the former human.

Then he eyed the foreword on the cover.

He did a double-take.

“Excuse me, but what language is it written in?” He asked in an almost forlorn voice, his ‘thumb’ claw softly brushing over words that hit a place he thought doomed to disappear.

“Standard Ornithian, if a bit old-fashioned. Why?”

Alejandro frowned a second before opening the book to a random page and proceeding to read a few lines. The grammar and syntax weren’t identical but the language sure was similar.

To Galician, his actual mother tongue. Galego…

See, many people were unaware there were more languages in Spain than just plain Spanish –which was, actually, Castilian Spanish-. In fact he was pretty sure even Dilip didn’t know about it, though he couldn’t blame the Indian since he was himself pretty unaware of most intricacies with Hindi, aside from the fact the Mumbai-born Captain could also speak Marathi.

Being from Galicia, his parents had been very insistent that he be raised with Galego as his mother tongue, something he had sworn himself to never forget when he moved on and away from his birth region. Even after years of speaking Castilian daily and having people treat him as if it was his mother tongue, the language still occupied a fond place in the Chief Officer’s heart. He even had a couple hardback books in Galician inside his cabin.

Far too often he had met Spanish speakers who confused the tones he put in his Castilian Spanish and call him boorish, not recognizing telltale hints of Galician grammar that sometimes seeped through. But now…

He followed the lines on the page with one talon. That language… save for a few articles it was by and large identical to Galician. His breath caught in his throat.

“You alright there?” Elaena asked, spurring the Chief Officer to finally tear his gaze away from the book held in his claws.

“Tell me, does this language sound familiar to you?” He asked the other parrot, quickly switching to Galician.

Elaena recoiled slightly, a bemused look on her features.

“Where did you learn Ornithian?”

“Ornithian uh…” The word rolled off his tongue. “On this planet we call this language ‘Galician’. It’s my mother tongue but… very few people actually speak it. It’s mostly confined to a small section of the Iberian Peninsula.”

“Really now? That’s surprising. See, we parrots are actually very spread out as a race, few of us still live in Ornithia so we don’t even have that many native speakers left either.” The parrot deplored. “To discover there are other speakers, even if it’s just a few on another planet, well… that’s a relief. I wasn’t born in Ornithia you know?”

“Really?”

“Nah. Me and my sister, we hatched in Klugetown. A remote trade post. I didn’t see the homeland until I was twenty, and I’m the only one in my family who did.”

And it was rather disheartening that she was the only one. Not even her sister -who was now considered a rather prominent example of a parrot in Equestria- had ever set foot there. Elaena was one of a dwindling population of Ornithian speakers on Equus, all the others never seeing the appeal in learning the tongue of a homeland they never saw nor wanted to see.

Ornithia wasn’t always like that. A shadow of the country it once was. Long before she was hatched, the country had been a well-off land, lush and full of riches.

Sitting down on the edge of Sirocco’s ramp, Eleana beckoned for Alejandro to join her and listen to the tale of her homeland. Out of the corner of her eyes, she also spotted Derek light up a spark in his fingers before applying it to his ears.

A translation spell.

Let the gargoyle listen to it if he wanted, that tale was no secret, though few liked to hear it.

Ornithia was, in fact, a very large volcanic island situated almost on top of Equus’ equator, and was also regarded as a meteorological and geological anomaly.

The main island was shaped like an ellipse, with the snow-capped silhouettes of two volcanoes -Loro and Arara- dominating the landscape with their snow-capped calderas. The particularity with the main island was that the ground didn’t simply go down from the top of the volcanoes to the black sand of the beaches. It actually made several ‘trenches’ in concentric circles around the volcanoes, each seasonally collecting water and spawning a marshy terrain that allowed a very lush rainforest to grow despite the slopes. The island’s location along an important ley line only accentuated the fact, leading to trees so large you could simply carve a three-master out of them if you wanted to.

Elaena fondly told Alejandro about her last visit to the island and about the wealth of rare magical plants and fruits that grew in the jungles of the main island, their magically-charged nature leading to the bioluminescent biome that grew in the darkest, lowest parts of the rainforest, incidentally the most dangerous as well because of the predators that dwelled there, some fierce enough to give Equestria’s famous breed of manticore a run for its money.

Yet the magic of Ornithia didn’t stop there. Elaena’s people had to be crafty to thrive on the island. They had found ways to establish settlements in the upper reaches of the canopy, out of range of the predators and in reach of the juiciest fruits. Their life aloft was what lead them to inventing the first airships, as well as being the reason behind Ornithia’s signature network of suspended roadways that criss-crossed through the branches all over the island.

The only place where you’d find something built on the ground on the main island would be the docks along the beaches. Considering parrots’ preference towards airships, there weren’t even that many of them. Not that you could have built much on the ground even if you wanted to: the marshy terrain caused by the concentric trenches basically ensured the lower parts of the jungle were entirely made out of a maze of a mangrove.

And there was even more to Ornithia than the main island. All around it was an archipelago of small islands, some barely more than a strip of sand with a palm tree. And there were thousands of them all around the main island, each profiting from favorable seas and warm waters. The reason behind those being the much larger atoll that protected Ornithia.

“An atoll?” Alejandro quirked his head.

“Yeah. A Parede da Obsidiana. It circles around the entire archipelago and shelters it from the very rough seas around it. Its obsidian cliffs, when you look at them in the evening sun, they look like jagged teeth peeking over the horizon, with the raging seas behind them. Frankly with a sight like that it’s a miracle my ancestors ever decided to fly over them and set out to explore the world.”

“Wait, I get it all. The island and surrounding archipelago are basically paradise. So why did people leave?”

“Loro exploded.” Elaena whispered somberly. “It’s been seventy-three years now. Princess Luna even says she saw the eruption from space. In a matter of second, a pyroclastic flow blasted through and destroyed most of the inner circles on the main island. Tens of thousands were killed in a matter of minutes. And what happened next… a Néboa da Morte.”

The ash cloud.

Famine. Ash poisoning. Lung illnesses. The parrots’ lifestyle in the upper reaches of the canopy made it even worse. The fruits they relied on for food could no longer grow because of the ash covering the leaves and darkening the skies. Their young and elders started dying in droves, choking on the ash-laden air that covered the entire archipelago in a dim haze.

By then airship travel was nothing new, so it was no wonder that most parrots fled the country, particularly considering it took no less than three years for the haze to fade away. Only the hardiest and most stubborn of parrots remained after the fact.

According to statistics, the cataclysm killed a fifth of the entire archipelago’s population, the vast majority of them after the initial eruption. Among the survivors, two thirds fled the country, never to return to a land now associated with death, ash and fire.

The land healed. Trees grew to fill the void left behind in the inner circles, crops sprouted anew in the upper reaches of the canopy. Sure, there were still strips of charred land devoid of trees, but the area they occupied was dwindling as years went by.

But people? Memories last a while, and Loro had left a nasty scar in the heart of its people.

Most of those who returned only ever did for a while. To pay respects by one of the many memorials that dotted Ornithia’s black shores. Nothing more. They left quickly after that, once they made sure to spit in the volcano’s general direction. It had left such a nasty mark in parrot history it had been removed from their flag, its name now associated with bad omens and only spoken in hushed tones.

Other races later came to fill the void left by the parrots. The boiling lava of Arara’s caldera suited a dragon colony just fine.

Hippogriffs were rather fond of the fair seas inside the atoll, managing to occupy spots nobody else wanted, be it as hippogriffs by nesting on the jagged cliffs of the outer atoll or as seaponies in one of the many reefs of the archipelago.

But of all those parrots that fled the country, only less than three percent ever came back to the land of their ancestors.

“That’s terrible Elaena…”

“It is. But want to know what’s worse? Having most of your species and family decide it’s better to run away from your past and forget about it.” Elaena closed her eyes and breathed out softly, one claw digging under her shirt to lift out a small necklace.

It was just a simple string with an obsidian pendant attached to it. No frills at all, the stone wasn’t even carved, still in a jagged state as if it had just been ripped out of a cliff. She ran a digit over its sharp edge, the motion drawing a drop of blood.

“It’s not my place to judge. I wasn’t there.” Alejandro said, slowly standing up. “Maybe they have their reasons, a cataclysm like that is no small thing. God knows my birth region didn’t have problems of its own with youngsters –me included- leaving the region to seek out work and knowledge elsewhere. Nothing quite on your scale however I’m afraid.” He stopped to stare at the parrot biology book he still held in his claw before offering Elaena his other claw. “So, shall we get back to that first topic?”

The female parrot gladly accepted the proffered claw, Alejandro effortlessly hoisting her up on her feet before offering her a comforting pat on the shoulder. Going by her face, it wasn’t easy for her to retell her people’s story.

Elaena thanked him with a small smile before motioning for him to follow after her.

“So you don’t know anything about what parrots can do?”

“’fraid I don’t.” He shrugged. “This body feels faster than a human’s, at the cost of some strength but that’s about it.” He mused. “We don’t seem to need to preen quite as much as griffons or hippogriffs, and we got one guy-turned-gal that figured we’re double-jointed. How much more complicated can it get?”

“Forgot about magic.” Derek commented, the gargoyle having decided it was better for him to just follow them, his ears flickering intermittently with the soft glow of his translation spell.

“What? Now we can do magic like the unicorns?”

“Not in that sense, no.” Elaena corrected him just as she came to a halt near a portion of free quay. “But we do have some interesting abilities.”

“What for?”

“Mobility.” The other parrot winked at him before jumping over the edge of the quay.

Alejandro let out a surprised yelp before rushing over, fully expecting to see a swimming parrot or something.

What he didn’t expect was to see her standing there confidently, with her claws on her hips and a grin on her beak. Water was lapping at her bare ankles, but she wasn’t sinking. She was just… there, standing on top of several meters of water as if it were a solid surface.

Alejandro’s lower mandible practically hit the floor.

“Surprised much?” Derek chuckled.

Amandine’s Chief Officer just stuttered in confusion.

“There you go, we can walk on water. See, worldwide, a parrot’s magic is considered as geared towards mobility. We can almost match Earth Ponies and centaurs in a run, we give Abyssinians a run for their money when it comes to jumping, walk on water to at least challenge the seaponies and…” She made a dramatic pause. “… It gets better.”

“Better? Seems impressive enough already!”

“Really now? Sit down then, you might need it.” Elaena chuckled, the rasp in her voice causing the chuckle to take on an unpleasant whistling noise. “Let’s try something: traditional Ornithian attire always keeps the arms bare or lightly covered. Bracelets and tight sleeves are good, but nothing loose like your coveralls. Why do you think we do that?”

“To style on other races with our dashing looks?”

Elaena laughed.

“That too, but most go naked and don’t make it much of a challenge.” She shook her head, throat still rumbling in amusement. “No, listen here friend: we can fly.”

“Horseshit.” Alejandro snorted before extending out an arm. “That here, that’s an arm, not a wing. And we don’t have wings on our back like dragons or gargoyles either.”

Sirocco’s Captain squinted at him, a small smile creasing the corners of her beak. She extended her arms out.

“Observe!”

And in a flourish accompanied by a white gleam, her arms turned into a pair of great white wings, with green primaries akin to those she had on her crest and tail. With a heave, she launched herself up in the air before coming back down on the quay in a glide, her wings carrying her weight through the air with little to no apparent trouble.

She came to a rest a few meters in front of Alejandro and Derek, the gargoyle not the least bit surprised by the action, unlike the Spaniard by his side. Elaena crossed her arms in front of her chest, the long primaries forming a cloak of sorts around her statuesque frame.

“I hereby present you the Lost Art of Ornithia. Legend has it magic gifted our feral ancestors with arms to civilize them, grounding them in the process. With proper training, we can revert our arms to their primal state and ascend once more.”

“Just… how?!”

“By the same logic hippogriffs can turn back and forth between land and sea shape.” She explained, opening up her wings slightly to reveal her shirt underneath. There was her obsidian pendant, now emitting a subtle white glow. “We use artifacts. This obsidian is more than just a memorial to the cataclysm. We have always been able to take a shard from Loro or Arara to touch the skies. Nowadays… the diaspora and taboo about the volcanoes has rendered it a lost art. Only a select few on Ornithia still practice it, I myself had to journey up the slopes of the volcano to get my own shard.”

“Ah I see.” The pieces clicked together for Derek. “If the hippogriffs on this planet can turn into seaponies without their pearl shards, there is no reason the parrots couldn’t get their wings either.”

“You genuinely think I can do… that?” Alej’ gestured towards her folded wings.

“No reason you couldn’t. Now… it’s probably going to be harder since I can’t toss you in the water and expect you to come back up with a pair of wings, but I suspect with a bit of elbow grease it can be done…”

She paused a second and proceeded to use one of her feet’s claws to grab a cigarillo from a pouch on her belt, accidentally demonstrating how parrots could still retain a measure of dexterity even in winged form.

Gotta thank the prehensile claws and double-jointed limbs for that.

“… Now I gotta admit, this shape does have its limit. We are nowhere near actual winged species when it comes to performance in the air, so you shouldn’t expect to keep up with a griffon. This is more geared towards surviving long falls, accessing certain areas and, on Ornithia at least, easily make your way through the canopy. Even a trained flyer like myself can only last a couple minutes in the air before I exhaust myself… and as a word of warning: winged species can glide when they’re exhausted. You’re using your magic to maintain that form so when you exhaust yourself…”

“No more wings.” Alej’ completed.

“Damn right. Careful with that trick then. No cloudwalk either.”

“Well alright.” Alejandro replied, gingerly looking at his arm and wondering what it would look like if Elaena’s guess on the winged form was correct. “When do we start training?”

“Later.” Elaena stated, finally dispelling her winged form. “I gotta review the cargo inventory and your visit reminded me I need to pass the documents we have to Doctor Venture’s team.”

“Don’t forget the alchemical items.” Derek pointed out.

“Alchemi-what now?” Alejandro asked.

“Alchemical. You humans don’t appear to have potions in the same sense we do on Equus, so Doc Venture introduced a request for alchemical manuals, some basic gear and components, to pass you the skill set. She said if there was one group that could make it work, it would be yours.”

“Wait so now you’re telling me you’re gonna teach us how to make potions?”

“To a certain extent. We got a crate of samples and ingredients, as well as a couple more worth of seeds for useful magical plants and herbs. All the stuff you’d need to make healing potions, among other things.”

Considering one of the initial plans was to set up a lab and hydroponics on Rhine, this wasn’t too much of a stretch. Hell, Rahul had even come forward with a proposal for a greenhouse container to be mounted on Amandine’s deck once he caught word of the hydroponics, though his idea was more for food.

Now they wouldn’t even need to reverse-engineer the potions.

“Right, potions coming soon. Back to our training, where were we?” He asked Elaena.

“Come back to Sirocco this evening, we’ll see to get you those wings.”

“Alone?” He smiled.

Elaena grinned back before brushing past him, one claw caressing his shoulder.

“Of course. Otherwise it would be boring, wouldn’t it?” She whispered softly in his ear, which only served to make the hyacinth macaw’s crest rise.

Needless to say, Derek hadn’t heard that last sentence.

Way beyond Copenhagen and the woes of Amandine’s crew, one small trawler was seeking refuge from a storm.

Dornada was an Argentinean-flagged purse seiner. She had been sailing south of Cape Horn at the time of the Event, intent on filling her holds before heading back to port much further north. At forty meters in length, she wasn’t particularly big, though large enough to confront the open seas as long as her skipper wasn’t dead at the helm.

She was no brand new vessel either, and even though Captain Alvarez made sure she was well-maintained, rust still poked through the blue paint and the bearings of her fishing gear were caked in old grease.

So much you can do in the way of maintenance with a crew of five.

Alvarez was old, hard as it was to admit. He was slowly but surely nearing his seventies, he knew he shouldn’t be out in the middle of the Atlantic at his age but… he was left with little choice. Payments were due, and his only son had been injured in an accident on the docks one week earlier. It had fallen to him to take the ship and bring the fish home, otherwise…

As he said, payments were due. Dornada was his girl, he knew how to make her work, and he had taken a few younger folks along to help him with the newer stuff his son had fitted her with. Like the comms station.

Then the Event struck.

One moment they were sailing through quiet seas headed for a fishing spot and… next thing he knew he was wrestling with the helm as they were surprised by a storm that spawned on top of them. He lost one good sailor in the first minute of their reappearance, Paco being swept away by the first wave that hit them on their beam. He never saw it coming. And they were lucky the wave didn’t capsize the ship outright.

To make things worse, he had somehow turned into some kind of parrot. Just like another on the crew, the other two had become weird cats.

No time to dwell on that however. For hours he was forced to remain at the helm and keep the waves from swallowing them all. No matter which course he steered, that damned storm just seemed to follow them.

Dornada was far too old for that kind of struggle; he could hear her engines sputter under the strain. From time to time, the newly made parrot could have sworn he saw hints of a ghostly dirigible up in the sky each time a bolt of lightning lit it up.

At first they tried to head back to their homeport despite the storm.

Half an hour of fighting against the weather lead to the loss of the ship’s antennas, as well as having most of the fishing gear ripped right off the deck. One of the cables must have gotten stuck in a propeller by that point because it was at that point they lost thrust on starboard.

Espinoza, his Chief Mate –now a black cat-, convinced him to switch plans. Going with the way the storm was pushing them, maybe they could limp to the Beagle Channel and head to Ushuaia for repairs. The channel should be better sheltered from the storm. They’d never make it home on one propeller. Not with that weather.

It worked better. Marginally. They still wound up with one casualty. Espinoza broke his leg just as he was climbing down the ladder between the bridge and the chart room. Alvarez gritted his beak when he heard the sickening cracking of bone against steel followed by a pained yowl, but he didn’t leave the helm. He couldn’t. The grey cat was brought to his bed with a splint by the two remaining sailors where they secured him so he wouldn’t be jostled too much whenever a wave sent the damaged ship lurching.

Eventually, Dornada made it to port.

Only to be disappointed by what they found.

As night came, they pulled into the approaches to Ushuaia, fully expecting to see moored cruise ships, lit streets and tourists running back to their hotels to escape the storm. No dice. They were lucky to even see the faint light of the failing buoys. The town was… deserted.

No cars. No ships. Not a single passerby in the streets. All dark, with only the icy rain draping a cold curtain over the city and masking the mountains in the distance. In fact, Alvarez was pretty sure that even if the storm hadn’t torn away their antennas the radio would still have been silent.

“What in the blazes happened there?” He muttered under his breath just as his sailors were tying the mooring lines to a jetty.

Ushuaia was supposed to be a bustling port, filled with vaguely adventurous tourists. That right there… it looked like everyone had just up and left.

Through the rain, he spotted the two yellow silhouettes of his sailors’ parkas suddenly disappear. Quickly, he rushed over to the window and pressed his beak against the window, hoping to spot them despite Dornada’s weak deck lights. He grabbed a walkie-talkie, calling out to them.

No response.

A lightning bolt hitting the side of the nearby mountains briefly lit up the sky. There! Next to a mooring bit, a flicker of yellow.

Alvarez grabbed a flashlight from under his seat and resolved to go after them. What the hell were they thinking, running off in the night like that? In the middle of a storm to boot, and they had a casualty on board. He spared a minute to drop off a walkie-talkie by Espinoza so his Chief Mate could call him if necessary before heading out in the night.

Fat drops of water pelted his parka the moment he stepped out, his own flashlight almost blinding him when the light reflected off the raindrops. A chill ran down the parrot’s spine, the rain was quick to rob him of what little warmth he had.

Ushuaia was as close a port you’d find to the South Pole after all.

With a grumble, the old Argentinean pushed on through the rain and hoisted himself up on the jetty. Those two couldn’t be that far…

He quickly found the mooring bit and knelt down.

There was an abandoned parka, with his ship’s name on the back. He went to grab it, only to discover the pool of goop and blood it was lying in.

“Que diablos…”

Espinoza’s panicked voice came over the radio, garbled, unintelligible. Before he even had time to tune up the frequency and ask him what was wrong, a blood-curling scream pierced the air, the sound echoed by his walkie-talkie.

Alvarez turned away from the bloody parka and moved to run back to the ship, only to bump into a large black silhouette. He tumbled down on his rear, still not familiar with the avian body he had only had a couple hours to familiarize himself with so far.

“So pitiful…” A rough voice chuckled in English, though the chuckle was more of a disembodied gargling noise.

Another lightning bolt hit, allowing the parrot a look at the silhouette.

There was a… creature. Some might have called it a hedgehog in another time, but it was now far too disfigured to even call it that. Rippling muscles bulged underneath a tattered navy coat, the ranks on the shoulders ripped away a long time ago. The creature’s coat of fur and quills was poorly maintained, barren in places which allowed Alvarez to look at the sickly skin underneath and the dark goopy tendrils that seemed to run under its skin. Two such tendrils extended out of its back, extra limbs…

That bore the bodies of his missing sailors impaled on them.

The fisherman’s gaze flicked to the head of the creature. Goop dripping from a half-open muzzle that let out a gargling laugh as it starred him down through vacant eyes.

And behind the hedgehog, a ghostly dirigible hung in the sky.

With a ripping noise, another tendril emerged out of the hedgehog’s back before impaling Alvarez right in his heart. Soon, the Argentinean joined his two sailors in hanging on the creature’s back.

Minutes later, the dirigible left with three new bodies to join its crew and a new wreck half-submerged in Ushuaia’s port, its injured Chief Mate still trapped inside. Injured bodies made for poor thralls…

Author's Notes:

Little reminder I put one BBEG off Cape Horn and the other on top of Mt Fuji, lest we forget. Dornada couldn't have picked a worse place to reappear. Considering there are two of them Demons, anyone who's already read canon PaP probably figured out their names already.

Hint: Homer's Odyssey, 'nuf said.

Hope you liked Ornithia's tale. Canon MLP (comics included) doesn't really tell much about it except for its name and the fact parrots come from there. I took it as an opportunity to come up with something.

Expect the same for races like gargoyles, centaurs and hedgehogs (a.k.a. Storm Creatures). Hopefully season 9 won't invalidate it all.