“Well it’s grown alright...” Rockhoof grunted.

It was the first time the Earth Pony was back by the Golden Tree on his own, Meadowbrook being currently busy taking care of Martin. The sun was nearing noon by the time the large stallion finally reached the clearing, distractedly brushing a little scrape on his shoulder courtesy of the hunchback boar. Turns out, it wasn’t as nice to ponies when it didn’t have a sow and piglets to worry about.

The cart-sized beast got off considerably worse than him at least. Oh he spared it alright, but the boar wouldn’t be messing with him anytime soon.

Daylight may have robbed the clearing of some of its mystical charm, but it couldn’t take away all of it. Sparks of concentrated magic flickered in the air like fireflies, accompanied by the ever-present thrumming in his ears such that could only be encountered near powerful convergence sites. He swallowed, the taste of copper palpable on his tongue just like the smell of ozone in the air.

As for the Golden Tree, it sure had changed since the first time Rock saw it. For one it had doubled in size, in a matter of days. No more was there a tiny antler-shaped tree in the centre of the clearing, now a far more robust – albeit still small- tree with solids roots. The crystalline veins were now completely part of its bark, each of them connecting the pulsating six-pointed crystal star between its branches to the network of roots at its base, the veins themselves twisting and turning between newly formed branches and knots.

It even had foliage to boot: perfectly uniform oak leaves of gold and crystal that rustled despite the absence of wind, every single one of them glowing faintly and casting a halo of light above the trunk.

“Impressive don’t you think?” Starswirl said, the ghost popping up behind him in his equine form.

Rockhoof didn’t grant him the pleasure of acting surprised.

“Isn’t it odd it’s grown so much? I mean, how long has it been? A week at most?” He asked the mage.

“Not really. It’s a known fact magic can accelerate plant growth, so I wouldn’t worry about that too much.” Star said.

“Yeah, I know what we Earth Pony can’t do. That though, that’s too fast, even by our standards. But you’re implying there’s something to be concerned about?”

“Concerned? Not really.” His friend frowned before shifting to his human form for a moment. “Take a look, not at the tree itself—amazing as this blend of human and Equestrian magic is-, but at what’s around it.”

Rockhoof glanced away from his friend. The area in the tree’s direct vicinity had indeed been affected.

Golden grass had sprouted in a circle around the trunk, replacing the coarse weeds that used to grow in the tree’s vicinity. It looked like it was spreading too, Rockhoof could see some strands of the golden grass had branches out, reaching for the edges of the clearing.

The tree’s crystalline roots had connected to the six charred trunks arrayed in a circle around it, winding around them like vines, cracking the blackened bark and pumping the first signs of life back into them. Already, Rock could see specks of gold had broken up the charcoal-esque surface of the six husks, with hints of encrusted jewels in each of them at head level.

Head level to a quadruped, of course.

Hold on, six? The Tree of Harmony only ever had five branches holding the Elements, with Magic residing in the trunk. He counted again, and no, his mind wasn’t fooling him. There were six jewels, one per trunk, plus the crystal star in the Golden Tree itself.

Total: seven.

“What’s up with that Star?” Rockhoof questioned, his left ear flicking in curiosity.

Colours were already visible in the jewels: pink, yellow, orange for the element he used to wield, purple, red,… and green. That one was new, if Magic still was in the trunk as it should be.

“I’ve been trying to figure that out.” Star said as he cast a spell while in his Merlin form. “Though the blending of magics involved in this tree makes that… nigh impossible I’m afraid. For now at least.” He sighed, releasing his grip on the spell to lean on his staff.

“You don’t know?”

“I consider myself to be an expert in magic of both the human and equine sort, Rock. Unfortunately, magic is an ever-changing subject and my sealing in both worlds gives me a thousand-year to catch up on, more or less.” He explained, electing to stay in human form for a little while. “Furthermore, I know of no artefact of human origin that could be compared to the Elements.”

Rockhoof watched the Enchanter’s ethereal gaze drift off, past the tree, towards a darker area of the woods, his thumb distractedly stroking the haft of his staff.

“You have an idea. And it’s not a good one.” The Earth Pony guessed.

“Mayhaps.” Star said. “I’m only one… ghost. So much I can do with only my own expertise, and I don’t have a lab anymore either. Can’t rely on my version in Equestria to research Earth magic either, even though I can use it to get any information I want on Equestrian magic.”

“And somepony around here does have a ‘lab’?” He made quotation marks with his hooves.

“Some-body, rather. Though… she and I didn’t part in the best of terms last time we met. Remember what I said about the fay?”

“That you’d tell us more about them eventually. What are they?”

“It’s a general term for multiple creatures that manifest in a common fashion. They can be demons, ascended enchantresses, elementals and spirits that all appear in the form of young nubile women with an ethereal aura. There are two fairly important fays living in these woods.”

“’Fairy’ important you mean?” Rock joked. “Ah, I take it that’s the two we saw on our first day.”

“Right on the mark, friend.”

Merlin paused for a moment, the ghost making a pained grimace at the thought of the two High-Fays of Broceliande.

“… and there’s a catch?”

“As I said, we didn’t part on the best terms. I have wronged them. Severely. Both of them.” He said, tightening his grip on his staff. “Badly enough that it warranted sealing me away.”

“And now we need their help. Great.” Rockhoof snarked.

“I… I will come up with something. Surely nopony stays angry for a thousand years right? I mean, they didn’t banish me the moment I freed myself, so that’s got to mean something.”

“Why do I get the feeling it’s like the Canterlot Archmage incident all over again?” Rockhoof sighed.

“Because it is? I’m sorry Rock, I just can’t help myself with...”

“Stop.” The stallion raised his hoof to interrupt him. “I know you Star, and it seems like human or pony you can’t help yourself whenever you see a powerful, female magician.”

“That’s the gist of it, yes.” The mage admitted with a shrug.

“Does she like flowers too?”

“Morgane? Uh… not really… she’s more of the ‘Dark Enchantress’ type. Goat skulls all around her hut last I visited a millennium back.”

“Oh horseapples...” Rock facehoofed. “Buck it, I’ll ask Meadow to prepare an offering of potion components and play wingcolt again. That should work. By the way... you’re hopeless.”

“Thanks!” Starswirl said, brightening up and switching back to unicorn-form.

“Hold on pal, you’re not scot-free yet.” Rockhoof said. “You’ll owe me and Meadow a favour for that.”

“Go on...”

“Remember Martin? The little fawn?”

“What of him?”

“Meadow’s been trying all she could to get him to settle over the… you know, loss of his parents. Kid’s said one thing though: reason he was around here in the first place was ‘cause he’s a fan of yours. Merlin, that is. So maybe...” Rockhoof trailed off.

Starswirl squinted at the much larger stallion, motioning for him to go on with his hoof.

“Look, Meadow and I, we just need a bit of ‘us-time’ if you catch my drift. And Martin, he won’t stop gushing over the ‘Legend of Merlin’ and some ‘Sword in the Stone’. We just need you to watch over him, an evening or two. So?”

“Deal.” Starswirl nodded. “I’ll keep an eye of him while you two lovebirds ‘get busy’.”

Both of them then lapsed into silence for a few minutes, observing the tree. The air in the clearing felt heavy, both because of the magic and because of the summer heat that permeated the area with little hope of a refreshing breeze.

“He’s a rather nice kid you know. Once you get past the fanboy-ism, I’ve never seen a fawn that young so willing to help around. More so nowadays.”

“He’s growing on you.”

“That he is. I… Look, I never really got to know my children you know, back in Equestria. They were barely a few months old when we got sealed away with Stygian.” He said sombrely. “And when we got back, I had all these folks turn up claiming I was their ancestor and that they’d preserved the traditions.”

“You looked into it?”

“I did.” Rock nodded. “History books wouldn’t tell me if they ever resented that papa never was there for them. But they sure make it look like they did all they could to match me.”

“They did?” Star said, sounding genuinely interested.

“My son united all the Northern Tribes under one banner to help the Legion fight the dragons, with the Mighty Helm becoming an elite Earth Pony infantry regiment; and my daughter is responsible for digging up a network of lava trenches that’s still maintained to this day… Saved the entire region more than a hundred times ever since...” Rock said, voice trembling. “I… I know they were awesome in their own right. I’m just...” His eyes shone with the hints of tears welling up. “I never got to see my little foals. And all the paintings and statues of them were as adults, not the...” He choked. “Sorry.” He said, wiping a hoof across his eyes.

He felt something cold on his back, slowly turning his head to see the ghost had thrown a friendly hoof over his shoulders. Somehow.

“You don’t have to be ashamed, friend. We all sacrificed a lot for Equestria.”

“I’m aware. It’s just… there’s this dark part of me that sometimes whispers that maybe, just maybe, I shouldn’t have come along just so I could have lived with my family.”

“We’ll work on fixing that okay? This time around, you won’t have to be the hero that makes the sacrifice. That’s the point of the tree, alright? To choose the next generation of heroes that will fight the demons.”

“Yeah, thanks Star.”

Before they could once more lapse into contemplative silence, his mage friend abruptly threw a glance westward.

“Something the matter?”

Starswirl raised a hoof telling him to hold on before he lit up his horn to cast a quick detection spell. Not a second later, he facehoofed, muttering some curse words under his breath.

“Remember when I said I told local survivors to head for your castle?”

“They got lost, didn’t they?”

“That they did. There were two I found in a nearby military base a dozen mileseast of the castle. Looks like they got lost and wandered off here.”

“Hold on. East of the castle?! The castle is between the forest and their base then; how could they possibly go past the castle and completely miss it?”

Starswirl shrugged.

“Eh, that’s lieutenants for you.”

Rockhoof looked up towards the sky, a resigned sigh escaping his lips. The more things changed, the more they stayed the same...

The door to Dilip’s office closed with a soft click before the Diamond Dog crossed the short distance to his desk in a few calm strides. Sitting down, he allowed himself a few seconds to take a sip of his tea – Darjeeling, as always- before finally turning his attention towards the griffon in front of his desk.

“Alright, report time. How was Carrickfergus?” He asked.

He knew the written report was right in front of him. He just wanted to hear it from the mouth of Vadim since the grey falcon griffon had gone there himself one day prior. Same principle as Delacroix’s visit at the IRA’s place: give the basic briefing and evaluate their colony.

“Well Captain… it ain’t much, and I’m being polite. There’s like… fifteen of them, tops. All led by that unicorn constable, Codsworth.”

“Species?”

“Mostly unicorns and hedgefogs. No dragons, unlike the IRA, and they have a lone centaur and an Earth Pony.”

“Earth Pony?”

“American tourist. Blue collar guy. Called himself Lucas and asked about passage to...” Vadim tapped a talon against his beak. “Philadelphia I think, though he said he could manage if we just got him across the Atlantic.”

“That’s two of them then.” Dilip commented. “Shouldn’t pose too much trouble, and we can get some extra manpower for the duration of the crossing from them.”

“Pragmatic I guess.” Vadim shrugged with his wings. “The entire group in Carrickfergus is pretty low on morale, and they have a family of four that seems rather worried about their fate. Codsworth puts most of their woes down to the IRA guys and most of their group seems to eat it up because of how precarious their situation is.”

“Precarious?” Dilip set down his teacup and leaned forward. “Explain.”

“It’s a bad colony. The location is not terrible, it’s got potential, but they lack the technical know-how to actually improve upon it and develop the infrastructure.

They occupy two buildings: the Norman fort near the marina on the shore side of the highway, and some kind of inn/pub on the hinterland side. The fort has good defensive potential and might protect them from most monsters even though they don’t have weapons except for the cop’s pistol, but it’s an old fort and requires some serious work to be lived in. That’s why they use the inn, and they’ve barely been able to plug in portable generators for electricity.”

“That bad uh...”

“Yes, that bad.” Vadim confirmed. “They’re mostly office workers with the exception of the American. Maybe one is a journalist I think? All in all, they’d need more lessons than just the starter edition on biology and anatomy I gave yesterday if they want to survive at all.”

“And you think their colony has potential?”

“I asked a few questions without prying too much and I did a quick survey while I was in the air. Their centaur could feed them if he had a couple gardens in the castle, or even on the lawns outside of it. As for the castle itself, you could refurbish it well enough to host a good fifty survivors comfortably. Then again, that’d require a fair deal of elbow grease to install all the plumbing and electricity.

As for what they could do and provide from Carrickfergus, there are a couple strategic points in the area. The obvious one is the power plant, which they could keep running even after we leave. If it stays active, that would make the life of survivors in the entirety of Northern Ireland a whole lot easier, as well as provide a point where we could regularly sell fuel and coal. That being said, the terminal at the power plant isn’t deep enough for us, so we’d have to use Rhine’s barges, or land a hovercraft via the boat ramp in the marina. No going in there with the big ships.”

“There is more isn’t it?” Dilip asked when Vadim paused to take a breath.

“Yes Captain.” The Ukrainian nodded firmly. “Two things at least. The lesser one is a small fleet of fishing boats, all of them less than twenty meters in length. Doesn’t do much, but they’re meant to retrieve shellfish from the bay. There’s like… twenty kilometres of shellfish beds hidden underneath the surface, plus any fish they could get if they lay down their nets properly. Might be enough to make up an export.

And the last thing is probably just as important as the power plant, though I doubt it would be enough to affect the whole region. They have a reservoir and a water treatment plant.

I think that as long as the population in the vicinity of Belfast stays low, that might be enough to provide colonies with running water and waste treatment. And if the number of survivors starts to exceed the threshold, then there’s another water treatment plant at the foot of Cave Hill that can be reactivated as well.”

“That’s excellent, I see you did your homework on the place. Good.” Dilip commented approvingly.

“Sir?” Vadim added, this time a bit more hesitantly.

“Yes?”

“It’s about the uh… ‘Switzerland clause’. I know we said we wanted to remain neutral, but maybe if we play our cards right we can get them to reach a status-quo and cohabit?”

Dilip looked at the griffon across from him, one paw reaching up to tiredly rub his muzzle.

“Listen… I know it’d be noble and all to intervene and settle matters between them ourselves, but unless it becomes life-threatening for either party, then we shouldn’t meddle. It is not our right to settle this feud, and it would be far too risky for us to do so. Better men have tried, and I will not risk our safety if intervening means we get attacked.”

“But don’t you have any opinion on the matter?”

“I do. I most certainly do.” The Indian admitted. “I think it’d be unfair from me as an Indian to say a country should not get full independence from the British and would probably have been quite pissed if London decided to keep Mumbai when independence was signed. That is my opinion. However, I don’t believe that warrants me intervening. Understood?”

“Yes sir. I… I may have told them about using their assets as a bargaining chip though.”

“Vadim...” The Diamond Dog growled lowly.

“It’s not about politics!” The Ukrainian quickly defended himself, one claw half-raised. “They barely have any weapons to defend themselves, so I just told them they should get… something to barter to convince the IRA to give them guns. It’s not like they’d find any otherwise.”

“Alright… that’s... fair enough.” Dilip deflated.

“Speaking of guns, are we going to retrieve any for Fugro’s crew, sir?”

“Yes, but not in Belfast, and not by land.” He replied. “I want to try and keep looting in Belfast to a minimum to avoid alienating the locals. The harbour is fine, but there’ll be no art retrieval from Belfast. And we can’t get the guns that are supposedly at the police station since they’d notice too.”

“What then?”

“I talked to Captain Gerig about this.” He explained. “The plan is to send out some trawlers, so they’ll think the expedition is just regular fishing...”

Which they still sucked at.

“Two of them. One is a diversion and actually goes fishing, the other heads to Londonderry. The town has… a heated reputation, to put it mildly. Getting weapons from there shouldn’t pose too much trouble, and we might even get some art pieces out of it with a bit of luck. I’ll put a list up later for volunteers.”

“Anything I should know?”

“Besides the fact that you won’t go?” Dilip quirked an eyebrow.

“Sir...”

“I’m sorry Vadim, but I don’t want my medic off to the other side of the island without a good reason. Your expertise is needed here, and Derry’s expedition can settle with nurse-level medical backup.”

“Fine.” The griffon sighed, sagging in his chair. “Will that be all Captain?”

“You may tell Micha I’ll need her to accompany Aleksei on a recce in the countryside. She can hunt, right?”

Vadim nodded.

“Good, we might actually get some fresh meat for once.” He crossed his arms. “But since I don’t want to be too cruel against you, tell her that if she find good hunting spots on her recce, then she can bring you along for the actual hunt as long as it’s within two hours of the docks. Fair deal?”

“More than fair enough sir!” His subordinate exclaimed, perking up at the prospect of going hunting with his mate.

“Alright. Dismissed.”

Around Fugro’s now dry underside, the noise of machinery was near constant. Scaffolding hugged her damaged flanks, wrapping around them tightly to allow various teams of sailors access to the warped hull plates and crumpled girders that surrounded the impact zone.

Danny was among them, obviously. As one of Amandine’s welders, she was bound to be roped up in the repair process, even though they had yet to move on to the welding part. No, that would have to wait a couple days at least, because right now she had a plasma torch in her talons, a welding mask on her head, and a long list of damaged components that needed to be cut away before the end of the day.

The scene around the Filipino was something worthy of a South Indian breaking yard: the air hissed with the sound of plasma cutters, sparks and specks of molten metal flew all around, soon followed by loud clangs every time a damaged beam or plate fell to the bottom of the graving dock. A burnt scent hung heavily in the air, mixing with the pungent stench of the low tide rolling in from the bay outside the harbour.

On the plus side, Fugro’s bosun was overseeing the repairs as foreman, and the stern gargoyle had allowed them to have some music on in the form of a radio tuned in to Sandra’s broadcast. In Danny’s mind, the playlist wasn’t the best, but it sure beat working in silence and soon enough the golden parakeet found herself humming along to the tune of Toto’s Africa.

The process was pretty simple: some of Fugro’s Engineers had already marked precisely where they were supposed to cut the plates and beams. The only extra bit of thinking she had to do with that was making sure she cut them down to size a bit before separating them from the hull, just so she didn’t accidentally let loose twenty tons of steel to fall at the base of the scaffolding she was working on.

That would have been a bad idea.

As far as she knew, the main reason why they were so stringent on them separating the beams and plates in those exact locations was so that the guys in the machining shop would be able to tailor the required hull plates going by the plans instead of having to manually measure them at the graving dock. Just a bit of a time saver. There was a second reason too, and that was that they needed to clear the way for the removal of some propulsion systems.

Remove the grills protecting the stern thrusters to replace the bent props. Cut open a larger hole in the side so the sphinxes would be able to pull out the damaged engine. Two of the welders were also busy removing the propeller nozzle and rudder on the port side so they’d be able to remove the damaged shaft.

All in all, delicate work that required foresight unless they wanted to be flattened by falling multi-ton marine components.

But that was up to the Engineers to figure out. She was busy as is with her own work. One of the disadvantages she had to work with was that her transformation wasn’t all positives. Bedroom stuff sure was awesome, but she had been forced to revise her approach towards work. Switching gender and turning into a species that, while fast, was physically weaker than humans, was actually rather inconvenient when you were supposed to do manual labour. The agility boost was a boon, particularly considering she was now casually hanging upside down from the scaffolding and holding herself with the prehensile talons that made up her feet, but she couldn’t just push through with raw strength anymore. Had to be a bit more clever than that.

Feathers were also… sometimes problematic, at least as far as she was concerned as a welder. What would you know, she’d had a few incidents where her plumage almost caught fire because she hadn’t paid attention. In all cases, that was owed to the longer feathers she had on her head and tail.

That problem was quickly solved once it annoyed her so much she decided to take action though. The ‘hair/crest’ feathers were tamed just by her wearing a bandanna and tucking them under her coveralls, and the tail feathers only required her to add a rear flap to her welding apron.

The lack of elegance in the solution irked her parrot instincts to no end, but nothing she couldn’t live with.

“Watch out downstairs!” She warned as the last part of the beam she was cutting down came loose.

The two-meter-long H-beam fell down, kicking up a bit of spray when it impacted a small puddle that had formed in a depression of the concrete. Danny turned her head down (or up rather) at the area she was busy with. The hole in the hull was now clear enough that she could see Fugro’s port engine in all its damaged and waterlogged glory.

Whelp, that’s her sector done for. Making sure her plasma cutter was secure, she quickly turned her arms into wings in a flash and let herself fall down to the bottom of the graving dock.

A tent had been set up a few ways away from the ship to shelter some of their gear. Danny ducked underneath the half-open awning and grabbed a fresh cup of coffee from a jug Rahul had brought before moving further inside to take a look at the plans. It wasn’t anything complicated, just a section-by-section drawing they used to divide work.

“That’s section… uh… section four completed.” She mumbled in Tagalog, marking itwith a notchon the drawing before adding her name to another section they had yet to finish.

Several sections had already been marked off as completed as well, meaning that if her watch was to be trusted they were ahead of time. Not a bad thing for her own sake: it meant if the engineering folks at the machining shop didn’t keep up, then she’d have some downtime for as long as it took them to craft the first hull plates…

Nah, that was too much of a luxury. With her luck she’d be pulled into guard duty or even have to go give flight lessons to the locals. And being anywhere closer to the IRA than necessary wasn’t exactly on her bucket list.

The radio she was listening to chose that moment to switch from the regular playlist to Sandra’s daily podcast.

“Hello world, DJ Jensen here with WSU radio. Hope you’re having a fine day because I’ve been getting a couple messages from you lot I feel I should talk about.” She heard their Danish radio operator say.

Well, she could spare a couple minutes to listen.

“Remember that thing I talked about with Miss Naomi? The Texan sphinx that’s stuck in Africa with a pride of lions. We mentioned a couple things about lions being more intelligent than they used to. Well, I’ve received a couple reports that other species have had similar intelligence boosts. So where do I start...” She trailed off.

“I think we should start with Gunnar.” Another female voice said on the radio.

“Oh of course, I keep forgetting. Thanks.” Sandra said, audibly shaking her head. “By the way dear listeners, lemme present you my friend Lekan. She’s from another ship so she won’t always be there, but I think she’s got a wonderful voice for radio and having a bit of a back and forth is better than me rambling alone for hours.”

“Hi.” The Liberian Abyssinian timidly said. “I promise I’ll watch my accent.”

“Do keep it dear, I think it’s lovely!”

Danny rolled her eyes.

“So, starting off with Gunnar. Quick context: he’s a Norse farmer, a reindeer, living really far North near a convergence point. Our Chief Officer crossed path with him on an expedition.” Sandra explained.

“What he reports...” Lekan continued. “Is that a herd of reindeer – not the intelligent magic ones that is, just your regular caribou- came to his farm. Usually he says they leave after a while because of hunters, but now they’re sticking around apparently. And they’re not behaving as they used to. And so do his farm animals for that matter, dog included.”

“Yeah, it’s like the magic in the air makes animals more intelligent as long as they’re around hum- former humans I mean.” Sandra mused.

Frankly, what Danny was curious to know was what kind of unspeakable things the farmer had done to the female reindeers in the herd. Lone guy presented with a relatively similar creature? Someone call Animal Protection.

“Now I don’t say they’re just as clever as you and me, but if something like a reindeer suddenly jumps to crow or parrot on the intelligence ladder, then that’s probably something you should take note of. I’m keeping an exchange of messages between us and Naomi in Africa ‘cause she probably can evaluate that better than us, being a vet, and she claims it only takes her a couple days to teach stuff to her lions. Neat stuff I say.” She added.

“We have one more report that’s not from contacts we already know about too.” Lekan spoke up in turn. “I think some of you may be surprised, but this time it came from the US. Montana to be precise. Sandra, you spoke with him, mind telling them then?”

“He didn’t tell us much about himself actually. Just called himself DJ Grizzly. But he told us a lot of stuff about what’s going on his side of the Atlantic.”

“By which she means the US.” Lekan quipped.

“Yes, of course I’m talking about the US. The guy’s in Montana, it’s not like he’ll know about what’s going on south of Mexico.” Sandra deadpanned. “Anyway, if anyone listening is interested, there’s a colony in Montana. ‘bout… sixty survivors, give or take. They don’t want me to give away their exact location, so they told me to say that: if you’re interested, head for Flathead Lake in Montana and tune in on 98.5FM, then you’ll have a procedure. Be warned though: they’re mostly ponies, so don’t expect to eat much meat if you join them.

As for our ‘animal’ subject, they told me about this one thing. Their looting parties came across an… oddity, of sorts, on the eastern shore of the lake. A sphinx, probably one of these survivalist nutjobs, but the guy was moving around with a family of freakin’ mountain lions like they were dogs. I know sphinxes get along with lions, but mountain lions?”

“Don’t these things claw your face off at the first chance?”

“I thought they did! Jeg mener… seriøst?” The batpony mumbled.

“English Sandra.”

“Sorry, my B” She corrected herself. “So yeah, nutty survivalist lives with a pack of cougars, and apparently he’s very territorial. Watch out for that if you go there and come in from the east. Though apparently, folks coming in from the East is unlikely going by what they told us.”

“Yeah, flow’s going the other direction after what happened to the West Coast.” Lekan said. “I don’t know, maybe they’re exaggerating and we shouldn’t take it at face value, but they claim there are some massive fires ravaging the West Coast all the way from California to Washington-”

“Hold on, isn’t Washington their capital? I thought it was on the East coast.” Sandra cut her off.

“You’re mixing up the city and the state.”

“Oh… nevermind then. Sorry Americans, I guess I’ll have to study your geography next time.” The Dane sheepishly apologized.

“Back to the fires...” Lekan resumed after a short pause. “There’s a small stream of survivors fleeing the coast to escape the carnage. Not many since there aren’t even that many people on Earth at the moment to begin with, but by current standards it’s significant.”

“Now, it’s just a theory I shared with DJ Grizzly when he said he had a lot of peeps headed his way, but maybe because there’s like… desert directly east of California, that would push survivors to go north where it’s easier to survive instead. Just a theory though, never been there.”

“All in all we’ll just leave one last piece of advice before calling it a day with that podcast: avoid California. It’s on fire.” Lekan said.

“As my friend said.” Sandra opined. “Tune in next time for a podcast on weapon safety with our bosun Artyom as guest. Up next: Eye of the Tiger, from Survivor.”

There was a small beep, and the Danish batpony’s accented voice was replaced by the first notes of the legendary song. Danny immediately started bobbing her head to the tune before setting down her now empty coffee cup.

Back to work.

“Why aren’t we teleporting again?” Rockhoof asked before he pulled out his shovel.

“What? Big stallion like you can’t take a bit of a walk without getting winded? Didn’t know age got to you that bad yet, Rock.” Star snarked.

The large stallion and the ghost wizard were currently following a game trail in the middle of the woods to reach the two lost lieutenants. It was narrow, winding between the thick gnarly tree trunks along the side of a hill with a large amount of bushes in the way. While they didn’t pose trouble for his ghost friend (who could seemingly control when he touched stuff and when he didn’t), Rockhoof was forced to slow down and use his shovel to clear out the obstacles.

“You’re dod-ving the quef-tion.” Rock grunted around the handle of his shovel.

Slash the fronds, dig the blade under the roots, toss the bush aside, repeat. Ad nauseum.

“If I want to figure out the intricacies of magic and how they interact, I need to get a look at it. Can’t do that if I teleport around all the time.”

Rockhoof spat off to the side of the trail before wiping the handle of his shovel on his fetlock, putting it back in place on his harness.

“Oh poor you. Knowing how you like popping around that must be downright crippling.” He rolled his eyes.

“I’ll admit, part of the reason I do that so much is because it startles ponies.” The mage admitted.

“Don’t we all know...”

“Oh shush, Luna and Cadence already chastised Equestrian-me about it this morning in Canterlot. No need to repeat it twice.”

“Considering how you’re technically two ponies rolled up in one, I’ll say that’s probably necessary to get through that skull of yours. How is Canterlot by the way?”

“Boring as ever. If it weren’t for the library I’d rather avoid the city entirely.”

“Too many nobles?”

“And self-important academics that want my endorsement over stuff that’s mostly political.” His friend shuddered. “Faust almighty is that infuriating.”

“What about...”

“Flash?” Starswirl guessed. “Moved off to Cloudsdale as soon as we were back. Last I met him he was moping in a bar and said something about training the next batch of hopeless junior officers.”

“Oh… good for him I guess… could you tell him we’re alright next time your other body meets him in Equestria? I know that’ll do him some good.”

“Of course.” Starswirl nodded.

They kept following the trail along the hillside. Broceliande’s power still was as palpable as ever in that area of the woods, though at least it wasn’t only the gnarly old oaks that occupied the space. Taller but thinner beech trees rose up in the gaps left open by the oaks, as well as a couple odd chestnut trees with their bark so dark it was almost black save for the white lichen that covered their roots.

Ignoring the fact a lot of the plants were faintly glowing from sheer magic despite the daylight, the sight was fairly pleasant. Him removing bushes from the trail had made the earthy smell of soil rise up in the air, the smell of fertile decomposing leaves that brought pleasant memories to mind.

Even though they were rather deep in the woods, sunlight still pierced through the canopy casting shadow figures down on the ground, the pictures ever changing thanks to the breeze that shook the branches above them, accompanied by the soft music of the rustling leaves and the groaning branches that supported a chorus of birds of all sorts.

Not as satisfying to him as a breeze over a freshly ploughed field, but not far behind.

“Rock?”

“Hmm?” The stallion’s ears swivelled towards his ghostly friend in mild curiosity.

“You may want to pick up the pace.”

“They’re in trouble aren’t they?” He groaned. “Monster?”

“Of the local sort. Equestrian monsters can’t be summoned here thanks to the wards.”

“Wait, wards? Star...”

“That’s Morgane’s work, not mine.” The mage interjected as he switched to Merlin-form. “They’re a few minutes down the path that w-”

Rockhoof didn’t even wait for his friend to finish his sentence before he bolted galloping in the direction he had pointed. Thorns and ferns whipped his sides as he barrelled through, all previous care got about the obstacles set aside.

He soon found the two lost returnees when the ground dipped down into a hollow of sorts with a brook at the bottom. The monster had come right out of it and it was… a tiny sea serpent? No, not a sea serpent. It was still big, at three to four ponies in length, but nowhere near as big as its ocean-dwelling lookalike. Its head very much resembled that of a quarray eel, except with silvery scales and no fins or frills.

Oh, and it had its tail coiled around the barrel of a purple pegasus mare.

Rockhoof didn’t think, he just reacted. The powerful muscles in his hind legs coiled before unleashing their Earth Pony strength in one mighty leap that had times and again spelled the doom of his enemies, his combat shovel going from harness to mouth in one practised motion.

The… serpent didn’t even have time to spot the massive blue blur of a stallion bearing down on it. In a massive spray of blood and gore, Rock’s shovel found its mark at the base of its head, the sharpened blade separating it from the rest of the body before it landed on the bed of decomposing leaves with a soft thud, a confused look on its features showing it never understood what it was that ended its monstrous life.

The rest of the body fell limply, freeing the pegasus mare from its coils before slipping back in the brook it had come from, the gaping wound in its neck staining the water red.

Rockhoof didn’t address it more than a passing glance, instead turning around to appraise the two ponies he had just rescued.

One was a wiry unicorn stallion with bronze fur and a short blonde mane. He was wearing a woodland camouflaged poncho that hid the mark on his flank, paired with a small olive green backpack covered in webbing straps. He carried himself with the same falsely confident and cocky air he had seen on junior officers in the past, a confidence that didn’t fit how frazzled he looked from the altercation. The little blue-white-red flag on his backpack marked him as a local.

His companion was worse off, the mare’s teeth chattered from all the adrenaline in her bloodstream. She was relatively tall for a pegasus mare, with shaggy purple fur and a mid-length ivory mane. She was sprawled out right where she had landed with a haggard look on her muzzle that made her hazelnut eyes all the more noticeable.

Oddly enough considering the two were supposed to be military, she wasn’t wearing the same camouflage as her comrade. She was wearing a poncho/backpack combo as well, except that her camouflage was far brighter than that of the stallion (and of dubious quality, whoever thought you could hide wearing that must have been a grade A idiot), and the flag on the backpack didn’t match.

What he could identify was the little marking on the side of her backpack that read out as ‘US Army’.

“Greetings, my name is Rockhoof. St- I mean, Merlin sent me to help you.” He explained.

The two junior officers just gaped, eyes switching back and forth between the dead serpent, his bloody shovel, and himself.

Oh wait right, wrong language.

“Autant pour moi. Vous voulez que je me répète en français?”He tried again.

Author's Notes:

How to piss off a colony 101: Loot the local museums to sell the art to a shady organisation. Best to avoid that kind of tactics with a group like the IRA in town.

Anyway, not much to say this week. Hope you didn't mind me taking the piss out of Second Lieutenants (and the UCP camo). Used to be navy before I transitioned to merchant, gotta keep that rivalry going no matter the country.