Blue was a veritable mine of information. His memory of his own life may have damaged, but what he knew about the world he was from had Lyra completely enthralled. Oh, how she wished she had one of those new dictaphones with her! Some of the archaeologists used them, but they were so expensive! Not only that but the magical batteries were hard to come by too, with the end result that she still relied entirely on paper, pen, and her own sharp memory for record keeping. Despite her excitement at Blue’s incredible description of life in the human world, she couldn’t escape the lurking fear that nopony other than her was ever going to hear any of this. Celandine no doubt had heard all about it of course, but if they never managed to get back to Equestria then all of this would… Bah! It wasn’t worth thinking about. She, like Blue, would live in the moment and take this for what it was. After all, she’d literally dreamed of an opportunity like this, and as for Hidden Path’s book? Ha! The guy was like a foal trying to understand algebra! This was it. This was the real thing! Planes, cars, trains, ships, movie stars, different cultures, races, and so, so much more! It was hard to take it all in. What really struck her was how similar so much of it was, and yet at the same time extraordinarily alien. Wars seemed to be almost a way of life to the humans, not that they were unknown to equestrians of course, but the bipedal creatures appeared to almost relish them. Blue himself had been anxious to ‘join up’ as he called up so he could fight other humans in… what were they again? Flying machines? He had a name for them… Yes, the ‘Aeroplanes’ as he’d called them. He’d used a lot of jargon unfortunately, but to Lyra’s relief he usually corrected himself before moving on. As for ‘Blue the man’, all he could recall about himself was that he’d snuck onto one of the aircraft as they’d had a space free for a crew ‘man’. The original one had been sick or something. From Lyra could make out, Blue wasn’t supposed to be there, however the crew had let him aboard to gain some experience. Well, he’d certainly got that alright. The irony of the whole situation was that the one guy who shouldn’t have been there was the only one who had survived, and barely at that. Lyra certainly had to admire Celandine’s medical skill for patching up Blue the way she had. The wound may have long healed, but the long white stripe in his hair gave clear testament as to the severity of his injury. Blue was truly lucky to be alive.

Lyra suddenly hiccuped and looked down at her glass. Goddess, how much had she drunk?! “Sorry!” she said, feeling a little embarrassed. “I hadn’t noticed how much I’ve been drinking.”

Blue waved away her concerns, “No need to apologise when you’re with friends,” he said kindly. “I’ve enjoyed your company. Besides, I think-”

Both of them froze as a red light on the wall blinked on unexpectedly. Blue turned to stare at it and his expression immediately darkened, so much so that it made Lyra’s previously buoyant mood feel like it had just crashed onto the rocks like one the stricken ships. To her mounting horror the kindly Blue now looked like a completely different person. He looked… frightening. Those once gentle brown eyes turned cold and hard in a trice, his face reminding her of the picture of the human on the magazine cover as the red light bathed them both in its blood red glare. Lyra shivered.

“What is it?” she whispered.

Blue paused, but only for a moment. “Trouble,” he said abruptly. With an incredible display of speed, the man dashed behind one of the tables and took out a weapon similar to the one Lyra had seen Celandine carrying. What was going on here? Was-

There was a loud boom from somewhere down below, the sound muffled by distance and thick metal, yet unmistakable even so. This was quickly followed by a blood curdling scream that was all too familiar. Blue didn’t hesitate. In a flash he was at the door, “Stay here and shut the door!” he called over his shoulder. “For god’s sake don’t open it for anyone, you understand?”

“Y- Yes!” Lyra gabbled. “I under-” But Blue was already gone, haring off down the metal stairs. “-stand...” Lyra stared at the open door. “What the hell?” She shook her head in befuddlement. One minute they were having a conversation, and a very enjoyable one for that matter, and the next minute...” Another loud bang from below. Shouting. A rattle of rapid reports and another scream. Blue was yelling something, but there were other shouts. Other voices. Suddenly Lyra felt the hairs stand on her back stand up and she grabbed the door with her hooves, slamming it shut. The lever was next, pulled into place which in turn put large bolts into their respective slots around the frame. It may have made her safe, safer than she would have been out there, but now her heart was beating ten to the dozen. Sweat broke out on her brow, her mouth going horrible dry. The alcohol may have been masking some of her emotions of course, but nowhere near enough for this madness. What was she going to do?! Quickly she began to search the room, looking for something she could use as a weapon, something that could help protect her if those, whatever they were, got in here. Oh goddesses, was it the zeks? Maybe the pegasi? Yes, yes that was the most likely explanation. The young stallion had come to his senses and told the others about her and they’d put two and two together. Sure, they’d spoken to Celandine already, but there’s always somepony who isn’t satisfied and wants to- Wait, was it their hoof prints? Oh, no! There must have been two sets of hoofprints on…

It had gone quiet.

Lyra took a deep breath. Her magic was tingling, alerting her to something. Or some pony. Hang on, hadn’t Celandine said there were no unicorns on the island? After all, that was what all that bloody ‘tainted’ rubbish had been about, right? But then something was there, just outside the door. Her horn was itching now, a sure sign of magic being used nearby. She moved closer, pressing her ear up against the cold metal. If she closed her eyes she could swear she could hear breathing.

“Blue?” she whispered. “Blue, is that you?”

Silence.

Lyra was just about to walk away when she heard, “Lyra?” It wasn’t Blue, that was damned sure, but it was male alright – a vaguely familiar male voice which had a distinctive Canterlot accent. It couldn’t be…? But it sounded just like him!

“Who’s there?” Lyra said quietly.

There was a short delay before, “It’s me, Parchment. We were working on the dig together, remember?”

Gods, how could she not?! Lyra automatically lifted her hoof to the door mechanism and hesitated. “Parchment? Wait, how do I know it’s really you?”

Another pause. “You went off to play in a gig somewhere and I carried on working on the portal whilst the others knocked off for the evening,” the voice replied. “I… I activated the portal. I don’t know whether it was something I did or it was triggered by something else, I don’t know for certain, but when I touched the silver light it grabbed me, sucking me inside.” He took a moment, probably for breath, “The next thing I knew I was thrown out into this forest and chased by monsters.”

Lyra swallowed. Her mouth had gone horribly dry. “And what happened then?” she breathed.

“A group of pegasi caught me,” Parchment said in his matter-of-fact manner. “They took me to a walled town they call the-”

“-citadel,” Lyra finished. “And I expect they just let you out, did they?”

Parchment’s voice sounded muffled through the door, but was still clear enough, “No.”

“No?” Now Lyra really was surprised.

“Lyra, the ponies on this island, the humans too, they’re not what you think they are.” Parchment paused as if gathering his thoughts, “They’re prisoners. All of them.”

“What? Prisoners?” Lyra shook her head. Hadn’t Blue and Celandine said something about the humans here being prisoners? Well, they had been prisoners before arriving on the island, sure, but the ponies? “What the hell are you talking about?” she asked.

Parchment’s voice rose an octave, “Lyra, please, you don’t understand.”

“You’re bloody well right there, buddy boy!” Lyra snorted. “You’d better start telling me what the buck’s going on or I’m keeping this door shut ‘til doomsday!”

Parchment cleared his throat. He sounded a little stressed, but considering what madness was going on out there she’d have been even more surprised if he wasn’t. “The ponies in the village are violent criminals who are too dangerous to keep in Equestria,” he explained hurriedly. “The princesses use this island as a place to exile those who can’t be released back into society to keep them from harming innocents.”

“You can’t be serious!” Lyra balked. “They wouldn’t do that! It would be a national scandal!”

“It would be,” Parchment explained, “if anypony knew about it. The princesses use a private portal in the dungeons below the palace to send exiles here. It’s been going on for hundreds of years, maybe more. The portal you and I came through was a relic, one which they’d thought destroyed with the destruction of Galeus’s tower.”

Lyra shook her head in amazement, “How the hell do you know all this? And how are you here too? These guys kill unicorns, Parchment! They tried to kill me!”

There was a moments delay before Parchment explained. “It’s too much to tell you all in one go,” he said sounding a little desperate. “The humans at the citadel, the one the locals call ‘zeks’, were dragged here through a rogue magical portal which has been caused by a side effect of the princesses’ portal. It drags anything nearby through it onto the island.” Well, that certainly sounded reasonable. “The humans have been working with the unicorns to try and open a portal home.”

“Hang on a minute,” Lyra’s mind was reeling. “What do you mean, ‘working with unicorns’? The villagers surrender their children to-”

“Because if they stayed in the village they’d become infected with the sickness which is endemic on this island!” Parchment all but shouted. “If the humans or seekers don’t rescue them, isolating them from the rest of the equine population, the sickness would attack their magic and can kill them. What should they do, Lyra? Leave them there to die?”

“They take them from their parents, Parchment!” the green mare countered. “How can than that be right, eh?”

Parchment rounded on her, “What in Equestria are you going on about? The parents do it voluntarily to save their lives!”

“They… They what?” Lyra couldn’t get her head around this. Celandine hadn’t said anything about this! What Parchment was saying made sense, but… “How do I know you’re not out there with a gun to your head and all of this is just made up bullshit?” she reasoned. “Celandine, ‘Six’ I mean,” she corrected herself quickly, “told me that-”

“Six is an outcast,” Parchment said suddenly. “She killed her own child, a unicorn child, rather than hoof him over to the citadel. Dear Celestia, Lyra, you want to believe somepony like that? Has she got inside your head that much? And another thing, do you think that anypony in their right mind would voluntarily live out here in these… these rotting hulks?” Lyra could all but hear him shaking his head in disbelief. “Lyra, look, you can stay here if you want, but please understand that there’s a place at the citadel for you if you want to go there. Just... don’t take too long to make your mind up. If you don’t get help soon the sickness will get you, and if you aren’t treated properly...” He paused, “You’ll be dead inside a week.”

Dead? A flush of cold ran through Lyra from muzzle to tail as Parchment’s words hit home. He had said ‘Dead’, right? Like, really, really dead? Dead as the poor sod on the beach? Lyra shivered. What Parchment was saying sounding so plausible, frighteningly so to be honest, especially when you considered what he’d said about the prisoners and the princesses using the island as a place to dump exiles. Equestria had a very low crime rate, and what there was was usually confined to the cities where you almost expected that sort of thing to go on. But… Blue had said not to open the door, and Celandine… Celandine did seem… well, she seemed nuts if she had to give a fair opinion on the yellow mare’s mental state. The way she waved that gun around was frightening to say the least, not to mention that she’d nearly shot her with the bloody thing too! And she hadn’t done anything either! Right then, that was it…

She pulled on the handle. The lock clanked back into place, the door swinging open slightly. Beyond it, bathed in the light from the electric bulbs, stood the purple coated stallion himself. Barely more than a colt, Parchment was every inch the typical Canterlot teenager: confident, a little too cocky for his own good, and bearing the kind of youthful good looks that made her horribly jealous.

True to his word, he was alone.

“So what’s the plan?” Lyra asked. “You want me to come with you now?”

Parchment shook his head, “No. The ponies at the citadel want you to come to them of your own free will, Lyra. If you decide to come and help us work on the portal, head south out of the wrecks to the beach at dawn. Follow the path, and when you round the headland there’ll be a sky carriage waiting.”

“What if one of the villagers comes along?” Lyra asked, remembering Celandine’s reaction when she’d first encountered her.

“They won’t,” Parchment replied. “We’ve arranged for a fireworks display tonight, along with plenty of booze to keep them entertained. A little gift from the citadel for their ‘loyalty’.”

“That’s very forward thinking of you,” Lyra said a little sceptically. “Expecting me to be a good little lamb and follow the flock are you?”

Parchment chuckled, “No, not really. I know we don’t know one another very well, but I know you’re a damned good archaeologist and that you have a logical mind.” He nodded to himself, “You’re exactly the kind of pony we need to help us all get home - Me, you, the humans, and the other ponies too.”

“How can we send the everypony home?” Lyra asked. “If they’re exiles like you said, then they’ll just get arrested again. The humans are another matter all together. They’re not even from this world, Parchment. I think crossing world is a bit beyond even a working portal, don’t you?”

“Which is why we’re creating is a ‘Master Portal’,” Parchment said as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “We can go anywhere, Lyra.” His eyes sparkled in the artificial light, “Home to my family, or yes, even to another world. Can you imagine that? Ha! You could even go to the human world yourself if you wanted to.”

Lyra’s eyes must have been as wide as saucers, “I… I’ll have to tell-”

“Don’t,” Parchment said solemnly. “Six wouldn’t understand. And from what I’ve heard about her, you’d be putting yourself in serious danger. Still, it’s up to you. You’re a grown mare, so the decision is yours.” He peered behind himself briefly, “I’ll see you soon.”

And with that, Parchment vanished up the stairs and once more the ship fell silent. At least until there was a loud clang downstairs and Blue, red faced and panting, came charging into the room. Without pause he flung open a cupboard, pulled out some sort of pack and swung it up onto his back. “Lyra, come on. Follow me and don’t tarry.”

Confused, Lyra complied. Blue reached behind her and slammed the door shut, locked it, and then headed off down into the depths. Lyra followed hot on his heels, “What’s happening? Blue?”

Blue still held his weapon, and had a look about him that spoke of an expectation of imminent attack. “Chocks,” he said simply. “I don’t know how, but several of them got in here and attacked Celly.”

“Dear Celestia!” Lyra nickered. “Is she alright? She hasn’t been hurt has she?”

Blue kept moving, his gun ready and his eyes constantly alert for any signs of danger, “She took a nasty bite to the neck, but she’s going to be alright. Thank god she had her shotgun or she’d have been...” He tailed off. “Do you know how to use a gun?”

“A gun?” Lyra shook her head, “No.” “But I can form a shield with my magic if we need it,” she added quickly.

Blue grimaced. “We may just need it,” he muttered ominously.

The stairway felt like it went on forever, with every step she took sounding like a marching band on its way to gate crash a party in Hades. Lyra could tell Blue was irritated by the noise her hooves were making on the cold metal, but it wasn’t like she had any choice in the matter. She’d come through the portal wearing little more than her day panniers. Slippers had most certainly not been an option at the time. Blue on the other hoof, with his rubber soled boots on his feet, was near silent. He’d had some military training, Lyra knew that from what little Blue could remember of his former life before the crash, but even that small amount made her feel comforted by his presence. Of the chocks however, there was no sign. No sign other than… bodies. There were four of them, and each one lying stock still in the shadowy light.

“I’ll recycle them in the morning,” Blue said stiffly. “May as well make use of them. Furs are always welcome at night.”

Lyra felt a shiver run through her veins once more, her mind focussing on two words in particular: Fur, and Recycle. She now had an unpleasantly graphic image stuck in her mind of what the human had planned for the dead creatures. Although she had no love for the brutal beasts, the thought of them being skinned and… eaten? She shook her head. No, it wasn’t a pleasant image at all. She decided not to mention her discomfort regarding this to Blue. He was a human, and they had their ways of doing things just as her species had theirs. Survival, as she was quickly discovering, could lead you to do things that you would normally balk at. Right now she could only pray that she could escape this awful place before she started to become more… more like… more like what? Like Blue and Celandine? Had Parchment been telling the truth? Was Celandine truly a killer who had murdered her own foal? It didn’t seem possible. Celandine had risked her life to help her, and the two of them had fought side by side to escape the arbalests. Okay, so she was a bitch who bit her head off every time she asked her a question, and her reaction to a song, a song off all things, had been absolutely insane! But what Parchment had said was so plausible, and the guy had been on his own too. If he’d been up to something he could have jumped her when she’d foolishly opened the door. And yet he hadn’t, had he? What’s more he was an Equestrian, not one of these weird islanders with their murderous beliefs and all that ‘Lode’ bullshit. Oh, and how she wanted to go home! Despite her excitement at meeting a human, the pull to escape this place was-

“Can you cover us with your magic while I get the door?”

Lyra came to her senses with a start. She’d let her mind wander and had all but blundered into Blue when he’d stopped by the door to the engine room. “Uh, yeah, sure,” she replied awkwardly.

Concentrating, Lyra raised the familiar golden yellow bubble of magic, neatly enclosing the two of them. This whole situation seemed horribly familiar, although thank Celestia there were no arbalests biting her arse this time. Not only that, but the mere presence of Blue gave her that odd sensation of safety, protection and comfort that she’d noticed not long after they’d first met. He simply hadn’t given off any hint of aggression or threat to her that she may have expected when encountering such a being for the first time. Maybe she was biased though, especially considering her obsession with his species. Not that she’d known all that much before coming here of course, but now… Goddesses, she must be the most knowledgable mare on the subject in the whole of Equestria! Well, with the exception of-

“Celly!” Blue threw open the door and dashed inside. There in the gloomy light, lying silently beneath a blanket, was the still form of the yellow mare. “It’s alright, love, I’m here, hang on now.” The human bent down beside the huddled figure on the floor. With a few swift movements he had the pack he’d collected from the radio room off his back and placed it beside him, all but tipping out the contents in his desperate hurry to help his mare. “Hey, stay with me now, okay?”

Lyra felt utterly helpless. Celandine and Blue, the most unlikely couple she could have ever imagine existing except in her wildest fantasies, now existed in this private little world of their own. Mercifully Celandine was still alive, looking up at the human with such extraordinary love and trust in her eyes it brought a tear to her own. She was hurt, just like Blue had said, the blood drying on her neck around a vicious looking wound.

“I’m...” She licked her lips and winced. “I’m alright, Blue. It’s nothing...”

Blue didn’t seem to think so, “Shush, no talking while I work, okay?”

Celandine complied.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” Lyra asked, moving closer.

“Do you know any magic spells that can heal her?” Blue asked hopefully.

Lyra hung her head, “No.” Suddenly she smiled, “Wait, yes! I… I remember one for reducing bruising.”

Blue looked at her in amazement for a second. “Bruising...” He gave a small sigh, “Well, keep it handy just in case. When I’ve sewn her up it could be useful.”

“Sew her...” Lyra’s eyes moved from Blue to Celandine, to the medical kit in his hand, and the small package of needles and thread he was taking out. “Oh… Oh, Luna...”

Blue glanced at her, “If you’re going to throw up, do it over there will you?”

Lyra shook her head. She couldn’t falter now, not when Blue needed her. She was a mare, gods damn it, not a child! Taking a deep breath she gave herself a hard shake and cleared her throat, “I’m fine, Blue. Is there any hot water I can get to help her?”

The human smiled, “Atagirl, Lyra.” He jerked a thumbed over his shoulder, “Back there behind the bench there’s a small sink with a tap. There should be a clean bowl somewhere abouts too.”

“I’m on it.” Now Lyra had a purpose. Now she was doing something useful. Something to help. If nothing else it took her mind off things she’d rather forget, and allowed her to focus on a useful task that she could throw herself into. The sink was indeed right where Blue had said it was, and there too, the bowl. A quick search revealed soap, a towel, and a few cloths. Some where absolutely filthy and quickly discarded, but after a few moments of effort, the bowl was as clean as it was going to get. Bucket filled, soap, cloth and towels prepped, Lyra plopped herself down on the other side of Celandine.

“Good.” Blue had finished threading the needle and inspecting the wound, “No arteries severed. She’s lucky.” He took out a small paper packet, tore off the top, and sprinkled an acrid smelling yellowish powder over the wound. “Sulfa,” he explained as he worked. “Helps to disinfect the wound.” Next he took the needle and glanced up at Lyra, “You okay?” The green mare nodded as Blue gave her a gentle smile in return. He looked down at Celandine, “This may hurt a bit, love. I can’t give you any pain killers as they’re-”

“For humans, I know.” Celandine closed her eyes, “I doubt it’ll be any worse than it already is.” She glanced up at him, “It’d better be neat though.”

A gentle smile came to Blue’s lips, “You’ll be the belle of the ball, my beautiful flower.”

Lyra sat watching the human work. He was remarkably efficient too, those incredible fingers of his darting this way and that like a school of fish. As for Celandine, she barely flinched once. You had to admit that as crazy as she was, she sure was one tough cookie. Eventually the sewing, mercifully for all concerned, was complete. The yellow mare let out a long sigh, letting Lyra wipe her brow and muzzle with a damp cloth. She may not have made a sound, but the sweat slicking her coat spoke volumes about her ordeal, not least the plethora of empty cartridge cases lying around the place.

Blue sat up and wiped his own forehead, nodding his thanks for the proffered cloth, “You alright there, Lyra? You looked like you were going to pass out.”

“It’s not something I normally deal with,” the green mare replied trying not to sound sarcastic. “Not that any of this is what any sane pony would call ‘normal’.” Blue chuckled quietly, returning to stroking Celandine’s foreleg and planting a gentle kiss on her hoof. Celandine smiled wearily, her eyelids drooping as she slowly drifted off to a well needed sleep. Goddesses, what time was it? It was impossible to tell down here amongst all the machinery, although it must have been sometime within the small hours of the morning. Lyra felt like wind had been not just been taken from her sails, but beaten from them. She was, truth be told, absolutely exhausted.

“You need to get some sleep too,” Blue said gently. “If you stay there, I’ll-”

Lyra’s eyes went wide.

“Lyra?”

Something detached itself from the darkness surrounding one of the enormous engines, appearing in absolute silence behind the human as he rose from beside his injured mare. Shadows darkened, silhouetting the man in the sickly yellow electric light. The black shape coalesced, taking form.

“Lyra, what are you-”

She couldn’t speak. Her mouth was as dry as the beach sand where she’d last seen one of them. Blue saw something reflected in her terrified eyes and was already turning, his hand reaching for his pistol.

Teeth, yellow-white, long and curved like sabres, glinted with undisguised malice… and intent. The gun raised, Blue’s finger tightening on the trigger.

Celandine woke in a start. She saw it now too, her eyes taking in the scene before her. The blanket began to raise. The hammer fell. Blue’s gun fired, but not before the teeth bit home.

The rest happened with horrifying speed. Blue grunted in pain, the pistol falling from his hand. The chock, with a flick of its head, threw him aside with all the effort of a foal tossing away a used toy. It made a dreadful, guttural sound, the teeth now slick with blood… and locked eyes with Lyra. She tried to scream, fear blotting out every other thought. But… Her magic! She needed a shield, a shield, gods damn it all! The thing was already coiling, readying to lunge at her. Power surged into Lyra’s horn but it was too late, and she was far too frightened to concentrate on the spell. It had been different with the bats, they had been smaller and she’d had time… time to… She closed her eyes. Perhaps this was the way it was going to end for her no matter what she did. Perhaps what had happened on the beach… maybe that was meant to have been her filling that beast’s belly. Maybe…

The creature leaped, maw wide. Teeth closed in as Lyra squeezed her eyes shut, expecting the tear of flesh and the pain that would hopefully be over quickly. She screamed. The deafening report of Celandine’s shotgun made her ears howl as loud as her cry of terror. Lyra’s eyes flew open, taking in the sight of the smoking hole in the blanket, the shotgun, and Celandine rising like some vengeful goddess of the deep come to wreak her terrible revenge upon the world above. Her hooves and mouth moved in perfect concert, the shotgun chambering a fresh round, firing, and reloading, firing and reloading. Again and again, shots poured into the chock. The chock, that was already reduced to a pile of crimson gore and torn shreds of fur and flesh.

“Blue...” Celandine, looking half dead herself, crawled over to the still body of her human. “Oh, no...” She swallowed, “No…” Her eyes took in the dreadful injury on Blue’s neck. The blood, thick and red, pouring down the front of his tunic. He didn’t respond. “Hey, come on now, Blue, stop messing me around, I know you’re okay.” Celandine tried a shaking smile, sliding her hoof under his head, “Open your eyes, big guy. Come on, please, you’re not fooling anypony, yeah? Blue… Blue, please...” She squeezed her eyes shut, swallowing, “Please Blue, PLEASE!”

Lyra didn’t know what to say, let alone what to do. Her heart was breaking, and to see this… to see what was happening before her, was beyond anything she’d ever experienced in her life. Gods, up until she’d come through the portal the worst she’d ever had to deal with was pissed off customers, Bon Bon’s bad moods, and a shitty manager. Watching ponies, and now a human, being ripped open by monsters had shown her just how sheltered and pampered her life had really been. She got up and lifted a hoof towards Blue. Maybe he was still alive? If they could staunch the bleeding and-

“GET AWAY FROM HIM, YOU EVIL LITTLE BITCH!”

The sudden barrage of unleashed anger took Lyra by complete surprise, “I was only trying to-”

“I know what you were trying to do!” Celandine screamed. “This is all your fault! If you hadn’t come here, you and your sick, tainted magic...” She faltered, tears tumbling from her eyes as she cradled the limp body of her man. “You wanted to take him from me? Well… Well now you have, haven’t you?” She held him to her chest, her expression one of indescribable torment, “You’ve taken him from me. You’re just like everypony else on this damned island – what you can’t steal, you destroy.”

“Celandine, please,” Lyra tried. “He may-”

“Get out.”

“-still be...” Lyra blinked. “I’m sorry?”

“Get out,” came the pained voice. “Just… Just fuck off will you.”

The green mare couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Obviously Celandine was in a dreadful state of mind, but it was possible Blue was still alive. She couldn’t tell in the gloomy light, but if she moved closer she could-

The shotgun clicked.

“If you don’t get out now,” Celandine rumbled around the firing bit, “I swear by the all the gods and goddesses of this world that I will paint that wall with your brains and feed the rest to the beasts!”

“I… I only wanted to help,” Lyra babbled, backing away. Her eyes fell upon the body of the human. The human whom she had always dreamed of meeting some day, and now… there he was… dead. The dream, once so beautiful, so innocent and childish in its naivety, had turned into a living nightmare.

“I think you’ve done more than enough,” Celandine hissed. “Get. Out.” Her voice dropped to near whisper, “Get out, get out, get out...”

Lyra didn’t wait to see what would happen if she didn’t. With a flick of her tail she snatched up her pack and ran to the door. Flinging it open in her magic, the young mare charged out into the hold of the beached vessel. She never looked back.

Exactly how Lyra made it through the hold, up the stairs to the forecastle, and through the heavy metal door to the outside, will probably remain a mystery forever. Perhaps it is just as well too. No arbalests bothered her, no chocks chased her, nor were there any pegasi. It was as if the very world, or at least the microcosm of the archaic ship, had been all too willing to expel her from its body as if she were no more than an intrusive foreign object. And in a sense she was. She didn’t belong here, and that was all too apparent. It may well be true that the ponies, even the humans, were alien to this island existence, but the ship… the ship had accepted them. They were a part of it, it and this island, as much as the rust that was slowly eating away the hulks on the shore. But Blue… Oh, poor, poor Blue. Taken from another world by a strange force, be it of nature or artifice, only to find himself half dead amongst monsters… and the bodies of his friends. Up until now he had survived with the help of the mare he had fallen in love with. Up until… until Lyra had arrived. Now Blue was dead, his mare badly injured, and Lyra running for all she was worth away from the problems she had brought upon them. If by some incredulous twist of fate the ship had somehow developed a consciousness of its own, then it would be right to expel her. Now all she could do was run. And run she did. Head down, tail streaming out behind her, the landscape flew by in a blur. Cold steel turned to dark skies, rocks, the tang of salt spray tingeing the air. Over the bridge, along the rough stone path scored by years of hooves, and out onto the beach. It was there, worn out, nerves strained to breaking point, Lyra finally collapsed in an exhausted heap onto the sand.

Tears fell, rolling down her cheeks, stinging her eyes. If she hadn’t been so exhausted she would have screamed, and kept on screaming until she’d expelled all the confusion and anger from her soul. Damn that Celandine! Damn that stupid, ignorant, selfish… fool! She was blaming her for what happened to Blue? Who was the one who’d run off in the first place after throwing a tantrum because, what, she’d sung a song? A bloody song for Celestia’s sake! Gods above, was she some sort of neurotic filly who got ‘triggered’ by the slightest damned thing? She knew the crazy fruit cake mare hadn’t been wired up right from the very first minute she’d met her, and it was probably her who’d let those murderous things into the ship in the first place! Oh, she could see it now - ‘That’ll teach them! I’ll make such a fuss, maybe get torn up a bit too, and then all the attention and focus will be on me!’ Lyra had to admit it would have been an insane plan to have done such a thing. It certainly didn’t explain how that many of the chocks would have either been there or knew when she’d have her little hissy fit and throw the door open. But then, they did live on a ship infested with pony eating bats, so why wouldn’t there be a pony eating ‘Chock area’ too? Luna have mercy, this place was insane! Absolutely, bucking insane! She took a breath and coughed out a mouthful of sand.

“Oh, Celestia… Blue. I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry...”

She’d not been able to help him. Or, more to the point, she hadn’t been given a chance to help him. Now that stupid cow was crooning over him, over the corpse of the only human Lyra had ever met. And he’d been so kind to her too! He’d been… Oh, gods… this wasn’t happening…

A bright flash in the sky illuminated the trees along the edge of the forest in a blaze of vivid red light. Sparkles of colour burst forth, raining down in a crisp rattle of crackling sound. A few seconds later another followed, the rocket shooting up from the ground and bursting in a blooming flower of blue light. It was time. Lyra got up, letting out a determined snort. Shaking her coat free of the damp sand, her mane catching the gentle sea breeze, she headed out towards an unknown rendezvous with fate. After all, what other choice did she have?

Lyra didn’t have to walk far. Rounding the headland, the path passed the point where she’d first met Celandine, or ‘Six’, as she had been known then. This time a different pony awaited her. This one was expecting her. She should have known he’d be early.

“I told them you’d come,” Parchment said pleasantly. “You did the right thing, Lyra.”

“You mean I had a choice?” Lyra gave her mane a toss, flicking out a few errant lumps of sand. She glanced over her shoulder in the direction of the ships graveyard, imagining she could see the lights through the darkened portholes. “So, what’s the plan then?”

Parchment smiled, “There’s a sky carriage waiting for us just over there. We’ll take it to the citadel and get you settled in first. After that I’ll introduce you to everypony.”

“Gosh, you think of everything,” Lyra answered with hint of sarcasm in her voice.

The young stallion shrugged, “It pays to think ahead.”

As she followed him along the path, Lyra shook her head, “Like you did with the portal?”

Was that a slight hesitation in his voice? “Discovery,” he began, “requires experimentation.”

“That sounds rather like a quote from somewhere,” Lyra replied awkwardly. “Quotes like that can have disturbing connotations, Parchment.”

They reached the sky carriage where two pegasi were waiting for them. Parchment stopped and turned to face her, “Are you always this obtuse?”

“If by ‘obtuse’ you mean ‘sceptical’, then yes,” Lyra nodded. “You’re asking me to take a lot on trust here, miladdo. Especially,” she bobbed her head towards the silent pegasi, “after these buckers tried to turn me into kebabs the last time I ran into them.”

Parchment rolled his eyes. “Then stay here,” he said simply. “Nopony is forcing you to come.”

The stallion clambered up onto the carriage as if she simply didn’t exist. Dumbfounded, Lyra watched in a haze of confusion as he began to strap himself in. Would he really take off and leave her here? Just like that? It didn’t make any sense! Surely he- What was that?! A crack of something dry breaking, or perhaps ‘snapping’, in the nearby forest sent a shock of fright through her and she all be leaped into the carriage. “Off we go then!” she squeaked. “Let’s not keep your boss waiting, eh?” Parchment said nothing, but reached down to help an anxious Lyra into the seat harness. Moments later the carriage lumbered along the path before launching up into the chill night sky.

If there was one thing to be said about Parchment it was that he was quiet. Very quiet for that matter. The young lads black mane and tail whipped in the wind, his blue eyes as stoic as she recalled from when she’d first met him. Come to think of it, was ‘stoic’ the right word to use? Lyra wasn’t sure. In fact now that she thought about it she wasn’t entirely sure he’d been this reserved when she’d spoken to him on the dig. As a rule she didn’t bother getting to know the volunteers for two very good reasons: Firstly, they tended to stick to their own groups, especially as they were usually teenage college or university students and the like. Secondly, and most notably, because they seldom ever stayed a full season. If the hard work and less than ideal living standards hadn’t put them off, only the most dedicated would even consider coming back for another session grubbing around in the muck. In any case, Parchment’s eyes were certainly expressionless, rather like his face. Good goddesses, was this the type of youth they were they bringing into the world these days? The guy was more automaton than pony, and the way he had taken to this place felt… disturbing. The pegasi said nothing either, and yet they clearly accepted his presence as though it were the most normal thing in the world. It was a direct contrast to the way the two Lyra had met on the beach had reacted when she’d encountered them. It enforced what he’d told her earlier, if she were being charitable, but she couldn’t help but feel worried that she was making a mistake trusting him. Exactly why remained to be seen. She gave her mane a toss, shaking the hairs out of her eyes. Anyway, it wasn’t like she’d had much choice in the matter. Celandine had made her position more than clear, and as for Blue… Oh goddess, poor Blue… She could still see him there, that horrible wound on his neck, the blood glistening like rubies, and that awful, awful wail from his mare as she beheld the wreckage of her mate.

It was something she would never forget.

Thankfully though the flight didn’t take as long as Lyra would have thought. From up here, with the sparsity of any meaningful cloud cover and the sun just starting to rise over the horizon, the extent of what comprised the singular landmass known as ‘the island’ was laid out before her in all its darkened glory. Irregular in shape, the island was densely covered in jungle, the green mass of vegetation comprising at least seventy to eighty percent of the visible area. There, where smoke was rising beside some cleared fields, was what must have been the village Celandine had spoken of. Sure enough it was relatively small in size, and clearly agricultural. Lyra couldn’t see any ponies around in the dim light, although she was quite sure some would have still been milling about after watching the impromptu fireworks display. A display, oddly enough, that had been put on for her benefit. At least, that’s what Parchment had lead her to believe. The young mare shook the thought from her head and looked over the other side of the carriage taking in the sight of the bay, the extraordinary array of wrecked ships all lined up one by one. And there, off in the distance, was the small archipelago of islands where the fisher folk lived. It had been the source of the alias created for her by Celandine when the pegasi had come to call. Living there amongst that tiny collection of equine life was about as far from what her real life as you could get. She doubted her story would have stood up to even the gentlest scrutiny. She suspected the pegasus commander had know damned well it was a crock of crap too, and had overlooked the matter solely because of his connection to Celandine.

Lyra looked up and noticed they were banking towards a shadowy mass that stood out from the rest of the landscape, jutting up from the very centre of the island like the hub of a wheel. It was clearly artificial, but whatever it was left her cold despite the breaking dawn. All around that small expanse of land the sunlight glinted orange on the surface of the water, sparkling like a billion fireflies. On any other day Lyra would have considered it one of the most beautiful scenes she’d ever seen. Now it only seemed to add more shadow than light to the eldritch scene. Lyra strained to see where they were heading, to get a better look at this alien structure. And then, just as the sky carriage began to make its final approach, sunlight caught the sides of a massive tower. Her mouth hung open as it loomed up before them. It was just as Lyra had imagined, and did nothing to allay her nagging doubts. The citadel, the hub of human, zek, unicorn, or whatever the hell was in charge here, was anything but aesthetically pleasing. It was, unsurprisingly, made from the most abundently available resource of the island. And that... was metal. Thick plates of steel, liberally coated in orange rust, sat welded, rivetted, roped, or otherwise bonded together as though some gigantic foal had crushed a load of toys together and thrown them onto the island – and here they had stayed. Enormous metal walls ringed the outside, although why they were there or what could possible be so big as to need such defences was unclear, whilst in the centre stood the great tower they were now approaching. At its top was a circular structure with dozens, if not hundreds of windows. Portholes of all different shapes and sizes, doubtless scavenged from the wrecks, made it abundantly clear that this was where the seat of power was on the island. From up there you could probably see the entirety of the landmass, making escape, even if you could and knew where to go, all but impossible to do undetected. Add to that the fact you had pegasi patrolling the skies and you had the most effective prison you could ask for. Maybe Parchment had a point after all.

“We’re here.”

Lyra glanced at Parchment who was now sat bolt upright. Sure enough they were slowing down to come in for a smooth landing on a metal ledge halfway up the tower. Cut into the side were two large arched steel doors standing open ready to admit them like the mouth of some hideous monster constructed from rust and rivets. Eyes made from portholes seemed to stare down at them from above, watching Lyra’s every move as she was lead from the carriage to disappear into its cavernous maw. Behind her the doors closed with a deafening boom that had the hairs standing up all along her spine.

“This way,” Parchment said calmly. “The Maester is waiting for you.”

“Maester?” Lyra’s ears flattened at the word. She’d never come across it before, and she knew some of the more archaic terms and titles from her years of historical research. ‘Maester’ sounded like ‘Master’, and could be possibly be a warped version of that. Or maybe it was a word from antiquity she simply hadn’t encountered? Either way it sounded bloody pretentious to say the least. The owner of such a title was probably lording it up over everypony here and-

“GODS ABOVE!” Lyra leaped back in fright, throwing up a magical shield before her, “Parchment, get behind me!”

Two monstrous ‘things’ had appeared from the dark corners of the massive hall, marching towards them. The two legging beings stood at least six feet tall on wolf-like legs. They were dark grey, almost black, furred, and with a white ruff around their necks. Their heads looked like arrowheads, where two ice blue eyes as cold as the heart of winter, glowed impassively. Two small nostrils sat above a mouth that was concealed behind what may have been teeth or part of a carapace of sorts. Grey tails ending in a poof of white fur, swung from side to side. The two of them slammed to a halt, barring the way forward. Enormous arms with almost human hands, bulged out of muscular torsos. They were both armoured with blackened steel plate, their hands holding shields and spears long enough to kebab at least four ponies at once. Lyra’s mouth went dry with fear, her magic the only thing between her and the things. Behind her… Behind her was a drop to certain death. Maybe that would be preferable to one of these things getting hold of her though. Parchment however, had simply shaken his head and looked back at her with such an infuriating expression of fatherly tolerance it made her blood boil.

“What… What are they?” Lyra managed at last.

“Zeks,” Parchment said simply. “They’re here to escort us up to the Maester. Don’t worry, they won’t hurt you.”

“Are you sure about that?!” Lyra never took her eyes off the creatures, but for their part they didn’t move a muscle. They just stood there. Doing nothing.

“I’m sure.” Parchment shrugged, “If the Maester had wanted to harm you, Lyra, he wouldn’t have needed to bring you here.”

And that was that was it? Lyra peered into Parchment’s eyes which were as unreadable as ever. He did have a point of course, but the way he phrased his reply was… troubling. Reluctantly she dropped the shield and the four of them headed off, each step taking them ever deeper into the mysterious innards of the great tower.

Carpeting was apparently way down the priority list for the occupants here. Every clop of their hooves clanged like the tolling of some hellish bell, ringing out to warn the denizens of the underworld that new souls were… Goddesses, why was she thinking about things like that! She gave herself a shake and tried to occupy her overworked mind by looking at things of interest like the rusty orange walls, rusty orange floors, portholes, the occasional electric light, and – big surprise here – yet more rusty orange metalwork. No wonder she was thinking about morbid things. This whole place gave the appearance of one designed by the warped mind of a lunatic. Celestia help her, Bonnie would never believe any of this! Knowing her she’d more than likely think Lyra had lost her marbles altogether. And who could blame her? Mind you, considering Parchment’s odd manner of speech, maybe being bonkers was the norm here. Was that what happened to ponies who’d been on the island too long? Parchment hadn’t been here five minutes and he was acting as though he were… were what? She frowned in thought. Parchment had been like that when she’d first met him, hadn’t he? Damn it all, she wasn’t sure now! Lyra hadn’t paid all that much attention to him, truth be told, but what she did recall was that he was a bit too ‘matter of fact’ for her taste. Not that he wasn’t a good looking lad of course, if a bit too young for her liking, but he did have a nice arse and clearly defined musculature. With that alone ehe doubted he’d be short of a mare or two back in Equestria. Come to think of it, hadn’t there been that girl on the dig that fancied him? Eclair, Cream Puff or something… Bah! What did it matter. Bloody kids were in and out of relationships like fiddlers elbows at that age.

They began to climb a set of spiral stairs reminiscent of the type used inside Celandine and Blue’s ship - no doubt recycled like everything else here. It may have been about as aesthetically pleasing as one of those old paintings of the circles of hell, but you couldn’t fault them for being environmentally friendly. Speaking of which, it was nice and cool up here. The island had been stiflingly hot when she’d first arrived, the temperature dropping like a stone when the sun had finally gone down. With the coming of the dawn it was comfortable, but she could imagine it being like an oven in summer with all this metal around you. And what about those zek things? They were massive! The creatures were unlike anything she’d ever seen, and they were covered in fur too. If she had to guess she’d say they were related to apes, possibly, but-

“We’re here at the Maester’s request,” Parchment intoned.

Lyra gave herself a shake, returning her attention to what was happening in front of her. There were two more of the zeks, the hulking beasts flanking a wooden door which looked strangely normal. For somepony who called himself ‘Maester’, she been half expecting something more… oh, say, more sinister? Opulent maybe? What she didn’t expect was a middle aged unicorn mare sitting in a wooden chair at a large wooden desk pouring over a sheaf of paper. She didn’t look up. Lyra and Parchment waited patiently, allowing Lyra to have a good look at her surroundings. It was, rather like the mare, somewhat unremarkable. It was circular, with portholes set around the circumference. There was a set of circular stairs to an upper level, the desk, a few chairs, some paintings of sailing ships, a sideboard with glasses and spirits, and… that was about it really. The floor had been panelled in wood, as indeed had the walls to a certain degree, but it was far from the kind of place you’d expect the leader of the sinisterly named ‘Citadel’ to live. A lack of resources even here, perhaps?

“Ah, Parchment, you’re back.” The mare finally put down her pen and looked up. She was, as Parchment had alluded to, a unicorn. Her dark brown coat and snow white mane and tail were all very unremarkable, although she did have one white foreleg. Lyra had seen ponies with her colouration many times before, but it was her rich orange eyes that gave her pause. They had an almost metallic look to them, those two fathomless orbs switching from Parchment to Lyra with a disturbingly analytical sense of purpose that made her mane twitch.

“And you must be Lyra, yes?”

Lyra nodded.

“Lyra…” The brown coated mare glanced at her paperwork, “Heartstrings?”

Again, Lyra nodded.

The mare behind the desk gave a thin smile and picked up her pen in her magic, tapping it against her chin, “I take it young Parchment has informed you of the situation here?”

Situation? “Um...” Lyra cleared her throat, unsure of what to say. One thing was for sure though, she’d have to tread carefully around this mare. There was something about the seemingly innocuous female she couldn’t quite put her hoof on, but she had the impression she was somepony who you really didn’t want to cross. Come to think of it, if a pony could keep those monsters in line she had to have more going for her than just peculiar eyes. “He has,” Lyra affirmed.

“And you accepted his explanation?” the mare asked. “Without questioning its validity?”

“I...” Lyra paused. What an odd thing to ask! What in Celestia’s name was she getting at? She cleared her throat, “I had no reason to believe he would be lying to me.”

“Really? You know him that well, do you?” One corner of the mare’s mouth turned up as she scrutinised the green unicorn before her, “That’s very trusting of you.” Lyra was about to reply when the mare behind the desk clopped her hoof on the leather writing pad, “Good. Now that’s settled I shan’t have to waste any time giving pointless explanations.” She opened a drawer in her desk and took out a sheath of paper, “I understand from young Parchment here that you are a...” She poured over the notes, “a ‘singer’.”

“A musician,” Lyra corrected.

“And an archaeologist, yes?”

“That’s right.”

“Senior archaeologist?”

“Yes.”

“Hmm.” The maester frowned in thought, “Do you have any specific magical skills in, say, advanced thaumaturgical theory, dark matter applications, quantum mechanics or trans-corporial matter relocation?”

Lyra’s face must have been a picture when she answered, “Um… No?”

“High energy focussed T-Wave manipulation?”

“No.”

The maester glanced from Lyra to Parchment and back again, “You do have an education behind you, don’t you? I mean, they do have schools in Equestria, yes?”

“Well, yes, of course they do,” Lyra replies a little flustered. “But what you’re talking about, it’s, I don’t know, I’ve never heard of any of it before, let alone know what it all means.”

The maester closed her eyes, dropped her pen on the desk and leaned back letting out a long sigh, “Centuries of knowledge, thrown away like so much rubbish.” One eye opened, “So what can you do?” “Other than digging and playing instruments?” she added.

“Well, I...” Lyra faltered, her mind reeling. She felt like she was being interrogated by the head of her old school for not doing her homework! Steadily she took a breath, trying to relax her racing heart, and said, “I’m pretty good with telekinesis.”

“Telekinesis?”

“Yes, telekinesis.”

The maester raised an eyebrow, “The most basic form of magic that every unicorn is born with?”

Lyra felt a flash of anger surge through her. “When you put it like that, then no,” she replied testily. “It takes a hell of a lot of time and effort to learn how to multi-task with telekinesis. I need to be able to pluck the strings and work the fret at the same time, sometimes in front of dozens if not hundreds of ponies.” She huffed slightly, “It takes years of practice and dedication to get that good, madam. That’s not something you’re just ‘born with’, you know.”

“Oh?”

“Damned right it’s not!” Lyra tossed her mane. “Most unicorns I know can only use their magic for one thing at a time. Splitting your concentration doesn’t just come to you without putting in long hours of bloody hard work.”

“I see.” The maester shook her head slowly, something that made Lyra’s mane twitch in irritation. “And that’s it, is it?”

Lyra stared at her, trying to keep her bubbling anger under control, “Mostly. I can conjure a shield too.”

“Mmm, and why would you need to be able to ‘conjure’ such a thing?” the maester asked. “In your kind of work I mean.”

Lyra took a deep breath, “Because audiences can get rowdy at times, that’s why.”

“You normally have things thrown at you during your… ‘performances’?”

“My-?!” Lyra gritted her teeth, “Listen you, I came here because-”

“You ‘came here’ because you want to get off this island,” the maester interrupted unexpectedly. “You ‘came here’ because Parchment went to collect you and you had no choice. Not unless you wanted to stay living amongst the mud ponies and beasts of the forest.” Her strange eyes flashed, “I need unicorns who have a firm grasp of magic to help with my project here, girl, not cheap conjurors who have things thrown at them when they’re flailing at a lump of wood and string!” She rose to her hooves, her eyes boring into Lyra’s. “I cannot believe that unicorns in Equestria have…” She scrunched up her mouth as though dealing with a particularly nasty taste, “devolved so far that they don’t even have the most basic grasp of spell casting and, gods forbid, teleportation!” She took a deep breath, “I suppose I shouldn’t be that surprised. From what Parchment has told me, the alicorns have controlled the population the way a dog breeder selects his pups.” Her hooves dug into the leather pad, “However, let me tell you, Miss Heartstrings, that everypony pulls their weight here. And unless you wish to join the mud grubbing masses scrabbling in the shit outside, then I suggest you put your ‘multi-tasking’ to good use and find something useful you can do other than party tricks and foolishness fit for a foal’s birthday party!”

“Huh! Well buck me, some welcome this is,” Lyra snorted.

The maester glowered up at Lyra from under her eyebrows, “Count yourself lucky you’re getting one at all. Unicorns on this island die outside our walls, girl. You should be down on your knees giving thanks to the gods that I’ve taken you in.” The corner of her mouth curled up again, “However, you still have a chance to show your worth to us all. I suggest you use it.” She turned to the male who had stood as still and silent as a statue throughout, “Parchment, see our newest arrival to her rooms.”

“Yes, Maester.”

Lyra nearly jumped out of her hide. Goddess help her, she’d all but forgotten he was there! Then, just as she was about to leave, she took a deep breath and said, “On the beach two of your feathered goons tried to kill me. They said I was ‘tainted’.” She fixed the brown mare with a hard look, “How come the two who came to pick me up didn’t try to kill me too? Or Parchment for that matter. I thought the zeks were in charge here?”

The two mares watched each other for a time, neither willing to look away. Finally the master broke the silence, “The peasants believe the zeks are in charge because I choose it to be so. As for being ‘tainted’, it is expedient to my plans that such primitive beliefs are kept firmly in place. Your untimely appearance was an unforeseen event which lead to the unfortunate incident on the beach.” The maester sighed, sitting back down in her chair. “One of the stallions in question has been disciplined for that debacle. As for the other,” she shrugged, “I believe you are already aware of what happened to him, yes?”

Lyra nodded.

“Good,” the mare said wearily. “Now, go. I do so hate being questioned.” As Parchment began to lead Lyra out, the maester called, “Oh, and Parchment?

“Yes, Maester?”

“I will require your attendance tonight. I have informed the majordomo to have your bath ready for eight o’clock.”

“Yes, Maester.”

“Oh, yes, and make sure Miss Heartstrings is put through processing, will you?” The brown coated mare wrinkled her nose, “She reeks.”

The door closed with heavy finality, right before Lyra was about to give, what she hoped, would have been a witty and doubtless scathing retort. Having a muzzle full of door didn’t have quite the same impact. Still, at least it hadn’t actually impacted with her muzzle, or else that really would have put the top hat on it all… the stupid bitch! Lyra’s ears flattened as she turned to face the infuriatingly impassive Parchment. “Well?” she snapped, “Aren’t you going to lead me away to my cell like you mistress told you?”

Parchment merely looked away and began heading off down another corridor, clearly expecting her to follow. She did. What choice did she have? Luna’s rump, she didn’t like this situation. Not one little bit. The arrogance of that creature was astonishing! ‘Maester’ indeed! All clip and no clop, as her mother used to say of mouthy ponies. So, she thought Lyra was crap at magic did she? Well, granted she may have been reasonably correct in that regard, but still, there was no need to ram it in her face like that! And what the hell was she expecting her to do anyway? If she was so bloody special then how come she hadn’t worked out how to find a way off this island already? She noted how they were descending now, heading ever downward into what turned out to be a large corridor with oval metal doors that looked suspiciously like everything else around here – scavenged from the beached vessels. Ha! And she had the affront to turn her muzzle up at the ‘mud grubbers’ when she was living in the very stuff they’d found on the beach! Gods above, what an attitude. She’d come across unicorns who looked down on earth ponies as though they were little more than tools to be used and discarded before. Their approach to pegasi was much the same, although they were appreciated as essential for transportation – essentially glorified delivery ponies, soldiers, and taxi drivers. Some things never changed, and prejudice was never that far from the surface. Passed down from generation to generation, bigotry was ingrained today as much today as it always had been. Celestia and Luna had done their best to change ponies hearts, and they’d done wonders in that regard. Unfortunately no matter how much ponies may say openly that they didn’t discriminate against one another, the truth of the matter was that they did – they just didn’t say anything openly. This ‘Maester’ character had no such social niceties to contend with. Rather she simply said what she thought. What was Lyra to say to that? It wasn’t as though she were in a position to challenge her opinion of earth ponies, as if she did then she might find herself taking a one way ticket to the digestive system of one of the bloody ‘chock’ things.

As if in answer to her brooding, Parchment cleared his throat. “I suggest you don’t antagonise her,” he offered. “The Maester does not take criticism, or dissent, well.”

“Oh, doesn’t she?” Lyra retorted. “What a bloody shame.” She frowned in thought, “You know, for a young lad who arrived here barely five minutes before I got here, you didn’t waste any time getting your conniving little hooves under the table.” She let out an ironic snort, “Warming the boss’s bed already, are you?”

The young stallion glanced at Lyra. “I do what I need to to survive,” he said simply. “And you’re wrong, I haven’t been here ‘five minutes’.” He took a breath before adding, “I’ve been here just over six months.”

Lyra’s brow furrowed, “You’ve what?” She suddenly barked out a laugh at the ridiculous assertion. “Did you bang your head or something? You only went missing the night before I went through the portal looking for your sorry bones. Goddesses give me strength, are they doing something to your-”

For the first time, Parchment’s emotions surfaced in a flash that made Lyra stop in her tracks. “Time is distorted in the portal,” he announced unexpectedly. “Maybe you didn’t notice as you, like me, didn’t have any point of reference. But I can assure you that it has been a lot longer than ‘five minutes’ since I arrived here. The Maester and her ponies have been looking after me ever since.” Lyra noticed the twitch under his eye as he added, “I owe her my life, Lyra. If I have to do… certain things… to help make her comfortable, then I will do it gladly. And willingly.”

So, he was the maester’s bed warmer, was he? If that were the case then it was doubtful Lyra would get any information out of him that was unbiased. However he may still prove to be a useful asset if push came to shove. For now though she’d play along and see just what was going on here. If the shit hit the fan then Parchment’s loyalty to his buck-buddy may not prove to be as cast iron as the odd eyed mare apparently thought. The lad was still an Equestrian, and if he had a chance to get off the miserable island then he’d take it in a heartbeat. She was sure of that. Mind you, if what Parchment had said was true, then they may be close to getting out of here anyway. The maester seemed to know her stuff, so perhaps it would be best to ride the waves and see where the current took her. Still, two weeks! No wonder he was acting the way he was.

“Okay, Parchment, I understand.” Lyra gave the lad a gentle smile, “I didn’t mean to offend you, or your friend back there.”

The stallion shook his head, “You didn’t offend me. Just, please, take a word of advice: don’t piss her off. These zeks, they don’t mess around, Lyra.” He shivered noticeably. “I saw them… do things to a guy who…” He paused, swallowing, “Look, just watch what you do and say. Please.”

“Sure thing, Parchment,” Lyra assured him, trying to look sincere. “If she wants my help in getting us off this island, then I can play nice.”

The stallion looked so pathetically relieved it made her feel like laughing. “Thanks,” he said with a nod. They’d stopped by a room that had a faded sign above the door. It was, unsurprisingly, in a language she couldn’t read. “It says ‘Boat Deck’,” Parchment announced as though reading her mind. “Room twenty seven A.”

Lyra rounded on him in astonishment, “You can read Human?!”

“I can read some words of ‘English’, yes,” came the slightly sarcastic reply. “They have more than one country the same as our world. And like our world, not everypony speaks the same language. English is the most common one I’ve encountered. It’s not that dissimilar to Equestrian when you take the time to study it.”

Take the time to study it? In six months?! Lyra shook her head in amazement, “And of course, you know so much about it, right?”

“A lot more than you, apparently.” Parchment’s expression never wavered, “I’ve been here six months, remember?”

“So you said,” Lyra replied, rolling her eyes. “I still can’t believe it.”

“Neither can I,” Parchment mumbled.

The unexpectedly honest response took Lyra by surprise. It was the first display of openness she’d seen from the young lad since she’d been reacquainted with him. She pushed the door open and pulled him inside, slamming it shut behind them. “Right you, spill it,” Lyra huffed, bringing her muzzle close to his. “Something stinks to high heaven about all this, Parchment, and I’m not talking about my coat either. What the hell’s really going on here?”

Parchment blinked, “I don’t-”

“And you can cut that ‘I don’t know’ shit out, straight away!” Lyra snapped. “Come on, Parchment, for goodness sake we’re both Equestrians here. This world, or this ‘island’, is a bloody hell hole! Now, I want to get out of here as much as you do, so please, just be honest with me. Please?”

If Lyra had expected Parchment to burst into a rant about life here on the island, or unveil some deeply hidden secret about the citadel, then she was about to be gravely disappointed. Parchment opened his mouth to speak just as the door thumped open, catching the unfortunate stallion in the rump and making him grunt in pain. It was a zek. The looming creature more than filled the doorway, and then some.

“I have to go,” Parchment said, his voice lowered.

“Go? Go where?” Lyra asked. The way he said it sounded so ominous it made her neck quiver. She stared up at the zek who simply stood there… looming. It seemed to be their one special talent, other than intimidating young ponies.

“The work assessor will be coming to speak to you shortly,” Parchment said mechanically. “Please make yourself comfortable until then.” He pointed to a door in the corner of the room, “The shower’s there, and there’s plenty of soap and towels for you to use.”

Lyra blinked, “Um, yeah… Thanks.”

The door closed leaving Lyra to her own devices. For a while she just stared at the space where Parchment had been standing only a moment ago. He’d been about to say something to her when that bloody great hairy thing had rolled up. Had it been following them? It hadn’t been there a minute earlier, she’d checked the corridor before closing the door, and… She scrunched up her face and swore under her breath. There was some seriously shady nonsense going on here, and she was beginning to think that leaving Blue and Celandine hadn’t been such a good idea. If she’d had a choice in the matter of course, but then she hadn’t had she?

“If wishes were humans, ponies would ride,” Lyra mumbled, turning to inspect the room. “Well, Lyra old girl, let’s have a look at our presidential suite, eh?”

‘Presidential’ it was not by any stretch of the imagination, however the cabin was still very well appointed. A bed, no doubt made for one or two humans, was the main feature, with cupboards and drawers clearly designed for beings with hands. Thankfully Lyra had that covered, magicking up her own glowing yellow version of that most versatile of human appendages to make short work of her ‘urban exploration’. There were pamphlets in one drawer showing colour pictures of humans, and… was that a human female? She’d never actually seen one of course, but there were certain traits present that certainly suggested that was the case. The creature had noticeably softer features than the male, a longer mane, and looked more ‘gentle’ somehow. They two of them were pretty much the same height, but the artist had depicted the male as physically stronger with a more ‘business like’ appearance. He was also smoking a pipe, a predominantly male habit back home, whereas the ‘female’ was wearing a dress and a pinny almost identical to the one Lyra had in the kitchen at home. A pair of smaller humans stood next to them, similarly dressed in smaller versions of what the adults were wearing. Lyra had seen pamphlets like this back home in Equestria, often shoved through your letter box along with adverts for the local pizza parlour or charity. Usually they were trying to get you to buy something or sign up to something you’d normally never consider in a million years. Generally it all went straight into the recycling bin or shoved into a drawer with other fifty pamphlets you hadn’t gotten around to throwing out yet. This one however was clearly meant to portray a perceived ideal of a human family. The fact they were all smiling and posing in front of a neat little house on a perfectly sunny day left the reader in no doubt about that. What the pamphlet was actually about was hard to say due to the alien language. Lyra could just about make out the odd word, but it was all but impossible to make anything but wild guesses as to its creators intended message.

The female human, if indeed that was what it was, had quite a pronounced chest compared to the male. She looked closer, feeling along her own chest, down to where her own ‘female parts’ were. The human was fully clothed so she couldn’t tell for sure how different they were anatomically speaking, however they apparently reproduced the same way ponies did. Walking in on Blue and Celandine had sure driven that point home! She felt her cheeks and ears heat up at the memory and quickly shut the drawer. The next drawer held a book with nothing but text, however the way it was structured, with the gold embossed cross on the front, gave her the impression it held particular significance to the humans. A religious text perhaps? Again she could read the odd word, but even then she wasn’t sure she was right. Damn it all, she hadn’t even asked Blue about any of it before he… Oh, gods, what a nightmare this was! Hopefully Celandine would be alright, although the way things had looked when she’d left her, she doubted it. There was nothing she could do about it now anyway. Lyra gave herself a hard shake, trying in some measure to rid herself of the horrible images that kept popping up in her mind whenever she let her guard down. Right now she had other things to think about. Like a shower.

The bathroom which was immediately off the main bedroom was predictably small, doubtless made for taller creatures than herself. Turning around without bumping into the polished ceramic utilities was proving to be a touch awkward, and not a little frustrating too. Thankfully the impending feeling of claustrophobia was kept at bay by leaving the door to the bathroom open. So long as there were no unexpected visitors in the next few minutes she’d be able to do what all civilised creatures did when the opportunity arose – to wash. What was incredible was how similar to Equestrian plumbing the bathroom was. Hot water sprayed out of the shower head, controlled nicely with a little cold to get the temperature just right. The soap too, not quite as floral as she’d like, was perfect for her needs right then. And boy, did she need it! Lyra groaned, looking up at the shower head as the water soaked though her fur, sluicing the filth, sweat and fear away down the drain. Gods, something so simple, so basic, was like a little slice of heaven in this hellscape. She let her mind roam free, revelling in the mechanics of washing. After this a nap would just hit the spot.