Four Hundred muffins below the lake

By Silvertie

“Mummy?” Dinky Doo asked, as her mother tucked her into bed.

“Yes, muffin?” replied Ditzy, cheerfully.

“How did you get your cutie mark? Mrs. Sparkle tells anypony who asks about hers, and gets really enthusiastic-“

“You shouldn’t keep teaming up with other foals to ask her the story, muffin – that’s mean.”

“-yes, mummy - and Mrs. Dash tells us anyway, even if we don’t ask. How did you get yours?”

“One moment, muffin,” Ditzy got up, and moving quick, left the room. She came back in a very short period of time (A record, given how easily she forgot things) with a large square of…

“Bubble-wrap?”

“That’s right, muffin. I’m really good at popping bubble-wrap, I discovered it when I worked for my uncle’s shipping company.”

Dinky felt a bit cheated. “That’s it?”

“’That’s it?’ is that all you can say about your mummy’s skill at popping bubble-wrap?”

To emphasize the point, Ditzy held a hoof up to the light, comparing it to the size of Dinky’s head – then, with a practiced motion, threw the wrap down on the ground, and started jabbing at the small plastic bubbles with a hoof.

At first, she started slow, but then began to pick up speed – Dinky realized what her mummy meant when she said “skill”; hitting a small target with hooves was hard enough, but doing it as quickly as her mummy was really was impressive.

The grey mail-mare’s hoof darted back and forth across the sheet, carefully picking out bubbles as best as she could with her one controllable eye. The other just stared at the bubble-wrap and Dinky intermittently.

Finally, Ditzy sat back, finished; she picked up the bubble-wrap, and presented it to Dinky, who examined it in the better light of her lantern.

It was a portrait of her – given the medium, it was almost perfect. Hardly a bubble was out of place.

“Now, that,” declared Ditzy, “is ‘it’, muffin. Now go to sleep – big day ahead of you, tomorrow.”

“’night, mummy.”

“Goodnight, muffin.”

The door closed with a gentle thump, and Dinky puffed out her lantern and went to sleep.

======

“Cutie marks are unique talents, correct, Bright?” a male voice asked in darkness.

“That’s right – you’ve been listening, huh?” responded the mare’s voice from the same void.

“Sort of – I did research before I came here. But the impression I get is that a cutie mark is your super-special, unique talent that practically defines you.”

“You’re not wrong. Twilight Sparkle’s mark of magic is literally that – she’s the greatest mage of our time.”

“So what’s the bloody deal with bubble-wrap popping? You’re good, but you’re not that good.”

There was silence for a moment, and then Bright sighed in defeat; “You’re right – my cutie mark of bubbles isn’t bubble-wrap. But Ditzy Doo believes it is – she must, or there would be massive holes in her past, which would drive her insane.”

“Well, I’ll ask the easy one first – why are you so good at bubble-wrap portraits?”

“Ever been a Royal Guard?”

“No. I kill Royal Guard, remember? Assassin?”

“Well, you know I was – your little assault on the Princess was the first for like twelve years. I got bored on sentry duty sometimes, and, well…”

“I like it when guards are bored – they distract themselves, I don’t have to waste time and kill them from afar.”

“Yes, well, Celestia must have… ah hem, found out about my habit and made it part of Ditzy’s ‘past’.”

“Okay, now I have to ask the hard question: if you didn’t get your mark for bubble-wrap, what did you get it for, then? Waterboarding?”

“No, that’s abhorrent,” Bright retorted, “No, it was for… it involved lots of water.”

An expectant silence filled the void.

“A pony with even half a sense of compassion would stop there.”

“Ass-ass-innn,” repeated the Assassin’s soul.

“Fine. I’ll tell you a story, then. A story of a foal, her father, and the water…”

======

“Ohmygoshohmygosh, I can’t believe it!” a small, light-grey Pegasus foal bounced around her long-suffering pale-purple father, who was busy checking off points on a list. “I get to go underwater! Everypony’s going to be soooo jealous!”

“Hey, now, Bright,” her father said, “This is important – I have to inspect the Submersible Chariot for safety, so other ponies can use it safely. Could you please tone it down just a bit?”

“Okay!” Bright Eyes said cheerfully, continuing to bounce in silence.

The pair were standing at the edge of a dock, at the corner of a vast lake. Bright’s father, a unicorn, was dressed in a fluorescent-orange vest and hard-hat, horn aglow as he prodded and stress-tested various things of the big yellow metal structure in the water before them. Around them, ponies of all kinds wearing identical vests and hard-hats were setting up pipes and putting away tools as they prepared for the submersible’s maiden journey.

“Hey, Scalpel!” a charcoal-grey engineer-pony hailed Bright’s father with a waved hoof, “You done with those preliminary checks yet? We’re all done setting up the monitoring gear!”

“You don’t rush safety checks,” warned Scalpel Edge – Bright Eyes’ father was aptly named, given his talent: very little got past Scalpel, an inherited surgeon’s eye for detail, combined with a specialization in physics making him one of Canterlot’s top safety inspectors.

Over the years, Scalpel Edge’s signature on a safety warrant had become a hallmark for quality – if he didn’t sign it, it wasn’t completely safe.

“Come on, daddy!” Bright egged, galloping on the spot.

“Patience, Bright,” Scalpel reiterated, “Remember: Patience is a virtue. You can’t rush things.”

“Yes daddy,” sighed Bright, flapping her wings in mild irritation. It was an old lesson that her father had repeated to her so much and so often… pfft. She loved her daddy, but he was just old – small children had to go fast.

“And… done. The submarine meets all the requirements,” declared Scalpel, signing off on the warrant of fitness and handing it to a nearby engineer.

“Excellent – I’m sure Celestia will approve the Submersible Chariot if your signature’s the one on the safety warrant,” the engineer said with confidence.

“I should hope so – I’m going to be riding the thing on its maiden voyage along with my daughter.”

“Yeah,” the engineer rubbed the back of his mane awkwardly, “about that… you do realize that space is limited in the submersible chariot? Two ponies can fit in, at most.”

“You assured me that it wouldn’t be hard to pilot, Lanyard.”

“Oh, and it is,” Lanyard assured, “Even an Earth or Pegasus pony should have no trouble. But if something goes wrong… a leak, system failure…”

“Nothing will go wrong – for the dive we’ve planned, the submersible will work,” Scalpel repeated, “And it will not fail. I trust in your team to work properly, and an official test is required to officially mark this vehicle ‘safe’.”

“Yeah, but… your daughter?”

“What better way to endorse my safety report than with a collaborative note from my very own daughter? It’s perfectly safe.”

Lanyard sighed, taking off his hard-hat and rubbing his head. “Alright, Scalpel – but we’re putting together a dive team as well. I don’t want a failing of the Submersible to account for the death of a friend, you hear me?”

Scalpel raised an eyebrow. “You don’t have confidence in your own design?”

The engineer shook his head. “No. I have plenty of confidence, but this is a first test. It’s good enough for myself, and my team, but I’m uneasy when I’m putting the life of a friend on the line, let alone his daughter.”

“Nothing’ll go wrong, Lanyard,” reassured Scalpel, “I’m sure of it. Now, let’s prepare this thing for launch.”

======

The Submersible Chariot. Hundreds of thousands of bits had gone into its development – a self-pulling chariot that could take a pony to the depths of the ocean itself… provided it held up in its tests.

The submarine world was not one known to ponykind – being quadrupeds, they were ill-equipped for swimming, let alone diving to the deepest parts of Equestria. The diving suit enabled a degree of exploration, but a pony could only go as far as the air hose could stretch – not far enough. Add in that the suit had to be heavy enough to always hold the pony down so they could walk, and it was no surprise that either exhaustion or hose-length always limited a foray into the water.

Forged from light-weight yellow steel, and with a front done made of reinforced glass framed with magical lanterns, the Chariot was a metal pill that could travel all the way down, and back up, with its own magical air-purification systems that couldn’t be carried by a pony in a diving suit. On the sides, two long and slender pill-shapes rested – the ballast tanks, providing stability. Harnessed to the front by steel rods, magically-powered propellers awaited; ready to pull the pill-shaped chariot wherever the pilot wished.

It was Lanyard’s dream, made real. It was a world of possibility, held back only by the results of the first real test – diving to the bottom of Trottingham Lake.

As the final preparations were made, countless boats set sail on the lake from the nearby town of Trottingham; the town was an inland town, but still managed to boast the most nautically-minded ponies in all of Equestria - small wonder that all the nautical innovation of the last seven hundred years had happened in, on or around Trottingham Lake.

As Lanyard and Scalpel made the last checks, Bright Eyes looked from the top of the submersible at the ships and boats gathering on the lake, short wings flapping gently in excitement.

“Daddy, there’s boats everywhere!”

“That’s because they’re all here to watch you and me test Lanyard’s Submersible, pumpkin.”

“I’m not a pumpkin!”

“Ohh,” Lanyard said, looking up, “I dunno… you’re looking a bit orange. Do you have issues on Nightmare Night?”

Bright just stuck her tongue out at Lanyard, and he chuckled, returning to the operation manual with Scalpel.

Equestria’s first submarine ride - and she was going to be one of the first ever to ride it! Bright vibrated excitedly, a high pitched EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE escaping from her like steam from a kettle.

Today was like the best day ever.

======

The metal yellow pill puttered out into the center of the lake, flanked by two small tugboats covered in engineer-ponies making notes or congratulating each other on a job well done.

Inside the submersible, the hatch in the roof had been sealed tight, and Bright watched the world from a unique view – at the top half of the big window that was the front, she could see the top-half of the propellers, and the world above the surface of the water. And at the bottom, the underwater world – a green-blue colored void, with the occasional fish darting by.

“You okay, Bright? Nervous?”

“No way, daddy,” Bright denied, “This is easy-peasy! It’ll be the best ride ever!”

“Better than a piggy-back ride from me?”

Bright seemed torn. “We-ll… don’t tell mister Lanyard, but not quite.”

Scalpel laughed. “Nice to see your old sire’s still number one.”

The Submersible reached earshot of the boats surrounding the dive site, and cheering reached Bright’s ears.

“Why are they cheering so loud?” She asked.

“It’s the first ever Submersible Chariot,” Scalpel said, “And if this succeeds, it opens up possibilities! The ocean floor becomes our new playground, advances in underwater technology become feasible… this is a defining moment for Equestria, Bright – trust me. We’re going down in history for this, remember that.”

“History?” Bright’s mind drifted back to the horrible, boring tomes that lived in the Ponyville library. “Ew. Don’t like history. Prefer WonderMare books.”

“Fair enough.”

A small box on the wall of the submarine rattled, and a voice escaped the grill.

“Scalpel Edge, this is Lanyard. You hear me?”

“I hear you,” Scalpel responded.

“Great, the wireless can works.” Another innovation from the mind of Lanyard, the wireless can used Unicorn magic to simulate a piece of string. (Which had also had the effect of reducing the cost of the Submersible’s communication system to the cost of two cans of beans and a box of tissues.)

“Anything else, Lanyard?”

“Nope – Dive when you’re ready, come back up in ten minutes, okay? We do need to prove that this thing works, after all.”

“Ten minutes sounds good.”

“Aw, only ten minutes?” Bright pouted.

“It’s just the first trip. Once we know it works, I’m sure we can take it down for a longer time, right, Lanyard?”

“Sure – I see that somepony’s organized for one of Cheese Cake’s cakes to be delivered, it looks ridiculous on that little schooner. Take your time; none of the boys’ll want the Submersible any time soon.”

“Thanks, Lanyard.”

“No, thank you for giving my dream the mark of approval it needs, Scalpel - holler if you need help, we’ll get a team down there pronto.”

There was a clunk, and the wireless can went silent.

“Can we go yet, daddy?” Bright nagged.

“Sure thing, Bright – let’s go!”

Scalpel flicked a lever, and the entire pod began to sink, bubbles blowing everywhere to the tune of an enthusiastically cheering crowd. With another flick of a lever, the propellers angled downwards, and pulled the vessel into the green depths of the lake.

======

“I’m bored,” whined the pegasus foal, flapping her wings in exasperation.

“It’s only been two minutes, my dear.”

“But nothing’s happening!”

“Trottingham Lake is deep, Bright – that’s why nopony’s ever seen the bottom of it before. Should take us four minutes to get there and back, giving us a couple of minutes to look about.”

“But it’s so quiet down here!”

“That’s because it’s just us, Bright – we’re already deeper than anypony has ever gone before.”

“Huraurrrrrr,” responded the foal, sighing. “Wait, what’s that?”

“What’s what?”

“That big rock cliff thing ahead of us.”

“Oh, ponyfeathers!” Scalpel quickly wrenched back on the inclination lever, and the submersible stopped diving down, pulling up just in time to clear the lip of the hole and the surface around it.

“What is it?” Bright asked, curious.

“It’s a hole, Bright,” Scalpel said, “But… the lake should be deeper than this… unless the plumb line went right down this hole…”

The hole was not just a hole – it was more like a vertical tunnel – it was probably wide enough for six or seven Submersible Chariots to travel down, side by side, with plenty of room to maneuver.

“Can we go in? Can we? Can we?” Bright put her hooves on her father’s shoulder and began to shake him in her efforts to persuade.

“You don’t need to shake me – of course. I want to know why there’s a giant hole in the bottom of Trottingham Lake.”

The little submersible revved up its propellers, and banked around, cruising down into the hole.

======

“This is a big hole,” breathed Bright, “This is so. Cool.”

“It’ll be something to tell your classmates about, huh?” Scalpel chuckled, his eyes belying his alert state. The tunnel had gone straight down for a time, and then begun to curve to the side in a gradual J-shape. According to a little set of numbers on the wall, they were at just over four hundred and fifty Lanyards below the surface of the lake.

Who named a measurement after themselves? Well, apparently Lanyard did.

“What’s a Lanyard?” Bright suddenly asked.

“Well, a Lanyard is a thing you use to tie things to your neck or hoof, and-“

“No, the thing on the wall. Four-five-zero Lanyards.”

“Oh, that – it’s just a measurement that Lanyard invented to measure how deep things are underwater. I think it’s the distance between his head and his flank when he’s standing up straight.”

“He’s using himself as a measuring thing?”

“Yeah, I said it was pretty silly when he invented it, but look at us – four hundred and fifty times his length, below the surface.”

The two sat in silence, watching the walls of the tunnel flow past, the lanterns illuminating protruding chunks of rock and casting shadows. The water was still and undisturbed by anything, not even any fish – just small motes of dust and waterborne vegetation, spotlighted briefly before fading away once more to the darkness.

“So, daddy,” Bright started again, “What digs tunnels like this, anyway?”

Scalpel choked a little. He hadn’t thought about that – he’d thought the tunnel was natural.

“What… what makes you sure something dug this?”

“Well,” Bright said, “It’s like an earthworm’s tunnel, only bigger. So would that be a giant, underwater earthworm that did this?”

Scalpel looked at the tunnel walls – he knew what an earthworm tunnel should look like, but this… it was no earthworm tunnel.

“Um, that’s a good guess,” he said, encouragingly. “But can you think of anything with lots of arms like-“

He fell silent as the Submersible Chariot suddenly ran out of tunnel, and entered a gargantuan chamber.

“Whoaoaoaoaoa,” Bright gawped, looking out at the vast expanse. A dragon’s hoard… or three… was piled on the floor of the cavern, spreading out almost further than her keen eyes could see.

“What in the wide world of Equestria…” breathed Scalpel, in awe. There had to be trillions of bits’ worth of treasure down here, just sitting here at the bottom of Trottingham Lake.

“Octopus.”

“What?” Scalpel looked at his daughter, who was pointing out the front of the Chariot. “What is it?”

“Octopus, that’s a thing that has a lot of arms, right?”

“Uh, yeah,” Scalpel said, recalling the recent discovery of the freakish creatures in the ocean, “But what does an octopus have to do with this?”

Bright just pointed, going slightly pale. Scalpel finally turned to look, and saw it.

Twirling menacingly in the ether, a titanically huge creature with eight limbs covered in small cups eyed them, a beak on the underside snapping open and shut silently.

“Ohhh no,” Scalpel said, “That’s not good, not good at all, not good…”

He grabbed levers, and threw them, pushing the little craft into motion with little grace and a lot of haste.

“What’s wrong, daddy?” Bright asked, concerned.

“That thing is what’s wrong. It probably created the tunnel over the years, by wearing away at the rock as it squeezed through.”

“It didn’t look that big.”

“It was far away.”

“Eep.” Bright sunk down into her seat, heart pounding.

The small craft raced along, leaving streams of bubbles in its wake. Scalpel pushed the engines to the safety limits, anxious about the creature pursuing them.

It wasn’t part of the safety checks he’d performed, but at this depth, the creature could quite easily crush them into a small lump of steel the size of a large rock. It was a sobering thought.

With a rush of pressure, suddenly, the craft accelerated, being pushed by an unseen force.

“Daddy! What’s going on?!” Bright squealed, afraid.

“The chase is on, Bright.”

======

With a whoosh of bubbles, the submersible was propelled from the mouth of the tunnel like a small yellow bullet, a minnow fleeing before the sheer mass of the shark pursuing it.

“Faster!” Bright urged.

“As fast as we can go, sweetheart,” Scalpel grunted, trying to keep the submersible on-course. “Hold your breath for a bit – I’m inflating the ballast.”

With a flick of a hoof, he threw the ballast lever in the opposite direction – with a jolt, and a whooshing noise, the air was rapidly pumped out of the cabin and into the emptying ballast tanks.

“Aaaaaaaaaa!” Bright squealed, as the pair grimaced at the thinness of the air in the cabin for a few moments before the air-pump replaced the drained oxygen. As the air was duplicated, the submersible accelerated even more, pulled upwards by the buoyancy of the air contained within.

For a moment, the two relaxed – how hard was it to catch something underwater being pulled up by a large quantity of air contained within?

The numbers on the Lanyard-meter ticked past rapidly – three hundred, two hundred, one hundred.

A tentacle lashed out alongside them, dwarfing them, and with a quick motion, grabbed. Suction cups that adorned the tentacle affixed themselves to the hull, and Bright and Scalpel screamed and shouted in surprise as they were thrown off their seats by the sudden deaccelration.

The Lanyard-meter read just fifty three. Fifty three lanyards below the surface.

======

Lanyard the pony engineer looked at his stopwatch with concern. A co-worker noticed, and sidled up alongside the concerned friend.

“What’s up, Lanyard?”

“I said ten minutes – Scalpel knows how important that is, and he should have timed himself. It’s been eleven minutes.”

“So, he’s a minute late. That’s not a big deal, is it?”

“For Scalpel, it is.”

As Lanyard spoke, the surface of the lake suddenly began to froth and bubble. Had he spoken too soon? Was his worrying premature after all?

The crowd began to roar, anticipating the rise of the submarine. The bubbles slowed, and… nothing.

The cheering petered out, as ponies looked at the settling surface of the lake with concern. Hushed muttering could be heard, and Lanyard’s gut began to churn again.

It wasn’t the muttering, or the fact that his career as a nautical engineer was probably over. No, when the dismembered engine floated to the surface, caught on one of the tanks of ballast…

It was the fact that he’d just killed his best friend and his friend’s daughter with his incompetence.

“GET THE DIVE TEAMS! GET MY FRIEND OUT!”

======

Scalpel felt like swearing – it was all he could do at this point. The submarine was sinking once again, this time being pulled by the gargantuan tentacle encircling their little craft.

Bright jumped as the walls buckled once more with a wrenching of steel, and several leaks were sprung. Scalpel put a reassuring hoof on her shoulder, but it had little effect.

“Daddy, I’m scared.”

“Hush, now,” Scalpel said, hugging his daughter, “That mean old thing can’t crush this vehicle, I checked it. It’d have to be capable of destroying a big old ship to crush our little Chariot.”

The walls buckled once again, springing much faster leaks. Cracks frosted the window at the front of the cockpit, to punctuate Scalpel’s statement; all the while, the Lanyard-counter increased even more.

“Daddy… I think it can destroy a big old ship.”

“Uh, hah hah… yeah…” Scalpel got up, and scanned about. He knew the submersible inside out – its strengths, its weaknesses. There had to be a way… the main hatch? No, the water pressure was far too strong compared to the air inside, he had to…

“Bright, dear, would you stand here, please?”

Bright Eyes sniffed, and walked over to stand where indicated, next to her father, who held her close.

“We’re getting out of here,” he stated, bluntly, “But you’re going to have to hold your breath.”

“How long?”

“As long as it takes, you hear me, Bright? You hold your breath no matter what. Don’t breathe in until you’re seeing sunlight on the surface, okay? If you don’t think you can hold it in any more, let it out slowly, like blowing bubbles.”

“You mean like how mummy doesn’t want me blowing bubbles in my drink when we go to Pony Joe’s?” Bright asked, encouraged.

“Exactly – a bit slower, though.”

Bright sucked in a deep breath, but Scalpel held up a hoof. “Not yet. Wait until we have almost no air left in here – I have to let the water in first.”

“No!” Bright’s attitude to the whole plan flip-flopped.

“Bright. Look at me.” Scalpel looked at his daughter, and met her golden eyes. “You’ll. Be. Okay. Trust me.”

Bright just nodded, and grimaced, eyes shut. Scalpel looked to the cockpit, and saw a trickle of water entering through a crack.

All we need to do is make that a bit bigger…

His horn lit up with magic, and a chunk of the glass window glowed as he wrenched on it with all his magical might.

With a splintering, cracking noise, the glass collapsed inwards, forming a hole the size of Bright herself, through which water rushed in a torrent. The lanterns, not designed for exposure to water, extinguished, leaving a faint glow of light from Scalpel’s horn to illuminate what remained of the vessel as it buckled and shrunk some more.

Bright Eyes clung to her father tighter, wings furled in anxiety. Scalpel held his daughter, praying to Celestia. He would pay any price to fix his horrible mistake. He shouldn’t have gone deeper. He should have protected her.

He was a horrible father.

======

Lanyard twisted hooves anxiously as a pair of stoic earth ponies put on diving gear – given the very real chance that they might be carrying things to the surface, they were forgoing the traditional weighted shoes, sticking to the air-helmets and inflatable vests so they could rise again.

The helmets were simple affairs – made of metal, and featuring large windows on the front and sides, they were built sturdy – not like the big glass cockpit for the Submersible Chariot.

Lanyard was dying inside. Celestia herself would not be impressed with his irresponsibility – he’d be lucky to be banished at this rate. It would be a blessing, to avoid having to tell Scalpel’s wife…

No. That was even more irresponsible. No matter what, he would tell Scalpel’s family what had happened himself, and face the consequences.

He owed it to Scalpel.

======

The water rose rapidly – with all the leaks and holes, the hull was now a particularly inefficient sieve in places, and the remaining air pocket dwindled rapidly.

The two ponies, levitated by Scalpel’s magic, were pressed against the ceiling. The still-functioning Lanyard-meter read one hundred and thirty eight.

“Bright, dear?”

“Yes, daddy?”

“I’m going to open the hatch for you, okay – after that, you swim up as fast as you can – I’ll be right behind you, pushing you, alright?”

“Yes, daddy.” Bright nodded, determined. Scalpel saw a fire in her eyes, a do-or-die determination – she really did take after her mother, in the end.

Radiant Sunrise – what had she seen in him? He was just a safety inspector – hardly a glamorous job, and a unicorn to boot. She was the head of the Ponyville weather team, and the region coordinator – she controlled the weather as far as Manehattan and all around the Everfree.

She had the whole world to pick from and she’d picked him…

Bright had to live. Not for him, for her – Radiant would probably die if she found out her husband and daughter had both perished in a freak accident.

He chuckled. Come to think of it, Lanyard would probably follow not long after – that guy was so determined to do the honorable thing, he’d probably tell her the news himself. And then die of shame when his wife died, which would cause his own family to die of grief, and…

Bright definitely had to live – or else there’d be a wave of deaths on his hooves. Heh. Wave, water time to make puns.

“Daddy? Now?” Bright’s face was pressed right up to the roof, and she was breathing through the corner of her mouth.

“Now, Bright.” Scalpel sucked in a breath of his own, cheeks ballooning out, and Bright imitated him.

The water filled the submarine quickly. Under the water, the muted clicking of the ever-increasing Lanyard-meter filled the space, as Scalpel applied his magic to the hatch, praying it was unobstructed.

Celestia had listened – the tentacle didn’t block the hatch from swinging ponderously open, nor did it impede Bright as she struggled for the surface. Scalpel took one last look around at the Submersible Chariot – it was good. Just not good enough to withstand being attacked by a tentacle monster from the deep, apparently.

As he exited, he saw the Lanyard-meter, functions finally halted by water. One-six-four. One Lanyard was about one-point-eight metres, which meant they had roughly three hundred and twenty eight meters to swim up.

No time like the present. With a flex of a hoof, he pushed away from the doomed vessel, and watched it go, tentacle wrapped greedily around the polished yellow prototype, disregarding it’s escaping passengers. He saluted the vehicle, and pressed onwards, swimming hard.

He focused his magic on his daughter, not far above – using his telekinesis, he lifted her up, taking her weight as his own and struggling onwards.

======

Two ponies underwater. One smaller, and supported by the glow of magic. The larger one, swimming as well as he could, but struggling.

Ponies are not marine creatures by nature. Sea-ponies were thought to be a missing link in that regard. Four hooves does not a good swimmer make, as the philosopher Strong Yodel had once said.

The design that had allowed them to travel the depths of the underwater world for no more than ten minutes lay crumpled and destroyed in the grip of a leviathan underwater, deeper than they. The splashes of ponies descending to meet them, far and away, beyond helping.

And yet, the reaper sat, idle, on a rock at the bottom of the lake. Many ponies had perished here in the past – witch trials, accidents, ‘Accidents’. They were all the same to him.

But this case… he looked at the hourglasses in his bony hooves. One filled with a pale purple sand, the other with a light grey sand, falling even here, underwater. The light-grey sand had a feel of importance to it.

Death sighed, and put away the hourglasses into his voluminous, flowing barding, which persisted in remaining dry as he, and rose, effortlessly defying the immense pressure of the water.

The next few minutes… he patted the light purple hourglass, satisfied. When it came to fighting Death, it was all about Pizazz, that was all he’d say about it.

======

Scalpel’s lungs burned, his chest bucked.

He needed air. But the surface was still a good one hundred and fifty meters away, by his guess. He saw the splashes of divers descending to fetch them, and smiled.

Lanyard – the clod-hopper had been right to get them ready; some safety inspector he was.

He let the last bubbles of air escape his mouth, and grimaced.

Forgive me, Bright, Radiant.

With one last telekinetic shove, he pushed Bright far into the water above him, the very effort stealing what strength he had left.

Water entered his lungs as his body sought out air, and found none, and Scalpel’s world faded to black.

======

Bright soared through the water – swimming was easy! It felt like she was flying!

All of a sudden, swimming suddenly became hard. She struggled a bit, and the truth hit her. She hadn’t been swimming well, she’d been carried by…

Daddy. The pale-purple unicorn that was half of her entire world, now sinking ever deeper. She stopped for a moment, recalling the words.

You swim up as fast as you can - I’ll be right behind you, pushing you, alright?

The foal’s face hardened. Daddy was always giving her rides. Carrying her, helping her, being her Daddy.

It was time to be a Daughter.

======

Deadweight and Driftwood sunk through the water, a practiced motion.

What wasn’t practiced was trying to find two ponies in the biggest lake in Equestria. Two ponies who might not even be alive. They saw the bubbles trailing up from something in the depths below them, and travelled lower still.

They saw the tentacle, submarine in its grip, and blanched. Deadweight made to give chase, only for Driftwood to put a hoof on his shoulder, pointing at two small glowing dots.

Safety Inspector Edge and his daughter – alive! They swam closer with haste, mindful of their air-hoses. The day could still be saved.

The Safety Inspector’s pace slowed, and the glow faded. Driftwood and Deadweight looked at each other, faces telling the whole story through their helmets. The foal stayed alive, though – they could see some movement, frantic kicking.

Then, the foal turned around. Driftwood and Deadweight doubled their pace, venting air to decrease their buoyancy. What was she doing?!

The question was answered – with her teeth, the foal clamped down on the inspector’s vest, and strained. Driftwood and Deadweight’s hearts went out to her – it was admirable, but doomed to fail. She was one foal, trying to lift an adult… underwater, no less. Not even Thin Crust would give odds on that.

======

Bright strained, and struggled, to no avail. What could she do? She wasn’t feeling an urge to take a breath right now, but that would change, she was sure.

Her father had always said to consider the possibilities – what did she have? What could she do?

She had one unconscious daddy, sinking. He was heavy, but they were underwater, so he wasn’t as heavy as he usually was.

She had wings – used for flight above ground, but even then, she didn’t really have much. She still couldn’t fly on her own, she needed her wings to grow out a bit more first.

She could do… nothing! She wanted to stamp her hooves and have a tantrum – it just wasn’t fair!

Fair. Fair! What else wasn’t fair?

“Mummy, why can’t I fly?” Bright protested, flapping her wings to emphasize the point.

“Your wings aren’t big enough, sweetheart,” Radiant Sunrise said, placating, “It takes time. I didn’t fly until I was a lot older than you. Some ponies fly early, others fly later.”

“It’s not fair!” fumed Bright, stamping her hooves.

“Now, Bright – you know the rule, no tanties.”

“Sorry, mummy.”

“It’s alright. You know, being without flight for so long taught your mummy a few tricks – I can’t do this anymore, but can you flap your wings really fast?”

Bright did as instructed, getting a rapid motion of wingbeats from her little wings. “What good is this?”

“Well,” Radiant said, a knowing smile creasing the pale red Pegasus’ face, “You can’t fly like that, but you can move around a lot better – try it. Run, jump, ride a scooter while doing it. Until you can fly, that’s going to have to do. And trust me,” she confided, leaning in close, “There’s times when I wish I could still do that – can’t do it with big-pony wings, sweetheart. Do it now, while you still can.”

Do it now while you still can, her mummy had said.

Bright Eyes unfurled her little wings. She’d grown a bit since then, but she could probably still do it. She worked her wing muscles desperately, teeth clenched around her daddy’s vest.

With more flaps, they became easier, as the water was worked into a pattern dictated by her wings, and their descent was halted.

Bright Eyes’ heart soared, and she gained hope, the first pangs of needing to take a breath starting to hit her. She let some bubbles out of her mouth, like her daddy had said, and she felt a bit better.

They began to rise, a steady stream of bubbles being produced by the furious beating of her wings. She was doing it! The little foal grinned around the vest and the little bubbles of air escaping her mouth. She was such a clever pony.

The pace quickened – as she picked up momentum, the water posed less and less resistance to the foal, until she had a steady rythym going, and the water was growing brighter with every wingbeat.

Two ponies in helmets and vests waited for her – she kept going, the two ponies realizing she wasn’t stopping and racing to keep up.

She had to breathe, and letting bubbles out simply wasn’t cutting it any more – she needed air.

Don’t breathe in until you’re seeing sunlight on the surface.

Bright kept her urge to breathe in check, blowing more useless bubbles out of her mouth in frustration. She wanted to breathe. But daddy had told her what to do, and she was going to do it.

Daddy was a Safety Inspector, after all – he knew what was safe.

She looked up, and realized the surface was a lot closer than it had looked a few seconds ago.

She could do this. She had his.

======

Lanyard watched the lake surface despondently, eyes red. Bubbles came to the surface, popping, and he sighed. Hopes of salvaging this horrible accident were fading before his very eyes.

The air hoses for the divers shifted, as the ponies made movements that seemed like they were coming back up.

Already? Did they save them?

Suddenly, a new stream of bubbles began to hit the surface, creating a gentle froth, and-

WHOOSH

Like a small grey missile, a foal breached the surface of the water, mouth momentarily wide open, an orange vest’s back falling out of it as she sucked in a breath of air in a torrential rush of wind.

The crowd went wild, cheering. Small dinghys were deployed, rowing towards the foal, ready to help.

Lanyard looked at the object that had fallen out of the foal’s mouth, sinking rapidly – no wait, it was rising again.

With a rush of water, the two divers that he’d sent down there, came up, supporting…

“SCALPEL!” Lanyard shouted, excited, stamping a hoof in thanks to Celestia herself – she must have been listening.

“He’s not breathing!” one of the divers shouted, flipping open the front window of his helmet, as he dragged the bedraggled Safety Inspector over to an approaching boat. The other diver swam over to the foal, Bright Eyes, and held her as she caught her breath and grinned in triumph at seeing the sun again.

“I know CPR!” offered another pony, leaping off the boat and rapidly paddling over to the boat where the diver and the boat’s owner were laying down Scalpel Edge.

Lanyard crossed his hooves in concern.

======

Sun! Praise the sun! And that air! Couldn’t you just drink it in like lemonade?

Bright Eyes sucked in another breath of that good stuff, only vaguely aware of somepony swimming up to her, and holding her up so her head remained above water.

“He’s not breathing!” shouted somepony.

“I know CPR!” responded another, and Bright turned her head to see her father’s body being laid out on a boat. She struggled to make her way over there, to muffled cursing from beside her.

Holding her up, a pony in a helmet swore quietly as his new charge did her best to escape his grip, and flipped open his helmet’s window.

“Consarnit, girl! Sit still!”

“But, daddy!”

“He’ll be fine! Driftwood and those other two ponies got him, he’ll be fine!”

Bright looked at the diver, and he grinned reassuringly, causing her to look back at her father as the pair began to slowly move towards the boat.

She heard the diver mutter to himself, quietly.

“He’ll be fine.”

======

Driftwood looked on at the scene before him. The pony who knew CPR was doing his thing, but nothing was happening.

Deadweight was approaching, bringing the foal – not good. If she got here, in time to hear the verdict…

Celestia was probably working overtime today on the prayer front, but he sent a silent one up, anyway.

They’d need all the help they could get today.

======

The reaper of souls, the reclaimer of all, the great equalizer, sat there on the boat, watching the ponies struggle to return Scalpel Edge to the world of the living, hourglass in hoof.

If he just tipped his hoof to the side, the ‘glass would fall, and shatter, casting judgment upon the pony – but if he tipped it the other way, however…

Cheating Death was all about Pizazz. And that foal, Bright eyes – Scalpel Edge’s daughter. She’d moved heaven and hell to save her father, an impressive display of strength from one so young.

So much Pizazz. Death reaffirmed his perpetual, skeletal grin, and tipped his hoof to the side.

With a show like that, what was a few extra years? Death could wait, he’d get his pony eventually, when the time was right.

======

The CPR pony thumped away on Scalpel’s chest, muttering to himself.

“Don’t you die on me, you bastard… don’t you die… come back, damnit!”

Scalpel just responded by choking and spitting up a mouthful of water, followed by coughing and wheezing.

“Thank Celestia!” the diver proclaimed, holding up two hooves in praise momentarily before moving to help a new boarder.

Scalpel wheezed, and looked about – he wasn’t in the water any more, he was on a deck, soaked to the bone. He was alive.

But where was Bright?

“Bright! Bright!” he shouted, weakly.

“She’s right here, Mister Edge,” somepony said, and the clippity-clop of hooves filled the air, before the exhausted Scalpel was hit by a small winged weight.

“Oof! Bright?”

“Daddy!” Bright Eyes’ eyes were watering, and she hugged her father tightly, who returned the gesture. The crowds d’awwed.

Nopony saw their tears of relief against their matted coats.

======

FOAL SAVES FATHER

Mayhem at Submersible Chariot testing in Trottingham Lake

Reported by Gold Bow

In the most recent major nautical disaster to grace Equestria since the TORtanic, the maiden voyage of Sir Lanyard’s (34) Submersible Chariot met with disaster today, suffering a catastrophic systems failiure more than one hundred Lanyards beneath the surface.

The Nautical Engineer was pleased to report, however, that there was no loss of life on the parts of the two test pilots, one Safety Inspector Scalpel Edge (35) and his daughter, Bright Eyes (7).

Immediately following their escape of the sinking Submersible, one recovery diver by the name of Deadweight (28) reported seeing an “amazing sight”.

“It was amazing, she (Bright Eyes) was above her father when he ran out of air and stopped moving,” recounted the diver, “Then she turned around and swam back down to save her father – I kind of wish I had a foal to do that for me.”

This was collaborated by his partner, Driftwood (28), who added, “It was simply amazing – she pulled her father to the surface over one hundred and fifty meters, all on her own – we tried to help, but she literally just swam past us before we could react. It was all her, and everypony needs to know it.”

Despite ingesting a significant amount of water, Scalpel Edge was successfully resuscitated and is recovering with no ill effects. The inspector and his daughter are recovering at Ponyville hospital.

Despite the pair and their family not pressing any charges against Lanyard Nautical Engineering Co. an investigation is underway, and preliminary results will be forthcoming within the next few days.

What happens to Lanyard Nautical? Celestia speaks, Pg 2

The “Trottingham Lake Terror” confirmed to exist? Pg 4

======

“Look at that, front page,” Scalpel remarked, passing the newspaper to Bright, in the bed next to him, who took it.

“Equestria Daily,” she read the title of the paper, “Daddy, don’t you normally read the Canterlot Times?”

“Yes, but this is the first newspaper to run the story. We’re framing this, you know – it’s not every day a daughter saves her old sire.”

“Oh, daddy,” Bright said, waving a hoof even as she blushed, “I’m never going to forget this day. Ever.”

A soft knock on the door echoed through the room, and Scalpel grinned. “Come on in, Lanyard.”

The door opened, and the sheepish engineer walked in, bearing a bouquet of flowers, white roses and violets.

“Hi, Scalpel. Feeling better?”

“Oh, Lanyard, I’m fine – stop beating yourself up over the whole thing.”

“But it was my fault!” protested the pony, putting the flowers in a convenient vase before pulling up a chair and sinking down.

“Nopony could have guessed that a freshwater Kraken lived at the bottom of Trottingham Lake, Lanyard. And right up until then, the Submersible Chariot functioned just fine.”

“Really?”

“Really,” confirmed Bright, “It was super fun!”

“But it almost got you killed!” re-iterated Lanyard.

“Yeah, but look what I got!” Bright pulled down the sheets, exposing her flank, and –

“Hey, you got your cutie mark!” Lanyard said, his doldrums broken by the pleasant surprise.

“Yeah! It’s for holding my breath!” Bright said, proudly.

“You know she held her breath the whole way?” Scalpel said, equally proud, “I ran out of breath, but she managed to hold it until she got to the surface, Lanyard – that was over three hundred and fifty meters, swum on one breath.”

“And I never would have gotten my cutie mark if you hadn’t let me ride the Chariot,” Bright finished, “So, thank you, mister Lanyard!”

“No, you do-“ Lanyard was cut off as the foal latched onto his neck and gave him a heartfelt hug of gratitude. He sighed, and accepted the hug, returning it awkwardly as he tried to keep his balance.

“So, Lanny – what’cha doing now?” Scalpel asked, amused. “Going to rebuild the Submersible?”

“No,” Lanyard said, “I’m finished, one way or another. Kraken or no Kraken, fatalities or no, this was a disaster, and it’s all going to wind up on my shoulders. Sponsors all backed out, Celestia’s probably not too pleased…”

“Silly billy,” Bright admonished, “Stop worrying about it!”

“But I can’t!”

“I’ll hold my breath!”

“Oh, alright – what do you want me to do, Bright?”

“Come to my Cute-ceañera on Friday!”

Lanyard blushed. “Me? Come to your party?”

“Of course! You’re still a Knight of Equestria – this’ll give me another leg-up on Heartstrings! She only got a silly Wonderbolt to show up, and he was retired!”

“What she means to say,” interjected Scalpel, “Is that she’d really appreciate it if you went to her party which she’s spending with family and close friends.”

“Well, when you put it like that,” Lanyard said, chuckling, “I guess I can’t say no, can I?”

The room was filled with gentle laughter as another day passed by, minute by minute, the sun slowly setting over Trottingham Lake.

As the sun set, a single ray of light refracted off the water, and for a brief moment, in the very depths of the lake, past all the dredges, in a deep hole, what remained of the Submersible Chariot gleamed, just once more, before being tugged back into the darkness forever more.

======

“There,” Bright finished, “That’s how I got my cutie mark. Holding my breath while carrying my drowning father to safety, while underwater.”

There was no response from the darkness, just a sniff.

“Are… are you crying?”

A sniffle. “No. Not crying at all, just… had a bit of a runny nose for a moment, there.”

“You were crying – is the big, bad Assassin starting to get soft?”

“It’s perfectly acceptable for hardened killers to cry manly tears,” retorted the Assassin.

“Sure it is. I’m going to remember this, you know.”

======

Ditzy Doo walked back to the kitchen… and tripped over something.

“Mummy, are you alright?”

“I’m fine, muffin,” Ditzy assured, face in the carpet, “back to sleep.”

“’kay,” Dinky responded, before falling silent once more.

Ditzy got up, and looked at what she’d managed to trip over. A box of stuff that she’d been meaning to unpack for ages, now – it had been what, two years? And still not unpacked?

Ridiculous – now was the time. She would unpack that box, and all would be well. Also, she’d stop tripping over it every night.

She reached into the box, and pulled out a picture frame of an old, pale-purple Unicorn stallion. Daddy, Celestia rest his soul. She put it aside, to hang up at some point. She reached in again, and found a picture of a pale-red, elderly Pegasus mare. Mummy. That went on the pile as well.

The third picture… wasn’t a picture at all. It was a frame, but instead of a photo, it had a newspaper page in it.

“Foal saves father,” Ditzy read with her good eye, “Huh. Why have I got this?”

She put it aside in a second pile, and her eye roved over the article, and the picture that went with it. The caption read, ‘Lanyard Nautical pictured alongside Submersible Chariot’, and had a picture of eight ponies in black and white.

All of them were stallions wearing vests and hard-hats, except a filly in the front row, which was wearing no vest or helmet, and was mid-blink.

They looked happy, and Ditzy felt a glow of warmth from looking at the picture. Perhaps that was why she’d kept it – it was a nice photo, everypony was happy.

The article got merged into the pile, and she continued to sort old keepsakes into the night.