Chapter Four

Through the Sea to Distant Shores

The spray of the sea water against his porthole woke Spike up the next day. He had barely fallen asleep the night before, as the rocking of the boat, though comforting, was offset by the noise of the water splashing against the hull. His dreams had simply been a kaleidoscope of his friends, of books, and all sorts of building he had seen in manuscripts.

Rising from his bed with a yawn, Spike scratched his lower back as he dressed himself. Yes, he slept in the nude, though thankfully nobody had barged in on him while he dressed: morning wood was always a pain stuffing in clothes when one was as “gifted” as he was. Thankfully the "swelling" went down quickly when he thought of his task at hand and the journey he was partaking in.

Walking out of his room with a journal and locking the door behind him, the young dragon made his way past other rooms and to a common room of sorts, where ponies could sit and talk from the comfort of being below-deck. It was dark, as the lamps from last night had gone out long ago, but due his draconic heritage Spike had something no ponies had: night vision. To him, the room might have been lit by the brightest of lamps, so he walked around with nary an effort.

Settling himself in a chair with his journal, he opened it to realize he had not brought a quill and ink with him. “No matter,” he thought, remembering his lessons with the princesses. Holding up a finger, Spike gave it a small lick before turning a page. He breathed the smallest bit of flame onto the tip of a talon, the magic in the fire making his finger a veritable writing tool. Cozying up as well as he could in the chair, he began to write.

“The story begins aboard my ship, the Crowhop. There are ponies here of all kinds, from earth ponies to unicorns and pegasi, though they are the rarity among the group. Flying is quite the advantage when traveling, it seems. The captain, a good fellow, seems the journey won’t take more than two to three weeks. Given how far we’ve only come, I’d say we still have a long journey ahead of us.”

He paused for a moment, mulling over some thoughts in his head.

“The majority of the ponies traveling to Equineland seem to be those in search of work, as seen by the lumberponies, miners and a few spare crewman looking for work on another ship. I saw two rather well-dressed unicorns come aboard: merchants, perhaps? I’ll be finding out soon enough, I guess: there’ll be plenty of time to find out who all these ponies are.”

He turned the page.

“I met a rather extraordinary unicorn on board: a Miss Meia Morphos. Black hair, my height, a very pleasant shade of green for her pelt: all in all, rather stunning. She says she was going to Equineland for a vacation/adventure of sorts, but would have to sadly return upon completing it, as she couldn’t afford to see more of world. My heart went out to her, as she seemed most downtrodden at the prospect of having to return home to what I gather is a large and dysfunctional family. I offered her passage as a member of my retinue and she gladly accepted. We’ll see how things go from here on out.”

He signed his name under the writing and closed the journal, just as a few of the crew not assigned topside night watch started milling around. Ad they began lighting the lamps, Spike returned to his quarters, stashed his journal away, and went back outside, remembering to lock his door.

As he approached the communal room, he smelled something delicious wafting through the decks. “Must be breakfast,” he thought, remembering the captain Roan saying everyone was allotted a certain portion so none would go hungry. Given his ancestry, Spike could eat just about anything, including coal, rocks, gems, and to his recent amazement, wood. So as for breakfast, he would see what they had: otherwise he’d eat some refuse they were considering throwing overboard.

Walking through the communal room, he followed his nose to the back of the ship. Passing through a door, he found himself in a mess hall of sorts, complete with what looked like a small kitchen, several tables with benches for seats, and an honest-to-goodness pantry. Walking over to where a burly griffin was cooking something, Spike had a thought. Wouldn’t a wooden ship such as this catch fire if there was a kitchen fire? That was when he noticed something shimmer before him: a flame-extinguishing spell had been placed all around the cooking area.

“Ingenious,” he muttered, walking past as the griffin pulled some things out of a cupboard and unceremoniously tossed them into a boiling pot.

“Sorry, we don’t serve ‘igneous’ here,” the griffin said, turning around to get a look at Spike. “If you’ll be wanting rocks or something like that, talk to the quartermaster: they’ll be labeled under supplies.”

“Oh, I said ingenious,” Spike said politely, noticing the griffin’s tone was simply straight to the point and not brusque. At the non-plussed look, he pointed at the magical field. “Keeping the ship from catching fire should something go wrong in the kitchen: rather practical use of magic.”

“Aye, it be so,” said a voice behind him. Turning around, Spike saw the captain pick up a serving tray of sorts, like out of a school cafeteria. “Standard issue, comes wit’ every ship nowadays: safety protocols and all that stuff.”

“That’s not just an ordinary spell, Mr. Flankstrom,” Spike said, picking up a tray of his own. “That would have to have been cast by an above-average unicorn to encase the area so perfectly.”

“Aye, well, when Ferdinand Maregellan is the one doin’ the castin’, he makes sure not to skimp out on any features,” the captain said, going down a line of foods for the morning brunch. That certainly was strange: it was like a cafeteria was on the insides of a sailing ship. Times had certainly changed from the paleo-pony period: wind power and now steamboats on rivers compared to ancient oars and rows of ponies powering the ship.

“I’m sorry, Ferdinand who?” Spike asked, picking up a grilled hay and cheese sandwich. “I’ve never been to the sea until recently, so you’ll forgive me if my nautical knowledge is a tad low.”

“Aye, no harm done,” Roan replied, finishing up with his food and walking over to a bench, where he and Spike sat across from one another. “I’ll tell ya the condensed version, or we’ll be here ‘till supper. Ferdinand Maregellan was a unicorn born at sea to naval parents, a unicorn and an earth pony. From an early age he knew the signs o’ the weather like the back o’ his horn. For years he sailed with his parents, tellin’ ‘em when felt his horn a-twitchin’: that was the signal for an incomin’ gale. With this ability, he became a natural sea-pony, risin’ through the ranks in a matter o’ years, instead o’ decades. Then, as a captain for the Portucolt Navy, he served several years before serving again wit’ the Equinish Fleet, earning commendations in both. He’s survived four pirate attacks, two mutinies, three hurricanes and ‘as had five ships sink out from underneath him.”

“Quite the legend, I’ll warrant,” Spike said with a hint of awe as he ate.

“Aye, but that when he was young,” Roan continued. “After hittin’ forty, he decided to settle down. Trouble was, a unicorn with talents like his wasn’t just goin’ to step out o’ the spotlight that easy. So he became a craftsman for ship-builders in Equineland, castin’ spells such as the one you noticed. Earns plenty enough to take care o’ himself and his family, too.”

“Did you ever serve under him?” Spike asked, taking another bite of his breakfast sandwich.

“Aye, once or twice: it was long ago, when I was still a cabin-pony aboard a ship o’ his.” Roan didn’t say anything after that, the glazed over look in his eyes telling Spike the salty old sea-pony was reliving memories in his head. Excusing himself after finishing up, he placed his tray in the wash bin and went topside, where he saw the other pony he was looking for.

“So, Meia, have you any thoughts on what you would like to see when we get to Equineland?” Spike asked, sitting down next to her on the bench. It creaked slightly under their combined weight, as all wooden benches were inclined to do, but not by much.

She was silent for a moment. “I did want to see the White Cliffs of Roaner,” she said, looking out over the ocean. “I hear they are a spectacular sight.”

“Then we’ll see them,” Spike said, knowing it wouldn’t be any trouble to go see the cliffs. He wasn’t supposed to stay in Equineland long, but then again he hadn’t the foggiest idea what he was going to do there anyway. Of all the lands across the Barnlantic, Equineland was perhaps the most known to Celestia and Luna, though that was an exception. The only other one that came close was Prance, and it wasn’t exactly known for welcoming foreigners. The king, only recently crowned a few years ago, still had problems with some of the barons who looked out only for themselves. Through his journey there, if Spike could avoid them, then so much the better.

“So what were you planning on doing in Equineland?” Meia asked, snapping Spike out of his reverie.

“Oh, see some sights, pick up some more supplies, magically send back things to my friends,” Spike rattled off aimlessly.

“Magically send them back?” Meia asked, arching an eyebrow. "But you're a dragon..."

“Yes, it would seem impossible for such a creature as myself to do this, given a penchant for my species' fire-breathing capabilities.. However, that is where most ponies would be wrong: a dragon’s breathe can also be used to transport objects across innumerable distances in the blink of an eye,” Spike said. “This way I can keep in contact with my friends and send them some of the things they had asked me about. Of course, I’ll still have to get a camera when we land.”

He glanced over his shoulder, but suddenly seized up. “Get down!” he shouted, grabbing Meia and pulling her to the deck. Before she could say a word of protest or outrage, one of the pulley ropes swung where her head had been, the large metal piece moving at a speed that would have taken her head clean off. They lay there before separating awkwardly, more so on Meia’s part than Spike’s.

“You okay down there?” a voice called from the rigging.

“Yeah, we’ll be fine,” Spike replied, getting up and then helping Meia to her hooves. “You all right?”

The unicorn huffed. “Yeah, I’ll be fine: fine enough to spend the rest of the day below decks,” she said, her tone angry and shocked. She had almost died: almost died. All of her plans would have been for nothing, and her kingdom would have been without its rightful ruler. It would have fallen into chaos, anarchy, as the most powerful of her underlings would have vied for control. Chaos and disorder were not the ways of her people: iron-hoofed rule and a desire to expand were the qualities instilled in the newer generations. All of that would have been undone with her death.

“Well, I agree it would be safer down there,” Spike said, snapping her out of her thoughts as he looked around. The sun was still rising, so maybe going down and chatting with other passengers wasn’t such a bad idea: much safer than staying up above. Clouds dotted the eastern horizon, blurring the line between sea and sky as Spike and Meia went below-decks.

Spike plopped down in a chair, which were surprisingly comfortable, given this was supposed to be a vessel of modest means. He looked over at Meia, who had sat down in one as well, her eyes staring at the floor.

“You okay?” he asked, knowing surviving a near-death experience like she had would take time to recover from.

“Y-Yes,” she said, a bit hesitantly at that. Right now her mind was off somewhere else, torn between anger at herself for not sensing the danger, and part embarrassment that he had saved her life after only knowing her for a day.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Spike whispered quietly, as they weren’t exactly sitting very far apart.

“N-No, I’ll be fine,” she said, her voice becoming a bit steadier. “I just need to unwind is all.”

“Your choice,” Spike said, leaning back in the chair. He was not about to press the issue, and frankly, he was at least glad she hadn’t just fallen to pieces after that experience. She was made of tougher stuff than she seemed, this Meia Morphos.

So they sat that way for the longest time, not saying a word. Spike was wrapped up in his thoughts on where to go after Equineland. He was going through Portucolt and into Spain, though where was a mystery...

Just then, he felt a small hiccup come up from his stomach. Opening his mouth, a small tongue of green flame shot forth, forming into a scroll. Catching it to the surprise of passerby, he opened it and read it to himself.

“Dear Spike, I hope your journey has been going well thus far. As the one who arranged where you will be going, I felt it necessary to help you find the path through which you will travel through these countries. Once you arrive in Spreign, you’ll be staying with the Almareconraddo Del Rivioso family, lords of Maragon, for a week or so. Be sure to be on your best behavior, my young dragon friend. Keep in touch: Luna.”

“Hmm,” Spike muttered, pocketing the small scroll in his shirt. “Well, that solves one problem of what we’re going to do in Spreign.”

He leaned back in the chair once more, only to be thrown forward all of a sudden as the ship lurched to one side. Meia was soon thrown too by another lurch, landing in a heap atop him: cries of surprise from all around meant the other passengers had lost their balance as well.

“Uh, Meia, you can get off me,” Spike said, his word’s muffled by Meia’s stomach. He soft fur was poking through the split in her shirt where the buttons fastened together: he might sneeze if she didn't remove herself quickly.

“Sorry,” she said, getting off before her cheeks grew hot with embarrassment: against her will, at that. “What in Equestria was that?”

“I don’t know, but it couldn’t have been good,” Spike said, rising to his feet. Just then, Roan Flankstrom came down from the deck, soaking wet from head to hoof.

“Rogue waves!” he shouted, causing everyone to look up at him. “Gale coming in out of the east like a demon from hell! All crew: man your stations! Passengers get to your cabins!” Crew rushed past everyone one way, while the other passengers began a mad dash back to their own cabins. That was, except for Meia, who was caught up by the pressing bodies of the crew and hauled outside.

“Meia!” Spike shouted, rushing up after her in time to see a wave wash over the side. The now-pounding rain made it hard to see, but Spike’s keen dragon eyes made up for that. Several crewmen slipped from the wave’s force, and one pony in particular was carried far to the other side. “Meia, I’m coming!” Spike shouted, rushing over as best he could on the rocking ship. He ducked as one of the poles attached to the rigging swung his way, missing him by mere inches. Another wave crashed over the side, soaking him to the bone as the winds whipped around him. Blinking through the biting wind, he saw the unicorn holding onto the railing, about to fall into the water. Her expression was that of pure terror.

Leaping forward while using his wings to give him an extra boost, Spike threw out his hand in time to catch Meia’s, just as she fell. Holding her, he started to pull her back onto the ship.

“Behind you!” she shouted. The dragon turned in time to see a colossal wall of water crash into the side of the ship, sending a veritable surge across the deck.

“OH SH-,” he said but never finished as his footing was lost and they both went soaring over the edge, still holding each other’s hands. They lost contact with one another right before they hit the water.

Spike sunk like a stone, the water around him rather calm when compared to the turbulent waters above him. For a few seconds he just lay there, submerged and confused. Getting his act together, he realized that even though as a dragon he could hold his breath longer than any pony, he'd still drown unless he reached the surface. Swimming as best he could, with his wings acting like the fins of a manta ray, he burst to the surface, pausing to look around.

“MEIA!” he shouted after taking in a deep breath of salt-tinged air, looking this way and that. Another breath got him a mouthful of salt water, causing him to cough and gasp. The Crowhop was facing the wind, so for the moment it hadn't gone anywhere. If it had been traveling with the wind, or even perpendicular to it, he would have been truly SOL.

“SPIKE!” a voice sounded in the gloom. Peering around, Spike saw the unicorn clinging to the side of the ship, though he could tell she was barely hanging on.

“I’m coming! Hold on!” he shouted, but that last part did little to help her. Her hands let go, and with her hooves facing the sky, she fell back down to the sea as the ship lurched upwards over another colossal wave. Amidst all the chaos of the storm, her entry into the ocean left barely a splash.

Spike dove under after her as the Crowhop came crashing back down, the depth to which he had swum barely eclipsing the depth to which the ship sank into the water. Peering around in the gloom, he saw the unicorn sinking further downward: his wings swiftly propelled him to her side. Looking up after gathering her in his arms, Spike pumped his wings as hard as he could, rocketing up through the water. He breathed out as he rose, his lungs expanding due to the change in pressure.

With a splash similar to that of an erupting geyser, he burst from the water. The sheer force of his wings' power propelled him and his unconscious cargo through the air and back onto the main deck of the ship, with his wings acting as sails to prevent his landing from being a painful one.

Getting off the deck as quickly as he could, Spike carried Meia back into the common room and lay her down, checking for signs of life. She had a pulse, but she wasn’t breathing. Tilting her head back, he began to administer CPR: two breaths followed by thirty chest compressions. He continued this for a minute until water came from the unicorn’s mouth: her eyes opened and she gasped, coughing up more water. Gently, he turned her onto her side, so as to aid in the process of expelling water from her lungs.

After a few more minutes of this, he patted her on the back. “Are you okay?” he asked, watching as she managed to perform a spell that completely expelled the remaining water from her lungs. Thankfully she had managed to do that, or else he'd have to bring her back to her cabin (which he didn't know the location of) on a rocking boat like this, where he could easily trip and fall on the way there.

“I’ve been better,” she said with a hoarse voice. “Thank you for saving me: again.”

“Hey, what kind of dragon would I be if I didn’t come to the rescue?” Spike asked with a small smile, trying to ease the tension.

“Still, it was very gallant of you,” she said, taking deep breaths to put oxygen back into her blood stream. “Though I must ask: why did you save me? You could have died out there.”

“I’m not one to sit by and watch someone die,” Spike said, helping her to her hooves. “Saving someone else’s life is part of my dragon code: I couldn’t go against it, even if they didn’t want to be saved.”

Meia was silent for a moment as she wrung the water out of her mane. Her clothes were sopping wet, as were Spike’s, and right now she was too exhausted to try and perform any magic that could dry them. “We’d best get back to our quarters,” she said, not sure which part of her was saying this.

“All right: be safe,” Spike said, giving her a sudden hug. Letting go just as suddenly, he walked off, unknowingly leaving a shocked Meia/Chrysalis standing there. Her eyes were glazed over for a few seconds, as if lost in thought, before she turned and walked to her quarters on the other side of the ship.

Shutting her door and striping off her soaking clothes, she hung them to dry on various hooks in her cabin. Weary from the exhaustion and near-death experience, she lay down on her cot. Inside her head, though, her thoughts were anything but weary: more like a kaleidoscope of ideas and confusion. Sure he had saved her twice already, one from blunt force trauma and now from drowning, but things like that could be discounted in the grand scheme of things. He was nothing to her: a mere tool she would acquire and use, and then discard, as she had so many others.

Then why was her heart, a normally cold and shriveled thing, shivering with warmth at the hug he had given her?
So for two more weeks, Meia kept to her quarters and the below-decks of the ship, rarely if ever coming topside: it was safer that way. Spike walked wherever the captain allowed him, with the two of them becoming good friends. Roan would show him maps and the equipment ships would use to traverse the oceans and seas of the world, while Spike showed him the magical properties of dragon fire. Every night or so Spike would go to the captain's quarters and listen to tales of the sea, though the one about Roan seeing a mer-pony felt a bit far-fetched, to be honest.

The rest of the journey passed without much more excitement, save for the sighting of the shores of Equineland. Spike looked out over the sea from of the ship, the sun shining on his scales and spines. He watched as the ship sailed into port, past countless other frigates, fishing boats and galleons loaded with cargo. He even helped a few of the crew unload the planks so everyone could get off the ship safely: he was even paid a small bag of gold coins for helping the merchant unicorns unload some of their cargo.

The captain was the last to bid him goodbye. “It was a pleasure having you aboard, Master Spike,” he said, sweeping his hat off with a bow. “If you’ll ever be needin’ passage back to Equestria, just say the word and the Crowhop is yours.”

“Thank you, Captain Flankstrom,” Spike replied, giving a deep bow of his own. “I shall keep that in mind.”

With Meia not far behind him, Spike set off through the streets of the small Equinish village that had such an unnaturally large port coming off of it. Signaling a carriage, Spike and Meia marveled at its design, as the magical carriage moved without physical input by its driver. Telling the stallion who placed the spell on the carriage where they were headed, the duo loaded the few supplies they had purchased into a secondary compartment and entered the marvelous contraption. Soon enough they had left the small coastal village behind them and were traveling through the pleasant countryside, with green hills and farms and all sorts of small villages dotting the landscape. Small bridges passed over delightful-looking streams and brooks, where fish splashed in the mid-day sun.

After traveling the rest of the day, to where the sun’s rays were once again disappearing on the distant western horizon, they had arrived at their destination: the White Cliffs of Roaner.

“Here we are,” Spike said, stepping out of the carriage and offering a hand to Meia, who tentatively accepted it. Together they walked to the cliffs, upon where Spike set down a large blanket for them both to sit on. He himself would have been fine with grass, but it felt more gentlemanly and sophisticated to lay down something soft for the unicorn. He sat down in his new clothes, a casual suit of sorts, courtesy of a tailor in the village offering deals to new arrivals. Spike's of course had been custom-made, as his wings needed padded slits in the back so they could poke through. Meia herself was in a new dress he had bought her, red as a fire ruby: she looked rather stunning, to be honest.

They sat in silence for a while on the small jutting piece of terrain, staring out at the cliffs to their sides. It truly was an awe-inspiring sight: great white edifices ranging up and down the coastline as far as the eye could see, the brilliance of them a stark contrast against the green hills they supported and the blue seas they bordered.

“Well, is it everything you thought it would be?” Spike asked, looking over at Meia. Her eyes were locked on the distant cliffs as if trying to memorize them.

“No,” she said. Spike felt his stomach drop a bit before she spoke again. “It is even more so.” She looked at him with a sweet smile on her face as she placed one hand over his. “Thank you, Spike: thank you for helping me see what I’ve only dreamed of.”

She gave his hand a squeeze, and he gave her a small squeeze in return. "The journey isn't over yet, Meia," he replied with a smile. "There is so much more to see." So they sat there, not saying another word, until the sunlight truly faded from the skies and stars began to twinkle above them. Leaving the cliffs, they took the waiting carriage to a small inn, where they stayed the night: in separate rooms, of course.

Well, Meia did linger a bit outside Spike’s door before she went to bed, her mind swirling with thoughts. “There is still yet time to make him yours,” her head said. Her heart, though, said something else entirely: it wanted her to go in that room and thank him, to be close to him. Very, very close to him indeed.

“I will not be ruled by emotions,” Chrysalis told herself, feeling unnerved that she was even feeling these things. She was Queen of the Chagelings, not some common tart who would just throw herself at a handsome dragon, no matter how many times he'd saved her life. “The plan will come together when I say so.” Walking away, she went to her room and closed the door, shedding her outer clothes and dressing in a soft nightgown. Still, when she lay down to sleep, she slept better than she had since that first night after Spike had saved her from a watery grave.

It bugged her to no end.

Author's Notes:

Ah, done with the Barnlantic and onto jolly old Equineland! Break out the tea and biscuits!

Just kidding: also, before anyone says anything, i just became a certified lifeguard, and yes, I know how to perform CPR.