[b]One year ago… [/b] 

"You know, I'm still amazed that you still believe in sea ponies."

Vast and Charter were leaving the Startide Tavern, the moon was high in the sky and the streets quiet. The bars were lit dimly as patrons continued to sing songs and drink ale. It was a warm night, which the slaves were thankful for. The port hid the misery of the pens with a large white wall, imprisoning the slaves and keeping the populace blind. But for unicorns, the Moon and Stars was the safest place in Equestria. Crime was less common, and one did not have to worry about the Cult as much. And if one avoid from being too noticeable, they could escape the vigilance of Twilight's Inquisition. For the free, it was a better place to live than anywhere else. 

Vast face was red, her lids half closed over flimsy eyes. She swayed sideways, and Charter made sure she didn't fall. She had a bit too much strong cider that night, and her brother always took her home. He never did drink, though she suspected that Charter took after their father and had little tolerance for it. Vast could drink with even the most hardened of Sailors, much like their mother. 

She burped and wiped her mouth. "Yeah, that was good stuff. But I always thought you were skeptical of the Sailor's yarns." 

Charter smiled, "That's only because seamares love to exaggerate, turning their stories into larger than life spectacles. The reality of sea life is hard and rather mundane mostly, if mom's tales are accurate." He chuckled. "And even then she couldn't resist adding embellishments."

Ever since foalhood, Charter still remembered the many legends of the Sea Ponies. When his mother was back from her voyages, she would stay up all night with her six children. She would engage them with the stories of how the Sea Lord created the Sea Ponies, of the Legend of Greenstar and Waterstone, the Battle of the Two Dragons, and the tragic Hunt of the Leviathan. Now older, the journeystallion surveyor listened with keen ears to any mention of the Ponies of the Depths. 

"Ok… but (hip) but no pony has gathered any proof of the sea folk. Most ponies just think they're myth."

"So was said of Nightmare Moon, and there was truth in that. Even if there wasn't any clear photographs or captured specimens, there were still plenty of legends. There has to be some reality backing them. " 

"Ha ha. But a fear the reality is going… to be disappointing. Probably just manatees." 

"You know, for an artist you're not very romantic." Charter looked at the sea. "Look at it, the oceans of the world. These waters are your namesake, sis. The waters are far reaching, and they cover many abysses. Somewhere, out in those depths, great wonders await for those brave enough to search them."

"Hmmmm… so thinking about finding those Sea Ponies? Ha ha ha, we've never been on a boat, and you want to explore the oceans for a dream," she muttered. "We have far more important things to do than tha-". She leaned to the side and vomited. 

Sighing, Charter nodded, helped his sister regain her bearings, and continued over to the Gem's home. Young Shining Gem would be up reading by the fireside. Her mother Shore would have prepared a bed for Vast and rasberry tea for him…

Charter awoke in the middle of the night. Shivering, he placed his hoofs over his head, eyes closed tightly. His body was drenched in sweat, even without a blanket and the windows open to the sea. For many minutes he sat there in the dark, trying to regain his wits. 

[i] There's nopony here, other than Vast. And she's a drunken stupor. Don't let your mind fool you [/i] he thought. [i] He's not here, that pony is not here, was never here to begin with. [/i] He curled up into a ball. [i] Calm down, relax or you'll hyperventilate again. Forget, forget… [/i]

But the dream he did not easily forget, and he slept no more that night. He could still see the mocking face, grinning. A jeering voice. The dark underground and the sounds of battle outside. Yet he was alone, alone, alone…

He opened his eyes, and saw Vast laying beside him. She returned to sleep, but she had her head resting on his side. The dread voice and face disappeared. Vast was the refuge he needed, the strong pillar that kept him sane.