A Whole New World

Captain Bright Skies stood by a window of the airship, looking down onto the charred wreck of the convoy. All this trouble because of those three wagons? It almost hadn't seemed worth the effort to ambush them.

The airship passed over the wreckage and headed towards the wadi to the south that Dutch had reported they had been holding their position in. As the wadi got closer, the airship descended. With a heavy thump, it hit the ground, and Bright Skies was out in a second, closely followed by the rest of her squad.

“Gold, this is Star 1, we've arrived at the wadi.”

“Copy, Star 1,” came Wingfleet’s voice, “The last transmission from Captain Jones was from that area. That was almost 18 hours ago. Proceed east towards the LZ and report any signs of the Captain’s location. If you find Captain Jones or Guardsman Shadow Breeze, report in, and we’ll send an airship for extraction. Good luck.”

“Solid copy, Star 1 out.”

The squad got in formation and entered the wadi, making their way forward and looking for signs of the patrol. It wasn't long before they had found them: scorch marks, crossbow bolts, and small, brass tubes that Bright Skies knew came out of Dutch’s weapon. She followed the signs of battle until one of the ponies behind her called out. Trotting over to where he stood, Bright Skies saw horseshoe prints in the sand that hadn't come from her squad, along with the longer, patterned imprint of boots.

Searching around the area of the prints, the search and rescue team managed to find signs of disturbed earth and rock leading up to the rim of the wadi. Bright Skies followed them onto the open plains and sighed as they disappeared, blown away by the wind.

She checked her compass, making sure it was pointing east, before looking back out at the desert and sighing, “I guess we're going this way,” she mumbled. Getting lost wasn't an issue; each of them had been given enchanted gems that showed their location on a map back at Gold, and the range was fairly impressive.

She gave a few hoof-signals to her squad before climbing out of the wadi and setting out across the desert, determined to find the lost patrol.

The first thing I noticed as I woke up was the distinct lack of light. Almost immediately, my mind began racing. Had I overslept? How would I know which way to go now?

I tried to sit up, but winced when I felt a throbbing pain on my jaw. It felt like someone had hit me with an iron pole. As I began to look at my surroundings, my heart rate spiked, and I became on edge. The walls were darker than they had been, and there was no sign of the entrance. The only thing I could see was a dim orange light through cracks in a door.

The bitter truth hit me like a brick wall. I’d been captured.

My hands had been bound tightly by thick rope. I began panicking over what the Diamond Dogs would do to me. Torture was something I didn't want to think about. They had been taking slaves recently, so maybe that was what would happen; they’d send me to work in their mines. Or they might just kill me because I was with the ponies. For some reason, between torture and death, the latter seemed preferable.

I looked myself over, and found that the dogs had stripped me of my possessions. My shirt, armour, boots and weapons were gone, as well as the bandage covering my face. Luckily, I was still wearing my trousers, and the resistance I felt in my broken wing told me that the other bandage was still there. It must have been camouflaged in the white of the feathers.

My pockets had been emptied too. My busted Ipod and webbing had been removed. Frantically, I put my hand against my other pocket, and sighed with relief; they hadn't found the photo of my friends.

Before I could inspect it, there was a heavy clunk of metal, and the door the light had been leaking through opened. All I could see was the silhouette of a Diamond Dog, looking down at me. He turned his head and barked into the room he had just left, before walking over and picking me up.

He dragged me into the other room and tossed me on the ground. I could sense the presence of other dogs around me, and I heard one pair of feet come to a halt just in front of my head.

“You are an interesting find,” said the owner of the feet, “I was almost unsure of what to do with you when we found you.”

A pair of arms grabbed my shoulders and lifted me to my knees. I looked up to see what I assumed was the Alpha of this pack. His coat was a chestnut brown, and his chest was a bronze colour. His arms were long, and about a thick as tree trunks with muscle bulging under every inch of skin. His face had a wolfish grin plastered on it.

“You seem to me like some sort of soldier. You’re certainly equipped like one,” he continued, “Some of the other packs said they saw something like you working with those ponies.”

He grabbed my jaw and pulled me closer, “Why are you out here? You had a mission didn't you? What was it?”

I said nothing. If these dogs were looking for answers, they definitely weren't going to get them from me. The only thing I did was match the Alpha’s icy stare.

“You know keeping silent won’t help you,” the Alpha said, his voice softer, “Listen. If you help us, we can help you.”

So he was trying the soft approach? It still wouldn't change my decision. Even if I wanted to tell them, I wouldn't be much use to them after I’d given them what they wanted.

The Alpha sighed and stood up, “Very well. If you won’t give me what I want to know, I’ll simply have to force it out of you. Togin, fifty lashes, now!”

A Diamond Dog with ginger fur picked me up the rope on my wrists and dragged me over to a wooden post. He raised me up and set the ropes on some kind of hook, while another pair of dogs pulled my wings open, leaving me to hang with me bare back exposed. I winced as the broken limb was pulled, but tried to hide my pain. The last thing I needed was them finding a weakness they could exploit. I heard the sound of something swishing through the air, before the whip cracked against my back.

I had to admit, it stung like a bitch.

Nevertheless, I told myself that they would have to try a lot harder than that. Each lash came as viciously as the last, but I closed my eyes, clenched my teeth and kept telling myself that there would be an end to it soon. I felt warm tears of pain rolling down my cheeks, the salt stinging the cuts on my face.

Eventually, the lashings stopped, and I was lifted off the hook. It took everything I had to stay standing, but a forceful shove from ‘Togin’ knocked back onto the ground. My back felt like it had been burned, and the air felt cool on the parts where the skin was tender or split.

“We will continue this until you tell us,” the Alpha said, “We can make it end right now. I don’t understand why you won’t say anything.”

I rose to my knees and looked up at the Alpha. He had a look of slight impatience on his face, and I decided to insult him further. I managed to force a grin at him, before collecting a ball of saliva and spitting at the Alpha’s feet.

The Alpha recoiled slightly, before wrapping a paw around my throat and lifting me to my feet. I could feel his claws digging into my neck as he snarled and backhanded me across the face, rupturing the deep cuts I’d sustained from the shrapnel. My symbol of disrespect had only resulted in more pain, but the fact that the spit had landed on the Alpha’s foot made it totally worth it.

The Alpha had some strength behind his strike, and in my dizzied state, I heard him whisper, “You will regret that,” before shouting at his packmates, “Put him in the mines, we might as well make him useful. And keep him alive, I want what he knows.”

A pair of dogs picked me up and dragged me out of the room. Fresh blood was running down my face, and my back was still burning, but, like everything else, I put it at the back of my mind and let myself get carried to wherever I was being taken. It was a few minutes before I was let go, and I could hear what I assumed were other slaves muttering as I picked myself up.

“Look at this fresh meat,” said a voice above me. Great, only five words out of this guy’s mouth and I’m already not liking him. I slowly looked around at the other slaves around me. They consisted of Diamond Dogs and griffins. I didn't see any ponies, which somehow made me feel better.

“So what are you supposed to be?” said one of the slave dogs, who turned out to be the source of the first voice, “You look like some sort of shaved monkey to me.”

The rest of the group around me laughed, leading me to believe that they were simply cronies for this dog. I stared at him and said, “Piss off. I've got no time for you.”

“Oh ho, the monkey thinks he’s a tough guy.” the dog said with a smug grin.

I pushed him away, “Probably a damn sight tougher than you, fleabag.”

He seemed taken aback by my reply, but didn't back down, “What? Do you know who I am?”

“Do I look like I care?”

“Stupid creature. Don’t talk to me like that. The pack may be in charge, but down here, you belong to me.”

“Correction,” I said through gritted teeth, “I belong to no one, and I’ll talk however I want to you. Now why don’t you run along with your little posse and get the hell out of my face.”

The dog the seemed to be the leader of this little group made a swing at me. It was slow and telegraphed, and it took no effort to block it. Angered that he had missed, he tried again. This time, instead of blocking, I ducked under it and flattened my palm before chopping into his neck, under the jaw. I hoped my knowledge of the human anatomy had also passed over into Equestria.

It seemed to work. As soon as my hand made contact, the dog went rigid and collapsed into the dirt. He lay there for a few seconds, before blinking a few times with a look of shock and confusion on his face. As he tried to get his senses back, I brought my foot down on his muzzle for good measure.

“And fucking stay down!”

Before I could revel in my small victory, I heard the crack of a whip, followed by a sharp pain across my back, along with a furry paw punching into my stomach. I joined the dog on the ground, wincing in pain.

“Creature not useful here. Will fight too much,” I heard a voice say, “Put him with freak-dog.”

“But those tunnels cursed,” said another dog, “We might not return.”

“Do it! Or I’ll rip out your tongues.” said a third voice, which I recognised as the Alpha, “I am in no mood for you whelps.”

A pair of strong paws picked me up on each arm and dragged me through the cave. As they carried me, I began to wonder who this ‘freak-dog’ was. If I was unlucky, it would be some stereotypical tough-guy that all prisons had. I began to imagine a ten-foot tall Diamond Dog that smashed people to a pulp if they so much as looked at them funny, and involuntarily shuddered.

If I was lucky... well, I didn't know how my luck could get much better right now.

After being dragged for a minute longer, I heard a door open, and one of the dogs carrying me shouted, “Freak! You have guest.” before tossing me in and slamming the door shut. The room was dimly lit, with a single lantern giving an orange glow to the walls.

There was a dull thud as something heavy was dropped, and I heard footsteps approaching. As I was expecting another pair of strong paws to grab me, I was surprised when they instead gently supported my arm and hoisted me to my feet. I blinked furiously as a drop of blood entered my eye.

“Relax. Take deep breaths, my friend,” said a calm voice. It was quiet, not a whisper like Fluttershy, but no louder than it needed to be. It also had what sounded like a slight Russian accent, “Your wounds tell me you have been put through many trials, but still, the Korral have little compassion for their prisoners.”

After resting my hands on my knees and regaining my breath, I raised my head to look at the source of the voice. At a glance, I would have dismissed the creature before me as a skinny Diamond Dog, but after my brain processed this dog’s appearance, I sensed that there was more to it than that.

Unlike the Diamond Dogs, who had large torsos, thick arms and short, stumpy legs, this dog looked more... human. His arms were a similar size to mine, and his legs were longer, with a human knee, but a canine ankle. The torso too, was a realistic size for the rest of his body. His back, ears and arms were a light shade of brown, while his face, chest, legs and the tip of his tail were white. He stood a few inches taller than me, and his face was sharp, with a long snout and ears that pointed up in the air. He wore a pair of tattered trousers, and I could see both muscle and bone under his skin on his chest.

As I collected myself, the door was opened again and a dog threw a mattock into the room. He looked at the both of us, simply said, “Dig.” and slammed the door behind him. My new cellmate returned to the opposite wall and picked up a pick of his own. He gave a few swings at the wall, before turning back to me, “It is not wise to ignore their orders.”

“Screw that!” I retorted, “I’m not doing shit for them.”

The dog raised his eyebrow at me, and said, “Judging by the tone of your voice, I will assume that you are refusing?”

“Yeah.” I growled.

He sighed, before looking back at the wall, “I may not know who or what you are, friend, but what I do know is that nobody in their right mind takes pleasure from pain. If you disobey orders, the Korral will lash you, and I doubt they will be as merciful as they were to you just now.”

After a moment of considering his words, I thought, Fuck it. Might as well play along, especially if it means less pain. I picked up the mattock and joined him by the wall. After watching his form, I raised it and began to chip away at the stone.

“So what are we looking for?” I asked, aggression still evident in my voice.

“The only thing they care for,” the dog replied calmly, not taking his eyes off the wall, “Gems. They have no preference of what you find, but you must have something to give to them by day’s end. If we have nothing, punishment can be severe.”

“Anything else they’ll lash us for?” I said.

“The list is too long to remember without experience, but many of them involve disrespecting the pack. Speaking without permission, disobeying orders, fighting. Never try to steal gems you find, that is a death sentence. There was a griffin who was brought here a month ago. He tried to hide a sapphire under his wing,” he suddenly sighed, “His remains were shared among the prisoners as a harsh reminder.”

I was surprised at how open this dog was being, and suddenly had a pang of guilt for shouting at him when I had been thrown in here. I looked over at him, and saw a hint of sadness on his face as he stared at the wall, slowly picking at the stone. It remained silent for a few minutes, and during that time I started to calm down. I chose my words carefully before deciding to speak again.

“Hey,” I said, “Sorry about my hostility just now. It’s been a rough few days, and I saw you and simply assumed you were just like them.” I gestured at the door, “I was too quick to judge, and for that, I apologise.”

The dog paused, before a small smile appeared, “Your sincerity is appreciated. And do not worry; the other prisoners have already related me to those traitors, though you are the first to make amends for it,” he put down his mattock and stuck a paw in my direction, “Perhaps we can start anew. My name is Kamots, of the Sandpaw clan.”

I shook his paw, “Dutch.”

He nodded before looking me up and down for a few seconds. When he realised I was still looking at him, he said, “Forgive me. You are a peculiar creature, and I have never seen something like you before.”

“That’s understandable,” I said, “My species is called the humans. There are only two of us, and we both live in Equestria. I’m not surprised you didn't know what I am.”

“Only two?” Kamots asked, confused, “What became of the rest of your kind?”

“They’re out there, somewhere,” I said, sitting down against the wall. I chose to avoid the explanation of them being in another plane of existence, “Further away than I can imagine. I don’t know what my family and friends are doing. I know they’re alive; we've kept in touch. But the last time I spoke to them, they told me to stop contacting them.”

“Why not go back to them?”

“It’s difficult to explain, but simply put, I can’t. I’m stuck here.”

“You miss them?”

“Of course. I've known them all my life.”

“I apologise,” Kamots asked, joining me as he sat down, “I should not have ventured that deep.”

“It’s fine,” I replied, “They told me to move on, not think about them with sadness. Maybe one day I will.”

Hoping to change the subject, I said, “What about you? You don’t strike me as an ordinary Diamond Dog.”

“You would relate me to the Korral?” Kamots asked, giving me a look of surprise and annoyance.

“Is that what you call the dogs?” I asked, “And to answer your question, you are both canine in appearance.”

“Hmph, I suppose,” he answered with a scoff, “My kind is called the Tymari. We live in the lands of Zebrica, east of your Equestria.”

“I suppose that explains why I haven’t seen one of you before either.” I said.

“Yes,” he said, “A long time ago, the Tymari were a proud and fierce race. We trained ourselves from birth to fight and defend our homes from anyone who tried to take away what was ours. Our armies were some of the strongest that ever existed. The males trained to be the best they could be, and passed that knowledge onto their sons, while the females raise and care for the children should the father leave or fall in battle.”

“You remind me of a group of ancient humans called Spartans,” I said. When I got a blank stare from Kamots, I said, “Don’t worry. That’s a good thing.”

He chuckled, and continued his story, “Well, that’s what it used to be. Everything changed 2000 years ago,” he paused, “There was a war. A terrible war with an enemy that matched our ancestors’ skill with sheer destructive power. They destroyed our armies, turned friends against each other, and drove the Tymari to the brink of extinction. If it were not for the intervention of your Equestrian princesses, I would not be standing here today.”

“Wait, Celestia and Luna saved your species?” I asked, amazed at such a history.

“They did. The stories of what they did have been passed down for generations, and we respect the ponies for their sacrifice.”

“How did your species recover? I've never known a sentient race to lose so many of its population.”

Kamots sighed, “We never truly did. Tymari females cannot give birth very often, and there are always the dangers of Zebrica’s deserts. Even now, I doubt that there is more than two million of my kind alive today.”

Christ, I thought, They must have really suffered, “So what happened after the war?”

“In the darkest hours of the war, when our forces were decimated, our ancestors took to hiding from our enemies. It was cowardly, to run and hide, but they had no choice. Caves and old mines became their greatest ally; they could conceal themselves in the darkness. After the war, some of our kind suggested they return to the surface, to begin anew. Most of the clans agreed, but there were others who wanted to stay. They were convinced there was no way back for our kind, that the world they knew was gone.

“They stayed, while the rest returned to the surface. The ones who stayed were wrong; our ancestors rebuilt what they had lost, and, despite everything we had sacrificed, we stood victorious. Even with this knowledge, the others remained underground, set in their ways. This was how it would be for the rest of time, and a life of living underground, crawling through the earth, twisted them into what they are now.”

“The Korral.” I concluded.

“Yes.”

“Have the Tymari ever tried to make peace?”

“Many times, but we have never been successful. They have forgotten their ancestry, what it means to be a Tymari. I do not care for them anymore. You heard their insults when they tossed you in here like a piece of meat; I am but a freak to them. ”

“Just because they treat you with contempt doesn't mean you should do the same.”

“You do not understand.” Kamots replied, “They do not share our wishes for peace. They care only for themselves; any contact from our kind has been met only with violence.”

As he finished his sentence, his ear twitched and he turned his head to the door. I hadn't heard anything, but Kamots had quickly jumped to his feet and grabbed his mattock.

“Get up, quickly!” he hissed. Not wanting to ignore sound advice, I picked up my mattock and began to chip at the wall again. Within seconds of me starting to dig again, the door opened and a Diamond Dog poked his head through. I could feel his eyes staring at me for a few seconds, before he grunted and closed the door.

“We should continue digging,” Kamots said, “We have wasted too much time talking.”

As nice as it was to talk to the only company I had, I had to agree with him. The lashing I’d received when I had woken up had hurt, and I was in no hurry to experience it again. Without further ado, I focused on the wall. Swinging the mattock sent painful jolts along my arms and back, and spending so long without food was taking its toll. I wondered how long I would be spending here. Maybe the Royal Guard were looking for the patrol, although I had no idea how far underground I was. It was likely that I wouldn't be found if I simply stayed here.

As the dogs had taken my watch, I had lost track of time. But it must have been about an hour before I managed to break off a large chunk of rock, revealing a small red stone.

“Hey Kamots, I think I've found something.”

He took a glance at the gem, and said, “Good. Use the tool in your pouch to remove the stone around it, then pull it out.”

I looked down to see a small pouch hanging from my trousers. I reached inside and took out a small piece of metal that ended in a thick, sharp hook. I began to scrape at the stone surrounding the gem, and was rewarded when it began to shift. After five minutes of this, I gave the gem a tug, and it came loose. It was a ruby, the size of a golf ball. When it was embedded in the stone it had looked dull and dirty, but now that it was out, it glimmered in the orange firelight.

“Put it in the sack with the others.” Kamots said. I opened a nearby sack and dropped it among a handful of other gems that I assumed Kamots had collected before I arrived.

“What’s the value of each gem?” I asked.

“Rubies like the one you found are common and considered petty, but still useful. Emeralds and sapphires hold more value to the Korral, though I do not know why. If you are fortunate enough to recover a diamond, however, you are rewarded, usually with extra food.”

Over the next few hours, we continued to dig at the wall of our cell, finding the odd gem to break up the monotony of swinging a mattock. It became a routine: dig, find gem, scrape gem out, continue digging. Without knowing what the time was, I had no idea how long I spent digging at the wall, but it seemed to go on forever. As time progressed, my hunger pains returned, and my mouth became dry from dehydration. But despite carrying such a heavy tool, I didn't see any sign of Kamots growing weary, and I became curious as to how long he had been here.

Eventually, after the blood on my face and back had dried into a crispy dark layer, we heard the sound of Diamond Dogs approaching. The door opened, and a pair of dogs stood in the doorway. Kamots dropped his pick and carried the gem-filled sack over to them. Without a word, the sack changed hands, and after a brief inspection of its contents, the dog holding it grunted to his packmate, who tossed a pair of small, dead animals on the ground, along with a sack filled with liquid and sealed with a cork. The grunted once more, before closing the door and locking it.

Kamots picked up the animals and the sack and made his way to the centre of the cell. Setting the items to one side, he reached into the pouch on his side and pulled out a handful of powder that glittered in the lantern’s light. He formed a small pile on the ground, before taking a pair of rocks from his pouch and striking them, creating sparks. The powder quickly burst into flames, and created a sizable fire, despite how small the pile was.

“A powder I have come across that the Korral do not care for,” he explained, “Come, eat your food while you still have time.”

I sat down next to the fire and picked up the dead animal. It was some sort of large rodent, which surprised me, seeing as I hadn't seen any forms of life during my time in the desert. Kamots had already begun to prepare his, using the scraping tool to skin and gut the animal. I copied his movements and slowly cut the skin off my meal. As the tool was designed for scraping loose rock rather than cutting flesh, the process was slow and messy. The smell became revolting in the small room too, but I tried to block it out by breathing through my mouth.

When the skin and organs had been removed, I dumped them in the corner of the cave on top of where Kamots had binned his, before skewering the animal with the tip of my mattock and holding it over the fire.

As our meals cooked, I said, “Kamots, why do the dogs think these tunnels are cursed?”

“Because they are.” he simply replied.

“Why? What goes on?” I asked. Surely he couldn't be talking about ghosts.

“There is something in these caves. It is… difficult to explain without seeing it. If we are fortunate, it may occur soon, and I won’t have to.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Just wait, my friend.”

Still confused, I simply shrugged and let my food continue to cook. The stench of animal guts was beginning to dissipate, being replaced by the smell of cooked meat. After that, it wasn't long before the animal looked ready to eat, and we became silent as I picked the meat off the bones. The rodent itself was tasteless, but the fire had given it a slightly smoky flavour. I wasn't going to complain; it had been a long time since I had last eaten meat, and the texture of another animal’s flesh almost brought a tear to my eye. I didn't realise just how much I had missed the stuff.

Kamots picked up the sack and pulled off its cork, drinking some of the contents before handing it to me. After taking a sniff, I found it to be water, and quickly drank a few mouthfuls, letting the warm liquid soothe my dry throat. It didn't drown my fears of being in this place, but it was better than nothing.

I finished the food and tossed the bones onto the fire, but suddenly, the air turned cold, and I shivered from the drastic change in temperature. Kamots was instantly alert, getting on his feet and darting to one side of the room.

“It seems I will not have to explain this curse on my own,” he said, his voice much more urgent than before, “Over here, quickly!”

I stood up and joined him by the wall, waiting with a mixture of anxiety, confusion, and fear. As I watched, a section of the wall began to darken. Slowly, it became completely black, as if something was casting a shadow, before it started to take a shape. After a few seconds, it formed a perfect shape of a griffin resting a spear on its shoulder. It stood still, as if standing guard, but I could see slight movements. It was as if some invisible being was casting a shadow against the wall, except that this shadow started at the foot of the wall, instead of the light of the fire.

“Who is that?” I asked, “Is that a griffin?”

“Yes,” Kamots whispered, “But I don’t think the word ‘who’ is applicable here.”

He slowly took a step closer, “You will have to move around it. Do not touch the shadow.”

I approached the shadow, and as I got closer, I realised something even creepier. The shadow wasn't being cast against the wall; it was appearing out of the ground, as if it was a whole being in itself. I watched the silhouette as it made a sharp right turn, march to the other side of the room, make an about turn and return to its original position.

“Is it aware of us?” I asked.

“No.” Kamots said, “But, as I said before, you must never touch one.”

“Why not?”

“Let me show you.”

Keeping his distance, Kamots moved to the pile of animal guts and picked up a handful of organs. As the shadow made another patrol, he tossed it in front of its path. The griffin carried on as normal, but when one of its feet touched the organs, there was a small flash of black light. A few seconds later, the guts turned black, and crumbled into a small pile of ash.

“And that’s how it goes, a live demonstration.” Kamots said, “There have been other slaves who have made this mistake. For a bigger object, it can take longer, sometimes hours, before the transformation occurs.”

The shadow of the griffin continued its patrol a few more times, before its head suddenly turned towards the door. It brought the spear to bear, and with a flap of its wings, it charged at the door and disappeared. Despite being a shadow, I still felt a gust of wind from its wings, and it made the hair on my neck stand on end.

“From what I can tell, a battle must have raged here long ago.” Kamots said, as warmth returned to the air and he sat by the fire, “It seems the defenders still man their posts.”

I waited a few more seconds to make sure the shadow was gone, before walking over to the pile of ash that had once been the animal guts. Taking care not to get it on my skin, I sifted through it with my scraping tool. Seeing the pile of black and grey dust unnerved me. I wasn't going to lie; something that could turn a living being to ash merely by touching them was scary.

“Wicked phenomenon, yes?” Kamots asked. When I nodded, he said, “But it only harms those who get in its way. So, you could say it’s only as ‘evil’ as fire or a frightened beast. You must try to get a better understanding of something before you cast your judgement of it.”

I sat back down next to the fire, and Kamots continued, “These caves have been reliving their past over and over again, and any other prisoners who do not heed the warnings usually join that past. They only seem to appear in the evening however, after the Korral have given food to the slaves.”

“How do you know it’s evening?”

“It’s evening for me.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, puzzled.

Kamots stared at the fire, and I could see the embers dancing in his eyes as his brow furrowed from thought, “You come from Equestria. That obviously means that where you come from, time is readily available. It is the same for everyone, like light. But down here, it is the opposite. There is no day or night, and nothing is anybody else’s business. Everyone keeps their own time here, and it is made based on their assumptions, but everyone is equally right. Since we have just received our meal, it is the evening for me, but it could be the morning for one of the other prisoners, and there is a very good likelihood that they are right, as likely as you would get one side of a coin over the other.

“Down here, in the mines, it seems foolish to keep track of time so painstakingly. If you expand your time, you will see how it transforms - it is very interesting. It changes so much, you might not even recognise it. It will cease to be broken up into hours, minutes and seconds. Time is similar to a river; try to scatter it and it will come back together, it will find its own integrity. Societies such as the ponies and the griffins have tamed time, shackled it and kept it within clocks and watches, but the Tymari learned to free it.

“Because of that, we have managed to see: it flows differently for different people. For some it is slow and viscous, counted in the footsteps they take or the days they live. For others it races, swift and sure in one direction. The time you had on the surface has no sense to it down here. So if I said, “Good evening,” to you, you could reply, “Good morning,” and there would be no fault to your thinking. To answer simply, there is no time here.”

Kamots went silent, still staring at the fire. I didn't know what to make of what he had said. The thought of ‘freeing’ your time and observing how people used it was something I’d never considered. Thinking back to Ponyville, I guess Rainbow Dash fitted into the latter category with her cocky and speedy personality, and her goal of being a Wonderbolt set first and foremost in her mind.

“That’s very… philosophical of you.” I said.

Kamots chuckled, “Something my father taught me.”

Curiosity got the better of me, “So what can you tell about me?”

Kamots raised his head, and I could feel his eyes boring into my very soul as he read me, “I think you understand and appreciate time, even if you do not think you do. You do not force it to move faster, nor do you try to restrain it. Rather, you let time lead you, and not the other way around. It is a rare quality, and something that I can respect.”

I didn't reply. I just remained where I was, digesting the words he had said. I was starting to see this being in front of me in a new light. I’d never met anyone with such wisdom. Maybe Kamots was someone I could trust a great deal, even though I had only known him for a few hours.

I found my hand reaching for my pocket and pulling out the photo I’d been sent. Seeing them all standing together, with smiles on their faces, made me feel both joy and sadness, and one of those emotions created a tear that rolled down my cheek. Did they know what had happened to me? And would they know about Shadow yet? Probably not; it had only been a day at best.

Kamots looked up from the fire again, “Your friends?”

I took a deep breath, trying to quell the lump in my throat, “Yeah, one thing the dogs didn't find. One or two of the ponies here I could actually consider family.”

“It is a good thing you care for them. It is important to never forget who you are, or who made you that way.”

“I know,” I muttered, thinking about the world I used to live in.

He yawned, revealing a large row of sharp teeth, before standing up and extinguishing the lantern, “We should get some rest. It will not be long before the Korral will be back to wake us up.”

I lay down on the rough ground and tried to get comfortable as Kamots kicked at the flammable powder and snuffed out the flame before lying down himself. The room was plunged into darkness, and the only noises I heard were the sounds of our breathing.

Kamots went to sleep fairly quickly, as his breathing deepened. I, however, couldn't sleep. Too many thoughts were running through my head. As if on cue, a familiar face appeared next to me.

“So what now?” Valiant asked.

“I don’t know.” I whispered, careful not to wake Kamots, “Play along, maybe look for a way out? I do know one thing: I’m not staying here any longer than I have to. I have no intention of becoming a slave to them, and I won’t let them break me.”

“And what about him?” Valiant said, gesturing at the sleeping Tymari, “Can you trust him?”

“He seems to be the only person I can put anything close to trust in right now,” I looked over at Kamots. At first, I had seen him simply as an ally in a hostile place, but now, after hearing what he said about time, and about me, I had a whole new respect for him. He was someone who knew the world around him, and respected everything in it, “And I remember hearing somewhere that the best friends you’ll ever have are the ones you make when your back is to the wall.”

“That is true.” Valiant remarked, before his voice became quieter, “How are you going to tell the others about Shadow?”

I paused, not wanting to talk about the subject, despite it being at the front of my mind, “…I don’t know,” I said, “I’ll just… Can we leave that for another time? You heard Kamots; the dogs will be back in a few hours.”

Valiant sighed, “Alright Dutch, I’ll hold it off, for now. But remember, you’re going to have to tell them when we get back, best start trying to find the best way of saying it.”

With that, he disappeared. I rolled onto my side, taking care not to lie on my broken wing, and closed my eyes, trying to get as close to sleep as I could.