The Town of Wayout

Dawnbather. A combination of words that hung in her head. Where did they come from? A question to follow an answer. The question before it- what was her name? Dawnbather worked for her, as she was the only one it needed to work for. Looking around at the packed train car, she wondered how many other of these strange creatures had found names of their own. She had had a few conversations to discover that they were all in the same boat: alone in a strange land in a body that is not their own with near-complete amnesia. She was just barely learning to walk before she was cuffed and dragged to what must’ve been the nearest train station. The story was the same for just about everyone else, just with different gaps in time between arrival and capture.

At least it seemed as though the guards weren’t really hostile in any way. Most of them were talking to their captives when they could, during the quieter and less turbulent times of their train ride. She had gleaned a few things from the guard standing a few feet down from her. Here was a short list: They were in Equestria, which was the home of the pony race. She was a pony; a unicorn to be specific. There were many kinds of ponies but most of them were either pegasi, unicorns, or earth ponies. They seemed to be ruled by some sort of celestial monarchy of incredibly powerful ponies who existed outside the biological “rules” that other ponies followed. The last thing and perhaps the one item most pertinent to her current situation was her destination. It was a town called Wayout.

Wayout was an accurate name for such a place, given just how far out from her it was. It had been at least a day on the train. She had eaten several meals, slept at least once, and still they trudged along. There were windows, albeit with bars across, and she could see the countryside stream by her at a lightning pace. On her side was a strip of land that quickly disappeared into a vast ocean. Several hours later and they had pulled away from the ocean and appeared to be steadily heading inland. She ate, bread and cheese and a flavorful vegetable spread. It tasted good enough to eat and did a good job of filling her stomach. If this is what a prisoner's rations were like, imagine the real food! Several more hours passed and she drifted off to sleep, joining the tired ranks in their listless dreaming.

╔═╗

║☼║

╚═╝

It was daytime now and the sun wreathed her body in a pleasant warmth. Among the sounds of nature that filled her ears there was a calling, a cosmic voice reaching out to her over a great distance. It pulled on her heart and she followed, unsteady legs working their way down a hill. She was in a sparse forest and alternated through patches of pleasant shade and brilliant sun. She walked for some ways, always following the voice, never wondering why. She knew and she didn’t; it was a knowledge known to her but hidden in the deep parts of her mind. She was content to become comfortable with her body, to feel her lungs expand and depress, to smell the warm grass and soft earth, to hear her hooftreads upon the dirt. She came across a creek and crossed it with relative ease. The water was cool against her legs and she appreciated the difference in temperature, if only for a while. She walked and walked until her heart told her to stop and she did. It told her to sit and she did. It told her to look up to the sky and when she did, it fell.

She woke with a start, jolting the pony next to her with the violence of her awakening.

“You okay?” The voice was concern with a thick vein of annoyed, no doubt resenting the loss of sleep.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. Just had a uhh…. A weird dream is all.”

“What kind of weird dream makes you wake up like THAT?”

“The sky like… fell on me. I don’t know, I can’t explain it.”

“Mmm, I gotcha. I had a weird dream too. I was like, walkin’ around in this blizzard, right? I had full winter gear on so it wasn’t too bad. Anyways, I was gettin’ up to this big structure. Was about to find out what was before I got woke up.”

“Oh jeez, I’m sorry! It sounds like you were about to hit some sorta big revelation.”

“Hah, yeah. It’s no big though. I’m uh… Wren Tails, I guess.” Wren was an appropriate name indeed for the stormy gray pegasus. Her wings seemed strong and well-suited for flight. Her eyes were a dusty blue and possessed a natural softness that was at odds with the taut muscles that wrapped her frame. Deep orange hair framed her eyes nicely. Dawn presented a stark physical contrast, being of sandy coloration with a shock of golden yellow hair atop her head. She had seen her eyes reflected in the glass and they were a dark red, like a glass of red wine. Where Wren had muscle tone Dawn had pudge, being softer of form and rounder in her complexion.

“Did your brain pick your name for you too?”

“Basically, yeah. Kinda weird when your brain knows your name before you even know what you are, isn’t it?”

“This whole thing is weird…. I’m calling myself Dawnbather, by the way.”

“Nice to meet you, Dawn. Dunno why but I feel that name fits.”

“It’s nice to meet you too, Wren. That name fits just as well as mine does!” That earned a little chuckle from Wren. Her heart told her that if she wanted to live a happy life, she would have to hear that sound again. She believed it.

╔═╗

║☼║

╚═╝

After roughly another days worth of travel they arrived, causing a great clamor throughout the entire train. It was mostly just nice to finally be out in the fresh air, something Dawn breathed in as deep as she could the moment her hooves touched the platform. In the time between meeting Wren and now she had made a friend, an earth pony by the name of Sawyer. She recalled the first time she heard him say his name.

“Sawyer?”

“Mhmm.”

“Sawyer.”

“Yep.”

“Sawyer…”

“That’s it.”

“Nice to meet you Sawyer.”

So there stood her, Wren, and Sawyer, awash as they were in a sea of bodies. There were teams of ponies with marks on their flanks (called Cutie Marks, apparently) who were directing groups of ponies hither and thither. Before long they were called to move with a gaggle of some fifty or so other ponies. They were ushered through the gates by a small contingent of guards, who lead them down a couple of winding streets. Every so often they stopped to assign housing, three or four ponies to a house. The houses seemed of a decent size and from the few glances Dawn got they were well made and well furnished. It seemed you got to choose your housemates, to a degree. The guards would point to a group of ponies and asked if they knew each other. A yes would have them assigned to a house. A no would skip them and move on to another group. When she was called upon she answered yes but asked why it mattered.

“Friendship, or the beginnings of it, are deeply important to the pony race. We hope this will help to develop strong friendships for you will need the companionship in the coming days.”

That was as good an answer as she could’ve expected, so in went the three new-found friends. Finally alone, they all took a collective moment to relax and de-stress. The house had two stories to it, the first consisting of a dining room, a modest kitchen, and a sitting room. Upstairs were the sleeping quarters. Sawyer went upstairs, no doubt to tend to the bags under his eyes. Dawn examined what appeared to be a gift basket on the table. There was a selection of fruits, vegetables, bread and the like, along with a note. It was then she realized she had no idea how to read.