Salvation | Rebirth

After the uncertainty and fear of the Royal Art Gallery and the fun of the Amusement Park, Wild appreciated the calm of the leisurely walk he was now having with Artful, quietly exploring the less exciting streets of Canterlot. They didn’t talk, but they didn’t need to - both were content to simply be by each other’s side. This allowed both of them to appreciate the beauty of Canterlot, even though Wild’s eyes inadvertently took in all the small details that, back in the old world, would have helped him survive out on the streets. Back then, he cared not a single bit about the architecture or how old the surrounding buildings were, after all. And now, it appeared the habit of analyzing his surroundings had not been shaken off, reemerging when he found himself in a vaguely similar place. Of course, Canterlot was not at all like a city he was used to. Canterlot had narrower streets, was much denser, and didn’t have the constant drone of various car noises. Wild certainly did not expect the capital of Equestria to be so quiet, though he was definitely thankful for it. The mental noise of the many minds was already enough, he didn’t want physical noise to press on him on top of that.

Despite the way his mind worked, Wild still did his best to appreciate the city for what it was, not analyze it for what could have been a different time in his life. For once, he certainly liked the absence of any skyscrapers. He had always found them... unpleasant. They towered over him, looming over oppressively, seemingly stretching forever into the sky, and the glare of the sun reflecting off the many glass windows could be very annoying. Skyscrapers were an eyesore as well, and Wild had no idea what people found in them that was so good. Besides, he avoided them the best he could since skyscrapers meant nothing of interest could be found around them, and security tended to be more alert and present, and they certainly had the eye to spot someone like him coming from a mile away.

Canterlot was rife with various small teahouses and cafe as well, which filled the air with pleasant smells whenever Wild happened to pass one. Despite having recently eaten, he wouldn’t mind grabbing a cup of tea.

“Maybe we should get a cup of tea?” Artful asked, voicing Wild’s thoughts. Wild nodded in response, and so the two of them approached the closest tea shop.

On the inside, it was almost cramped, fitting a bunch of tables inside of space not much bigger than Wild remembered his family’s house was, yet it felt cozy instead. Wood panels, warm tones, and comfortable-looking half-sofas and couches, it was certainly welcoming. However, Artful and Wild didn’t plan to sit down - there was much of the city left to explore, after all, and only so much time.

“Hello dears!” they were greeted by the shop owner minding the counter, “What can I get for you?”

As Artful made his order first, Wild looked at the menu, and he had absolutely no idea what any teas beyond green and black were. His family sometimes enjoyed the aforementioned two kinds of teas, though Wild could be misremembering slightly. Either way, his knowledge of teas was non-existent. Unfortunately for him, soon enough it was his time to order. He hummed thoughtfully, his eyes darting from one tea or another, stuck in decision paralysis.

“First time picking tea?” the shop owner asked him, and he nodded, “Don’t worry, let’s see...” they studied him with their eyes for a moment, “Hmm, yes, I think rooibos tea will do well.”

It wasn’t the most expensive tea, so Wild didn’t have much of a reason to disagree. He might as well try and see how it tasted for him. After all, discovering new things was the point of going out to a new city.

“Alrighty, so will you two have it here or to go with?”

Both Wild and Artful said that they would take the tea with them, then paid the price for the tea and settled down to wait. The shop owner bustled in the kitchen, which was open for the visitors to see, and soon enough they came out with two lidded cups with straws. They then directed Artful and Wild to stand still as they expertly attached a sort of harness to them, making their cups rest on the upper part of their chests, the ends of the straws close to their mouths.

“Save the harness for the next time you visit!” the shop owner told them, and they left.

Wild had a feeling that people from the old world would not appreciate tea being drunk through a straw. After all, it was supposed to be served in ceramic cups on small plates and drank leisurely while sitting at a table or on an armchair or something of that sort. At least, that was what Wild knew - or half-remembered - about it. Whatever the case was, he didn’t particularly mind the straw, although he took it out of the cup straight away, as it wasn’t his preferred way to drink anything. He lifted the cup out of the harness using his magic, then took a sip of his tea through the hole in the lid where the straw had previously been. He idly noticed that both the cup and the straw felt somewhat like cardboard yet different. The lid also wasn’t made out of plastic as far as he could tell, although it was certainly nearly smooth enough to feel somewhat close. The tea had an interesting taste, equally fruity, spicy, and nutty, and it was certainly not unpleasant. To be entirely honest, however, Wild would still prefer plain water, though now he realized he wouldn’t say no to tea in the future, at least to this particular kind. It was nice and refreshing, as well as quite tasty. Artful, he knew, ordered something known as pu-er tea, and Wild honestly had no idea what it was either.

“Wanna take a sip?” Artful suggested then as if reading Wild’s mind. Wild, somewhat reluctantly and without a good reason to be reluctant, nodded, got closer to Artful, and put the straw in his mouth. It was a bit bitter but, at least to his mind, not that different from the vague memories he had of black tea.

“Not bad,” Wild decided to say, shrugging. Wouldn’t be his first choice of tea, however, “You can... take a sip of mine.”

Wild brought his cup closer to Artful’s mouth and carefully tipped it so that Artful could take a sip.

“Huh, this is actually really nice,” Artful said.

For the next dozen or so of minutes, they walked and enjoyed their tea, sometimes exchanging it with each other. Wild blushed slightly when he realized how romantic it was... or could be. It didn’t seem like Artful was finding what they were doing in any way unusual, so perhaps it was simply what ponies did sometimes. Whatever the case was, Wild deemed this exchange of drinks a sort of thing that belonged in the ‘possibly what people in love do together’ category.

In truth, he could say that having a day in Canterlot technically counted as a date with Artful, considering that he had already spent most of the day with him, and they even talked about rather private topics. Of course, it had to be noted that Wild hadn’t really wanted to bring any of that up right that moment, but having seen what he had seen in the Royal Art Gallery gave him an arguably necessary push to confide in Artful. Without it, who knew if he would delay it despite having spoken to Artful about wanting to tell him about himself. It was ironic, considering it was Wild who told Artful that he would like not to talk about it, and yet there he was, unable to say no to the possibility of revealing his deepest-held secrets. Perhaps that was what love was, wanting to share more of himself with someone else? And besides, had he not been deceiving Artful by hiding something that important? Whatever the answers to such questions were, Wild hoped he would be able to talk with Luna or Doctor Fay soon so that they could perhaps help him figure it out. They hadn’t done wrong by him so far, so he could trust them with it. Maybe... he would even ask Artful so that the two of them could go together and solve any issues that came up immediately.

Despite those issues, Wild could still say he loved Artful, as far as he knew what love even was, at least. And, in turn, he felt Artful’s love and the surety of it, so he didn’t have to doubt whether Artful was simply tolerating his presence until he could get away from Wild. No, there was simply no room for such doubts, and nothing to support them. However, Wild could only wish those doubts never came up because, as far as he knew, Artful would not hesitate to speak his mind.

Wild stopped in his tracks when he felt... something. Artful made a few more steps forward before noticing. Wild frowned in concentration, focusing on the vague feeling he noticed, feeling that was neither his nor Artful’s.

“What is it?” Artful asked. In a few moments, Wild finally understood what he was feeling.

“Someone is... in trouble. Nearby,” he said. He felt the distress of someone as well as anger of someone else. If he strained his ears, he could almost hear some angry shouting. He hesitated for a moment, wondering if it was safe to get into it. He shook that thought of - he had magical power and physical strength. He didn’t know many spells, certainly not yet, but he could make a difference. Whatever was going on, it was worth investigating at least, and so he asked, “Follow me?”

Artful nodded seriously, and the two went on a trot. Thankfully, they had managed to finish their tea, and so the cups and the straws went into the nearest garbage bin. Wild narrowed his focus and turned from the street into the back alleys behind various shops. There, the buildings loomed even if they weren’t tall, and the alleys themselves were narrow enough that maybe at most three ponies could pass side by side, and even then with some difficulty. The back alleys were still surprisingly clean of trash or anything of that sort, although Wild and Artful had to go around various dumpsters. Now angry shouts were audible if not yet easy to understand, but Wild could tell there was swearing involved. He quickened his pace, Artful not far behind.

Not long after, they came across the source of all the shouting, and Wild understood where anger and distress was coming from. A unicorn wearing an apron held a broom in their magical grasp, using it to whack a crumpled dark-gray figure on the ground, who was doing their best to protect themselves with their legs, lying on their back.

“Hey, what’s going on?” Artful shouted. This made the unicorn stop beating on the figure on the ground.

“The fuckin’ face-stealer’s tryin’ to break into my shop, that’s what!” the unicorn replied, their voice harsh and masculine.

Wild looked closer, and realized that the figure on the ground had a smooth if dirtied dark gray, bordering on black body, and translucent aqua-green insect-like wings. There were holes in their limbs and in their long and narrow ears, which went all the way through, yet for some reason were not wounds, though they still made Wild feel vaguely uncomfortable to look at them. The changeling was on the ground, lying in dirt, one of their wings bent uncomfortably, another leg looking like it had been broken at some point and healed incorrectly. Distress and fear were radiating off the changeling like nothing Wild had felt before. The changeling also gave off the impression that they had been out on the streets for... a while. Wild noticed the thinness of their body, and he knew that it was not right, knew that, in comparison to the only other changeling Wild knew, this one was... starving.

“Stop beating them!” Artful cried out when the unicorn raised the broom to rain even more strikes on the changeling.

“As if you don’t fucking know what they tried to do!” the unicorn retorted, “This one’s a leftover or a scout! They’re going to invade again, and I’m not going to let them!”

“They are not a scout,” Wild spoke with surety. Whoever this changeling was, they could not be a scout, Wild was certain of it. Wild had to focus on his breath in order not to... grow too distracted.

“How the fuck do you know that?”

“They’re starving,” Artful said, almost in a whisper, yet still loud enough to be clear.

“What do I care? They could all starve, the world will be better off, that’s damn sure!”

“No,” Wild said, stepping forward. One leg in front of the other, all four of them in the right sequence. His eyes were focused on the crumpled yet still, thankfully, breathing and living and conscious form of the changeling.

“The fuck you mean ‘no’?” the unicorn looked at him in befuddlement, then grew even angrier, their face setting in a snarl, “Ah, you’re an insect fucker, huh? I’ll fuck you up too!”

Wild was soon close enough to the unicorn, and the unicorn swung their broom at him. His magical hand shot out and grabbed it, stopping it from hitting him, and then he tore it from the unicorn’s grasp, making them stumble. Then Wild’s horn lit up, his face scrunched in concentration for a second, and then a white lightning shot from the tip of his horn to the unicorn, hitting them and making them spasm, resulting in them falling backwards and twitching, a groan of pain emerging from their mouth. The unicorn was still alive and almost entirely unharmed, still definitely conscious. Wild’s spell worked as intended, functioning as a taser. Abandoning the broom, Wild sat down next to the changeling, who was now looking at him with their solid sky-blue eyes. Confusion, fear, hope, more confusion and uncertainty, and more fear.

“I can help you,” Wild said, but it was clear not a word of it was understandable to the changeling. So, he focused on their mind, then pushed the same message into it, making the changeling twitch in surprise. Hope grew stronger, fear grew weaker, but there was now pain.

Artful was nearby too, his eyes going over the map of Canterlot.

“The hospital is far,” he said as the changeling began to stir, slowly rolling over and trying to push themselves up to stand, “But we don’t know if they’ll treat them. I think the safe bet is the Castle, which is a bit closer, because, you know, Princess Celestia made it public that she supports changelings. She can help.”

The changeling tried to stand up but failed, pain shooting through them. Wild was no expert on injuries, but he suspected bruised limbs and ribs, definitely broken bones, perhaps even beyond one of their legs. He lowered himself to the ground, directing a thought towards the changeling for them to climb on his back. The changeling thrilled and chirped something, probably in whatever language that they spoke, before slowly making their way on top of Wild with his magical help. He breathed evenly and calmly, focusing on it, focusing on the goal of getting the changeling medical attention. To the Castle it was, even though he had no particular desire to see Princess Celestia despite having technically solved the issues he had with her.

Wild stood up, the weight of the changeling feeling like nothing. They were so thin, perhaps as frail as Wild remembered himself be- no. He focused on the now because he knew he could not afford to remember, not now. Even if this sort of situation was not unfamiliar in any way to him.

“If you come back...” the unicorn wheezed from the ground, “I will fuck you up!”

“Oh fuck off!” Artful snapped, though refrained from kicking them while they were down despite the huge desire to do so that Wild could feel.

Slowly and carefully, Wild traveled through the city via the back alleys, doing his best not to be seen because he knew he would unlikely be able to defend himself as well as the changeling from anyone angry enough to throw a stone or something of that sort. Whatever the attitude Canterlot denizens had towards the changelings, Wild suspected it wasn’t welcoming. It was not worth risking it if he could avoid it. Thankfully for him, his ability to feel where others were based on the feeling of their minds made it relatively easy to avoid notice. He simply had to keep an ear to Artful, who was verbally directing Wild through the twists and turns of the city towards the castle. The changeling remained awake and aware, in pain and distressed, clinging on to Wild like a lifeline.

The buildings grew sparser the closer they came to the Canterlot Castle until there was nothing but a small park left between them and the palace. There was no entrance to the castle that wasn’t guarded, and there wasn’t some sort of side entrance that showed on the map or one Wild was aware of. The public gate it was. Thankfully for them, there was no one but a pair of guards, standing silently. Wild did not have great experiences with the police in his old life, so he wasn’t especially willing to extend any sort of trust towards the guards here, but he had to. Steeling himself, he picked up the pace and went straight towards them. The guards didn’t take long to notice Wild, the changeling on his back, and Artful. They moved in to intercept, though Wild could feel there was wariness and not outright hostility. Artful stepped forward, overtaking Wild.

“The changeling needs medical attention,” he said once the group was close enough to the guards. The changeling was radiating strong anxiety now, but hadn’t moved from their place on Wild’s back.

The guards looked between each other, silent communication even Wild wasn’t privy to passed between them, before one of them nodded.

“This way, to the hospital wing,” they said, and so the group followed them. The other guard went the other way, and another pair of guards stepped in to stand at the entrance, not even looking at the group.

The Hospital Wing of the Canterlot Castle was relatively close to the entrance, and it didn’t take long for the guard to escort Wild, the changeling, and Artful there. A unicorn nurse welcomed them, noticed the changeling, and then chirped something at them. Whatever was said, it made the changeling relieved.

“Please stop and stand in place,” the nurse directed Wild, who did as asked, “I will now carefully lift the changeling,” after they said so, the changeling smoothly and painlessly moved upwards, then on one of the stretchers on wheels that had rolled to the nurse not a moment ago. When placed on the stretcher, the changeling became apparently small, and that was not just the thinness of their body. Wild’s blood froze in his veins when he realized just how young the changeling was, certainly younger than Jade. The nurse then said, “They will be taken care of. As for you two, stay here, the princess will see to you shortly.”

The changeling was carted off deeper into the hospital wing. Wild and Artful were directed back to the entrance, where Wild finally collapsed on one of the waiting seats. His head was full of nothing, buzzing like static of an old TV, and he simply breathed. He didn’t hear what Artful said, if anything, and barely saw the smooth white ceiling as he sat there.

Some perhaps would feel accomplished, would feel like heroes, but Wild... he felt drained yet also relieved. He would prefer not to think of anything, at least for a time.

And that was what he did.