The emptiness was glaring. He stood there amidst the silence, and not even the wind blew. Trees stood absolutely still, their leaves entirely unmoving. The water surface of the lake was like glass, not a single ripple on it. In the distance, the mountain range stood tall, taller than it perhaps should be. Canterlot was equally still as everything else, barely a speck from this far.

He walked yet he was floating, his steps unnaturally muffled. He wasn't certain if the sky or the sun existed. Everything was washed-out.

He entered the building. It was dim, abandoned. The details were blurry, and only one thing was certain - there was a staircase leading somewhere up, somewhere he couldn't quite see. The walls were empty and gray, as dull as anything could ever be.

At the bottom of the stairs, a television stood. It was old and bulky, its screen of glass bulging outward. He walked to it, and it turned on, displaying images that didn't make sense. There was something familiar about them, but it didn't matter how close he looked - they didn't show anything coherent. There was also text, mirrored and inverted, as if it was him who was inside the television and he was being watched. He tilted his head this or that way, but the writing didn't make sense, and it continued changing every few seconds, frustrating his attempts at understanding it.

The image changed to an infinite sea of stars. It seemed familiar too, but he couldn't remember why. It swirled and churned yet remained perfectly still. Text appeared, and he read it. It vocalized itself inside his head... or was someone speaking?

If there is one thing you should know is that you are not safe.

You thought you were. You thought it was all over. You thought your life would go on past you, you just a passive observer.

The image melted, turning into what looked like a still frame. There was Wild, a broom handle in his grasp, and changelings shaped like him, surrounding him.

They beat you, they will beat you again unless you learn.

The infinite sea of infinite stars swallowed him whole. There was no television, no room, no stairs, just the darkness of emptiness and the light of trillions of small dots.

You are weak, you must become stronger.

The world tilted on its side, the image becoming garbled, the voice fading into what sounded like static. High-pitched whine arose, everything turning into nothing, and the noise continued. It turned into what sounded like a scream, yet heavily distorted as if coming through a radio.

Wild woke up, his head pounding in pain. He whimpered - it felt like someone was trying to split his head in two with a dull axe too small and too light for the job, yet that didn't prevent it from striking again and again and again.

There was something important he needed to remember, and he knew it would be gone if he got rid of the pain. The sea of stars, he saw it when his eyes were closed, but the pain was unbearable. He tried to ride it out, to endure, pressing his head into the pillow in the vain hope that it will help. He rolled, he tried to focus on his breath, but nothing helped.

He gave in, opened his eyes, spotted the potion. He uncorked the vial and dumped its contents into his mouth, and then swallowed. A second, no change, and he flung the vial at the nearest wall. With a dull thud, it collided with the wall, then dropped down without breaking, rolling away. Another second, and the pain was still there. He whimpered, his eyes squeezed shut, praying to anything and everything that it would go away. Third second, and relief finally hit him. The pain was retreating, taking his thoughts with it.

He was out and back to dreaming by the time the door to his hospital room opened and Luna walked in, worry on her face. She spotted the vial lying on the floor, then saw Wild lying on the bed, peacefully dreaming. She sighed in relief, picked up the vial and the cork, and walked out of the room.

Luna knew at once what happened - he attempted to resist the pain. She shook her head, thinking of how he needed to get rid of such mindset. There was no need to prolong his own suffering when there was help offered. She wondered if he thought of himself as weak for having to take the potion, for being unable to handle the pain. It wasn't an uncommon mindset, of course, but helping people deal with it properly was never an easy task, and she expected it to be harder for Wild, considering his... well, his everything.

Luna tried not to think much about his true origins. They mattered, yes, but she knew it wouldn't be wise to dig. If he told no one of them, then perhaps he had a good reason to be silent. She was perfectly willing to let it go despite her own curiosity. Her priority was and had to remain helping him, and pushing him where he didn't want to be pushed would only alienate him. The best she could do was gently nudge him along the way, and it would be up to him where to go from there.

***

On the second day of his recovery, Wild already felt more clear-headed, although something was telling him he had forgotten something important. He tried to figure out what it was, but his thoughts remained elusive and uncertain. He knew it was the side-effect of the potion, and he would have to bear with it unless he wanted the splitting headache to come back. If he was honest with himself, that was not the kind of pain he wanted to experience ever again. Mushy mind and blurry thoughts were a small price to pay for not being in pain.

Despite it all, however, he did know he was far more lucid, more aware of his surroundings and time. He now knew that he spent most of the previous day staring blankly at a wall, which was concerning, frustrating, and even sad. He had never before been reduced to what he was now - a barely-functioning person. He still ate food and cleaned himself, but he only did it automatically, with barely a thought, and everything else was distant. Even now, trying to catch a complex thought was not unlike trying to grab a small length of a hair floating underwater - it simply slipped through his grasp no matter how hard he struggled, and success was more due to luck than his conscious efforts.

Fortunately, he was still aware of who he was even if the memories that made him himself were aimlessly floating somewhere just out of reach. He still passed the cognition test Luna walked him through, so he was glad he wasn't entirely bed-bound and unaware of anything at all. The most concerning thought was that his emotions were mostly gone. He wasn't even sure if he actually felt concern and didn't just try to convince himself that it was what he had to feel.

"I want to go out," he said to Luna, his words slow but coherent, his accent obviously there but controlled enough to be easily understandable, "Outside. I want to... walk."

He was ready for the answer to be 'no'. And yet, he couldn't help but ask. Now that he was more aware, the walls felt stifling, and only the presence of a proper window prevented him from feeling like he was in the basement all over again.

"You were never forbidden from that," Luna replied.

Wild blinked. From what he remembered about hospitals, wasn't he supposed to stay unless told otherwise? But then he wasn't physically hurt, was he? He could walk. He could navigate the halls, his... what was the term? Spatial awareness, yes, it functioned perfectly fine.

"Before we go, I must tell you that I will have to stay close to you," Luna continued, "Not because I believe you will hurt yourself or that it's unsafe for you to be outside. It concerns your mind - it is still in disarray and healing. Because of your affinity for catching stray thoughts, they may impact you and hurt your mind. I will have to shield you from the thoughts of others."

Wild processed it, then nodded. He didn't exactly know how the thoughts of others could hurt him, but he didn't want to find out whether it was slight discomfort or throbbing pain.

"Alright, then I will shield you now," Luna said, "It will be a strange sensation as I cast the spell, tell me to stop if it becomes painful."

Wild furrowed his brows, then nodded. Perhaps he should have spoken a verbal agreement, but now it was harder to say things. However, he remembered a thing he was told some time ago, although he couldn't recall who told him that or when or where - he was told that it was important to speak, no matter how little, in order not to grow more and more silent. He didn't care much not long before he died, but now... now, he wanted to speak again. As bad as his voice was - oh how he wanted to stay silent forever - there was still something about speaking that made him feel good. Besides, it wasn't like anyone aside from Luna had ever heard him anyway. Speaking to her was... fine, although he couldn't yet articulate exactly why.

Luna shielding his mind felt like being wrapped in something he couldn't quite describe, but the sensation wasn't unpleasant. It felt not unlike entering a silent room after being in a quiet room - the difference was small but very noticeable.

Wild didn't like to be touched, but this... this wasn't unwelcome. He didn't mind that it was her who did it. He thought about it - why was he like that when it came to her? Speaking to her, allowing her to touch him... and then it hit him, a realization - he trusted Luna. Not only that, but he trusted Luna with his well-being. He now knew she cared. She was there for him when he needed her, and she hadn't taken advantage of him despite his state of mind. He knew she could have, he expected her to take advantage of him before the last few days, and yet...

It felt good. To have someone to trust, to give them his trust. Not that he was about to tell Luna everything, but if... if he one day wanted to, she would be the first person he would go to.

Finally, he emerged from his hospital room into the hallway. What he expected wasn't what he got - instead of white sterile walls, harsh lighting, and tile everywhere, he was met with hardwood floors, pleasantly and warmly green walls, and natural lighting coming from tall windows. It appeared he took one of perhaps twenty similar rooms in the same hallway. The light didn't hurt his eyes, but he had to look down and blink rapidly to get used to it after the dimness of his hospital room. Luna patiently waited for him to adjust and, when he was ready, led him past all the doors. It wasn't long before they came into a wider room that was the entrance hall, which had quite a similar look. On one of the otherwise blank walls, there was a board, on which many children's drawings were hanging. In one of the corners, there was some soft furniture and plush toys lying around. It all looked quite welcome as far as Wild was concerned. Double doors made of wood led into the rest of the building, but a door to the side led outside.

"Wild, this is Nurse Fairheart," Luna told him, gesturing at a nurse who was currently doing crosswords at the welcome desk, "If I am not here, you can ask her for help with anything, and I do mean anything."

"Yep, that's my job," the nurse chirped, her eyes looking at Wild warmly, "I'm glad to see you up and about, Wild."

He nodded somewhat awkwardly. She seemed friendly enough, and if she had Luna's trust, then maybe he would seek her help. Maybe.

"It's a nice day outside," the nurse continued, "The next few days will be warm and sunny, so take advantage of that, alright?"

Wild, once again, nodded. Thankfully, further conversation was avoided, and he was led outside. True to Fairheart's word, the day was indeed warm - not hot - and sunny, only a couple clouds in the sky. He blinked in confusion - the leaves on the trees were already largely yellow, orange, or red. He didn't keep the best track of time, but he thought it couldn't have been months since the Invasion.

"It's the third day since the Changeling Invasion," Luna explained to him, "It is your third day in the hospital."

Wild was a bit unnerved by the fact that she too could catch thoughts, but at least this answered his unspoken question.

"You are better at keeping your thoughts close," she told him, "Tomorrow or the day after you should be back to full control over them. Once you've fully recovered, I will teach you how to deal with it even better if you allow me."

That was a relief to hear. He would certainly much rather keep his thoughts to himself. As for Luna's offer... he would consider it.

The outside was a large yard surrounded by a brick fence one could climb over but not simply walk over. There were a couple tables with seating under cherry trees, a couple of bird baths, and a fountain in the center. It all had quite a relaxing atmosphere, and Wild simply faded into it, not noticing as he traced the pathways with his hooves, enjoying the nature. His mind was empty of thoughts once again, replaced by the rustling of the trees in the wind, the feeling of warmth that got to his skin through his fur, and the smell of fall. It was bliss.

Luna followed him around silently, not disturbing him from his walk. The yard was empty now save for one person Wild had yet to notice - a filly a couple years younger than him. She was distant for now, hidden behind the bushes and the trees.

For Wild, it felt as if it was forever since he had last been outside. The chaos of the invasion, the stress and the fear, the pain... for a moment, it almost made him forget the peace of... of ever since he died. There were hurdles, yes, but in general.... it had been good, hadn't it?

He stopped and closed his eyes. He breathed deeply, focusing on the smells and the sounds and his thoughts. As slow as his mind was right now, he still knew...

This life, this second chance... it was worth it. He died, yes, but he was glad that he lived. Did he not get what he wanted anyway? His past was left to haunt only him, but it would remain within him. But he told Luna he killed before, didn't he? He knew it was important. He knew he should've been panicking about it. Yet she didn't speak about it. As long as it wasn't brought up, he wouldn't bring it up either. He knew her forgetting it was not possible, yet he vainly hoped that she would never talk to him about it.

If he could go back to that moment, he wouldn't speak those words. Perhaps magic made it possible to travel backwards in time, but how much effort did it require? He only knew the basics, he could only do the basics. It might even be too late by the time he learned the spell or the ritual or whatever it was.

Perhaps... it would be for the best if he simply went with the flow. There was nothing that he could do. He only hoped it wouldn't ruin his second life. Despite everything... he wanted to live. He wanted to thrive.

He wondered if he would think this way once he recovered. Did he genuinely think this way or was it his addled mind that pushed him into it somehow?

Right now, he found it difficult to care.

He opened his eyes, feeling a little woozy, a headache at the edge of his mind. Perhaps it would be better if he lay down, and there was a comfortable-looking patch of grass under something that looked like a birch tree.

Entirely gracelessly, he flopped on the ground and rolled to his side. The ground wasn't very soft, but he didn't care. The headache was subsiding already, and he was entirely content not to think for a long, long while.

***

Luna sat not too far away from where Wild lay, watching over him in the corner of her eye. What started as simple rest turned into sleep, which wasn't surprising - his recovery depended on it. The longer he spent not actively thinking - or at least not thinking much - the sooner his mind would, with the help of potions, heal itself. Luna was grateful for the existence of such medicine - she remembered how awful recovery from such attacks was in the past, even with regular painkillers and sleep medication.

She summoned a book to her, an adventure novel, and resumed her reading on a marked page. Might as well read while Wild slept. Luna had always been an avid reader, and now she had a thousand years worth of backlog. The printing press already existed during her times, but it had improved tremendously since then, and more books had been written than she could ever hope to read. No longer did the old Royal Library look imposing - in fact, the old part was the smallest, and the entire library had to be expanded multiple times to accommodate all the new books. Luna had been consuming books like crazy, yet it was clear she hadn't even made a dent. It was certainly exciting.

In the corner of her eye, she saw Wild's horn flaring briefly in light. She turned her head and saw his magical hand appearing out of nowhere, scratch his chest, and then disappear. Wild remained asleep. Luna hadn't seen such behavior before - usually, ponies rolled around a bit to scratch whatever itch they had, even unicorns.

Wild, right now, looked completely different compared to how he usually was. Luna knew now - he had that wary look on him almost all of the time, his face always a bit tight, his body tense in general. It wasn't uncommon - foals who came to the orphanage from abusive environments tended to behave like that at first as well. Wild had improved somewhat - before the Invasion. Now, however... Luna didn't know how it would impact him once the damage is all healed.

Wild mumbled something in his sleep, but Luna had no idea what it was. When he was sleeping, he didn't feel like a pony would - his dreams were different. Unstructured, chaotic, flowing from one scenario to another without so much as a pause, and yet not harmful... usually. They could always turn for the worse - that was the direct result of their unpredictability. It was difficult to register when he was having a bad dream or a nightmare, making it harder to help him when he needed it. Luna also needed to be careful now - with his mind weak and vulnerable, even her best intentions could cause it to turn for the worse.

Luna closed her book, marking the page where she stopped - just a few sentences past where she resumed. In truth, she wasn't at ease, and her mind would keep distracting her from the book. Her worry about Wild was getting to her, she knew. Of course, it wasn't unusual for the Royal Orphanage staff to get attached to one foal or another in some sort of familial, caring relationship, but Luna was especially invested in Wild's well-being, and she didn't know exactly why. Perhaps it was because she felt like he needed her help most of all. Perhaps it was because she was the only one who could give him the help he needed. At least, that was the truth for now - Wild seemed to have some measure of trust in her, which she didn't expect to be true for others.

As Wild lay on the ground sleeping, she realized she had never really looked at him, not closely. She knew his features, but all the other times she saw him he was awake and alert. Now, it was as if she was seeing his physical body fully for the first time. He was lean yet muscular, a reward from his intense yet thoughtful training - he was one of the most fit ponies his age, in fact. There was that scar on his head and a tear in his ear, of course - it was impossible to miss. However, there were more that weren't as visible, but now they seemed to pop out, calling for her attention.

His face had five more scars aside from the obvious one - how didn't she notice them before? Two were near his nostrils, almost invisible, although she imagined they would form small folds when he scrunched his muzzle. Facial scars tended to do that, she noted absently. Another pair of scars was near his lips, thin and short, almost impossible to see if one didn't look specifically for them. The fifth and the final one was a bit above his right brow, forming a barely noticeable short line where fur didn't grow.

Luna wondered what kind of stories were behind those scars. What caused them? Was it an accident, was it from a fight, or was it something else entirely? Judging by how small those scars were, she wasn't sure she could say they were inflicted deliberately. However, accidental scars are almost always placed on the limbs.

Speaking of his limbs, one of his forelegs had a couple thin scars as well, right near the hoof. That could have certainly been accidental, she had seen similar ones, especially if someone broke their leg around that spot. Casting her mind back, she recalled the way Wild walked and moved in general - it didn't seem like any of his legs ever bothered him.

This reminded Luna that Wild would eventually need to go through a thorough medical examination. She had yet to raise that point with him, and she didn't know whether he would agree or not. A simple magical scan was performed on him when he was first found, of course, but nothing beyond that. Whatever deeper issues he might or might not have, no one but him could possibly know.

Wild snorted in his sleep and rolled, exposing more of his stomach and chest. Luna traced his body with her eyes, looking for more scars, feeling like there was something she needed to know. To the right of his stomach, there was... she nearly gasped - it was undeniably a scar from a knife stab, a nearly perfect trace of a cross-section of a knife - if she was right, it was diamond-shaped. Just how in the world did he get it and how did he survive? Undoubtedly he got very lucky - the knife could've nicked his intestines, which would mean easy infection from the intestine's contents, and that would've been a very painful death that couldn't have been easily prevented. She paused for a moment, gathering her thoughts - there was a non-zero chance that wasn't the end of it. Perhaps it wasn't even the worst of it, even though she hoped otherwise.

However, there was no relief for her - below his belly button, there was burn scar tissue. That one was no accident, she knew immediately - the scar was centered, the shape too... deliberate. It was a circle, and within it was something... something like a symbol.

Luna felt nauseous - she had seen similar scars before. Not the same symbol, but she knew the intent, knew the signs to look for, and this scar was, without a doubt, special in a way that she had hoped to never see again.

It was a brand. She could picture it in her mind clearly - Wild being held down as someone used an iron to burn this into its place.

Luna remembered history well - a long time ago, when Equestria was a new, weak country, still recovering from losing their homes and lives to the hateful cold of windigos, ponies often disappeared. For a while, it was thought that they departed to places unknown to build their own lives, away from others. However, the truth was far more horrifying - they were kidnapped and forced into slavery. They were made to plow the fields, to grow the food, to suffer in the mines, to make weather perfect for their masters, and many other things. Usually, a tag with a number was clipped to one of their ears to signify to whom they belonged. That was, unfortunately, the kindest brand - many others tended to brand their 'property' with a hot iron, oftentimes on the forehead.

Luna closed her eyes, forcing a deep breath. There were those who branded ponies where Wild was branded. Ponies branded that way were... no, it couldn't be. It shouldn't be. Luna forced another deep breath, calming down her racing thoughts. He was from a different world, wasn't he? This might mean something else, something different than what she thought.

Oh, who was she trying to fool? Herself? There's a reason why Wild didn't like being touched. There's a reason Wild tended to place himself where he would be the least vulnerable. There's a reason why, that one time, he reacted strongly to being touched from the back.

A brand with this sort of placement could only indicate one thing - sexual slavery.

Luna felt sick to her core and furious beyond belief. Who dared to do that? Who were the monsters responsible for this? She felt black rage rising inside of her, telling her to sharpen her blades and prepare her magic. There were people who deserved to die, and she would gladly deliver the killing blow. She would tear them piece by piece, hear how they begged to be spared and then beg for death, and she would enjoy it. She didn't fight for her subjects only for some cruelty-driven asshole to believe they could take whatever they wanted and inflict whatever harm they wished. She would strike them down, delivering the only fate they deserved - death.

She was broken out of her thoughts when she heard a tiny sound coming from Wild. A grimace was on his face, his body tense.

Luna forced herself to calm down, regulating her breathing and bringing her thoughts under control. Soon enough, Wild's features smoothed, his body relaxed, and he was back to sleeping soundly.

There was one last thing that she saw about him - his nipples weren't there, only ugly scar tissue.

Luna wished she could hold him tight and allow him to cry out, to release every single bit of pain he held inside him. She wished she could tell him that everything would be alright, that he would recover, that there was a happy life still ahead of him, that he wasn't broken nor tarnished by his experiences.

Yet, she knew he wouldn't accept her help, not yet. There was trust yet to be built, connection yet to be properly established. Were she to tell him now what she knew about him, he would likely run away, and every bit of progress would be for nothing.

However, there was one thing she could do - prepare. If Wild ever decided to trust her with his past - and with his trauma - she would need to be prepared to help him. What he went through was something that hadn't happened in Equestria for many centuries now, she would need to dig up old historical records from other psychiatrists and psychologists. On top of that, she would need to brush up on a course about helping survivors of sexual assault. It was likewise extremely rare to the point of non-existence, so she would need to look up older records here as well, and perhaps some of the older doctors had direct experience with it, considering that Luna had heard of some sort of scandal about a noble and what the said noble did to hired servants at least a quarter century ago.

Then a thought wormed its way into her head - if Wild was once a slave, then he somehow managed to escape and end up in this world. Perhaps it was during that escape that he ended up here. And there was the fact that he said... he said that he had killed.

It clicked in place easily, and it explained perfectly how Wild was trying to convince himself to kill the changeling princess. Perhaps he saw the similarities between her and his master or masters - whom he had killed. Without a doubt, that was what his words meant, Luna knew it now. Perhaps he killed them during his escape, maybe he killed them in revenge afterwards. She wouldn't know how unless he told her, and she had a feeling he didn't feel good about having done what he did. She would have to reassure him, to make it clear that he did no wrong. No one, not her sister, not anyone else who knows the history of Equestria would ever condemn a slave for killing their master.

Luna sighed - she had a lot of work ahead of her, and she couldn't let Wild know what it was about, certainly not yet. She was all too aware how victims of abuse tended to hide what they went through, hoping that their trauma would go away if they just didn't think about it. For some, time was a good healer - for most, time would only deepen the scars.

At least, for the physical scars, one could undergo treatment to make them fade unless they were severe. Wild's ear, for once, couldn't be easily brought back to its previous state. In the end, it would be up to him to take the treatment for his scars or decline the opportunity. Luna knew some ponies were sentimental about this sort of thing.

"Oh, Wild," she whispered, being careful not to wake him up, "I am so sorry you went through what you did. I promise I will do everything in my power to help you," she looked over him. How could anyone want to hurt anyone like that? Well, she knew the answer - some people were simply evil, "You may not be ready for my help now, but I hope you will be, one day."

Author's Note

The dream in the beginning is partially based on what I dreamed of not long before I wrote this chapter. The TV part with weird images and incomprehensible text part. I have no idea why I dreamed that, and the rest of the dream was also some complete nonsense.

Now to the heavier topic. I have dropped various hints throughout the story, and I think it's time a clearer picture is painted.

Luna is entirely correct about what Wild went through even if she doesn't know the exact details. In short, it is true that Wild was once kept in sexual slavery, escaped, and killed people who enslaved him. The details may or may not be revealed in the future, but there will be no explicit sexual violence.

Now, I also understand that some of you may feel like Luna overstepped when she eyed Wild while he slept. It is definitely uncomfortable from our point of view. Though I, personally, wouldn't feel all that bad about doing something similar either. However, I do have to admit that I don't have the same sense of boundaries as other people may have, so I apologize for that.

In any case, the in-story explanation for this is that ponies practice casual nudity. They're unbothered by nudity in general, and so everything surrounding it isn't nearly as sensitive a topic as it is when it comes to us. In this situation, she hasn't done anything worse than, say, someone eyeing a scar on a person's exposed forearms in public somewhere in the US.

In addition to that, Luna was not really aware how it could be interpreted. As I previously noted in the story, she is demisexual, so it didn't enter her mind that eyeing Wild where she was could be interpreted as a possibly sexually-interested kind of look.

For the record, she is not experiencing any romantic or sexual desire towards Wild and never will be. She is an adult figure responsible for him. Obviously not his mother, but certainly his teacher and his caretaker. She would have to be a vile person in order to think of taking advantage of him, let alone go through with it.

Also, Celestia would recognize the significance of that scar too, but virtually everyone else aside from specific historians would be generally ignorant of its meaning.

Now that Luna knows about it, she uncovered a clue about who Wild is and what made him the way he is. She can form a strategy to help Wild overcome his trauma, and I am definitely looking forward to that.

This chapter was once two chapters, but I felt like the flow of the story wouldn't be right with the previous arrangement with my update schedule, so I combined them.