Salvation | Rebirth

One week had passed since Wild received his name. It passed rather quickly despite him not having many things to do aside from watching other ponies and learning the language from Princess Celestia. With the latter, he turned out to be pretty good at it - by the end of the week, he could understand certain simple sentences and knew how to call a large variety of items. Of course, it was still a long way ahead of him to be able to converse in this language freely, but he felt he would be able to do it well enough in a year at worst if his progress continued at the same pace. He had a sneaking suspicion magic helped him learn. He expected to have more difficulty with learning his third language, yet he was improving daily in a way he considered significant. Simply put, he gained understanding of things just from a few examples without needing much practice. He didn't exactly remember how he learned either of his two first languages, considering that he was taught them since he was young, but he certainly didn't expect to have such ease in learning the third. He could now understand the structure of the sentences, which was similar to Russian and English, the two languages he knew. Perhaps it contributed to his quick rate of learning.

There were no exams, no quizzes, no questionnaires, nothing to test his knowledge in any way outside of listening to others and trying to understand what was being said. It was odd, to say the least. However, he wasn't complaining - everything was proceeding just fine the way it was. He couldn't speak, but Celestia was teaching him the pony version of a sign language - certain gestures performed with his head, ears, and front hooves. This was what he had more difficulty with, and he failed to grasp what the pattern of how words connected through those signs was, but it still proceeded well enough.

Outside of language learning, Wild was very interested in the local swordsmanship club, and he often observed them, studying the way they moved and fought. Four legs certainly provided more stability, as well as more power, but it also meant striking just one limb would often be debilitating. On the other side, he and other unicorns didn't need to fear where their weapons went because their magic was unaffected by strikes, making it difficult to disarm them. Of course, earth ponies and pegasi had no such advantage - their muzzles as well as their harnesses could be struck. Unicorns had to be especially protective of their horns, as horns were rather delicate as far as withstanding weapon strikes went - a good blunt strike on the horn would disable their magic for a few precious seconds, making unicorns far more vulnerable.

To Wild, it was clear he needed to learn both types of combat - with and without magic. This way, he would be ready for everything. Or he needed to become skillful enough to avoid any damage to his horn in the first place. Of course, he could always do both - nothing stopped him from spending extra time on his training aside from his own will, and he expected the training to be harsh. Many times, he saw ponies leaving the swordsmanship club completely exhausted, practically dragging themselves to rest. This, as far as he was concerned, was good - it meant the training wasn't just for show. He would certainly join them once he was ready.

One day, he walked up to the shooting range and watched how ponies used crossbows. The pony crossbows were almost the same as human ones, and they were shot from a sitting position by non-unicorns. They aimed by holding the end - a D-shaped handle like on the swords - with their maws, the front with one of their forehooves, and pulled a large trigger with their other forehoof. Undoubtedly, unicorns had it easier - they only had to use their telekinesis to hold and shoot the crossbow, allowing them to be mobile, while other pony tribes, no matter how quick they were, had to stop, especially to reload. Thankfully, there was a somewhat animal-shaped attachment one could use to pull the string of the crossbow back without as much effort as would otherwise be required if they tried to pull the string directly. Even unicorns found such a contraption useful.

Wild decided to try his telekinesis at shooting a crossbow. He picked one up and, under a watchful gaze of an overseeing adult, pulled the string, then loaded the bolt, and aimed it at the target - a pony-shaped straw dummy with a target painted on it. Without proper sights, the former human could only align the length of the bolt in a straight line towards where he intended to hit, and then pull the trigger. The bolt shot forward, but slightly to the left, ending up impacting the dummy in the shoulder. An undoubtedly debilitating shot for an equine, yet it would have certainly glanced off if there was decent armor or get stuck before reaching the flesh if it was a simple gambeson - a jacket made of layers of cloth. The crossbow he was holding certainly didn't have enough power to penetrate anything above that kind of armor even at better angles.

Wild wondered whether he should try making guns. He was no gunsmith, but he had read many things about guns and how they work, and it wouldn't be too difficult to make something as straightforward as a muzzle-loader. But then, there was a question - should he bring such an invention to this world? He did enjoy shooting, but was it worth giving ponies a way to kill each other more efficiently? He didn't think so - he enjoyed the peace he experienced so far and hoped it would last. Technological limitations of pony warfare would probably dissuade them from becoming killers. After all, it was far easier to shoot someone than to stab or slash them - the latter was far bloodier and more traumatizing, more personal, and Wild thought ponies didn't really have it in them to do something like this as easily as humans did for thousands of years. Ponies looked way too... innocent, generally cheerful, and simply more pleasant to be around with. They had furs of all colors, making Wild wonder how they managed to survive this far without having any sort of camouflage to hide them in the wild. And their faces... they were so expressive, and also very pleasant to look at. They weren't the faces of predators, nor were they ugly flat faces of unpredictable and surprisingly violent humans. In some ways, ponies looked like cuddly toys for children, the notion which was reinforced by their positive day-to-day attitude Wild could clearly see.

After sending another bolt downrange, the former human thought that maybe he wasn't being tricked. He didn't know much about ponies just yet, so he reserved his suspicions, but he did have to admit that they seemed far more peaceful than humans. In the days he spent there in Equestria, he saw few conflicts arise between ponies, and they were solved quickly and peacefully. He hadn't seen a single fight, a single punch, a single spit in the face or even an angry shove. Back in his first life, he heard rumors of what happened at various orphanages, including abuses of magnitude he had no desire to describe. Various gang activity, abusive adults, and just plain poor living conditions seemed to be commonplace, although he had not once seen an orphanage. However, orphaned foals here were having fun and growing up well as if nothing was wrong at all.

Which left him puzzled - how could it happen so well? When there is power, someone will seek to abuse it for their own ends, always. When there is an incentive of profit over the well-being of others, it will be taken. Why didn't it happen here? He wasn't disappointed, of course, but merely confused - it all seemed way too perfect for his liking, and so he ended up wondering what kind of dark secret he would uncover sooner or later.

His last bolt missed the target, and he noticed he was slightly shaking. He took a deep breath, then put the crossbow away. These thoughts reminded him of memories he would like to never touch again. For a moment, he sat in place, breathing deeply, pushing those memories down and away from himself. Soon, the invisible pressure on his mind eased, and he allowed himself to make a quiet, tired sigh. He decided to walk around and burn off that excess negativity still left in him. Maybe ponies were simply better and there was no abuse going on, at least he hoped so.

Unbeknownst to him, Celestia observed him from afar, and she was amazed - Wild managed to operate the crossbow on a good level despite likely never seeing it before. She didn't fail to notice the weird form of telekinesis he was using - his aura took the shape of a pair of hands instead of being formless. They also stayed visible without touching anything, which was even more surprising - unicorns almost always had their aura around an object they were manipulating, and very few could make their aura just hang in the air by itself even for a short amount of time. She wondered why exactly his aura was behaving this way - was it because he grew up around monkeys and apes? Some of them certainly lived in the Everfree and were known to be pretty intelligent and resourceful. However, Wild's movements were more precise as if he had done similar things before. It was certainly something to think about.

So far, Wild had proven to be tame, contrary to his name and to the first time Celestia saw him. He kept to himself, never spoke, never attacked anyone, never even approached anyone. He avoided close contact and never approached ponies except to watch them from a distance. His face showed no emotions whatsoever most of the time, although Celestia knew he could feel and express them, such as when she first saw him - she saw fear, she saw panic, and she also saw anger in him. She wished she could learn more about him, but he either didn't understand or ignored her questions about him. Her sister was also unable to find anything about him, as she wasn't able to find his dreams.

Celestia wondered why he never spoke - he clearly had a certain understanding of speech, and he should also be physically capable of it. However, she had not once heard the sound of his voice, not even a single vowel. He certainly did hum to himself a couple times as well as chuckle, and these were the only intelligent vocalizations she had heard from him so far. Never once had he made an 'ah', 'oh', or 'uh'. In fact, he had never opened his mouth to vocalize anything. Clearly his facial structure wasn't the issue - he could eat and drink just fine. So, what was it instead?

The stallion continued to be as mysterious as ever, especially now that the princesses knew the Everfree Forest had no other ponies hiding anywhere. As far as evidence went, Wild appeared out of nowhere. No one had heard of him, no one had ever seen him, and the only trace of his existence were hoof marks in the dark soil of the Everfree, which disappeared in but a few days.

Just where did he come from?

Deep in the evening, Wild finished his usual routine of showering, brushing his teeth - now with the aid of an actual toothbrush - and going to bed. He lay on his stomach, his legs sprawling, and he breathed evenly as he recounted what happened during the day and slowly drifted off to sleep. For this entire week, neither regular dreams nor nightmares bothered him, allowing him to rest well and be full of energy the next day. He hadn't had such a peaceful week in what seemed like years, and he was glad he was able to rest without feeling like a wrung out rag the day after. His dark thoughts, his fears and anxieties, and his anger were kept at bay, for now.

His body relaxed, and he felt the sleep coming. However, he also felt like he was flying, as if he was suddenly weightless. He opened his eyes and noticed that he was hovering above his body as it slept without him inside. He blinked in confusion, but his body remained still, certainly asleep. He looked around - it was his room just as he left it before going to sleep. The moon was quickly and steadily rising outside the window, and a light breeze let in fresh air through the slightly open window. The evening insects were chirping just outside, adding to the peaceful ambiance.

Wild looked at himself and saw that he was nothing more than a black smoke-like cloud. The mirror on the wardrobe next to him showed the same, only he had two deep red ragged holes for eyes and no more defining features. The smoke comprising his 'body' swirled and wavered in an unseen wind, and his eyes were something different entirely. They were piercing, burning with bottled-up anger and hate, as well as fear and loathing. In them, he saw what he so tried to avoid thinking about - he saw himself, miserable and tired and angry. His life was nothing but fighting one battle after the other, dealing with disasters until his very end. He knew how it all began - his parents once fled a collapsing country, seeking better life elsewhere. As he knew, things did look up for a while, and his parents decided to have him. Perhaps there was a chance his life would be good, but little did his parents know how it would all turn out.

Wild finally looked away from his own eyes, shaken by the experience, desiring to never gaze into them again. He knew how his life followed, he knew where and how it ended, and he knew every painful moment that led him there. He needed something else to think about.

Finally, there was a question - was he having an out of body experience? Last he heard, they were simple imaginations and weren't actually out of body. Despite his disturbing experience with looking into himself, he was Interested. If he had an out of body experience, maybe he could do something that would prove it to him once he woke up. At first, he tried to open the wardrobe while avoiding looking into the mirror. He failed as he couldn't grasp the handle, the tendril he made for his hand simply passed through, only giving him a faint tingling sensation. He frowned - or at least he thought he frowned - and tried to leave his room by opening the door. Likewise, he couldn't touch it, never mind open it. He inhaled deeply and then simply walked - or floated - through it. It was a strange experience - he got very close to the door, then there was darkness as he went through, then he was in the living room. He passed his head - or what he imagined his eyes were in - through the door multiple times at different speeds, and achieved confirmation - when his eyes were inside the door, he couldn't see anything, it was as black as it could be. If one of his eyes was covered by the door, it also didn't see anything. Being partially covered made that part black as well. It was somewhat disturbing, to say the least.

He heard someone whispering just outside his door. His body tensed - or at least he expected it to. He noted that the tension he felt was inside his mind and, on inspection, his actual body was still in the bed, relaxed, deeply asleep. Carefully, he made his way to the entrance door and effortlessly passed through it. There was no one on the outside, but something made him look up at the glass ceiling. The stars were twinkling, and the moon was now high in the sky. Some of the stars almost looked as if they were observing him, gazing at him with interest. He shivered mentally, then looked around more. There was not a pony in sight, and he reasoned everyone had to be in their beds by this time. Of course, presuming he was actually experiencing the outside world and not what his imagination painted in its stead.

He looked from the second floor to the first, wondering if he could simply phase through the glass and be fine. He tried, walking straight through it, and noticed that he didn't fall. As soon as he thought about going down, he did, and he quickly reached the floor without hitting it. It was as if someone carefully lowered him by ropes or wires attached to his body in a way that he wouldn't notice, but here was no such contraption - he did everything himself.

A whisper came from the hall leading further into the mansion. He wanted to investigate what it was, so he slowly followed, cautiously looking around as he went. He wasn't afraid of the dark, but he had that disturbing and persistent feeling of being watched, and he had no idea who they were or where they were watching from. It certainly wasn't Princess Celestia - he would've noticed her by then. She had improved her invisibility spell since he had first seen her use it, but her presence was still noticeable. This time, there was simply nothing but a faint yet certain feeling of... not quite danger, but he had to be wary.

He made his way almost to the entrance of the hall before he saw a dark figure appear from around a corner - it was an alicorn judging by the shape he could see. The alicorn stopped upon noticing him, clearly surprised. For a moment, the two stood in silence, simply looking at each other. Beyond the general shape of the alicorn, Wild couldn't see anything that would define them, but he knew they weren't Princess Celestia - this alicorn was both shorter and smaller, and their mane flowed in a different way, as well as looked entirely different - it was a sea of stars instead of the different stripes of color.

"Who are you?" a feminine voice asked.

In what seemed like an instant, he was lying awake in his bed, his heart beating loudly. Was it just a dream? He looked around - the room was just like he remembered in this dream. It wasn't enough for him to be certain about anything, but he felt like it wasn't a dream at all. In which case, he wondered, did he really just walk outside his own body? And if he did, who was there in the hall?

He didn't want to know, definitely not yet. This possibility simply scared him, and he wanted nothing more than the new day to come. He closed his eyes, pushed his thoughts away, and calmed his body. After a while, he was back asleep, this time without any adventures.

On the first floor of the dormitories, Princess Luna stood, a look of puzzlement on her face. Her spell revealed no nightmare made real nor a rogue spirit - everyone was how they were supposed to be. Some foals were awake, many were asleep, but that was it.

Just who was there in front of her?