Escape

Ideal after the short massacre, broke her chains. The white and green mare even had the help of another mare in breaking them. In return Ideal helped her.

That was the only sign of solidarity between the prisoners.

At least they weren´t stupid enough to go alone. Instead, they went in groups. Different groups scavenged the corpses of the fallen, ponies and griffons. Soon after many tried making a run for it. Some groups going into the great icy tundra. Meanwhile others stood there asking each other what to do.

Ideal of course being a leader went up to one these clueless groups “, we should go to camp and meet up with our apparent saviours. If they won.” She exclaims in her usual tone.

“And if they didn´t?” Asks a stallion

“Then we will flee and die.”

“You mean “or”.”

“No, it is too late for that. We already broke our chains.” Ideal explains with an indifferent tone. The sudden realisation hit the group, remembering the threats the griffon made. She knows in her current state their chances of surviving the tundra are low. “Now, follow, we have no time to lose,” she tells them, going to the admin building, with them following soon after, having no better plan.

I am not a fan of mazes. They aren´t fun. Not because they are too complicated, no, they are often way too easy. But this building is hell. Now I realize, mazes aren´t fun either way, either they are too hard or too easy.

Or it´s just the circumstances i´m facing. This building, it is built in a way to confuse enemies in case of a shoot out or something. That´s my theory at least if it is a building for the military.

At least I found a staircase, which tells me I’m in the right floor.

Of course, there are signs showing me where you can find the room you´re looking for. Problem is, I can´t read them. The writing is alien to me. So, there I am looking for an exit, in a now proven unknown location. Distanced so much by where I am supposed to be that I can´t recognise the writing. But at least I speak the same language.

Oh, there is the exit. The secretary didn´t even bother to close it. I go through the door and now … what…

…

There is a cold tundra. The only noticeable things are the building behind me and these shaky looking longhouses behind barbed wire. Wait, these are for the prisoners the griffon mentioned.

I landed at a prison. Do I want to meet the prisoners? Probably not.

So, I should go from this place. This camp. But where?

I have nowhere to go. Even if I had. I´m in the middle of nowhere. I already feel the cold. If I go out there I could di-ie.

I could have died the whole time.

I-I *sniff*

Ideal looked to the stallion that spoke to her first in the group. “What´s your name.”

“Fruity Loops, yours?”

“Ideal Idea.” That was the end of their conversation, as they continue their journey.

They both look back at where they are going. And when they went through the last curve inside the forest leaving it, they saw the admin building from behind.

“I haven´t seen so much death in my- “

Ideal interrupts Fruity “There isn´t anyone. It´s too quiet.” After all, there should be a large group that would be able to get rid of the guards, and they couldn´t have left so quickly. The rest of the group quiets seeing the results of a one-sided battle. They listen and only hear the howling of the wind. And the rustling of the nearby trees.

“Maybe they´re inside?” says Fruity.

“Yes, maybe.” So, they continue

The group is at the concrete cube that is the administrative building. Fruity looks around the last corner to the entrance.

Looks a little longer, and then like he saw a ghost sprang back. “By all that’s holy, we gotta go,” he says in a loud whisper.

“What is it?” asks one in the group.

“An alicorn! She killed all those guards, by herself!”

The rest of them of course don´t believe him. One of the mares replies, “Typical stallion, just overreacting …” she looks over the corner, then quickly moves into the other direction “, yeah let´s go.”

Then another mare looks over and comments. “OH, it is just a poor child..”

Fruity responds “Well this child could pop our heads like balloons. You know what you saw and what the myths say, it´s a damn demigod.”

“But it´s just a filly . She looks like she is maybe five, years old.”

Ideal Idea at this point looks for herself. And sees exactly as described a crying alicorn filly. Weeping her eyes out in the snow. But she not only sees a crying child. She sees an opportunity and a very, very risky plan.

Ideal thinks over the pros and cons of her idea. Shortly making her decision.

To the shock of the others Ideal turns the corner and approaches the filly who doesn´t notice her.

She then hugs her. As best as she can, comforting someone is very much out of her comfort zone.