Chapters Her neck hurts. The spring bed doesn´t have a pillow, nor will she get a pillow any time soon. They´re a scarce good. She can barely afford her daily requirements, like food, which consist of an egg, porridge, and if she saved enough, something with hay.
Her home isn´t known for its wide fields.
She takes out a cigarette. This is also a big blow to her budget, but they have become a necessity. She knows it isn´t good, for her health and cash, but she doesn´t care for the longevity of her live. All her saved up money, if any, goes to sudden and unexpected costs.
Maybe she could take a higher wage?
No, she won´t abuse her position. The Front needs every cent. She can´t waste them.
Also, it might be suspicious if she were to get richer out of nowhere.
What about a roommate?
Maybe, but they would have to be “in on things.” That would be a hassle she doesn´t have time for.
After the forceful resettlement by the griffons, they had to live in this concrete hell. Better than homelessness, certainly. At least for the ones lucky enough even getting one, like her. They weren´t enough for all relocated earth ponies.
The griffons, the government, didn´t care. Why should they?
Have the other races similar situations? Probably, if she wants to know, she just has to ask in the next meeting. Ideal Idea looks over to her mirror. Her green mane is short like that of Stallion, just as she likes it, needs less maintenance. Her white coat is … good enough, and her cutie mark, showing her fate, of a pickaxe is still unchanged.
She hates it. Being told what she is and should be, ought to be a crime. Her destiny is hers and hers alone and not for “fate” to decide.
While she can´t choose her cutie mark, she doesn´t even really remember when she got it, she can choose what to interpret in it. Maybe it represents her being good at mining. Maybe she is good at making pickaxes. But perhaps, that´s her hope, it shows her to represent the workers.
It is a nice thought. But just a thought, nonetheless, she tells herself, “Thoughts and symbols, they are just that.”
With the daily musing over she makes her usual breakfast.
In a basement poorly lit by single light bulb. A group of many races is meeting. Ideal may not show it but she is happy everyone made it to the building, lying far away of the earth pony township.
“Comrades” Ideal Idea says in a flat tone “Have the anti-disguise spells been cast?”
“Yes” says a unicorn “I still can´t believe these traitors are collaborating and fighting against their own interest.” She quickly looks to a changeling “Nothing against you or your kind of course, Mandible.”
“No offense taken.”
“Well, it is just like Caramel Marks said. They have been lied to into thinking that the interest of their oppressors is the same as their own ... or they are bribed.” The earth pony says in her unchanging emotionless tone. “To more pressing matters. How are your statuses?”
The griffon starts “If I may begin. It hasn´t been hard to get sympathies to our cause but no new members. As you can guess no one is willing to fight to the death if they have things to lose, so nothing new on our side. By the side, we may get into contact with smuggler. Otherwise, nothing new.”
“Very well. Let us go clockwise, mandible do you have any news.”
The changeling continues “Sources tell me our HQ has been compromised.”
All except Ideal react one way or another, the unicorn gives the changeling a death stare, the griffon groans, and the Pegasus says “Mandible, you imbecile. Why haven´t you told us sooner. We should relocate as soon as possible.”
“I agree.” Says Ideal calmly taking puff of her cigarette.
In a moment of cosmic hatred. Sounds can be heard throughout the building.
With no time for reaction griffon soldiers in black kick in doors and windows. All are knocked down with militaristic precision, tackled, immediately cuffed, and unable to fight back. While their faces are pressed down on the wooden floor the apparent leader of the soldiers speak “You have been accused and found guilty of treasonous activity. You are hereby sent to rehabilitative labour.”
Good, Ideal concludes, they don´t know she is the leader otherwise she would have been shot on the spot. Ever the optimist.
She could eat her own thoughts. The situation was anything but “good”. Not actually wanting to think at the ramifications of her situation, she thinks about the group’s situation. The movement is now without leadership. A power vacuum that has to be filled… somehow.
“The Front of Liberation” finds a new and hopefully competent leader. Or well, dissolve.
Her whole movement also needs a different name “The Front of Liberation” sounds fake. But names are secondary, she has more pressing issues.
She can dream, hope and think about politics all she wants, her current physical situation isn´t any good. It reeks of piss, someone relieved him/herself in the crowded train cart. She has to admit the “National Griffon Organisation”-also a stupid name in her mind- is very effective at their oppression. She already feels her pessimism and hopelessness seeping through. But she must always plan, think of long terms plans, and not get feelings in the way of revolution.
A little idealistic, sure.
They pulled a Razia so quick taking down the whole secret base in under few seconds. They made a trial on the spot and moved her on the next train, she wasn´t even able to comprehend what happened. She looks around the cart in an attempt to find someone she can recognise. No such luck.
No, it is luck in disguise. If no fellow earth pony she recognises is here, then that means that they weren´t captured. It would have been stupid, for all of them being in one spot.
If she had even a fraction of the resources that the National Organisation has, this revolution and liberation would be done in a heartbeat.
She heard stories of the labour camps of the tundra. Barely enough food except the bare necessities, everyone is crowded, making them hotbeds of diseases. And the cold will creep through the bare minimum of clothing that is given. There are also the guards which are probably the worst part.
Not a nice place, Ideal concludes laconically.
She lets out a sigh, she really needs cigarette now.
They were given “new” clothes, tools –she fittingly got a pickaxe-, their hindlegs were shackled, and they were told to move.
Oh joy, she thinks sarcastically, my new probably short life. To see is, well, a labour camp. Barbed wire telling the prisoners were to go and not go. Griffon guards in black positioned at every imaginable place with guard towers. She is already freezing, even with the clothing they gave.
Does this place make profit with that many guards? They probably want to just torture everyone with what is essentially slavery.
She also notes that all prisoner presents are earth ponies. They even segregated the labour camps, she concludes, probably to avoid the races noticing their similarities and developing solidarity.
Getting ripped out her theorising by a rude guard who pushes her every few seconds, because she is the last one in line, she walks by a concrete administrative and a barrack building for the guards.
The long walk to the actual camp, the wooden barracks for her fellow prisoners and her, comes to an end to an end. At which point they had to orderly stand in line. Her snot feels like it is freezing inside her nose.
There is a guard that says words and insults that are not worth to remember, then tells the prisoners that they will work as soon as possible.
Which is now.
She minimised work as much as possible, wanting to reserve energy. But that is not a possibility when a guard looked over her shoulders. She had to mine iron. With a pickaxe.
She hated it. Getting a little iron y considering her mark. She rolled in her sheets totally exhausted with the days’ work. And her reward was porridge, which will be her main source of nutrition for the foreseeable future. It was a small change, but one for the worse, she missed the egg.
At the very least she knows that her cutie mark doesn´t reflect her talent in mining.
Will she escape, going through the death sentence that is the tundra? Inspire a revolt? Yeah, wishful thinking. She could hope. Hope for outside help. But that isn´t really a plan. Get outside contact by bribing a guard? With what?
She hears crying from another resident.
Ideal isn´t a mare of emotions but she could certainly sympathise with the sopping stallion. With her muscles aching and the little warmth in the barrack she quickly falls asleep.
Waking up by a shrill wake-up-siren, still with her clothes on, she doesn´t dare to take them off. She with her fellow ponies’ trot towards the gathering place. Her neck still hurts, thanks to the non-existent pillow, again.
Now standing with the others in the cold open, the griffon tells them what to do and splitting the ponies into groups. It was at this point that a stray realisation hit her, they will have no free time on Friday. The government is weirdly strict on having Friday a holiday, there isn´t even a working hour limit, but Friday still is a holiday. Rumour says, it is because of some esoteric belief that is held by the martial Theodoro. He still calls himself martial, even though he practically controls the whole continent.
The Frontier is at its peak of stability. Which is bad for her. Theodoro and his thugs imprisoned and killed all the opposition before they even got the idea of rebelling in a swift coup.
The Frontier was a great experiment, a paragon of equality. Even for her high standards. All gone, in what? A few years?
When was the last time she smiled? Did she ever? She remembers a probably happy childhood. With a tight knit community. Not only of earth ponies. Even going as far having non-earth pony friends. She doesn´t remember their names. But their faces. She had one griffon and one unicorn friend. She of course saw none of them after they were forced into the segregated communities.
Afterwards she was stuffed into an overcrowded school with too few teachers. With no friends she spent her time with hate, and some of those books she got, ~~although~~ because they were illegal. And with these books she had a face for her enemy. Not the griffon, but the rulers.
To be fair, she tells herself, even if she never smiles, she also never cries, or is angry beyond mildly annoyed. There is no reason for her to be too pessimistic about her life. She even considers herself optimistic.
Afterall she must expect the worst and work for the best possible future.
And for now she is allowed to hope for a miracle but not expect it.
Everything after her childhood happened naturally. She became leader not because of her charisma, she can´t raise her tone to save her life, but because she was the only one not to fear the position. The whole time as the leader, she tried to get equipment, gather support, assassinate important figures, as you do with a group with militant government haters, with no outside help. It is probably one of the most frustrating work someone could endure.
Fact is they, the government, have all the guns, and she is in a labour camp, with only thin clothing being her property.
She is getting lost in thoughts again. Time to work another day.
Guards shackled the hind legs of the ponies one by one. They weren´t too restricting, after all they still had to be able to work. But they made running impossible. And they made it clear from the beginning. A pony who escapes or breaks from their shackles will be shot. The leading Griffon was still telling them what to do, while the workers were taking their tools from a pile. They then start to walk to the mine. At least they have the luck not to live inside the mine.
*CRASH*
*BANG*
There is a short moment filled with murmurs, questioning the source of the explosion. “Shut UP!” screams a griffon. The leading griffon goes to one of his colleagues, picks up a radio that is bigger than her head. “Base this is overseer Catherin report status, over”. The walk didn´t stop but it slowed down.
After a few seconds of nothing and more sounds of gunshots she points at two other guard griffons “You two, scout the happenings at base and report back”. After seconds of thinking Catherin turns her back to the group “It is your lucky day, you will go back to the barracks until this is sorted out. We will get the lost working hours back, at a later day.”
And so, the whole group turns around.
There has to be a perfect word for the things I´m feeling right now. But I´m no poet. Scarred, yes definitely. Angry, kind of? Shocked, yes.
Terrified, that has to be it.
I´m in an unknown situation, in an unknown place with unknown things and happenings. I mean the first thing I saw was a corpse. Well, still is. A corpse of bird lion thing wearing a black soldier’s uniform. I am sitting in a concrete room with half a wall being punched in.
These are good reasons to be blankly starring at this corpse not knowing what to do next.
Then I made a connection. Maybe I did that, how else did I come here. But what happened before, I could only guess.
The unknown past, the unknown place, and the unknown creature scared me, sure. But after another of these, I guess, Griffons steps in, I turn from terrified to horrified.
He sees the things in the room, and he too – I guess it’s a He- came to a conclusion. With his conclusion, he takes a pistol into his talons.
And shoots at me.
And that is where angry came in. This bastard doesn´t let me explain myself, and takes a shoot first ask questions later doctrine.
How I have enough time to become angry is explained by the bullets stopping in the middle of the air, like time was frozen, for a short while.
How this came to be I can´t reason, I also don´t have enough time nor the condition examine this.
The Bullet flies back to the Griffon. Killing it or him.
“W-what?” Of course, the Bangs of a gunshot aren´t the quietest things. Shortly after that, I hear shouting through the halls. The griffon obviously didn´t close the door before he died. If the next griffon enters this room, they will come to the same conclusion. As the last one.
Did I kill him?
If so, it was self-defence. Making it ethically and judicially defensible.
What am I thinking? I have to go.
So, I step up.
And fall. My breathing quickens even more than before, making it hurt. I quickly try something else.
Picking up the gun, by crawling towards it, well it is better than nothing.
Even though I have no chance against what appear to be soldiers. Except if, reality defying is now a regular thing.
The thing looks like the fucking Mauser. I put it into my pockeeetsssss- I don´t have any pockets. In fact, this thing is as long as half of my arm. My arm, did it always look like that? My hooves? It feels weird. Pulling me away from the situation and panic attack.
Wait how do I even look?
Another shout disturbs me from my train of thought. Two of them now stand in front of me now. And they also fire.
Coming to same conclusion, as the last griffon, as it seems.
Now I have two extra corpses lying in front of me. They look big in comparison to me. I have a guardian spirit or something like that.
I have to flee. I already feel the cold of the outside. Some snowflakes are flying in. Through the hole in the wall. I crawl to the missing wall. I don´t question why there was a hole in the wall. I poke my head out and see …
Guard towers, barbed wire everywhere, I am at the second floor, it looks like a large fall and most importantly there are more of them walking and flying into my direction. One of those Griffons sees me, points at me and screams “A Unicorn. Shoot her.”.
No pressure though.
Shortly after feeling like I am going to be deaf. So much lead getting shot and then catapulted back. There now lay enough corpses in the double digits.
Why did they do it?
What did I do that they just shot at me? And some of them didn´t even shoot and the excess bullets still killed them. Why it even happened too isn´t answered in the slightest.
It is finally silent.
Am I even in danger? Was I ever in danger? With this weird ghost thing protecting me.
I can´t really say that I am save in a military camp that is filled with soldiers. That also dislike me. To put it mildly. I can´t think of it now. I must flee from this damn place.
////
Flowery Smile, former florist now forcefully employed by the labour camp, nicely named Camp earth P. Tundra North, is currently walking in the group of ponies moving back to their housing. Flowery didn´t do anything to be here. At least in her opinion. After all the police, had the opinion that she had “suspicious behaviour”.
And without court or something someone with the brain size of pea could consider a court, she went. She only was smiling and happily bouncing around. That´s because it´s her normal general demeanour.
That is probably why she stayed so long in the camp. Not only didn´t the guards like her, but she gave herself the mission to motivate the other prisoners. But with so little free time she can´t help them all.
She had built some friendships. That is why one of her biggest dreams is to play games with her new friends, when they all can enjoy their friendships in freedom.
The game of Ogres and Oubliettes never got finished at home, and new players are always welcome.
She of course like all the others heard the sounds coming from the direction of the admin building.
“Recon hasn´t come back.” Says one soldiers out of ten to another griffon.
The other griffon responds, “Do you know what that could mean?”
And always the optimistic Flowery Smile answers for them “Someone is freeing us!” she screamed happily.
Then not soon after, one earth pony took it as their call. They wedged a pickaxe into a griffon who was standing near them.
This motivated additional angry pony prison population.
The guards couldn´t organize fast enough, they weren´t prepared. The rest fled.
I finally learned to walk. While of course not very fast, I at least got out of the room. I think the corpse was an officer. Probably some high ranking dude, judging from the décor, and the highly decorated corpse. Well not that it matters now. I walk, or better said, sway and wobble my way through the halls.
I open a door and see a griffon sitting at a desk filled with papers, who is drinking some applejuice coloured beverage directly out of a bottle.
“Now do it quick. I´m just the secretary.” He speaks.
“What?” I ask a little confused. Yes, only a little confused.
No, of course I am absolutely baffled. He responds “, I mean "do the job” as they say. I stand no chance against you. I saw what you did outside the window.”
“But I didn´t want to do that.” I´m not even sure if I did that.
“You didn´t?” A pregnant pause hangs in the air for a while. My statement is enough for him to stand up “, lucky me. Now with so few guards remaining, the prisoners will likely revolt.” He takes some things from his desk. “I will get court martialled for this. But I won´t die in this dumpster fire soon to be happening.” With that he leaves the room through the door I just entered.
Didn´t he just state that he is a secretary? A civilian. Why would he get court martialled? Heck if I know. But thanks to him, I now notice, I was going the wrong direction to be heading out. So, I follow his lead.
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.
I suddenly feel something fluffy and warm squeezing me. While my rational self says that a stranger hugging me is a no go, my emotional standpoint and the comfort are overturning any decision I would make.
After an uncomfortable amount of time, draining my tear ducts into its fur and cloth, I gain enough composure to look up her. A pony. I notice then, I´m smaller than a pony.
“Do you have parents?” I guess she, she asks in an even tone.
“I- “for how old does she hold me? In fact, how old am I? Wait, am I young? Apparently, judging by my height and her behaviour towards me. After all I appear to be of the same specie as her. Then where are my parents? Do I even have parents? I mean of course I have parents, but are they still alive or dead? “don´t know.”
I have -probably- caused the deaths of multiple living beings in a short amount of time and now I´m getting hugged. I´m distressed to say the least, but I´m comfortable, physically speaking
After some more silence and looking at each other, she hesitantly starts stroking my hair. “My name is Ideal Idea. What is yours.”
At this I would have cried if I still could. Isn´t the personhood bound to a name? What makes me different from an animal if I don´t have a name? How could I even operate in a society if I don´t have name. I must have one, but “I don´t know.” Maybe I´m thinking too much into it.
“You don´t have anywhere to go, do you?” She asks it like it is normal question.
“No”. It´s the same story. There are no explanations to give.
“Do you want to go with me. We will go out of this place.”
That was my original plan, but my mood of today has been destroyed. So, I just nod. At least I´m not forced to anything or getting shot at. That´s a step up.
Ideal is happy the plan worked out, frightened by the child in her hooves and sympathetic to her sadness. Of course, she doesn´t show it.
But she still is happy, no, satisfied that the gamble of settling the alicorn worked out.
Even satisfied to -if she played her cards right- gain an asset for the revolution. She knows thinking of a child as an asset isn´t very healthy, but theoretically this child could triumph over the strongest unicorn and defeat an entire army. Not only in theory, but the child also very obviously killed what amounts to a whole legion on purpose or not.
This could be a problem later on. The filly could throw a temper tantrum and burn down entire villages, cities, military bases or … country sides or… entire countries- She should stop that line of thought.
She must guide her.
That sounds more religious than it should have.
Now to more pressing concerns “,listen. I have some colleagues over there. We will get everything we can from this place and go, OK?”. She didn´t even know how many were in the group, maybe a dozen. It´s still a mystery to her how this group even formed and then started to follow her. They just gathered, she went over to them, and they listened to her.
Does she have some kind of aura? Or are they really that planless.
It´s always nice to be de-facto leader.
The child nods further thinking of her situation.
“Come over here!” She yells to the group behind the corner. They reluctantly come, watching the spectacle that is the alicorn child. Meanwhile the small child looks at the snowy floor pretending not to notice them. Ideal removed herself from the alicorn.
“We will have to gain rations. We need cooperate if we want to survive the tundra,” They focused back to her, she says not in a commanding tone, still in the tone she is always using which sounds rather bored. “You will loot the corpses.” she points at the half of the group with fruity. “Gather all the clothing, money, weapons, and ammunition you can carry.” She then points to the other half of the group. “You will gather rations with me inside the building and quick. The army won´t take their time when they notice.” She wants to assume the position of their leader.
Thanks to their –the military- “no mercy” approach to “deserters” and “cowards”, Ideal and her group don´t have to worry about those that fled. They won´t inform the army in fear.
One more brutal and ultimately stupid decisions of theirs which will lead to their downfalls.
The group slowly avert their attention back at the alicorn. “Now,” she says with the same tone. They react and do as they are told.
Perfect.
She looks to the child “Do you want to go with me?” After a short amount of time the grey filly nods stand up and slowly walks too Ideal. Too slowly. She lets out a sigh. “Let me carry you.”
The group now walks in the forest. Night is already setting. But for a change they don´t feel like freezing. It is still cold, for sure. They still can see their breaths. But with the extra clothes, even if some of them have frozen blood on them, things are better.
The clothing is uncomfortable, not made for ponies. They unsurprisingly didn´t have clothing in filly size, so Ideal had to wrap her up.
They could have used the vehicles, trucks, and the like to escape. But sadly, all the vehicles have been taken. Ideal assumes from guards as well as fugitives that have fled.
Fruity Loops asks Ideal “, why are we even carrying the weapons? It isn´t like we even stand a chance.”
“Why don´t you kill yourself if we are all destined to die at some points, then why don’t you do it now. You see this is the same logic. We should always put up a fight no matter.” Answers Ideal with the alicorn tied tight to her back with a soldier’s uniform. “You know we have a chance. We could even resort to the child.”
The alicorn is currently staring into the distance troubled by her own thoughts. He says back “Do you expect a child to protect us from a modern army? She isn´t like, even six years old.”
This wakes up her interest
“She?” I ask myself, the two look at me. Out of all the thing going wrong this is something I won´t accept. “Did you just call me a girl?!”.
“Ugh, what?” He looks befuddled at me.
“Did you just call me a “she”. You know, third person singular FEMALE.”
He still looks a little confused “Yes I did. What about it?”, he says unsure. I struggle out of the confine of cloth and fall off Ideals back. Immediately regretting my decision when the cold creeps into my fur, I continue my rant.
“I´m not female!” The other ponies of the group start to look, which makes me a little nervous, but the conversation continues.
“I haven´t looked what you are, but you look pretty female to me,” he says in the same confused tone.
His statement does the opposite of calming down. Out of the few things I know, I KNOW for sure is that I am male. Why do I know I it? I´m not sure, but it is still a fact.
At the very least my fucking gender is or should be an unchanging fact about me and what I am, that I know is me. And I won´t accept any idiot defining what I am.
All these things happening and revelations of not knowing jack shit, most likely made me angrier than I should have been. I ignored the fact that he was just a normal confused pony.
“I don´t care what I look like to you, I am a man. You will accept it.”
“Ok, I don´t know what a man is, but you are factually a female. You have the flank of a mare, the jaw of a mare and the body of a mare. You are a mare.” He says in an exasperated tone then his face contorts in regret.
“No, I am NOT. If I rip of your dick off and bend your bones to the likes of a mare, are you mare then?” I say in a tone befitting of an angry little child “Because you will find out if you call me a mare one more ti- “
Something hits me in the back of the head. And rather hard at that. The colourful pony looks fearful at me with his ears folded against his head. I look behind to see what hit me.
Ideal.
“Behave yourself.” She says in her usual bored tone.
“What the fuck! You are not my mom! You can´t tell me what to do.”
“You aren´t thinking straight.”
“I´m thinking as straight as I ever will. He called me a mare even though I told him I am not.”
Her face still unchanged “And how does his opinion matter if you´re a stallion or not?”
“Well,” I don´t know the answer to that one, but there is one on my tongue. Wait, let me guess it´s-
“It doesn´t matter. It is what his thoughts are, there is no reason to threaten him with violence over it. He isn´t going to hurt you, so you won´t hurt him. His opinion is as much worth as what you think, they are. Just pick the gender you’re happy with and get it over with.” She explains. Her lecture and tone calming me down a bit. I mean what am I to say to that? Yeah, why should I care, he isn’t going to stop me.
“But I am a stallion.” I say, getting slowly ashamed of my temper.
“Then you are male. Good for you. Now get back on my back you are slowing us down.”
A precious, precious cigarette. That is what she needs right now. Luckily, she has gotten a lighter and some packages from the dead at the camp. She takes one out and lights it. The child has gotten silent again.
Talking this demigod child down from her temper tantrum is her second most frightening experience she ever faced. Especially smacking some sense into he- him. Her first most frightening experience is getting her base raided and herself and fellow comrades imprisoned. That´s hard to topple.
But still, he is a child and in need of someone to correct his behaviour, and that someone is going to be Ideal.
She is currently siting at camp with no fire, with the purpose of not getting tracked, that is what she explained to the group. They understood it but still complained. They all will huddle together into a pile to preserve energy, when sleeping. It may be a little awkward, especially as Fruity tries to avoid the child. But survival is more important than comfort.
She had to convince every single one of them to do it, by giving them one of her little monotone lectures. And then talking to some, those who still relucted, individually. It was annoying but she succeeded.
But for now, they are eating their MREs. And questioning their meals at the same time. Because it had meat. Only in little amounts, but still they had to nourish griffon soldiers with that. So, they all asked if they could even digest it, with no real answer, as no one is an expert in biology.
Of course, no one really refused cooked food, pre-cooked, at that point it would be ridiculous. It wasn´t like they had a wide variety of choice.
But they still complained.
It is their right after all.
The child didn´t even think twice and went straight at it.
While they were eating Ideal Idea opened a map, that she too of course got from the dead. Sadly, she was only partially good at reading maps. So, it took her awhile with the few sunshine she is getting to figure out where to go. And the next stop to go is Dark Nights.
A thestral township. Now, she remembers the name for a particular reason. It was a pain in the flank to find anyone to talk to, through proxy. Of course, she is an earth pony and therefore not allowed in the townships of other races.
She ultimately got into contact with one thestral, but even he stopped working for her a while ago. Hopefully she can use his space as a safe house. He is still friendly towards her. But to do that she has to go near the town undetected.
“I´m sorry.” The stallion jumps with a small squeak coming from him, like he has seen a ghost. Are these ponies so unused to threats that he took it for real? Or is there another reason he fears me?
“I´m sorry, that I exploded on you like that,” I repeat myself.
“Oh it´s all right. We all have our moments,” he says with a nervous chuckle while looking left to right. A short moment of silence presents itself.
“What even is your name?” I ask him. I haven´t
“I´m Fruity Loops.” He smiles awkwardly. Yeah, his name definitely fits him. He looks like a fruit bowl with his colours. “And what may yours be.” Ok. Don´t say escalate. He didn´t mean anything by that. I quickly take in a breath. Before I, well cry. Is it better to cry than to be unnecessarily angry? Definitely.
“I don´t know my name.”
“Well that ugh… sucks. I mean, yeah.” Wow how informative and helpful he is. I will definitely remember all my memories and get go home, with this kind of advice. If I even have a home, it isn’t like I remember.
“Hey, why are you acting like that to me. Why are you acting scared around me?” Damn it I am getting emotional again.
Ideal Idea is keeping an eye and ear out for the child. As you should with such a child. And she noticed that he is distressed. This is perfect, in a perverse way. She is purposely helping the colt when he is in emotional need. Even with her stone faced demeaner. She wants him to look up to her. Or at the least like her.
He will become dependent on her emotionally if he gets all the support, he needs from her. At least that’s the idea. She doesn´t put the child´s interest into the front. The revolution´s interest is of much greater importance. In fact, the revolutions interest lies in the child´s benefit.
Obviously again, she isn´t good with children. But she doesn´t need to, this child funnily enough behaves better than some adults she has met in her life. Excusing themselves after they did something wrong, it is unlike their age.
But it´s still foal.
With her plan being thought over again she walks over to the distressed fruity and the almost crying colt. “He is scared of you because you´re an alicorn.”
The child´s face turns to confusion “, a what?”
“An alicorn.”
“I heard that. I mean, what is an alicorn?”
“A pony that has wings of a pegasus, a horn of a unicorn that can use magic and the strength of an earth pony.”
He looks around himself, he sees his gray coat, horn, and wings as well as his turquoise mane “Oh really, I haven´t even noticed them.” He says in genuine surprise.
Now of course Ideal wondered what the past of this colt is. But she couldn´t find the time, energy, or resources to research that. And if it isn´t a guarantee to help her and her goals, she could put it in the back burner for the future.
But this really confused her. She tries to go over to another subject “You are going to get a lot of attention for being the only known alicorn. You certainly…”
“With attention you mean getting shot at,” he says spitefully.
“Yes.” Now that explains it. The griffons tried to shoot at the child. And she reacted with her magic subconsciously, like catching a falling object. But expanded manyfold because of her race and therefor power. “But I wanted to say you probably don’t want to be known as “The alicorn”. How about a name, even if it is a temporary one? It is better than nothing.”
He looks into her eyes without real focus. “I guess.”
“Do you have a suggestion?”
“No.”
Ideal thought for a while “We found you while we were fleeing the camp. How about Escape.”
We have been going again for a while. I am again on Ideals back. The name “Escape”, it is weird, but I kinda like it. And I´m also starting to enjoy the free ride from Ideal. It is comfy and I don´t have to move.
Maybe things are going to get better. If I don´t find my home if I even have one. I hopefully get a comfy bed … sometime. Yeah, about that I don´t know “Where are we even going?” I ask.
“To Dark wing a thestral township.” Ideal answers
“Ah, Ok,” I have no clue “What is a thestral.”
What follows is an explanation about what these bat ponies are. They are a nocturnal race, known for their love for fruit. They along all other species have been segregated, with the only exception of the griffon to enforce said segregation.
So, they were racist griffons that attacked me. Did their bias cause them to attack? I´m thinking too much about it. It doesn´t really matter now, it already happened. Maybe it was the corpse lying next to me, letting them think I killed him, me being an “alicorn”, entering the grounds unauthorized, they could have been ordered to shoot trespassers, or maybe they were prejudiced. Probably a mix of these reason.
Luckily, I didn´t dream last night. You can´t kill people without it leaving some psychological scars.
Let´s avert this topic. With that I ask what she meant by “can use magic”, and she meant it literally. I still have no idea how to do “a magic”, but that confirms it. I killed those griffons. Instinctively or magically and in self-defence, which doesn´t make it really any better.
And again, I brought up a different conversation topic. It isn´t like there are better things to do than walk and converse.
“Why do they do it?” I ask her, while we were on the topic of segregation.
“It depends on who you ask. Some say it is for our own good to stay with our own kind. Others say it is because their griffon race is naturally superior. At the end it doesn´t matter; the result is the same. They all deserve the bullet, for robbing us of our freedom.” She takes out a cigarette, it takes her multiple attempts to get the lighter to work “Don´t understand me wrong, Griffons aren´t inherently evil. We shouldn´t shoot all griffons that would make us worse than them. The supremacist I mean.
“The griffons have been lied or forced to, letting them think that it is in their best interest to oppress, rather than fight against those that order them to oppress.” She takes a short time to think. “Now they can´t even imagine a world without their superiority. The society is built upon it. For example, that little camp you freed us from is one of many sites that make up the backbone of the resource economy, practically a slave economy. We dug out the iron, going towards a corporation. that griffons with machinery and an actual education processed, to… build weapons that keep us in the mines.”
Is she a book? That is quite an essay. But still, this makes me quite … upset is a too weak word for it. I killed creatures that just hated me and it wasn´t even really their fault. Partially.
Ideal seemed to notice it as she continues “Now you, killing those griffons wasn´t a bad thing just because they were fed lies. It was their own decision to attack you, Escape, you acted in self-defence. In fact, it was good that you killed so many. Every dead soldier is one less enemy we must deal with.”
“Why didn´t you just flee to another country?” I ask “, if it´s so bad here?”
“What country? The whole damn known continent of the frontier is controlled by martial Theodoro and his thugs.” She answers. Wait, a whole continent controlled by one dictator, that is too extreme. No, it´s dreadful not even escaping is possibility. Well, escaping through the ocean will practically be suicide “, and we should rather take our chances overthrowing the government than going on the seas of chaos.”
Then I noticed something in her little preach. “Who is “we”.”
“Do you want to hear a funny theory of mine?” She says without a smile. Ok what has that to do with anything? But I nod anyway. “So, the economy needs very cheap labour in form of prisoners. So, what do you do if you don´t have enough prisoners, not enough criminals?” another pause. “You invent them, you incarcerate them under the slightest suspicions, for minor, or non-existent reasons. They put me into the camp for treason. Now the funny thing is, they were right. They had a lucky shot; I am indeed a revolutionary. But they just guessed, finding themselves right afterwards.”
“A revolutionary?”
“That would be the romantic word for it. A terrorist, a rebel or insurrectionist are also what they call the liberation front…” She pauses again, thinking “That´s what I would call our organisation. But we have been most likely been decimated, practically disbanded.”
Now I know that I, as an alicorn, am a little stronger than other magic users. The griffons underestimated me when they shot at me. With that little thought I had a question.
“Can I help?”
////
Her plan works. It works a little too quick. Yes, she wanted Escape on her side eventually, but she doesn´t want him to lose interest in the middle of a fight, like a child would do with a newfound hobby. She wants him fully onboard she must give him more perspective.
“You can. It isn´t like you will get a membership card or that I can stop you from that. But tell me something, Escape.” She picks the child from her back and puts him front of her to look into his eyes. “You, a child that is not even barely of the age to consent, want to fight a cause he barely knows? Can you even read?” He shakes his head a little dejected. “You want to fight for a future, in a present that you can´t even remember. You, want to become a child soldier?”
Escape slowly starts to become teary eyed. “Yes *sniff*. I don´t want to *Sniff* but I don’t have a choice I don´t want to hide forever I would rather want to *sniff* to DIE. You said it yourself, this isn´t a world where I would fit in. There is no alicorn township even if I *sniff* wanted.” he says in an angry tone while trying to avoid crying. He approaches Ideal, standing right in front of her, he looks up to her “Please Ideal, I don´t want to run away *sniff* and I don’t want to kill anyone.”
Ideal already regrets how she is handling the child. But some tears must be paid. And she would rather give herself to the authorities than sweet talk reality.
Without even a flinch Ideal says ",you will have to kill way more.”
“I know but it will stop won´t it?”
“Eventually.”
“Then let me help.”
“…Very well.”
“Are we there yet?” I ask
“Does it look we are there?” Ideal answers
“No?”
“Exactly.”
“…When do we arrive at “Dark Wing”?”
There is something I notice; I have become a cry-baby. Of course, I have legitimate reasons to cry. I think. After all I found out I live in country in which I cannot fit in even if I wanted.
But for example, recently I had to walk a little bit to take a piss.
Now the problem is, after I took care of my business, I sprained my ankle, not in bad way that needed any attention. I just didn´t see the stone because it was covered in snow.
I shouldn´t have cried nor did I want to, but I did. I know it wasn´t bad, it didn´t stop my tear ducts. Ideal looked after me, to see if something happened. There wasn´t anything. So, now I´m back on her back (pun intended).
My point is that I have been a cry-baby since I can remember, literally. I think she is irritated with me; I can´t really tell with her.
“*sigh* Escape, you are annoying.” Oh, that confirms it.
I feel like crying again.
Governor Hedwin is having a bad day. Not in the sense of not being able to pay for food. But in the sense that he has meeting with his boss. The Martial. These are the few and short moments that are the most stressful moments of his life. Being the governor of the city and region of dark wing is stressful in it of itself. But the guy is always – oh no there he is.
Shortly having arrived via the train the old grey in a black military uniform griffon Martial enters the palace of the governor. The governor having been in the military like every griffon citizen knows how to behave with higher ranking officers and quickly straightens and salutes.
“At ease governor Hedwin, let us keep this short. There are still many griffons that I have to see during my tour.” He says with a little smile.
“Sir, then let us talk at my office.”
“Sounds good. Do you have by happenchance a little liquor. The ride has been rather long.”
“Yes, sir.”
As they walk along the halls of the mansion “In comparison to the other governor your residence seems rather modest.” Hedwin has of course meet the other governors, they always gave him the creeps. They had a way of intrigue and lies about them. That is why he takes the bare minimum of contact with them.
And yes, they had way too much money to throw around.
“Thank you, sir.”
Both are sitting in office, Hedwin is silently sweating. The only thing to hear is the breathing of the griffons, the rustling of paper as the martial is looking over a folder and his notes, and an old grandfather clock in the corner.
“Governor Hedwin, reports tell me that you have done a acceptable job. The taxes are fully paid, and dissatisfaction are kept at a minimum.” The martial closes his folder “But the workforce quotas aren´t fulfilled.” He looks over to the governor “There will be a second chance for you, as this is an easily fixable mistake.”
“Sir, in all honesty I don´t understand, how this is a problem? Shouldn´t a low crime rate be good? And it isn´t like I can just ask them to go into prisons.”
The martial gives him a light chuckle “That is true, but who else would work on the farms? How else would we support our mighty army with food?” Hedwin for the life of him never actually got an answer why they needed a large army. After all who could even attack them. “And Mr. Hedwin, you don´t need to ask. You forgot something very important.” He chucks his whole glass “We are griffons, We are predators, We don´t ask we TAKE what we want. Who cares if they steal from or murder each other?” The martial takes a watch from his pocket compares it with the grandfather clock and stands up. “Now if you excuse me, the clock is ticking. I expect you to correct this little mistake in a month. See you by then.”
“Farewell Martial, sir.”
The Martial leaves his office taking his bodyguards, to which Hedwin took no attention to, left. But before the martial went through the whole doorframe he stopped and turned back to Hedwin. Hedwin in turn began to sweat, more. “Oh, Hedwin, I have heard some rumours. I think you know which I mean. Are they true?” The martial began to smile, again.
His light sweating became very heavy sweating “Sir, if these rumours were true, do you think I would give you the truth?” He answers with his own little smile.
“Ha” the martial chuckles a little “Yes that is very true. Farewell.”
Silence. He is alone in his office. Oh calmness. The subject of his nightmares is finally gone. He slumps back into his chair like he´d just run a marathon. He takes some swigs from his liquor to calm his nerves and collect his thoughts. Even though the liquor will cause the opposite.
“Wow, what a dick,” says a voice from a cabinet inside his room. It was at this point, his panic just quadrupled. So, he drank directly from the bottle. Out of the closet came pointy eared and furry thestral. The exiting of the closet was more of a stumble.
“Cheerful, what in all that is sacred don´t you understand by “I am getting a visit by the, you know, THE MARTIAL” he rubs is forehead.
“Oh relax, he didn´t see did me, did he?” She says, trying to calm him down, doing exactly the opposite. His eye twitches.
“But could have. You have heard him. He already heard the rumours about us. He just had to be a little more investigative and he could have. Please, Cheer if he finds out I can handle whatever shit he wants to give me, but I couldn´t save you from his wrath.”
Another moment of silence broke out between “I didn´t think through it, again. Didn´t I?”
“Yes.”
“I´m sorry.” She tries to go over to another “What do you plan to do about the quota.”
“I don´t know.” He says, while looking back at the glass.
“You are good governor, I´m sure you will find something.”
“I thought I could be a good governor. But it is impossible. I thought that I don´t need play their petty games, but I have to.”
“But you aren´t, are you? I mean I know no governor who actually talks to their citizens.”
“You don´t know any other governor, because you never left this city.”
“True but my point stands, you are the best griffon.” She says and pats him on the head.
“Thank you. I…”
“…Love you.”
“Dreary, only you can tell me in such a beautiful way, that you love me and that I love … me.” Keep says few milliseconds before he gets a pillow thrown into his face.
“Aw Keep, were already late. Get up,” he says, already running through the kitchen, turning on the radio , and throwing things together in a way that it could be considered a breakfast.
“Oh no, how will I in this short time go down the stairs.” He says melodramatically, throwing in mock shock on his face, “it isn´t like we work and sleep in the same building.”
Dreary in turn just rolled his eyes “, here,” he gives a plate with egg and another maybe eatable substance over to Keep “the most important meal of the day.”
“You are always surpassing yourself with you cooking,” he says sarcastically “, but thanks,” in a more genuine tone. “Also, turn off the radio!”
After they ate their breakfast, they went to their bar. Cleaning and preparing everything for the upcoming day. Meanwhile checking upon their own little brewery. It alone doesn´t support them. They of course get most their supplies from different sources.
“It is a speakeasy,” says Keep.
“It is clearly a bar,” reiterates Dreary
“Do you even know what a speakeasy is?” asks Keep.
“Eh. No.” Submits Dreary
“Ok let me explain a speakeasy is indeed a bar, but the important difference is-” Keep is interrupted by a knocking on the door. “Already? Isn´t it a bit early.” The knocking became louder and quicker. “I´m coming.”
At the door, he opens the viewing slit and looks upon multiply cloaked figure. “Mysterious much aren’t you?”
“Is Mr. Shadowy and Mr. Shadowy here?” A female tone asks. Keep quickly panics. And opens the door letting the cloaked figure in.
“Not so loud. Stuff is secret you know. Come in. Come in. Why are you even cloaking yourselves, it´s illegal?”
When the door is closed, the figure throws away the cloth from her head and reveals Ideal Idea in thick soldiers clothing and heavily weaponed. She silently apologises to the clothier she stole the multiple cloths from and swears to return them.
Someday.
“Earth ponies? Here? Are you kidding me, who are-”.
“Ideal? What are you doing here?” asks Dreary.
“Dreary, why do you know her?” Keep asks.
“That´s because it´s hard to forget the leader of the Liberation Front, Keep.”
“Dreary,” Keep takes in a long breath. He puts his hoof on the shoulder of his partner “, what?”
Ideal answers for him “, he was an operative in Dark Wing, until you got together. That is why I know this to be a safe place.”
“Putting aside the long conversation I am going to have with Dreary. Ideal, you cannot possibly be here, you will get the whole army on our flanks.” Ideal in her case doesn´t listen she walks over to another of her fellow felons and pulls something out of his pocket.
She then hooves it over to Keep. “I think the blood stains shouldn´t be big bother. And the amount should be sufficient for my fellows and I.”
“That… That´s a lot of money.”
Dreary comments on that “Since when did you have such funding.”
“Recently,” she answers.
“I guess. We could close shop for a few days. And you can stay here. While you do, whatever you do.” Keep says.
Author's Note
I hate it when a Character in any fictitious story, movie, or series does anything stupid for no good reason.
I think most can agree on that.
That is why I hate children in many stories because they are a easy way to justify stupidity.
But then I realised something, I did the same thing.
It´s too late for me to change it, so I´m trying my best to justify the childish stupidity.
Chapter 7
Winter is beautiful. I love winter. Of course, only if you’re not outside, where it is cold, wet and dirty. I love winter as long as I can stay inside
It is also good to be small. But only in this specific cases. Staying on Ideals back were I´m all comfy, for example. She has to be strong, carrying me all day. This is probably this “earth pony strength”.
Anyways, I slept, talked, and cried a little during our little journey. “Little” of course being a rather subjective term.
I don´t have any big plans for my life. I want to chill. When this is all done, I really wish I could just lay in a comfy bed, drink some hot chocolate milk, and read a nice book, having no worries in the world.
Wait, I can´t read.
I should put learning to read and write on my priority list.
So I was under a cloak that was getting a little too warm for comfort and someone started to talk, culminating into me waking up “, are we there, yet?”
“Yes,” with that, I jumped of her back. And took in my surroundings of a very ordinary bar and two abt ponies, they have to be “,are you thestrals?” I ask simply. And truth be told, they looked rather cute. With fluffy ears and all.
“Yeah. Wait is this a joke?” he walks up to me and pulls my horn.
“Ow, hey.”
“This can´t be.” He then pulls my wing
“Stop!”
“Ideal, you can keep your money. I have changed my mind. I´m not going keep an alicorn here,” one of Thestral says. Ok just ignore me, whatever.
“I assure you, there will be no problems from the child,” Ideal pressures.
“Oh, yeah sure, a being that could move sun and moon will just go beneath the radar of the military, I´m sure.”
“I can do that?”
“No, she can´t.” says the other thestral, I frown “their power, like that of all ponies, is specialised by their cutie mark. She doesn´t have one. Only Luna and Celestia with their moon and sun marks respectively can do that.”
If I could guess I think that they are these tattoos.That sounds stupid, having something that represents you, unchanging, be tattooed on your flanks.
I also want one. I wonder what I will have.
The first thestral responds “How do you know that?”
“I have read a book on mythology.”
“It doesn´t change a thing.”
“Well, she is just a child. And they-” Dreary points over to the group of the earth ponies who keep to themselves, asking each other if it would be smarter to walk to the nearest earth pony town and why they are still following Ideal. “Clearly need some rest.”
“I don´t care. “
“And don´t forget the money.”
The thestral who didn´t even apologize for pulling my horn thinks for a while “, you make a good argument Dreary. You know what, Ideal. I have changed my mind for the third time this day, and I don´t want to change it again. As long you keep us out of any trouble. I don´t have any objections.”
“Thank you Keep,” she says diplomatically and reaches out for a hoof shake. Keep accepts.
“Now then let me show you your rooms. Well room to be more exact.”
As Ideal and the others go over the room and talk about stuff, I stopped paying attention. There are more important things that are bothering me.
“Eh, Dreary,” I think that is what they called him, I try to get his attention. I can barely differentiate between the two thestrals, Dreary is a little larger, I think. Is this racist? I don't know, it´s something I have to learn. But I think, he is older than the other one, seeing some grey streaks in his mane.
What is up with their names anyway, they all have the theme of “dark”.
I´m being racist again. Oh right, I also have to introduce myself like a normal being “, I´m Escape,” I say, as I stretch my hoof out for a hoof shake.
He looks over to me, takes on a little smile, and accepts my hoof shake, with a bit too much fervour as he shakes my whole being “, nice to meet you, Escape. I´m Dreary,” he pauses for a moment “, sorry you already said my name.”
“Could you tell me about what you read? About the Alicorns and stuff.”
“Why, don´t you know?”
With a sigh “, I´m an amnesiac. You already know more about me than I know about me.”
“That got to suck.” Oh no, I haven’t noticed, captain obvious.
I´m being mean again, in my own thoughts, he´s just trying to be sympathetic. He looks over to the direction where the group has gone to, “I think we have time. Keep is probably lecturing them over all rules of conduct.” He looks back over to me, “what do you know?”
“I know that I have wings and a horn… Oh, and griffons dislike me,” I could have just asked Ideal, but her answers are a too laconic, just like all of her answers that aren´t about politics. That mare has some problems.
And the other earth ponies are too scared to give me proper answers.
“Oh, then let me start from the beginning.
In a far of land.
They were born in age of strife,
Battle after battle they fought,
I think I got something wrong but that explains the gist of it. The alicorns are things of myths and legends. They are speculated to be some sort of demigoddesses from Faust, to bring peace and harmony, or something like that. It was an interesting book, I would lend it to you, but I don´t have it anymore.”
“So, you’re saying I´m a demigod?”
“Nah. They are just legends. And even then, the stories give them way too much power. It´s just unrealistic, also with them being the only two examples of alicorns. I don´t want to insult you, but you probably just have an unfortunate mutation. Either your wings or horn don´t work.”
Yes, I don´t have a clue how to fly, but even then, I still have done the things I have done. I believe at least that was powerful.
Oh, that explains it. They fear me because I am an Alicorn , they think I´m some sort of demigod. Thank you Ideal, for not elaborating. It also would confirm my fears. There is no place for me in this country. There are no “alicorn villages” that I could flee to. And the griffons definitely wouldn´t something like me running around.
“No insult taken. Do you know how magic works?” I say.
“Do you I look like a unicorn to you?”
“Sorry I –“
“Just kidding. I have a unicorn friend… had a unicorn friend.” He shakes his head as if to remove a memory, his smile quickly returning again “, for unicorns there are two ways to go about it. First is the instinctual, if you want something like a have this glass over there,” he points to a pint glass on the bar counter “levitate over to you. Be it subconscious or conscious is enough to “do the magic.” Then there is the scientific way, which allows you to do much more like teleport. But good luck finding anything about that, most books about that have been burned and ponies knowledgeable about it have “disappeared”.”
That´s brutal. But if you were to hinder a whole race on progressing and successfully rebelling, that is definitely a way to do it.
I turn my attention to the glass and will it to come to me. And it does exactly that, slowly levitating towards me. It took me no effort. Inspecting it a little closer I see faint blue aura, no not blue it´s the turquoise of my mane.
Neat.
Is there a scientific explanation to it? Of course not, it is magic after all. It isn´t reducible.
But he also said something about a “scientific way”. Maybe I´m thinking wrong about magic.
“Look it wasn´t that hard, little miss.” Oh, that does it … no keep calm. How does one calm themselves again, ah, yes, breath in, breath out, breath in.
“Ugh, Escape are you okay, you …” he points at the floor in front of me. The glass isn´t there, but a little red pool of molten glass, catching fire around it, is in its place.
“Oh I´m sorry, I just wanted … no I didn´t want to – “, oh not again, it´s just a glass. I´m not going to cry over a little property damage.
I have killed living beings, why am I now crying over something so small?
Damnit I just made myself even more miserable. Dreary tries to cheer up a little “, oh don´t worry it´s just a glass. Was it because I called you a mutant?” he looks over to puddle “no unicorn could…” he visibly becomes sweaty and slowly backs away.
Another sob escapes me.
While Escape is crying over spilled glass, Dreary slowly retracts himself from the situation. As soon as he does that, he turns away and trots to Ideal. Keep is long finished with his rules.
He likes history, mythology, and all that´s past. It is a small hobby of his.
But reading and hearing about these things is one thing, just like you learn about an important battle. Just because you like this part of history doesn´t mean you want to live in it, no one wants to live through an actual battle.
It is exactly like that for him, he doesn´t want a crying alicorn near him.
The room, the earth ponies are in, only consists of one bathroom and one bedroom. The earth ponies had to sit down on the floor, but it was enough for all of them.
After going into the room of the earth ponies unannounced, they are currently conversing with each other, he immediately blurts out “WhereisIdeal?”
One of them answers “, she is in the shower. We are taking turns.”
“The alicorn is crying!”
“Don´t bother. She…” the pony turns to another pony “He?” the other pony shrugs “, cries on the regular.”
After a while I collect myself enough to stop crying. Finally.
Are these my actual feelings that I am portraying, or just my body reacting a certain way? Is there even a difference to make? Afterall, I know this wasn´t anything big … but still I…
I let out a sigh, which is more like a sob. It´s just some hormones. I´m alone in the bar. The second time I am alone since I can remember. And it´s crushing. I don´t like it. I don´t want to be left alone with my own thoughts. I´m my worst enemy.
The stillness. No actually it isn´t quiet nor calm, there are noises coming from the streets. There are no windows, so I can´t tell what exactly these sounds are.
But they are similar … to… gunshots and screams. Not an exactly calming ambiance.
No, it isn´t an ambiance someone is actually suffering. It isn´t like I can´t do anything about it. I am magical. They not only think I`m powerful. I am powerful.
But why stop there? Defeating one evil guy is good and all. It wouldn´t be enough to help just one pony. No, they would violate another one. I must cut of the head of the snake.
I only have to figure out who the big honcho is.
Yeah, I will defeat the big bad, like a super hero.
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