Mississippi Blues

Pop!

Two men sat on a porch. One drank from his trusty canteen, the cork holding on by a string, while the other looked out over the acres of land he owned, sporting a pipe in his mouth.

“Mighty fine property you have here, Mr. Burr.”

The landscape was beautiful: fields of cotton and corn greeted the men, while the sun kissed the backdrop.

“Thank you, Mr. Stockton. I appreciate your company,” Mr. Burr replied before taking a puff from his pipe. The resulting puff of white smoke slowly faded into nothingness.

“As do I,” Mr. Stockon said, lifting his canteen.

Mr. Burr nodded. The two men were farmers in good ole Mississippi. They were neighbors in a booming enterprise of the era.

Unfortunately, the booming enterprise came with a price.

“Ah…” Mr. Stockton returned the canteen to his side and licked his lips. “You know, Mr. Burr, I admire your... tenacity. You’re able to keep a firm eye on your inventory. If you’ll have me, I must ask for some advice.”

“Oh?” Mr. Burr raised a brow. “What might that be?”

Mr. Stockton’s black mustache formed with his smile. “How do you keep these vermin in line?”

A few loud clicks of Mr. Burr’s black boots spurred a man from the farmstead. He was tall, colored, and skinny like a corn stalk. He wore a pair of rugged blue overalls that were fastened tightly against his frame. “Ya called, Master?”

“Bring me a horn of paradise, please.”

“Yes, Master,” the man said, before he bowed to the two gentlemen and walked away.

Mr. Burr looked up at Mr. Stockton. “Does that answer your question?”

“Well,” Mr. Stockton replied, gulping. “You must enforce strict discipline, I see.”

“If that is what you call it.”

Mr. Stockton looked out at the landscape. “Well, I must be off. I need to make sure the kids are in bed, and the wife isn’t screaming at them again.” He rolled his eyes. “May I swing by tomorrow afternoon to see how you conduct your harvest?”

Mr. Burr took another puff from his pipe. “Of course,” he began. He stood up and held out his hand. “You’re welcome anytime, friend.”

“Thank you,” Mr. Stockton said, giving his friend a firm handshake, before tipping his hat and making his way towards the exit. However, just as he was about to turn, he gasped and turned back around. “Oh, by the way, I almost forgot! Will I be seeing you next Wednesday for the meeting at the Crossroads? Mr. Owens heard they’re restocking!”

Mr. Burr gave a hearty laugh and bobbed his head. “Mr. Owens always hears rumors of the Crossroads restocking.”

“He always got tabs on the new shipments.” Mr. Stockton cleared his throat and buttoned up his jacket. “Glad you’re coming. We’ll celebrate on our selections with cheer, my treat!”

“I’m looking forward to it.”

“As am I!”

Then, the light faded, and Mr. Stockton took off down the dirt path, leaving Mr. Burr on the porch.

“Master, I got ya your drink and—”

The man took it and sat down in his chair. “Thank you, Dyson. Now go get some shuteye.”

“Thank ya, Master! I be up ‘n ready to work tomorrow!”

Mr. Burr did not respond to Dyson. He was too focused on the sun slowly fizzling out.

I wasn’t sure where I was at, but I sure wasn’t at the farm.

I just woke up in this place, laying down in some grey mush, like mud in the fields, but not that dark brown sort of earth. This looked more lifeless: grey and rough to the touch. The only life that came from it were little trickles of water weaving between the grains. When I felt the wetness of the earth, I stood and saw water coming down like buckets. I was a few feet away from the water that fell. I never thought water would just be streaming down from the sky like this.

Wherever this water was coming from, it’s high up there. I could only assume that, since the water was coming through this thick white fog. I’m praying that it didn’t rain, because if it did, then I could be facing a flash flood down here.

I weren’t no stranger to floods back on the farm. Before all this, I slept in an old stable. Master let everybody sleep there since it was empty and got none of those animals no more. They’re all in the new stable, since the guards were complaining that the old one’s roof was leaking fierce. They weren’t lying either. Last week’s rain storm had me floating on hay. My ma was furious, but she knew she couldn’t do nothing about it.

Much like how I couldn’t do anything about being in this very narrow place. It was grey, mucky, and full of stones. I knew for sure that I needed to find a way out, because there’s no sign of any life here, but I was not sure if I should follow where the water’s heading. There could be something else down there, something that could want to hurt me. I ain’t wanting trouble.

My momma once told me though that there’s this thing called a risk. Every single thing that we say, that we do; all that boiled down to the chance of dying. But that didn’t matter none, that’s because we were expendable. That’s what Mr. Stockton said, but my momma and papa didn’t like him none. He just that black hat tipper, or that mustache twirler neighbor from down the road.

So I guess I needed to take a risk, like momma said. After all, my momma wanted me to try and be the freest slave there ever be. She didn’t want me leaving, though. She didn’t want another… Leo.

I took a head start and followed the stream. It led me into this… dip, like the ground just fell off. And the place got worse. It was all jagged and uneven, to the point where I gotta be careful where I walked. If I climbed down on it wrong, I could get some stones stuck in my feet. Luckily, there weren’t no big leaps I needed to take. I only needed to risk just a bit.

I hopped down a couple parts before getting to this huge wide open space. All that’s there was this huge boulder, surrounded in an orange glow. I wiped my brow, and I took a few steps toward it, hoping to take a breather and to get a better view up ahead.

And then, I heard a voice.

“Look out!”

Crash!

My head was spinning. My vision saw two grey blurs in front of me. And I’m much farther away from that boulder than I should be, I think. Yet again, I couldn’t tell if it’s because I was seeing it right or not. My hearing though was just fine. I could hear my feet shuffling against the dry grains.

“Oof…”

That pained groan wasn’t mine. It sounded like a lady’s voice for sure. I weren’t sure how she wound up here. Last time I checked, I was the only one here.. I tried to stand up to see who it was, but my eyes weren’t used to seeing two’s, so I stumbled to the ground again in a thicket of dust, sliding just shy of the two boulders. My body thanked me for doing that, coughing up a bit of the lifeless grain.

Once I was done coughing, I staggered to my feet and tried to walk towards the boulder. While I struggled to gather myself, I kept hearing her pained groans. They came from behind the boulder. Curious, I pulled myself around the boulder to get a better look.

What I saw wasn’t what I expected.

She were no lady. She was a small horse, but not one I had seen before. Most horses back home weren’t very colorful like her, but her fur’s a bright blue color, and her mane’s the colors of the rainbow. I couldn’t see her eyes since they were tightly shut, but her muzzle was a lot shorter than most horses. Plus she had wings, and they didn’t look too good. One of them was folded to her side, while the other was twitching in the opposite direction.

I stopped moving, frozen, as if I heard my Master hollering at me. There were many things I could do or say to the unconscious horse in front of me, but the only words that wanted to come out were of the realization that—

“I really ain’t in Mississippi no more.”

Doubt

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Slowly a man on horseback pulled alongside the dirt road. He kept his brown horse at bay, telling her to stay put, and hopped off. The horse neighed a reply, but it did not get a response. She snorted, before she laid under a giant oak tree, her head gracing the grass.

The man smiled, dusted himself off, and adjusted his black hat. He walked on the windy path in front of him, his shoes pitter-pattering against the dirt. The giant white mansion stared back at him, basking in the early fall heat.

After walking up the stairs to the front porch, the man took off his hat, and leaned against the railing. He wiped the sweat pooling on his head, slicked back his grey hair, and took a deep breath.

Knock. Knock.

The door rattled against its door frame.

“One moment!”

The man stepped back and hung his head.

The door handle jostled, before the door swung open.

“Hello, sir. How may I help ya?”

He sneered at the vermin, before clearing his throat. “I am looking for Mr. Burr, son.”

“Oh!” the vermin squeaked. “Ya must be Mr. Stockton!”

“Yes, that I am.” Mr. Stockton rolled his eyes.

“Lemme go git him. He be out back tellin’ ‘em what’s what for the harvest!”

The vermin scurried off into the house, turning briskly behind a wall.

Meanwhile, Mr. Stockton stood frozen, his face contorted. Customarily, when a slave answers the door, they should offer the guest the most comfortable seat in the house. Then, once inside, they should ask the guest if they would like something to eat or drink, before tarrying off to get his or her master. Mr. Stockton knew this unspoken rule, but the slave that answered the door did not.

Mr. Stockton frowned and stepped back out, his eyes scouring the landscape from the front porch. His sluggish hold on the railing made him look hunchback, while his grey dusty suit reflected the burning gaze of the sun.

He thought for a while. Was Mr. Burr really the best option to go to for learning more about slave handling? Although the man’s expertise on discipline was strong, if a slave was not welcoming, then they did not understand the ruling in the first place.

While Mr. Stockton’s mind was fielding whether to stay or leave, Mr. Burr was outside, managing the harvest. He watched the slaves gather the corn, their sweaty hands clasping onto each stalk with ease, while the cotton was picked slowly off in the deadly heat. A mother told her child to stay put, while she watched him hold the bag open to drop another small fluff-ball in.

Mr. Burr adjusted his pipe. “Don’t haul that over there!” he shouted, pointing at two slaves with a bag full of corn. “Over in the corn barn! Do you want to be sleeping outside tonight you—”

A tap on his shoulder made Mr. Burr spin around in anger. “And what do you—oh, it’s you, Dyson.”

“Yessir,” Dyson said, bowing. “Sorry ‘bout that, Master. I got down here to tell ya that Mr. Stockton’s out front wantin’ to talk.”

A scowl grew on Mr. Burr’s face. “Why didn’t you let him in?”

Dyson shrunk into his chest. “Sorry, sir. I had to git to ya before the work started to be all rough.”

“Alright, son,” Mr. Burr said. His scowl faltered. “We’ll have a talk about this later, ya hear?”

Dyson nodded. “Yessir.”

Mr. Burr walked past his slave, and ran into the house, leaving Dyson to walk amongst the stalks.

Quickly, Mr. Burr ran through the maze of his house, before spotting his friend on the front porch. “Mr. Stockton!”

The grey-suited man turned around. “Ah, Mr. Burr. You did not forget our arrangement?”

“No-no-no, Mr. Stockton,” Mr. Burr said, walking out onto the porch. “I had not. My mind was focused on managing the harvest.” He wiped the sweat from his brow. “I figure you’re edging to see what makes my worker’s tick?”

Mr. Stockton glanced to his left and sighed. “Not if they’re all like that critter that answered the door.”

“Ah, no they are not like that. I’ll be discussing with him about proper etiquette tonight.”

That got Mr. Stockton tilting his head. “Why not now?”

“Because it’s time to harvest! Disciplining on a more… stricter scale requires the right time and place.”

Mr. Stockton hummed. “I see. Do tell in time, yes?”

“Of course,” Mr. Burr said. “Now come, my friend! Daylight is burning.”

Mr. Stockton nodded and walked into his friend’s home. “Thank you kindly.”

The two men walked out back, much to the dismay of a critter looking on.

Safe.

I sighed and gently laid her near the cave entrance, while I collapsed on the opposite side of it, propping myself against its walls. It was a small little hole in the huge narrow valley. It reminded me of the shed Master had out back. The only reason why I knew this building existed was because I overheard him talking about it one night, after dealing with a couple of richer white folk. Whenever he stressed about something, he’d go there to rest on his favorite reading chair. There would be that old lamp flickering beside him, the glass looking like a woman when she’s with child. And there would be the sound of silence, something that was far and few between on the farm.

Silence was hard to witness here, too: the water still raged on outside. It became part of the backdrop, as the distant sounds of a maddened demon pierced my ears. It made me wince as I heard how angry it sounded. There was no comfort here, just safety in an area away from the open dull space of this place.

I took a peek back at my plus one. The horse’s breathing finally started to calm, something that I was worried about before. Before, she had been breathing like she was running away from someone, but that changed a little while ago. She was just resting now, unaware of the screams of the night.

Well, until I spoke of her rest. She stirred, her eyes flickering and her neck craning to view her surroundings.

“Where a-am I?”

Her eyes settled on mine, which were wider than a wagon’s tire. She pointed her hoof at me. “What are you?”

The question caught me off guard. I never have been asked this before, so I just told her what I knew.

“I’mma slave.”

She nearly tilted her head off that neck of hers when she heard me say those words. “A slave? In Equestria?” She eyed me up and down. “Never seen a slave like you before.”

Equestria? That place didn’t sound anywhere near Mississippi. So there was no way I was even close to home. “I never seen a horse talk.”

“I am not a horse! I’m a pegasus, buster,” she began, scooting towards me. She shoved me with that hoof of hers, pinning me against the wet wall. “And I am one of the best flyers around! You’ll never beat me in a race, I’ll—”

Her little rant skirted to a halt when her broken appendage made itself known. “Ahh!” she screamed, before snapping to her wing. “What happened to my wing?”

“Ya don’t remember?” I asked. I got myself comfortable against the rough cave wall.

She tapped her hoof against her chin. “Well, I do remember hitting something…”

“Hitting me was the first something ya hit.”

“I did?” she said, groaning. “Then what was the second thing?”

“A huge rock. Saw ya layin’ on the other side, so I got on over and picked ya up.”

Her mouth formed into a small ‘o’. “Sorry for hitting you, if that’s anything. Just didn’t expect anyone down here in Ghastly Gorge.”

“Ghastly Gorge?”

She raised a brow at me. “Are you not from here?”

“Sounds like it,” I said, nodding. “I’m from Northern Mississippi, ma’am.”

“I’ve never heard of any place called Mississippi before…”

“And I never heard of this place either.”

She frowned momentarily, those eyes downcast and her ears deflated, but it wasn’t long before she scooted over towards me again and gave me a short smile. “Guess we’re going to go have to work together to get out of here, huh?”

“Looks like it.” I offered her my hand. “The name’s Dyson, ma’am.”

“Weird, but everyone’s got weird names nowadays.” That smile felt more real now, her pinkish eyes twinkling in the dark. “Name’s Rainbow Dash, but just call me Dash.”

“Yes, ma’am.” I felt her hoof in my palm. We quickly shook ‘hands’.

In the dark, I saw her grit teeth. “Never call me ma’am. Dash is good enough.”

I smiled. “Sounds good, Dash.”

Dash stood up, yawned, and stretched her hind legs. “Phew! All this crashing and stressing makes me want to sleep some more.” She turned to me. “But it wouldn’t be fair to you if I didn’t watch over you. Are you wanting to take turns sleeping?”

“Is it really that bad here?”

“Ghastly Gorge is an extremely dangerous place,” Dash began, sitting on her flanks. “There’s eels that jut out from the walls that’ll eat you if you’re too close, and hydras if you’re near the caverns—”

“Okay, I get your point.” I curled up into a ball. I didn’t want to imagine any of those things right now. “So do you want to get some more rest first?”

She surprised me by shaking her head. “Although I said I would, I don’t think I should sleep now. You’ve been watching me for probably a while now, making sure I’m safe. I wouldn’t be Loyalty if I didn’t let you sleep for a bit.”

I wanted to ask her what that meant, but my body failed to let me speak. A yawn escaped me, which made Dash chuckle. “And it sounds like you need it more than me.”

“Well if ya’re offerin’...” My voice trailed off as I slowly laid down on the rough grains of the cave. Although it was a bit wet, the ground was still dry enough to sleep on. “Thanks, Dash,” I added, mumbling it through another yawn.

As my body finally gave way, I heard her voice over the growls of the night. “Sleep well, Dyson.”

And I did as she said, drifting off into dreamland.

Calm Before The Storm

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The kerosene lamp brightened the room, while the world outside grew dark. Mr. Burr sat in his chair, his feet propped up on a smaller padded chair in front of him. The weekly Ripley Advertiser was open proudly in his hands, the large newspaper full of articles of his hometown. His hands gripped it tightly, while his thumb rubbed the top of it with care, tempted to turn the next page.

On the other hand, Dyson stood still. His eyes were looking on at his master, while his long, lanky arms dangled at his sides.

“Sir.”

The vocalization made Mr. Burr pause, his thumb stopping its caress, while the grip on the paper loosened. “Yes, Dyson?”

A big old brown clock chimed in the farthest corner of the room. Dyson’s eyes darted to it. “I-I… wanted to ask you ‘bout Mr. Stockton, sir.”

Silence reigned for a moment. Dyson couldn’t see Mr. Burr due to the paper that was blocking his view. But then, the paper was folded shut, set aside on his footrest. Mr. Burr gazed at his slave, and smiled. “Oh?” He got up from his chair. “Why do you ask?”

Dyson twiddled with his fingers. “I… was worried, sir.”

“Worried?” Mr. Burr let out a hearty laugh. “Dyson, you and the rest of those negroes don’t need to worry about Mr. Stockton. He’s absolutely harmless to you lot.”

“It’s not that, sir…” Dyson’s voice trailed off, his eyes flickering between the clock and his owner. “You looked like you were goin’ punch him. I didn’t want to have to yank ya off him.”

That nearly killed Mr. Burr, his hands holding his belly tight. “B-Boy you’re going to kill me with all this talk!” He took a seat back in his chair. “Mr. Stockton’s just grating on the ears sometimes. He tends to… say nonsense that I don’t take kindly.”

Dyson tilted his head. “What did he say, sir?”

“Nothing worth mentioning,” Mr. Burr said lamely. He bent down to grab his newspaper, and took a seat back in his chair. With a quick flick, his paper was opened again. He waved at Dyson dismissively. “Like I said, don’t worry about it. If there’s anything he says that worries me, I’ll let you know.”

“Thank you, sir.”

At first, Dyson took a bow, and moved towards the door. But just as he was about to grip the handle to the door, he stopped and turned back. “Master?”

“Yes?”

“Are ya goin’ to the Crossroads tomorrow?”

Dyson heard Mr. Burr breathe deeply, making him shiver. “Yes I am, Dyson.” He set his paper aside. “Gotta after losing a couple to last year's storm, remember?”

Unfortunately, Dyson did remember. His gaze traveled to the floor. “I-I do, s-sir. Hope they be real nice. We be needin’ those new hands.”

“Mhmm.” Dyson saw the back of his master’s head bobbing, while his master’s hand turned the page. At first, Dyson thought that his master had nodded to his response, but then he heard his master’s voice hum to a beat, a beat that Dyson recognized. He was about to ask him why he was humming it, but Mr. Burr beat him to it.

“You know, Dyson? I miss your mother’s tunes. Reminds me of my wife playing her piano,” Mr. Burr said. He hadn’t turned around, but his head was no longer paying attention to the paper in front of him. The night sky was much more interesting.

“I do too, sir.” Dyson stood frozen, his feet numb. “Momma’s really good at piano.”

“That she is, which is why I need you to do me a favor. Could you tell her I’d really appreciate it if she’d start again?” He turned to see Dyson’s stalwart stance. “She’s the only negro woman I ever heard play that well on a piano.”

“I’ll tell her, sir.”

“You better,” Mr. Burr said with a smirk. “She needs to start practicing. I’d like for her doing that so I don’t have to read in here anymore.”

“Is that why you come out here?” Dyson asked.

Mr. Burr shook his head, before he turned to his paper once again. He grimaced. “I feel… my wife’s presence here. We used to come in here once in a while to get away from everything.” He paused and flicked to the next page. “You remember that?”

Dyson walked towards him. “Definitely, sir. I came out to serve ya both a few times. That was…” He paused, counting on his fingers. “Five years?”

“Six. Six years, boy.” The paper crackled a bit. “You came with your family that long ago. And she’s been gone for three less.” He plopped his feet back up on his other chair. “Anyway, when your mother does her playing, she makes the house feel more… home-like. It don’t feel so empty, you know?”

Dyson wanted to say no, because he had never had that problem, but he nodded anyway.

“Knew you’d understand. You a smart working negro. That’s why you don’t work as much out there.”

“I know, sir. I appreciate your kindness,” Dyson said with a smile.

“I try, even in these times,” Mr. Burr said, before putting his paper down. He looked at the clock and saw the hands tick-tock their way near twelve. “Whelp, looks like it’s time for you to get some shut-eye.”

“You not headin’ to bed, sir?” Dyson asked as he opened the door.

Mr. Burr shook his head. “No, boy, I’m too absorbed in these news articles to go to bed just yet. But you need to, so don’t stay awake for my sake.”

“Alright, sir. I’ll be gittin to bed. I’ll be up for mornin’ harvest!”

Mr. Burr laughed. “Hope so.”

Dyson bowed and exited the room. “Good night, sir.”

“G’night, Dyson,” Mr. Burr replied.

When the door clicked shut, Mr. Burr smiled, and turned the page.

The sun woke me up, not Dash. There was a problem with that: she had told me she would keep watch. I didn’t need that much sleep, so the fact that I even got what felt like forever made my mouth open wide, letting out a tremendous yawn. Rubbing the sleep off my eyes, I turned to look for the colorful-not-horse, whose rainbow mane was resting on the same grains as I. And she was, fast asleep…

...snoring.

I nudged her, furious. How could she fall asleep? She was the one who warned me about this place’s monsters, and here I was, nudging her in hopes of waking her up! Her body just wiggled to my touch, while her snores remained unaffected, loud as can be.

“Dash.” I said with a bit of venom. I prodded her with a little more force, nudging her side with my knuckle.

It got her to mutter something in her sleep, but she wasn’t budging, her hooves curling under her belly.

And that’s when I saw it: a tuft of fur on her belly. It looked so fluffy that it could be the way to wake her up. I smirked and glazed my fingers over it and—

“W-Wha, huh?” Rainbow Dash mumbled. Her eyes darted to and fro, before she craned her neck to me. ‘I… Dyson?” She tilted her head. “What are you doing?”

“Tryin’ to wake ya up, that’s what,” I said. “You were supposed to wake me up when ya wanted to get some sleep.”

The mare let out a very sharp yawn. “Sorry about that, Dyson. I didn’t even know I fell asleep. One moment I was thinking about what I’d do when I get home, and the next you’re tickling my chest.”

Dyson smirked. “Well nearly punching you didn’t even wake you up. Hell, you’d probably sleep through a stampede if I let ya!”

Dash giggled, before letting out a short blow. “Sounds like something Applejack would say.” She frowned. “Probably be worried just like the rest of the girls when they find out I’m missing.”

“Best be on our way to meet ‘em, right?” I said, my hand outstretched. Helping her apparently earned me a confused look, a raised brow that twitched at the thought of me being nice, so I decided to continue, “Need help up?”

She stammered out a reply, “S-Sure.” She put her hoof in my hand, letting me pull her up. It was an awkward tug, but she soon found her bearings. Unfortunately, her wing kept reminding her how not-okay she was, making her wince. “I hope my wing doesn’t get infected. That’d stink having to be grounded at the clinic for a whole month.” She rolled her eyes, and stretched her uninjured wing. “I can’t tell you how much I hate that place. It feels like I keep visiting it every week with a new injury!”

“What’s a clinic?”

Her brow really twitched at that one. Was that something I should have known? I just stared on as that left brow trembled uncontrollably.

“Dyson, when we get back, I need you to talk to my friend, Twilight, because if you don’t know what a clinic is… I wonder if you even know what medicine is.”

I shook my head. “Can’t tell ya that either.”

Dash sighed. Her grit teeth and ruffled muzzle made her look like she wanted to punch me. Maybe not knowing things she knew made her irritated.

Or maybe she was alone with something she never knew existed, while having to deal with a broken wing. She’s stuck with me: a slave who she ran into while flying, and with no way out in sight, it's probably got her all rattled. These are only possibilities though, I don’t know her well enough to just assume, much like she doesn’t know me well.

She walked away from me, staring out beyond the cave. I walked beside her and looked down at her. “Whatcha lookin’ at?”

“How did you get up here without wings?”

I wiggled my fingers. “These work hard, Dash. I just climbed my way up.”

She turned to me, her mouth and eyes wide open. “With me on your back?”

“Dash, you is light as a feather on a chicken,” I said, earning me a glare. I put my hands out in front of me. “It’s true! I put you over my shoulder, and climbed. I didn’t know this place, so I made sure to be not near the ground, that way nothin’ would snatch us!” I looked down at the gorge below. I could see the water trickle down. “Guessin’ ya want down?”

She nodded. “But the ledge is way too thin for me, Dyson. I don’t know if I can walk on it.”

I smirked at her. “Wanna find out?”

“Is that a challenge?”

“Take it as ya may, Dash,” I reply, seeing her matching smirk. “I just givin’ you my thoughts.”

She stepped forward, and placed her hoof on the ledge. She was right, the ledges around us were extremely thin. This was where I stopped, since I knew trying to go higher was pointless—all the ledges were too thin for my fingers to get a good grip. So I just settled in this cave, hoping that nothing would snatch us. We were… high up, just not even close to half-way. This place was huge.

I sat on the edge of the ledge, and prepared myself to head down. Meanwhile, Dash looked above us to confirm what I already knew:

“Dyson, we can’t go up either. Those ledges look super thin—”

“Yeah, but them down there don’t look like they ain’t meant for climbin’.” I began to dangle over the side. “Ya ready?”

“Dyson, I can’t do that with hooves.”

Right, she’s like a horse. “Okay, well,” I said, pulling myself back up. “Git on my back, and wrap your hooves round my neck.”

“Okay,” Dash said, doing as I told her. She draped herself over me, her forelegs wrapped around my neck. “Like this?”

I smiled. “Yep, just like that.” I got back on the side of the ledge and began to descend. “Keep a good hold on me, alright?”

“I’ll try.” Her voice sounded anxious. Was she thinking I was going to drop her? “Don’t drop me.”

“Not plannin’ to,” I replied, wearing a smirk.

The climb down wasn’t rough as she thought, but it didn’t mean that her added weight didn’t add any strain. And I bet she wouldn’t admit it, but she was whimpering the first few times I dropped down. It wasn’t something I would make fun of her for, but from what I’ve gotten from her, she’s very prideful, much like Mr. Stockton. And if Mr. Stockton was anything to go by, she didn’t have the guts to admit it right away.

By the time we were closer to the bottom, my fingers were rough, and my muscles felt worked. I decided to check on my passenger to see if she was okay, but her fidgeting told me a different story, one of fear. “Ya alright back there?”

“S-Shut up,” she stuttered.

I couldn’t help but let out a chuckle. “Just checkin’ to see you ain’t colder than a wagon tire.” I swing my body a bit. “Careful, goin’ for ‘nother swing.”

That got her to tense up, as I swung myself from one ledge to the next. “Why did you do that?”

“Look to your left, Dash.”

She saw what I was seeing: a larger ledge directly to our left. It had a way down that didn’t involve me getting strangled to death by a worried horse. She gasped, and said, “Just one more swing, Dyson, you can do it!”

I smirked and told her to hold on tight. And tightly she did, but she wasn’t worried anymore. I saw that excited smile, before I took the plunge, swinging to the next grey ledge.

We landed just fine. Although scraping my knee was not part of the plan. I winced slightly, but it was just because the minor injuries hurt the most.

Dash hopped off my back, and kissed the ground rather graciously. “I have never ever said this, so if you told anypony, I’d deny it outright.” She hopped in front of me. “Got it?”

“Understood, Dash.”

“I’m so glad I’m finally on the ground.”

Hearing this was different. Never had heard someone say that they were glad to be on the ground. I get the feeling though. It felt good to finally not have to hear another person shouting at me to do something. So far, I did stuff on my own, or, well, with someone, that is.

“Me too, Dash.” I took a gander at the raging waves ahead of us that were racing down the unexplored valley. “Me too.”

Grocery

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It was night time, and the grocery was open late. That wasn’t the norm around Ripley: the grocery closed early to ensure there weren’t any drunks wandering the streets of the small town. But tonight was different. The Crossroads, known as the local grocery and inn to passerbys, had just gotten restocked of inventory, something that newcomers didn’t know about. Many locals were willing to pay top dollar to get their hands on the new arrivals.

Mr. Burr was one of those high rollers, as he strolled in on his horse.

“Whoa there,” he said, his hands slightly tugging on the horse’s reins. The brown stallion responded in kind, coming to a halt before huddling close beside the establishment.

He quickly hopped off it and hooked it to a nearby wooden stable-rack. His horse neighed hard, which prompted Mr. Burr to talk him down. “There, there,” he cooed, petting the horse. “It’s okay, I’ll be only gone for a min—”

“Whatta night, Mr. Burr!”

Mr. Burr nearly yelped as his gaze snapped to the man in the corner. It surprised Mr. Burr that he hadn’t seen the man, but as he realized who it was, Mr. Owens was known for being sneaky as well as being hyperactive.

The man had a face of a young boy, his cheeks puffy and his face lacking any facial hair. His brown beady eyes beamed at anyone who’d be passing by, and his attire of a clean white collared shirt, a black bow tie, a brown vest, and a cream sack coat matched his brown pantaloons and shoes. Safe to say, he was dressed to impress.

“G-Glad you could join us, Mr. Owens,” Mr. Burr said with a shaky tip of his hat. “Mr. Stockton told me about your... excitement.”

The shrill screech that came from Mr. Owens nearly made Mr. Burr wince. “You bet! Wilhelm was hollering ‘bout the new shipment, that I jus’ couldn’t keep that ole yipper yapper of mine shut!” He stifled a chuckle. “Ripley needed to know about this shipment! It’s the best one this year!”

Mr. Burr raised a brow at that. “How many?”

Mr. Owens came forth, and nudged Mr. Burr. This usually was a way of telling somebody to lend them an ear. So Mr. Burr did just that. He craned his neck low, while cupping his ear. Mr. Owens whispered…

“Fifty-five!”

...and Mr. Burr’s eyes widened. “Are you sure, Mr. Owens?”

Mr. Owens gripped his vest in the center, while wearing the smuggest of smirks. “You betcha! They brought these lot by the wagons—something that Ripley hadn’t seen since the beginning of the war!”

It was like a dream. Mr. Burr knew they were short on hands, so hearing about this… made him crack a smile. “That’s great! I hope that I get something out these lot.”

“All you have is hope when I’m bidding you, Mr. Burr.”

Mr. Burr knew who that was. It was a certain someone who loved to toss out as much as he could, if it meant to make others go out of business. “You might not want to start counting your chickens before they hatch, Mr. Stockton. There ain’t going to be no prime negroes for your plantation.”

The two men approached each other with pleasant smiles. Then, they shook hands. “Good to see you.”

“Same to you,” replied Mr. Stockton. “Couldn’t help but notice you and Mr. Owens talking up the market. Guessing you got the news?”

“If you mean, the rumor of how many there are, then yes, rather… excitedly, as a matter of fact,” Mr. Burr said, while casting a sidelong glance at Mr. Owens, who approached the taller men with a short, embarrassed grin.

“Well, that’s our Owens. Just a bit excited when word gets out about inventory.” Mr. Stockton twirled the end of his stache. “Let’s not keep the others waiting, shall we?”

The other two men nodded, and entered the Crossroads, or so Mr. Burr tried. He couldn’t help but pause, while the other two men entered without hesitation. He thought he saw a light flickering across the street at the trading post. He thought that someone had forgotten to blow out their candlelight, but that was thoroughly dashed when the light brightened before his very eyes.

And when he blinked, the light was no longer there.

He shook his head and walked into the grocery, willing to disregard the phenomenon.

Inside, merriment was abundant. Men were happily drinking to the tunes of the ole South, while the barkeep was keeping tabs on the ones at the bar. Mr. Burr doubted that the upstairs folk didn’t like this noise—if any of them were still up there. On this type of night, no one was asleep. They were either drowning in liquor with friends, or making their way to a light brown door towards the back of the building. Behind that door was an area segregated from the freedom of alcohol, and a place that Mr. Burr’s company was eager to cash-in on.

“‘Bout time for the showing?” Mr. Stockton asked.

Mr. Owens shrugged. “Probably soon. Let’s get back there before—”

“Hello gentlemen. Want some of the finest beer in all of Mississippi?”

Mr. Burr was about to respond with a polite response, but Mr. Owens beat him to the punch. “Naw, we gettin’ ready to see them back in the back!”

At first, Mr. Burr thought he saw the barkeep frown, but that changed when the man gave the three a bright smile. “Well, when you’re done, don’t hesitate to come back out to get some of the finest drinks in the state!”

“That’d be good. We’ll keep that in mind,” Mr. Burr replied. He gave Mr. Stockton a slight smile. “Go on ahead, I need to ask the barkeep something.”

The two men nodded, scurrying towards the green door of life, while Mr. Burr hopped on an empty stool and looked at his fellow man.

“Whatcha needing, sir?”

Mr. Burr placed a ten dollar banknote on the table, and slid it forward. “As an apology for… Mr. Owens’ outburst.”

The barkeep smiled. “How did ya know I was bothered by that?”

Mr. Burr shrugged. “Intuition had been a strong suit of mine since I was young.”

“Well, thank you kindly.” The barkeep gave him a nod. “You’re a good man, Mr…?”

“Burr.” He said with a smile. “And thank you. I hope you have a nice night.”

“You too, Mr. Burr.” The barkeep snatched the banknote and scrubbed the front desk with a towel.

The two men went their separate ways. One kept behind the counter, cleaning leftover liquid from the previous patrons glasses, while the other made his way to the brown door, his footsteps click-clacking against the floor like glass tapping against drunken memories.

After getting her off my back and onto that ledge, we made our way down, hooves and feet pitter-pattering against soulless dirt. I wondered if this was how it was going to be for the next few days, just walking and worrying every waking moment that something was going to get us. But that wasn’t going to happen, was it?

I shook my head and looked at Dash. She was limping a bit, something that I didn’t notice until she started walking down the ledge with me.

“Dash, you alright?”

She stopped and looked at me. “Y-Yeah…” Her grimace was showing her lie. “I’m doing fine.”

“Not buyin’ it.” I knelt down in front of her and took a look at her hoof. “Yep, that hoof lookin’ beat up. Ya might want to be careful—”

“I know, I know,” Dash replied as she rolled her eyes.

I raised a brow at her for that one. What was with that tone? But before I could figure it out, she was walking ahead of me. So I bit my tongue, and kept moving.

Time passed, and not a word was said. Dash was too focused. The only time she checked to see if I was here was if she didn’t hear me close to her. She’d check back to see me lagging behind, something that she didn’t take too kindly, telling me that she’s ‘seen tortoises move faster than me’. Not sure what she meant by that, but I decided to pick up the pace anyway.

And then, we met solid ground. There wasn’t the fear of falling. Nothing but the grey grains and a raging stream of water. I thought she’d recognize the water and ask if we should follow it, but instead, she walked past the thing, and continued her merry way in the opposite direction.

I rushed toward her. “Dash?”

She turned around. “Yeah…?”

“Why you goin’ that way?”

She raised a brow at me. “Dyson, we’re like… a hop, skip, and a jump from the other side of the Gorge!” She looked at me with a wide smile. “If we find a way up, I could lead us to Ponyville so we can get some help!”

That cliffside was huge. I think it might be bigger than the one we climbed down from. “But Dash, that’s really high up.”

“I know, but look!" She pointed at the ledges with her good leg. There were a lot of ledges, and they weren't as far apart as the ones we came down from. "They're so many ways of getting up this side that it should be way safer than where we came down from!" She snorted. "Besides, I’ve flown higher and—”

“Yet ya can’t fly,” I said, pointing to her wings.

Reminding her might’ve made her growl. Either that, or she was trying to fight the pain, if her lip bite and tightly closed eyes were any reason to believe.

“So?” Dash replied with her grit teeth. She opened her eyes and quickly pointed her not damaged hoof at me. “You just had me on your back through that climb down! You could easily carry me up.”

“That ain't the point! I could drop ya and—”

Dash growled and stood on her hind legs. She then lunged toward me, hooking her forehooves around my neck. With a bit of strength, she bumped her muzzle against my nose. “Listen, bub. Do we have much of a choice? It’s either we go up, or we go face those hydras out there.” She shoved her left forehoof toward the screaming monsters to make her point. They sounded angry. She pulled back and smirked. “I don’t think you and I are able to outrun them either.”

“They fast?”

“When they’re hungry, they are,” Dash whispered. That got my back all cold. “So, what do you think?”

I think of a lot of things: the fields, what Master was doing that day, making sure my little sister wasn’t running around, doing errands for Master—I think she’s staring at me a bit too much—It was definitely a good idea to not get killed by hydras. But what if we fell? What if we died?

But being stuck down here sounded much, much worse. There wasn’t anything to eat down here. Sure there was water, but there were definitely things down here that wanted to eat us. Dying was not something I wanted.

So I guess everything made sense now. I guess there’s only one thing left to say. “Alright, guess you win. Looks like we be… climbin’ on up...”

“Alright!” Dash yipped as she landed on all fours. Even though she was hobbling, she moved like she wasn’t hurt that much at all. “Let’s get going, Dyson!”

As I watched her waddle way towards our first obstacle, I felt an aching, nervous feeling, like one of those ones that tickle your stomach until it starts to wretch. Maybe it was the possibility—no, the reality that I was going to go climbing up yet another cliffside. We were not in the shape to outrun them. We have no other options.

I was nervous. Yeah, just nervous enough that I gulped down what little salvia I had left in my mouth. It wasn’t that I was afraid to die… No siree. Not at all.

Behind Closed Doors

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He knocked twice. The door swung open.

“Jus’ in time, Mr. Burr!”

Mr. Burr walked in, taking in the view of the back of the Crossroads. It always smelled off here, but the inventory trickled owners to the place.

The door promptly slammed behind him, leaving the sounds of chanting and merriment in the next room.

Inside, the room was lit by candles. Each one burned intensely, casting an orange hue over the people inside. Many patrons were seated, watching an older looking gentleman take the stand. He took a pause to clear his throat, before he spoke with promise.

“Gentleman, I hope y’all havin’ a great night!”

An owner down the line from Mr. Burr wanted to make his presence known. “I sure have! Whiskey in me good!”

He laughed. Some joined in with hearty good cheer, but the rest of us stayed quiet, albeit for the older man who promptly shifted his cap and leaned on the podium.

One of the fellows next to the boisterous man nudged him, before whispering a few words into his ears. The laughter died soon after, giving the speaker the floor once again. The speaker smiled, and cast his arm out to the door next to him. “Well if you haven’t had a good one, then we can make your night much better. We got quite a good helpin’ of able negroes for you folks tonight!”

Everyone waited in anticipation, including Mr. Burr, whose face fell at the sight of the door. It was like a gate to a cage. He could see a few shadows in the back, but nothingmore.

Then, everything changed when they came in.

Mr. Burr took in the sight of the ‘inventory’. It was as Mr. Owens had said: fifty-five negroes of young and old hobbled their way in, chained together like they were just caught running. It wasn’t jarring for Mr. Burr; he had seen this before, but not so many since the time he got into the business. Back then, many of them came: some close to sixty, but that was a rarity. Getting something as close to sixty at one of these was more than a sign of the market growing.

But the fact that these negroes were chained unsettled Mr. Burr. The only time they were chained up was when one of them was an unruly slave. That made him a little less valued—and a bit more of a challenge for an owner to keep on the plantation.

Yet… now it was harder to tell. They were all chained. How was he to tell who was the best to pick?

Yet again, he also knew why they were chained. These folks don’t want another Turner.

Another Nat Turner…

Mr. Burr felt his spine twinge thinking about that. If these lot weren’t chained up, they would run over the buyers within seconds. The thought made him wish he brought his pistol.

“We’ll start with some of the younger ones, and work our way up…”

Mr. Burr kindly tuned the gentleman out once again. At first, Mr. Burr worked his gaze down the line and back, seeing the young and old lined up in chains. But, then, as he scanned over the lot a second time, his eyes locked on to a boy, who, if Mr. Burr could estimate, was nearly the same age as Dyson. Although shorter than Dyson, the boy had longer and strong-looking arms. It looked like this boy could haul all the corn and bags of cotton by himself, something that made Mr. Burr imagine stacks of banknotes behind the boy.

And then, those banknotes dissolved, leaving Mr. Burr nothing but that boy to see. Mr. Burr saw the boy’s eyes, how big and blue they were, and how they were looking down the line, at an older woman whose lush bob locks told him the whole story.

Mother and son.

Another possible family to add to the collection.

Mr. Burr patiently waited for the speaker to announce the boy’s turn. Child after child were sold, some to the dismay of others, but he knew that this boy was the one he wanted, and the mother was part of the package. Hopefully someone didn’t try to get his number. He didn’t want to have to match.

“Alright! Looks like we got a prime loader here for somebody lucky enough!” The speaker said. “Wha’chur name?”

The boy sounded nervous. “L-Leo, sir.”

His voice didn’t carry that well. Those nerves are an issue, but with a bit of work, he’d be good for the farm.

“Alright, now for those wonderin’, this boy here is a prime negro who was taken from one of the plantations up north. He’d been working the fields for a long while, so he doesn’t need any training, and he’s been loading grain for a couple years!” The man turned to the boy fully and glared. “Turn around.”

The boy did, although his chains were clacking together a bit. Mr. Burr could sense that he was extremely nervous. The woman he deemed the boy’s mother did too. Her eyes were darting right to him, and she definitely gulped.

Then, the speaker lifted the boy’s shirt up.

“As you can see, no signs of whippin', and the boy is certainly not fatigued! He’s a perfect set of hands for any work needed—”

Mr. Burr didn’t even give the man to finish his speech. He saw enough to make an offer. “I’ll take him and that woman up a ways for twelve hundred.”

The crowd immediately snapped to Mr. Burr, as if he was outright delirious for making such an offer when the speaker wasn’t finished. On the other hand, the supposed mother was looking at him, her eyes watering and her lips curling to a smile.

“T-Twelve hundred?” the speaker asked, his eyes opened wide.

Twelve hundred. Mr. Burr didn’t lie with numbers. He counted high enough, did he?

“A-Anyone else have an offer?”

The room was silent. Not even the slaves muttered a peep.

“Then I guess you got them two Mr.B—”

“Twelve hundred fifty.”

That voice. Mr. Burr knew that voice.

“Mr. Stockton?”

The black hat was tipped in his direction. “I told you all you had was hope, didn’t I?”

Mr. Burr groaned.

And the bidding war drew on into the night...

Hopping down from this huge hill was much easier than climbing up this.

“Come on, Dyson, you can do it!”

And the horse on my back was certainly not helping the cause.

“It’d be much easier if I didn’t have ya wringin’ my neck!”

As if the strained words had weight, Dash had loosened her hold on my neck. “Yeesh, sorry! I didn’t know!” She nuzzled up against my back. “Is that better?”

“Yes,” I replied. “Now keep it down, climbin’s rough enough like this.”

A whinny was what I got. A really irritated whinny. She definitely behaved like a horse when she wanted to: mad when she didn’t get her way, and I bet if she got the chance, she’d growl and possibly bite my hand off.

I grabbed onto the next ledge in front of me. I actually haven’t even climbed up the cliff face. No, we’re just getting up to an area where we could walk up it. How did I climb up the side of this before? I must’ve been lucky, because there’s no way I could’ve done this without some divine help.

Panting, I kept my system going: one hand in front of the other, the harsh grains piercing my hands. It made this charcoal skin of mine turn lifeless, but with a few pats on my pant legs, the dust was gone… somewhat. Only a little powder marked those pants of mine.

I’m glad that these haven’t gotten worn through. Had them since last winter. Most of our clothes got cycled out—unless you weren’t working hard. If you were, it was great. If you were slacking, you were not getting another share until you were working. It… made tending the fields both motivating and stressful, something that, well, Master noticed when I was working in the fields.

I grimaced as the memory came into full. The sun was high when it happened, because boy, phew, it was hot that day. I remember none of us were moving that well. The sweat just stuck to my skin. Wearing a shirt wasn’t good those days.

On this day though, we hadn’t gotten a break the whole morning. I was used to working without a break though back then. I just moved through the pain. Or maybe… back then, I was used to the struggle. We were used to the struggle. We just moved around without yapping to the guards, and we didn’t show them our pain. Nobody ain’t giving us nothing, just another day to survive. We’d get a new pair of clothes, some food, and some water, and then we’d get ready for the next day.

Master back then saw me just working hard, to the point of nearly falling over. And when I did fall, he was there in a split second, and told the rest of them to get under the trees to rest.

That day… he learned to give us a break.

But not to Leo.

I felt a tear drip down my face as I grabbed onto the next ledge. Why couldn’t Master let him take that break? Was there something that I didn’t know about? He could’ve... done more for us, but now Leo...

I tried not to frown. I tried. It’s there though, now. I could feel my lips curling and such. Why? I didn’t know. Leo didn’t want this. He didn’t want me being all upset over him. I paused and wiped my cheek with my arm.

I felt Dash’s look on my back, but she didn’t speak up. She didn’t even move none, save for adjusting her forehooves that were around my neck. It made breathing harder than it should. Every time I took one, I grunted. I groaned. I sometimes even growled. Yet she didn’t loosen up again. She’s probably petrified.

I took one last breath and swung to the ledge and pulled myself up. My body gasped for breath as I laid there, looking up at the many more ledges I needed to climb. And then, I felt her hooves fall from my neck. I turn to see her rolled off me and onto the ledge.

Wait. On the ledge?!

“You did it, Dyson!” She said cheerfully, looking over at me with glee.

“I made it?” My eyes flickered towards the ground around us. It was a large ledge, but nothing worth writing a letter about. There were still so much above us. “But we ain’t up there yet.”

“Smaller victories, Dyson,” Dash replied with an ear-to-ear smile. “Let’s take a break. We need to save all the energy we can get since we have much more climbing to do.”

“Ya mean I have more climbing to do.”

“Eeexactly!”

I groaned.

At least I wasn’t upset about Leo no more.

Time felt like it tickled my hairs. It must be a way of telling me that I was alive, that this place was not a simple dream. These monsters and this horse were all real. We were real. Nothing else mattered.

So what was the matter, then? The fact that, well, I was stuck here with this horse? I didn’t have a say in the matter. I mean, it’s better than being stuck with that hydra down the stream but…

I shook my head and got up. Little rocks like these were hard to relax on. They pinched and stamped your back like whips cracking against scarred skin—my stomach crawled. I don’t need to remember him. Not yet…

My body stretched this way and that. Arms bent. Neck cracked. Fingers (although grayed) flexed better than ever. Indents everywhere, but who cared? Not I. Not her. She was looking at the cliff. Why? I don’t know. Curious? Spotting the cracks that could give me a tumble? She wasn't a worrier, was she?

No, that’s not her. She turned and trotted on over.

“Dyson, you’re up. Guess you were more tired than you let on.”

Tired of being choked to death. I rolled my eyes. “Can’t say I was doing well in the first place.”

For some reason, she tilted her head. “What do you—” But then, she gasped. “I said I was sorry!” The tilt was no longer there. She was just looking at me like she was angry at me, but she still had some sort of smile wedged on her face, so I guess she wasn't mad at all.

“Still doesn’t take the pain away,” I mumbled, my hand slowly grazing against my neck. It still hurt from her hooves leaning on it. Maybe Dash wasn’t as light as I thought. Or maybe she wasn’t a fan of falling.

Rainbow Dash rolled her eyes. “You’ll live. Now, come on!” She started walking towards the cliff again, but not without beckoning me with her good wing. “We need to get out of here and fast! The faster we get to Ponyville, the better we’re off!”

The sun was a bit lower in the sky than it was a bit ago. “Alright, hold your horses.”

I didn’t see her stop, but I did hear her. She growled loudly, and boy was it a bit more aggressive than any other neigh I heard. “What did you say?”

“On second thought, I’m comin’!” I ran towards her without a second to think. If I wanted to live, then I needed to not say that around her again. Didn’t want to make her mad, since she’s the only one who knew this place.

Now, as I looked at her, she didn’t seem mad at all. In fact, she was brazen with that little smirk that wormed onto her face. “That’s what I thought you said.”

Bitter

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After sharing a couple drinks with his friends, Mr. Burr walked out of the Crossroads with two new folks in tow.

The first was an older woman, who was a bit grave in her appearance. Even though her hair bounced happily as she walked, those lush locks couldn't compare to her dragged gait, which collected dust along the path to her new home. In fact, she didn't even look where she was truly going, her eyes downcast. Was there something the matter? Or was she just conflicted? Her face could tell a different tale, a mixture of sadness and relief, a downed woman with lips trying to curl up into a smile, as she brought her gaze to the second.

The second was a boy, a long and tall fellow who smiled back at the woman while he clawed at his wrist. It was, as if, he could feel that woman's presence every time she looked at him. Although, when they weren't looking at each other, their emotions seemed to differ. The boy's smile soon faded into obscurity, wrestled down by the chains that bound him to limited movement. They rattled and dangled like those ready for prison. The boy frowned, whether it was the sound or the fact of them existing was not known, but he frowned nonetheless, as he too walked to the jingle of corrections.

Out of the lot, Mr. Burr was smiling the most. He had finally done it. He had beaten Mr. Stockton in the bidding war, while still carrying a good deal of banknotes on his person. The only thing that worried him was that Mr. Stockton didn't boost the price as high as it could've been, which worried Mr. Burr at first, but now served as nothing but a warning not heeded. He had gained a foothold on the plantation. He had more hands to help him revitalize his force. Mr. Burr could see the banknotes flooding in.

But…

...

Mr. Burr hopped on his horse. It replied with a harsh neigh and a bit of impatient stamping to boot.

"Now, now, don't fret," Mr. Burr cooed. "These are just the newest slaves to the plantation…"

Explaining it didn't help the matter. The horse was still an irritated horse, as it glared at the two newcomers.

Mr. Burr sighed. "Come close, boy."

The boy did as he was told, but not without some apprehension. He took a deep breath before he slid next to his new owner, which made Mr. Burr pause. "Yes… sir?"

He seemed like a nervous one, that was for sure, but Mr. Burr didn't want to start attaching labels so early on. This boy was a new one, if those chains clanking against each other had anything to say about it. What gave way that nervousness were those legs of his. They visibly shook where he stood. What was he afraid of? Was it the horse, or was it Mr. Burr?

"Are you alright boy?"

The boy nodded. "Y-Yessir."

"Now don't lie to me," Mr. Burr said sternly. "I'm just worried about you."

Instead of flinching, the boy's gaze went adrift. The ground apparently looked more of interest to him. "Mm sorry, sir. I… won't be a bother."

"A bother?" Mr. Burr craned his head towards the boy, peering down at him. "How so?" When the boy didn't respond, Mr. Burr hummed an affirmative. "I see… Well, when we get to the plantation, I will make sure that this is addressed. I do not want my slaves to be scared of me." He rubbed at his chin. "I think you shall see your time with me as… an experience."

The two nodded. The boy gravitated towards the older woman, who he held onto for dear life.

Mr. Burr couldn't help himself. Seeing the scene was both sad and confusing, but his body failed to let him see the difference any farther. Hell, he nearly had to stifle a chuckle. It must be that whiskey that was doing him in. Maybe some sleep would help fix him up.

"Alright, let's head on back. Make sure to stay close to the horse, unless you want to be shot by the folks walking about."

"S-Shot?"

"Of course, boy! Every plantation got some hired hands for that alone!" Mr. Burr said joyously. He let out a hearty laugh. "Look at it this way, at least mine are told when to fire!"

The two weren't laughing. They were just walking on while Mr. Burr harped about life in a world they never knew existed.

I guess I needed to focus on more than just climbing.

"So, what did you do as a… slave?"

At first, it sounded like she couldn't say the word, but then she said it with such bitterness. I didn't know why she sounded so upset over it. I mean, what was there to be upset about? That's what I was, a slave. The word didn't affect me, it was just a part of me, so while she was burdened with the word, I was keeping my mind focused on climbing, hoisting us higher and higher against the grit and grime of a place long gone. "I did quite a b-bit, actually. Moved some grain, helped my master with whatever he needed, and kept an eye out on the others that were with me."

The pony behind me gently grazed the back of my neck. It nearly made me shiver. I didn't get why she did that; Dash didn’t seem like she’d be the type to— "Why didn't you leave?"

"The plantation?"

"Yeah! Couldn't you just bust out of the place?"

I knew the answer, but it was lodged in my throat. She didn't need to know the specifics. She didn't need to know about the pain. She didn’t need to know about Master. She didn’t even need to know about Leo. No, no. I didn't trust her with all that yet. Besides, she wouldn't understand.

"Dyson?"

I quietly hoisted myself up to the next ledge.

"Dyson?"

That sounded like how momma used to say my name. She was a bit more angry than this pony was, though. I knew that I needed to say something though.

But what?

I sighed. "You really want'a know?"

A neigh in response, with a tinge of a whinny behind it. What type of yes was that?

"I reckon that's a yes?"

I could sense her roll her eyes at that one. "Yes, Dyson."

"It's because they had a lot of guards around at all times of the day," I began, feeling the tension slowly leave me as I gripped onto the next bit of rock jutting from the wall. "Master was… afraid that we'd leave, even though it hadn't happened to him. Well, and there's another reason too, but ya might not like it."

"Well, I already don't like the fact that you were a slave—" A yelp interrupted her thought as I had to hop a bit too far to the left in order for us to get to a safer path. The heat that bore into my shoulder was certainly not from the sun. She picked up where she left off, "Slave's aren't a thing here in Equestria! The only pony who ever had some was Sombra, and well, let's just say he won't be enslaving anypony anymore."

"Who was Sombra?"

"Some King who wanted to enslave ponies up North. Unfortunately for him, my friends and I were around to stop him… sort of."

"Sort of?"

She hummed as I hopped over to the next ledge to my right. "Let's just say, it was more of Princess Cadance and Spike than me, but I still helped!"

Her wing flapped behind me. I knew that was not because she wanted to fly. "Sounds like ya wanted it all."

"N-No!" Dash stuttered, which caused me to chuckle. I had to keep still, because it was hard to concentrate on climbing when your insides were begging for air. "Dyson, come on! It's not that funny!"

I kept on laughing. She neighed once again, a bit more aggressively this time.

"You still haven't answered my question, Dyson."

And just like that, my laughter stopped. She flipped the coin back in my direction, and I was caught with my tongue stuck in my gullet. "I…" I was about to reach for another ledge, to get this feeling away, but I couldn't. My hand wasn't working like it should be.

I gulped down whatever tension was in my throat. I had to say something here.

"Master… was like a second father to me."

I closed my eyes. I could see her eyes widen, those big ole pink things looking at me with fire in them. But I could imagine that muzzle contorting and such, like when Master got mad at me way back when for taking the wrong letter, the paper getting ruffled and bent out of shape. It wasn’t a pretty sight with what he did afterwards.

I still remember the crackle of the—

A fierce growl threw me out of the vision I was having, which made me open my eyes to make sure I was still holding on to the ledge in front of me.

"How could he? He enslaved you, Dyson!"

"More like saved me," I mumbled, as I began my routine again, my fingers rubbing against the rough rock. I could feel the pain sear through my dry, cracked skin, but I pressed on. “It didn’t matter. I didn’t get no say. He… was so much nicer than the rest of them.”

For a while it was just the sounds of me breathing in for the next lunge, or grunting as I swung from rock to rock. She didn’t talk, I didn’t talk. It was like silence was the new one holding onto me, while I kept on going up and up.

Then, it stopped. I reached this ledge that jutted far out. I had to swing my body nearly horizontal to get to it, but with quiet little Dash in the back, I was able to get to it with ease. No more yapping in my ear, just a nice place to relax while… well, while I thought about what to say to her.

Was I supposed to say anything to her? I mean, the air had been pretty thick for a while there, since she found out about my Master. Not sure what the big fuss was, but maybe she didn’t get it like I do. That’s it, that’s all there was to it.

Still, maybe I needed to try to talk to her about it. It might be nice if I did that for her, especially since we were sitting on this pretty thick slab. Heck, it had enough room for us to prop up against the wall and watch the sun dip down further. It could even be a good spot to rest at, as long as we weren't looking down the whole time. Bet she would get stressed over that.

Or maybe she's stressed over my response.

I groaned, and it wasn’t because I was pulling us up onto the ledge. Nope, my legs weren’t numb, and my fingers weren’t blazing like the sun. Not at all.

Crawling towards the wall, I let Dash hop off beside me, which she did, or well, tried, only she slid straight on her butt in a heap of fur and duress.

My back thanked me for leaving her there. She was light as could be for a hor—pony, but she sure could make an impact after being on my back for a while. I’ll be aching until we get to whatever place she has been speaking of. Maybe that fancy clinic she was talking about knows how to cure a bad back.

For now, I stayed put, and closed my eyes. I could feel my heart pumping fast. It did this when I did too much for me to handle. Master told me to keep myself in check, because he didn’t want me to keel over. I was someone he could trust within the slaves he had, so I had to be alright for anything to get done.

My voice hummed. Felt good to just lay and relax. This reminded me of the ole oak tree on the farm, the lone one that us little ones hid behind when it was cold, and when Master didn't need me to bring in a yield. He actually let me relax for a while, surprisingly, but whenever I was there, my back felt relieved, and warm. How Iong had we been climbing? Must been long, the sun was almost down.

“Still a long way to go.”

Dash’s tired tone told me to look up. So I did.

That wasn’t what I wanted to see.

“How? It felt like I was climbin’ for hours.”

She giggled rather hard at that. “This gorge takes forever to get out of if you’re not a pegasus.”

As if she spoke the wrong words, Dash’s hurt wing reminded her of a story long since forgotten.

“A healthy pegasus,” she murmured through clenched teeth.

She was a bit of a ways from me now. Probably didn’t want me seeing her stretch her legs (probably accidentally stretched her weak wing too). Since suffering was rough alone, why not have her a bit closer? She might not mind it, would she?

I patted the ground next to me. “Have a seat, Dash.”

The pony trotted over to me on her good three legs and set herself down. She didn’t lean into me at all. Maybe she’s still awkward about me being here. I was new to her, after all.

Still, she did like talking to me. “Thanks,” she said. “I… guess we should talk.”

“‘Bout what?”

“You know what.” Blank. As if her eyes were staring into me, expecting me to know what she meant.

Funny thing was I knew. “Yeah, guess we should.”’

Rainbow Dash sighed and looked out into the gorge. “It stinks that you had to go through all that.”

I felt like I had to look elsewhere. The ground down there was something I wasn’t too fond of, though. “What do ya mean?”

“Being a slave? I don’t think I’d be tough enough to stick it to ‘em. I’d want to get out as quickly as possible.” She shook her head. “No pony like that gets to be in charge of me.”

Stick it to them? What did that mean? And being in charge of? I knew I was in his possession but he never…

“You’d want to leave?”

She gave me that look like I was dumber than the rocks I climbed on. “Of course! No pony should do that to another! It’s wrong on all sorts of levels!”

I looked at my fingers. They were grayer than before. “It’s all hard work that was meant for us, Dash. That’s all we got.”

She paused. A cloud floated on by. “How many of them were there?”

I shrugged. “I ain’t as good at countin’ as I was speakin’.” I took one of my fingers, the longest one, and etched a little in the grit on the rock. “But I was smarter than the rest of them, and Master knew that. So, he kept me close.”

Dash frowned. Why? Maybe there was something I wasn’t getting. “Yet you can’t count?”

“I mean, I can count to twenty.”

“Prove it,” she fired back.

I held my hand up, and pointed at each of them one by one. She heard them all, and then some.

“...eighteen, nineteen, twenty!"

She smiled, but it felt so forced. I wonder why?

“Well, you weren’t lying, but that’s sad that you only know so little.”

“Why do I need'a count higher when I don’t need'a?”

Dash scooted closer, and quietly leaned up against the wall. “Maybe when we get to Ponyville, I’ll get my friend Twilight to give you a few reasons to count to a million.”

“Sounds… great, Dash.”

How high was a million?

I yawned.

Apparently I fell asleep with her beside me. It must not been long, because here I was, sitting where I was before. I stretched a bit, and looked to see...

...she was not there.

“Dash?”

“Over here!”

She had gone a little further down this big rock.

“Why ya walkin’ with your weak hoof?”

“Oh, now you’re worrying about that?”

I get myself up to find her hind. “You know what I meant!”

I walk down the little edge to see another thing I wasn’t expecting to see.

“You found this here cave?”

“Yep!” she said with a bit of a hop. I gripped at my heart. She nearly made me keel over! “Sorry, did I scare you?”

“When you come hoppin’ out there like ya want me to fall off this here ledge, how am I supposed to react?”

“Carefully?” she said with a head tilt. Silly pony. “Look, come on, let’s actually sleep in here for the night! It’s so much bigger than out there!”

“Really?” I asked, stepping into the place.

“Look how much space we got to work with!” She raced around like there was no place like home. “This is going to be much nicer to crash at! There’s no eels to get us, and it’s wwaaayyy safer than being outside with those hydras!"

She was right. Those guys could have killed us if we stayed out there. Don’t know why she didn’t wake me up—

“Tried to wake you up earlier, but you’re a heavy sleeper. I’m going to have to figure out a way to wake you up without knocking you upside the head.”

“Knocking me upside the head!?”

I felt gobsmacked there. Was that why I felt a sudden headache?

She laughed. “Don’t worry, Dyson, I didn’t hit you! It was a joke, yeesh.”

Frowning, I told her how it was. “Terrible joke. I actually felt my head hurt when you said that."

An eye roll was what she gifted me. “You’ll be fine. As long as you’re in shape, and we're well-rested, we'll be out of here in no time!”

“Ya really think so?”

Her grin was ear-to-ear as she spoke all happily, “Of course! You’re way better at climbing than anypony I know!”

“Even though we have a long way to go?”

“Hehe… ever heard of an exaggeration?”

It was my turn to roll my eyes. Ignoring that. “Well, I don't know 'bout you, but I think it's time to get some shut-eye. Good night, Dash.”

"Alright, g'night, Dyson."

I tried to find a comfortable rock to lean against, but to no avail. It was just a wet, open cave that gave little to no comfort. Thankfully, I curled up near one that didn’t make my back scream in pain, so I closed my eyes and let my mind drift.

This’ll be the last night I have to deal with this, anyways.

Break 1

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I walked outside. Mr. Burr was there, standing across the road from me. He was there, smirking at me, like he knew something was going to happen. It… made me want to walk further down the road.

Master never made me feel uncomfortable like that. He’s not like that. He’d make sure I wasn’t overheating or sick. He needed me around. He…

My gaze fell towards the road.

It was dark. I could barely see Mr. Burr before. I could only see his face.

I turned back around, and he was gone. Where did he go?

I stood still, scared straight in place. Maybe he just went to get a lantern. Yeah, that’s it. He knows the way home.

And so should I… but where was home? It was down the road, right?

A loud bang rumbled in the air. Must be one of those guards shooting again. Guess home was just down the road. Guess Mr. Burr was letting me know to get on home or something…

...but that smirk. Why did he give me that look?

Another shot screamed into the night. That must be a gunfight I’m hearing. That ain’t no single one! They don’t shoot that fast!

An explosion erupted near my feet. I stumbled to the ground. I looked at my legs.

They were fine.

What was going on?!

And then, I saw her.

I was at the plantation, just down a ways. Apparently she was near me? Why was she near me?

I shook my head. This couldn’t be real. This can’t be real. She ain’t dead. She can’t be dead. She’s fine. Momma, ain’t she? Why she not moving then, huh? Why she ain’t moving!

Momma, please tell me she fine. Tell me all the way home.

Tell me all the way home.

Ache

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“Massa, y’alright?”

To put it in short, Mr. Burr was not alright. He had spent the whole of last night tossing and turning in his bed, his mind tortured by last night’s merriment. He felt like he could collapse at any minute, holding onto the railing on his back porch for support.

Luckily, he was not alone. Beside him was a young negro woman. She was short, slender, and had natural curls in her hair, although she hid most of them under her head wrap. Her appearance wasn’t nothing to sneer at. In fact, she was the one who kept the others in line. She made sure they weren’t slacking, hauling all that grain and cotton to their respective areas. Mr. Burr appreciated her being in charge of the harvest. There were no mistakes when she was looming over them.

So why was she next to him? Wasn’t she supposed to be out harvesting with the rest of them?

“I’m… fine.” The words struggled out of his mouth, as his stomach churned and his head burned a blazing fire. He couldn’t let her see him in pain. She could tell the other slaves. He had to redirect her, away from the grimace he tried to hide. “How a-are the rest of y’all doing?”

She paused, clearing her throat. “Good, Massa. New ones doin’ well. Grain be put in the right places. Lots of cotton, too. We git more here soon!”

"Good, good,” Mr. Burr breathed. Each breath he took felt rather strained. He nearly clutched his chest at the feeling, and boy did that woman notice it. She had steered herself closer to his side. He put out a hand to stop her in her tracks. “I’m f-fine,” he said through a cough. “Just a slight fever.”

“Ya want me to git Mr. Morris, sir?”

Another cough erupted through Mr. Burr at the sound of that name. “No-no,” he said. He didn’t need physic. Not for something like this. “I’d like t-to speak to Dyson, though, if you c-can find him.”

“Saw him a bit ago, Massa. I git him quick!”

“Thank you.”

He watched her bow before she had left him, scurrying down the steps in search of Dyson. Mr. Burr shakily sighed. His hands weakly clamped onto the railing, as if he held onto it for dear life, but he wasn’t desperate. He wanted to see the fruits of his slaves’ labor. So, with what little energy he had left to spare, Mr. Burr tried to will himself up, trying to peek his head over the railing. Through his squinting eyes, he saw his slaves harvesting under the hot sun, while his guards, the few that were left, fiddled with their muskets under the shade of the trees. Some even shouted at the slaves from afar for their 'work'.

His brow furrowed at that, even though he smelled money in the air.

The headache from yesterday got worse. Felt like my head was being split open. Seeing took a lot of effort; everything was blurry, and to make matters worse, there were… voices. They spoke to me here and there, but nothing sounded right. All of it was just a jumbled mess. A mess that was too much to take in.

That… scared me, to say the least. How could we get out of Ghastly Gorge if I was feeling like this? If I took one wrong move…

The thoughts that kept pounding inside my head careened to a halt when I heard Rainbow Dash’s soft snores. I looked over to see her sound asleep, her head resting against her forehooves. She wasn’t affected by whatever I had, she was just fine laying there as comfortable as one could be in a cave.

I took a deep, shaky breath. Maybe I needed to calm down, blink back a bit of the pain, and bite my tongue. That should do it.

Breathe.

Anxious air left me. Suddenly, I felt my muscles begin to relax, slumping against the wall I was propped on. There was no crick to pester me, only a headache that lingered like a ghost, and that alone felt better than feeling a world of pain. It was enough to put a short smile on my face, and it also made me want to move.

So I got myself off the wall, stretched my arms and legs, and crawled over to the slumbering horse.

She looked so innocent, like a dog napping in the grass. I wanted to reach out and pet her, but that didn’t seem right. So, instead, I decided to be more like a friend, like Leo, and wake her up in the most annoying way possible.

Poke.

Her muzzle scrunched up in response, like one of those instruments back home that crumpled when it breathed. She let out a brief blow, before stirring from her sleep. It made me lightly chuckle, but that soon stopped when her gaze came to me.

“D-Dyson?” she said, slowly pawing where she believed I was.

Of course she couldn’t see me, not when she looked like she was about to fall asleep again. “Right here,” I said, grabbing her hoof gently and pulling it towards me.

She slid her body over to get a better look at me, eyes lazily blinking. “W-What’s happening?”

Her voice cracked even more when she was drowsy. I didn’t expect that. “G’mornin’ to you, too.”

“Already?” she muttered. She tried to use her forehooves to rub her eyes, but—wait she could do that?—a yawn decided to escape her first. “Ahh, why does it have to be morning?”

“Why not?”

She frowned and shook her head. “It’s nothing… I’m just being selfish.”

Selfish? The word just stuck there, as if plastered to the wall. Was tempted to ask her what she meant, but she had already shuffled away from me. She was heading straight for the light, which I now notic—ack!

“Dyson?”

Immediately, my eyes were tightly shut, while my hands shaded them from the sun. “Sorry. Been havin’ a hard time.” My brain pulsed at that. “I-I woke up w-with this… poundin’ in my head. And I… I be—”

As soon as I tried to say something, the world as I knew it grew dark, and my body collapsed onto the floor.

“Dyson!” Dash shouted. She nearly made me leap out of my body, as she quickly came to my side and nudged me away from the light. She got me to the back of our cave, where she propped me upright once again. Except I felt her good wing gently wrap itself around my back.

All the while, I had my eyes closed. I couldn’t open them, it hurt to just look at something outside. Was I being punished? What did I do to deserve this?

A growl, much more frustrated than ever, told me all I needed to know. I made her mad. I knew she wanted out now, but I was here, messing it all up. My head was angry at me too. No food, no water. It was telling me I was stupid. Should’ve gotten some water before we got up here.

Just thinking about all that made my lips turn drier, if it was even possible.

“Maybe we should rest a bit more…”

Her murmurs broke the negative thoughts in me. Yeah, sleeping would be nice. Maybe it’ll go away and I can be better tomorrow—

“No, that would make my head worse,” I said lamely.

And that just made paradise, lost.

“Well, what else could we do?”

I didn’t want to say it, but I had to. We had to get out of here, and there was only one way for us now.

“Up.”

“Up?”

“Yes, Dash. Up.” I sighed. “Think my head’s hurtin’ because I didn’t eat or drink none.”

As if on cue, Dash’s stomach made itself known, a loud growl echoing in the cave that I nearly thought was another one of those hydras outside.

“Guessin’ you’re hungry too,” I said, gently opening my eyes to see her face.

For lack of a better word, she had her forehooves cupping her chin. When she saw my gaze, she huffed and let them fall to her sides. “Yeah… you got me thinking of hayburgers from back home.”

“Hayburgers?” I said, raising a brow.

Dash bobbed her head. “Mhm!” She gently clopped her hooves together and gave me a short smile. “They have a little hay patty in the center that tastes soooo good! When we get back, you should try some with me.”

My burped at that one. “I… don’t think I can have that, Dash.”

“Really?” She gave me a little head tilt, and a little ear twitch to boot. “Why?”

“Hay don’t sit that good in me. It just makes my stomach flip.”

“Oh…” Dash murmured. She glanced away from me, her eyes peering at the light outside the cave. She must’ve forgot I’m not like her. I don't have wings. No fur. No muzzle like hers. I’m different. I’m a slave. She must’ve realized that now and wasn’t saying nothing.

It seemed like she was just trying to figure me out. She’s been a lot more interested in me than I thought. Nobody asked me this much.

“You… all eat hay usually?”

Dash looked back at me now, a short smile on her face. “Nah. But hay tastes absolutely awesome. You’re missing out!”

"I'll take ya word for it," I said, chuckling. She did too. Our giggles bounced around us for a bit. Then there was nothing. Just a scream that reminded me of what we had to do.

“Dash, are ya… ready to go?”

At first, there was no reply. It was like my question fell on deaf ears. I was about to open my mouth to say it again, but she butted in with a stern, “No.”

“No?”

She sighed and walked over to me once again. She held out her good hoof. “I’m not, but we have to, right?”

“We do…” I said, staring at that hoof of hers.

“Are you ready, Dyson?”

Another pulse surged through me. I winced, but kept myself together, taking her hoof in my hand. “I’m sure. Would not be askin’ if I ain’t,” I replied. Those rays weren’t looking so bright anymore, but it still hurt to look at them.

“Great!” she exclaimed with a smirk. She pulled me up off the ground. I let go of her hoof and dusted myself off. "Enough talking! Let's get going. You and I can get the real deal when we get back to Ponyville!"

With that, she turned, and trotted away fro me. I stood there, frozen, reflecting on her words. I knew what she meant. She was itching to get out of here, and I was too. She promised me a lot when we got back to her hometown. How I was going to count to a million, how I was going to learn what a clinic is, and how I'm going to go out and get some food with her with her friends. It was a lot that she said I was going to do... and yet, it didn't feel like I was being held against my will over it.

Yet again, who am I to choose? Even if she let me choose, I'm a slave. I've always been one. A slave to the land. A slave to my thoughts.

A slave to everyone else but her.

“Sounds good, Dash."

I couldn't help but smile as I followed her into the light.

𝕭𝖑𝖔𝖔𝖉

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Dyson was out in the fields. It was the beginning of another day of harvest, and he had just gotten finished with some minor duties inside the estate. His master had him working with one of the new older negro women, who, surprisingly, looked younger than what he had thought. She introduced herself as Lucinda, and that she was surprised when his master had picked her and her son out at the same time.

“I thought that white man was jokin’ when he said he wanted both of us,” she said as she scrubbed the floor with a towel. “None was buyin’ in bunches like that… especially the ones that knew each other. Yet... he did.”

It made Dyson think how his master did the same for his family. His sister, his mother, his father; all of them were bought at the same time by the one he calls master. Why? What did he see in them? It still struck Dyson as odd, since his master talked like them, walked like them, even thought like them at times. He couldn’t do anything about it though, couldn’t even voice his thoughts to his master. He didn’t have a choice.

But they did.

Which made his mind drift to her son. His name was Leo. Dyson was standing next to him now, although if someone came by, they might not see the boy. Dyson dwarfed Leo by far.

Leo was quiet. He hadn’t said much to Dyson since he arrived. A simple hello was all he muttered, before getting down to work, hands gripping the nearest corn stalk and slicing the bottom with his small scythe.

Maybe Dyson could change that.

“Hey, Leo!”

That got the boy’s attention, his head turning back towards Dyson. “How do ya know my name?”

Dyson sighed and bent down. “Worked with your momma inside the house. She mentioned ya so…”

“She did?” Leo asked. Dyson nodded curtly. “She must be happy I’m here at least.”

“At least?”

Leo sliced another plant with his scythe. “Mama and I got separated from my sister when we got here.”

“At the plantation?” Dyson asked, wide-eyed.

Leo shook his head and moved towards the next plant. “No, when we got to Mississippi.” The corn plant fell as he continued. “I tried to grab her from one of ‘em white folks but he pushed me away. Told me and my ma to know our place.”

Another plant fell. Dyson watched as he hoisted a few of the stalks over his shoulder and placed them in a bundle behind him. “Ya think ya might see her again?”

Leo paused and turned to look at Dyson. His lips had sagged down, and his brows crushed in defeat. “I hope so…” He wiped sweat from his head. “What about you?”

“Just got me, my mother, my father, and my little sister.”

“Your whole family is here?” Leo said, his eyes nearly falling out of its sockets..

Dyson nodded. “Yep. Master bought all of us at the same time!”

The boy’s head hung low at the sound of that. Dyson frowned.

Silence pervaded the area. Dyson had even joined in, having walked back to grab a small scythe of his own to work with Leo for a bit. His master wouldn’t mind.

Besides, Dyson wanted to get to know Leo. Was it because he was new, or was it because Leo looked kinda like himself? Dyson couldn't put his finger on it, but he knew one thing. He needed to get to work before the guards started talking. With a quick step, Dyson fell into line, working a little bit ahead of Leo. “So, what ya think of Master?”

“He different,” Leo replied bluntly.

“How so?”

“He likes jokin’ a lot.”

Dyson tilted his head. “He does?”

Leo gripped the plant’s stem tightly, before he brought his scythe upon it. “Says he tells ‘em when to fire.”

“Yeah…” Dyson murmured. There weren’t that many guards out today, but a couple still could be seen on horseback or holding their muskets.

“How many are there usually?”

Dyson turned around. “Well, there be about eight of ‘em out mostly—”

“Only eight?!” Leo practically shouted. He dropped his scythe to cover his mouth with both of his hands. He earned a glare from one of the guards, which Dyson saw from the corner of his eye.

“Sorry,” Leo said, scrambling to pull himself back together. He picked up his scythe and grabbed a couple more corn. “That’s not a lot for a place this big.”

Dyson sighed. “Master told me somethin’ about ‘em bein’ short around here. Says most called up to go to war.”

“Really?” A soft hum could be heard from Leo. Dyson raised a brow. “Dyson, this is great! We could… you know…”

Dyson knew what he was alluding to. “No, Leo. I can’t.”

“What do ya mean?”

“Master needs m—”

“No he don’t!” Leo growled out. “He don’t need none of us! Dyson, they wouldn’t be able to catch us and—”

“Leo, they’ll shoot you before you even think about leavin'.”

“And what? There’s way more of us than them! We can take ‘em!”

Dyson felt a presence linger over him. One that he knew wasn’t truly there, but the ever-watching eye of a guard from that oak tree down by the road was staring directly at them. He needed to steer this conversation elsewhere, or it’ll only be time that he’d trudge on over and really ask what’s going on.

“Leo that’s not the—”

“Point? Dyson you been here for how long?”

“A few years before the war even started…” Dyson murmured. “But what difference does that make?”

Leo dropped his scythe and picked up some of his bundles he left behind. “A lot! I mean, you’ve been here for so long. Have you ever thought what being free was like?”

“No… I’m fine here.”

Leo stopped walking, dropping the bundles he had to the ground. “W-What?”

Dyson cleared his throat. “Master been nice to me and my family. Although rough in the beginning, Master and I been good to one another.”

While Dyson chipped away further and further down the row, Leo hadn’t. He was frozen there, which worried Dyson. Had he said something wrong? He was just telling Leo the truth. Nothing else to tell but the truth.

It took a couple more stalks for Leo to regain himself. He had just bent down to pick up his bundles when suddenly, a voice called from afar.

“Dyson!”

Dyson’s head popped up from where he was situated. It was that young negro woman from before. “Sable!”

Her head wrap bounced as she carried herself toward the two boys. “Finally found ya!” She paused to control herself, panting all the while. “Massa needs ya!”

“He does?”

She looked up and nodded. “He lookin’ weak. Said he had a slight fever.”

Dyson’s eyes widened. “Where is he?”

“On the back porch.”

Dyson dropped everything and ran towards the estate.

Leo looked on. “Does Dyson really care about him?”

Sable nodded. “He does. Massa important here. There ain’t none like him. He saved us from the others.” She turned to look at Leo’s progress. “You better too. Guards ain’t too nice.”

Leo gulped and looked down at his blunder. He tried to pick them up carefully, but his heart was beating faster than he could grip them. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be. Just keep ya head down and ya do fine,” she said softly, patting him on the back. Leo slowed his pace and picked up the remaining stalks.

Neither of them saw Dyson running into the burning red glare of the sun.

I couldn’t believe that I was doing it again, but I was. Rainbow Dash was on my back, gripping me from behind like her life depended on it, while I took these hands of mine and carried us up this wall. I never had done something like this before, so having gotten this far was a good thing. When I was back in Mississippi, good times were hard to come by. I always worked. Master always had something for me to do. At first, times were tough; Master didn’t let me get off so easily if I made mistakes.

“God damn negro, not listenin’—”

He used to be very… aggressive. Angry. It could be because he felt like he was on top of the world. That I couldn’t be like him, or more. I’m always a slave. I didn’t get a choice to go beyond that. I just obeyed. Yet, he realized who I was, and who I could be. He said it to me after I’d been there for a year.

“Dyson, if you weren’t such a lowly nigger, I wouldn’t mind havin’ you as my son.”

Son. Master hadn’t ever had one of them. No daughters either. Just him and his wife, who we used to call Mother Burr. Don’t know why they couldn’t have one kid at least. Imagine the kid would be much like Mr. Burr, for sure. Sadly, that’s all I could do now. Imagine what could have been. This also reminded me of why Master was so angry.

When his wife was no longer there, Master turned grim, an empty white man who couldn’t accept himself. He, for the first week, couldn’t even get out of bed. He’d have some of the other slaves come in, but they would come out with no order or request, except for them to leave him alone. I’d ask them to give him some food and water for the day, hoping he’d let that be, which he had done, accepting the food even though he didn’t feel all too well.

After that week, I never heard him speak out so aggressively again. He let me run errands in town more. I felt… free for a time, or rather, more free. Something in Master just... changed, and I welcomed it wholeheartedly.

However, even in another world, as I put my hands to the test, his presence lingered. Not sure why—

“Dyson!”

Rainbow shouted into my ears. I had been swinging from one ledge to the next, completely lost in thought. She sounded like she wanted to talk.

“Sorry, Dash. Ya need somethin’?”

She growled, and even whinnied a bit. “Not really, just thought you went deaf for a second.”

“Deaf?” my voice raised a bit at that one. “Why ya sayin’ that?”

“I was trying to ask you something and you just… didn’t hear me,” she said, breathing softly near my ear. “Is there something bugging you?”

I tried to say something, but my lips were as cracked as the wall. I tried to dampen them, my tongue reaching out to lick my lips, but even my tongue felt withered. I still pushed what I needed to say out there though, “To be honest, yes.”

“You don’t have to tell me, I und—wait, really?”

I hummed to myself. “Yep. Got lots on my mind.”

“About what?” she asked. I could feel her head resting just below my shoulder blade.

“What it was like back in Mississippi.”

A gentle lull hung over us, as I swung ourselves up to the next ledge. Did I get her all mad again? Was she upset I was thinking of that place, a world that would be fine with making me a slave? I couldn’t turn my head around to get a glimpse of what she looked like. I bet she looked like she was frowning, ears laying back against her head. Yet, she would still raise a brow at my words. She a curious one. Curious about my past. That’s what she seemed interested in for the past couple of days.

A neigh confirmed my thoughts. A bit aggressive, like she just forced a blow out of her nostrils. What was she thinking about?

“Dyson?”

“Y-yeah?”

I felt my face heat up. I stuttered. Hadn’t done that since Master had tried to punish me for talking to a lady in town long ago.

“What was it like?”

I paused, my hand nearly reaching towards the next little rock jutting from the wall. “What was what like?”

“Mississippi. Being a... ‘slave’. Your... ‘master’.”

I took a deep breath and took a lunge for the next rock. It gripped into my palm so effortlessly, yet I could not feel my hand at all. It just felt like powder, with bits of smaller grey rocks mixed in. I kept us there, my feet gripping around those little jutted pieces, while I gathered my thoughts.

“It was an interesting place,” I began. “People there were… different. Master wasn’t my first. Had another that was way worse.”

“W-Worse?”

Her voice cracked when she said that. Made me think of the words I needed to say. Didn’t want her worrying too much about me. “Yep. He hated my father. Made sure to not give much room to breathe, so to speak.”

I swallowed, my saliva flooding my throat. It was hard to recall this memory. My head had been good to me so far through this climb, but even it sent surges of pain down my spine. “P-Pa got a lot of l-lashes. Ma had to keep an eye o-on him and—”

“Dyson…” The pony behind me cooed softly in my ear. “Please, don’t go any further.”

“Is it uncomfortable for ya?” I asked.

“Kinda… I didn’t know your kind was as bad as Sombra…”

Her mumbles trailed off, as I willed myself up to the next ledge. Dash didn’t seem like the type to just let things go, but I knew I wasn’t in the right state of mind to be saying all of this. Still, I had to do it. She had to know.

“Not all of them were that bad, y’know.”

“They… weren’t?”

I tilted my head. “In Mississippi, there were free people, and then there were people like me. We just so happened to be different than them.”

I heard Dash sigh behind me, the air that escaped her nostrils tickled the hairs underneath my ear. “Doesn’t sound cool at all to me. I couldn’t imagine being singled out like that.”

“Are other ponies different colors?”

“Yeah!” Dash excitedly replied. “You remember Twilight? She’s purple and has a huge horn and wings!”

I swung to the next ledge. “Really?”

“Uh-huh!” She sounded like my sister when she wanted to ask for some of my bread. “Totally purple! And Applejack? She’s an apple farmer, and she’s orange!”

“Orange fur?”

“Yeah! And then Fluttershy. She’s my best friend and she’s…”

I started to ignore her as he talked about her friends. It reminded me of my mother, who tried to rant about our previous owner in the mucky shed we slept in. It got old, much like hearing her ramble about her friends’ multicolored fur. No use when I needed to make some progress, then we could talk about it.

While Rainbow rambled on, I spotted a ledge above us that was wider than the rest, but the path to it was very confusing. I had to swing my way to the left and then follow the rocks in an outward fashion to get to it. Maybe then we could rest for a bit before continuing on u—ergh!

“Dyson, are you alright?”

Another bit of pain surged through me. “Don’t speak to anyone about this, Dyson. If you do, I’ll have to—”

I shook my head, frantically looking around for the sound of that voice. It was him, wasn’t it? Was he here? Mr. Stockton?

The woman in the room screamed in pain as another flick of the whip cracked against her sk—

“Dyson?”

A nudge from a hoof of my passenger sent me back to where I was. I blinked away the images of back then. What was happening to me?

“I…”

“Let’s get up there, Dyson, okay? We can rest up on that ledge for the night.”

I look up to the ledge she was talking about. The same one with the rocks that jutted in the opposite direction.

All I had to do was lift us up there.

I reached out and—

She looked at me, begging for me to do something, but I knew I couldn’t do anything. I just kept my mouth shut, blankly staring as the shadow of the whip which flicked back behind the man. Why was he like that?

—nearly slipped, but I regained control, my hand gripping onto the rock once again.

Rainbow Dash had yelped when I almost missed my mark. She wasn’t too pleased about it either, shouting my name and thensome.

“Don’t scare me like that!”

Why did I always do something like this? Making mistakes is for a slave that don’t belong here. I shook my head. I needed to get these thoughts out of my head. I needed to focus. I needed to breathe. For myself. For Dash.

I sucked in a dry pocket of air. It felt terrible in my lungs, bearing a fire that set my body aflame. However, I had to keep on breathing it in. I would be fine afterwards. I’d be free from this torture. I’d be free from everything here, for now.

“Keep going, Dyson! We’re almost there!”

“Now get going, you’re burnin’ daylight.”

I reached for the first one. My right arm extended out in full.

It didn’t take much effort. I had a good grip on her, and the energy I had behind that made me swing for the next.

“Do you want to meet him again?”

I grimaced and shut my eyes. I don’t know why, but these thoughts of mine were hurting my head. Why now? I was so close to getting out of here and my body was failing me. Why? “Why can’t you help me? Can’t you see what he’s doing to me?!”

I nearly missed that rock too, but I used what little weight I had on my feet to get a second shot at it. Got her with a vice grip.

My heart was racing. One more and we’ll be able to rest for a while.

“Just one more!”

“Wait here, Dyson, while I go get you the letter for your Master.”

The air that rushed through me sent my body for one final jump.

And then…

The sound of a musket firing behind me. A body lurching back. A boy just like me. I fell to the grou—

Suddenly, the world fell to a blur. My legs gave out. My head hit me full force, and everything just looked different.

“DYSON!!”

She was still latched on to me, but not like I remembered it. She was above me now, and I was looking far down below. Air rushed between my arms and legs. I felt as if I was weightless, and all I could see was how the world looked from this far up, and how fast it was coming so close to us.

Wait, close to us?

My eyes widened. I could hear Dash frantically flapping her good wing, trying to angle us somewhere else, but I couldn’t see too well, everything was a blurry mess of grey. All I could do was be a passenger who was hopelessly hopeful that maybe this wasn’t the end.

But as my body arched back, I felt the pain wash over me, probably like Leo did, tasting the world that some slaves said was between life and death.

Break 2

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I was… warm. I didn’t know dying would make me feel warm, but I was. I had my eyes shut though, didn’t want to accept that I was gone. Yet, I knew my time of suffering was ending, and I could finally sit at the right hand with the Father. That’s what they taught me, anyway, them folks at the other plantation.

Yet, I hadn’t heard of angels or any of the stuff I heard about them saying there was. All I heard was just noise. It wasn’t loud noise, just… noise. So, knowing I had nothing more to lose, I opened my eyes.

I was not expecting anything that I saw. I was in a room. There were no windows, and there wasn’t even a door. It was just four walls around me. I was sitting on a wooden chair at a rickety old looking table, and a tall white candle burned eagerly a small flame.

And then my eyes caught her. She was beautiful, if I ever could call someone that. She had skin darker than the soot from a fireplace, and eyes that were as blue as water Master drank. She had long, black hair that was straight as can be. She had a black dress on, and a dark purple crown resting on her head.

Didn’t know God looked like that.

“I am not who you think I am, Dyson.”

My eyes widened as her words carried a new weight on my chest. She was not God?! “Then how do ya know my name?”

She gave me a warm smile. “I am the one who dreams. I see what you see. Know how you are. Know of your kind. I would like to know you, but I am barred from seeing it. I can seek more, if you'd allow me.”

"Allow ya?”

She nodded. Her eyes looked softly into mine. “Do you allow me to see more of you?”

I couldn’t feel myself breathe, but if I could, I would. My heart would be racing, and yet, it did not feel like it was there. I felt nothing, but a whole lot of something. Just a dull bit of pressure right where those words hit me before.

Since I had no choice, I nodded slowly. “Yes, ma’am.”

That earned me a glare from her. “Do not feel like you must agree. I… shan’t indulge further if that is what—”

“N-No, ma’am. I… accept,” I stuttered out. “You know more of somethin’ that I don't...”

As I said those words, the room began to change. There was still no door or window, yet it felt like one was open, as a cold gust of air overcame the room. It nearly had blown the candle’s flame out, but it stayed still, only slightly affected by the wind. I could feel it’s chilling presence as it had passed too, the air sending a freezing sensation down my spine. However, as quick as the wind came, so did it leave.

During that sudden change, I had not once seen the woman’s face. Even now, I couldn’t read her, and I could understand why. The candlelight was not picking up her face. I blamed the wind for this, but the woman was also leaning back in her chair. Was she doing that on purpose? What was this woman thinking? More importantly, who was she?

“No, I am not doing this on purpose. I only... wish to be comfortable with you. And as for what I am thinking, and who I am, I... you will learn soon.”

Her voice was soft, yet so intense. I couldn’t help but lean in more. I was numb to it all, but I wasn’t numb to her words. “Then who are you?”

She leaned forward, her face being lit up by the candle. She gave me a toothy grin. “I told you. I am but a dreamer.”

“A dreamer?”

“Yes, one oversees others who sleep.”

I was sleeping? “Ya mean I’m alive?”

“Yes, Dyson. You are.”

It was like I was falling again, except faster. “H-How?”

“That… I am not sure. You are alive though, otherwise I would not be allowed here.” She must’ve seen how my face looked and held back a laugh with her hand. “I will… elaborate on that, then. I have the ability to oversee other’s dreams. How that is is of my own accord: I must have a connection with the other user’s magic with this world.”

“Magic?”

“Yes, magic is part of this world that you are now in. I know you are not of our kind—”

Of our kind… I gasped. “So are you one of those ponies too?”

She nodded. “I am.”

“Then why are you—"

“—one of your kind?” she interrupted. I bobbed my head rapidly in reply. She giggled. “I must be of your kind so you may not fear me. I… had found out about you from observing Rainbow Dash’s mind, and decided to extend my reach to you, therefore I must become like you to assure you I am not a threat. However, I found something alarming about you.”

I tilted my head. “What is that?”

She took a deep breath and said, “Your mind is in constant turmoil.”

“Turmoil?”

She leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table. “Yes. For years, every single person, place, or thing that you encountered... you have reacted to them as if you were numb to them all. It's as if throughout your life, you... you had one thing in mind. Yet now, in our world, your mind is free to roam, and everything has hit you all at once." The woman paused, cleared her throat, and looked at me with a slight tilt of her head. "It has made you—" She pointed a finger at me and smirked. "—very hard to connect with.”

I found myself wanting to know more, but she was right, my mind was all over the place. I was so… anxious, by everything, that nothing was making sense, but I hadn't thought I had this happen to me for years. And I was numb to it all? That I had a one-tracked mind? What did she mean? "What do ya mean this has happened for years?"

"If I explained it to you, you would only just be hearing my words, not discovering the truth. This is part of your quest. Something that I mustn't indulge further. One must learn by doing, yes?"

I felt a beat in my chest, one that pulsed throughout me. And then, the dull pressure returned. "That's what my momma told me."

The woman laughed. "My mother has said that as well. You know, maybe you and I are not so dissimilar after all."

I smirked and fired back, "And I'm glad that ya ain't like the horses back home. From how Dash reacted, it sounded like somethin' terrible!"

If the woman could have laughed harder, than she did, her arms clenched at her stomach. She kept laughing for a while, until she ran out of breath. She breathed deeply and looked over at me with a toothy grin. "M-My stars… I had not laughed that hard in a millennia. Horses are a bit... complicated. They have such long faces and very crass ways of living, yet, there are so few where we are, so few that they are seen as a myth now." She sighed and put her hands under her chin. She beamed over at me. "You are a pleasure to talk to. I am much more eager for your arrival. And from what I saw in her dreams, Rainbow Dash is too.”

“She is?”

She smiled. “Of course. However, I mustn't tell you the details. Besides, I refuse to interact with her dreams at the moment. I can only ease the tension she feels. If I did anything more, she'd be begging me to tell her friends to save you both, and although I want you both back as soon as possible, I feel that something needs to be learned here."

"Learned here?" I asked. What did she mean?

She sighed. "I know of your path. Of your nature. Of you." She leaned back in her chair once again, submerging her form in the darkness of the room. "This shall change, since Rainbow Dash will guide you. Therefore, I must not interfere.”

That meant Rainbow Dash was alive too, but she… was my guide? This woman—pony refuses to interact with Rainbow Dash’s dreams? What did all of this mean?

“I can interact with her dreams, Dyson, but I shan’t. It’s my choice. I have already earned my freedom. You, on the other hoof, haven’t.”

“You can hear my thoughts?”

“Yes, because you allowed me so, remember?”

I blinked. I remembered how she looked. She had done… something, and that something must’ve made her hear my thoughts.

“Exactly—”

“Ma’am, pardon me for sayin’ this…”

She saw my gaze and smiled. “You are pardoned.”

“That’s very… awesome.”

The woman giggled at my choice of words, the pressure leaving my chest as she laughed. “I’m glad that you are learning from our dear friend. She… has a way with her words that I have struggled to possess.”

“Yes, Rainbow Dash does... have a way with words, ma’am.”

“Glad you see that too.” Her smile faded away. “You understand what I am telling you, though, correct?”

I nodded. “Yes, ma’am. You… are tellin’ me that I need to—” I felt the pressure linger in my chest once again. “Let go.”

“Yes, what ails you now is what ailed you then. You had been asked before about freedom, yet you felt free already, didn’t you?”

Her soft voice made me shiver in my chair. “I… thought that before. But ever since Master changed after Mother Burr passed, I—”

“You felt as if it were your duty to stand by him?” The woman hummed softly. “I see. Trauma and fear willed you forth, did they not?”

She knew the answer, but she wanted me to say it. All those dry grains… that dry air… it was lodged in me again. “I… I did look at Master that way. B-But he helped me and my family survive. No other one had done that for me and—”

“Yet he hurt them too, did he not?”

“Yes but—”

I felt the room quake as she stood, her hands thrusting onto the table. “Then it should be obvious to you. Tell me, do you know what I am saying to you?”

I fell silent. My body was stuck in place. I could control my gaze, though, and I knew I had no right to look at her. Not one bit.

She sighed. “I see. Your quest will tell you this, I am sure.”

The room stopped shaking. I saw her out of the corner of my eye scooting the chair back. She was probably sitting back down in her chair. The only thing that stayed the same… was the pressure in my chest.

“I… don’t know what to say ma’am,” I said, voice dry as can be.

“Dyson, you don’t need to say much more. All I need from you is one thing, and then I will leave you to your quest.”

I looked up to her. “And what is that?”

She stared into my eyes. “Promise me you’ll complete it.”

“Promise ya?” I asked. “How do I promise ya that?”

She shook her head and told me my answer. “You reap what you sow, I suppose. I will keep watch over your dreams if you can keep Rainbow Dash and yourself in one piece.”

I felt my senses start to come to me. My legs, my arms, my heart; the numbness was gone. For the first time, I felt great. I felt ready. I felt…

“I will do my best, ma’am.”

“Then I will see you when you complete your quest, Dyson. Farewell.”

Then the candle fizzled out and the room was plunged into darkness.

Mercy

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It had been a long while since Mr. Burr had felt this way. Weakness was not something he would want to show, and this fever had put him out there for all of his slaves to see. Fortunately for Mr. Burr, he now resided in his bed, secluded by the four, white, cracking walls around him. The discoloration in some spots turned what was once pristine white into a light grey. A brown chair stood battle-scarred in the corner. Next to it, a window sill that peered out into the world beyond. And then a candle, in case Mr. Burr decided to read, much like his wife had done. Mr. Burr took a shaky breath.

It was hot in the room. It wasn’t because of the heat outside. No, Mr. Burr was covered in the bed sheets. It was all Dyson’s idea to hide Mr. Burr in his own room, away from the rest of the slave population. “You’ll be comfortable, Master,” Dyson had said to him. Comfortable mattress, yes, but not in temperature.

He unfolded the sheets back a bit, letting his body breathe. He was tempted to try and squirm out of bed to crack open the window, however, his legs reminded him of how this fever took over. His legs were hard to move. It felt like trudging through murky waters, except there wasn’t any water like that in his estate. How a simple fever could make him this weak was beyond Mr. Burr’s comprehension. All he knew was that he was sick, most likely with something that his wife got.

Mr. Burr shook his head. There was no need to be thinking like that. He’ll pull through, he had to. These slaves got nowhere else to turn to. They should know that. Yet…

Outside, the sky began to fade away, the red sun falling further and further out of view. Soon, he’d have to have one of his slaves come in and light the candle by his bedside, or maybe grab that lantern outside in the shed and put her next to him. That would make him want to read the Ripley Advertiser too and—

Mr. Burr didn’t want to admit to his own issues. He felt like his mind was cursing him. Every little waking moment he had now reminded him of every little waking moment he had with his wife, and that he wouldn’t get her back and—

“Promise me you’ll take care of ‘em, my love.”

He sat under the covers, wondering if he’d upheld those words that tortured him.

Two days had passed since Mr. Burr had been under the care of Dyson, who simply said a couple days of rest would help him. Unfortunately, that remedy was a very slow cure. His body felt worse despite the rest he had gotten, and at this point, he did not feel hungry, just incredibly thirsty. He had asked Dyson before for water, but Dyson had heard from one of the other slaves that giving Mr. Burr any sort of water or food would increase the likelihood of death. So, when Dyson had advised him against drinking or eating anything, he had followed through.

Mr. Burr licked his own lips. There was very little saliva left on that palette of his. The rest of his body felt limp, and he didn’t feel like getting up out of his bed anymore, even if the sheets made him feel like a furnace at the blacksmith. Unfortunately, what little sweat Mr. Burr had on his face wasn’t going to fix his tongue nor his hunger. Frustratedly, Mr. Burr let out a long sigh, and attempted to pull the sheets back from his body.

That was, until Dyson made an entrance.

The door flew open, slamming against the door jam. Suddenly, both Dyson and Sable flooded into the room, clambering to his bedside.

“Master, are you okay?”

“No…” Mr. Burr muttered, his voice strained. He shifted under his sheets. “Too warm in here, and I’m feelin’ like I got run over by a runaway stagecoach.”

The two slaves looked back at each other. Mr. Burr raised a brow at the two.

“Is this how I’m supposed to feel?”

Sable looked downtrodden, her head hung low. She twiddled her thumbs. “Not, exactly…”

Mr. Burr hummed to himself. “What other options do I have?”

Dyson piped up first, “How about we get ya a bit of food and—”

“Massa don’t need to eat none,” Sable stated rather sternly, her eyes glaring daggers at Dyson. She turned to Mr. Burr once again and smiled. “Massa how’d ya feel about bloodlet—”

“No way in hell I’d do that! Anything involving blood would be what that damn physick would say, and I'm not wanting to visit him anytime soon.”

The sudden burst of energy shocked the two slaves, their eyes widened at his words. “Mr. Morris wouldn’t do that, Massa!”

Sable’s words echoed in Mr. Burr’s ears. He grimaced as he remembered what Mr. Owens told him about those ‘insane medical contraptions’ Mr. Morris had in his office. “I wouldn’t put it past him, Sable. He’s one of them.”

Dyson rubbed the end of his chin with his hand. “Then if Master ain’t too comfortable on Mr. Morris, what ya think we could do?”

Mr. Burr knew that question wasn’t for him. It was for Sable, who just tilted her head in response. Silence settled in, only the chiming of a pendulum clock in the living room was to be heard.

Then, Sable gave Mr. Burr a short smile and said, “Massa, have ya gone to Church?”

“No,” he replied, shaking his head. “Been stuck here for the past couple days, and last week the church was closed for… ‘repairs’.”

“Then ya at least prayed, haven’t ya?”

Mr. Burr raised a brow at her. “Yes, I have, Sable. Lord’s prayer, every single day I wake up. Is this going somewhere?”

Sable nodded. “They say if ya pray to God, then he help ya get better…” Her eyebrow twitched. “I done what I can, Massa. It in God’s hands now.”

“What about—”

“Dyson!” Sable exclaimed. “Feedin’ him ain’t going to do none—”

“How do ya know that, Sable?” Dyson tilted his head at her, his eyebrows furrowing. “We got no other options! And if none of them other ones ain’t workin’, then we need to give this one a try!”

Mr. Burr smiled as the two argued about him. They were like siblings: a son and a daughter, both arguing about what they should do to help their father. Yet, as Sable gave a loud huff through her nostrils, he knew who they were again. Not his children. They were his slaves. Hell, those two weren’t even siblings. How could he think of them like that?

“We could just put a cold towel on his head.”

“Why ya say that, Sable?”

“Massa said he was hot, right?”

“Very,” Dyson replied, scratching his head. “Why a cold towel—oh, oh.”

Sable smirked and nudged Dyson on the shoulder. “Now ya be usin’ your head, Dyson.”

Mr. Burr tried to stifle a laugh, but due to his dry throat, his laugh turned into a coughing frenzy. The two slaves turned their attention to him, but he waved them off. “Just dry is all. Can’t even laugh when feeling like this.”

Sable sighed. “Well, maybe we should give him a bit of water and—”

“Wait, are ya sayin’ what I think you’re sayin’?”

Upon hearing those words, Mr. Burr saw Sable’s eyes roll hard. He was worried that those eyes of hers would fall right out of her head. Yet, they did not. They just glared at the two of them as she walked towards the door. “Maybe ya might be a bit right, but I’ll believe it when I see it.” She gripped on the doorknob and turned it slightly to the right. “Let Massa rest for tonight. I’ll get him some of that water, while ya get him that candle lit.”

Dyson raised a brow. “Why we needin’ to light that candle?”

Sable turned back around and peeked her head back in the room. “Cuz he been eyin’ it like he got somethin’ with it!”

Mr. Burr suddenly felt his face burst into flames, his cheeks warmer than even the fever that plagued him. He wanted to hide under the covers, but he did not want to show his slaves any sort of weakness. He needed to be strong. He needed to not look at the candle and—Mr. Burr looked at the candle.

Dyson chuckled. “Maybe you’re right too, Sable. Master lookin’ at it right now!”

“Neither of you will utter a word to the others about this,” Mr. Burr growled, glaring at the two in his midst.

Even though they knew of what ailed their slave master, Dyson and Sable stood up straight, or at least Dyson did. Sable was nearly out the door, still peeking in to see what was happening. She did though, step in to show that she did care, despite how she spoke. “Sorry, Master. We won’t tell a soul,” Dyson said, while Sable just gave a very curt nod.

“Good,” Mr. Burr said. “Oh, and while you’re at it Dyson, can you fetch me my newspaper for the day?”

Dyson gave Mr. Burr a grin. “That I can, Master.”

With that, the two slaves left their owner in his lonesome, the door slowly creaking shut in their wake.

The last thing I remembered was sitting in a room with a woman who claimed she was a dreamer. She said she supervised everyone else’s dreams. She also told me how she was not like me, and how she was like Rainbow Dash but not like her as well. She was able to see me, and hear what I was thinking. It was… way too much, yet I was able to get what I needed out there, while… well, wrapping my mind around this entire quest she told me about.

However, I was not there now. I was on the ground, sort of, washed up on a little shore-like area. I felt like I got run over by one of them horse drawn carriages. Every single part of my body was aching, and as I tried to pick myself up off the ground, I felt every muscle scream in agony. I groaned in response, trying to stretch what pain that wore me down, but my leg was surely not going to cooperate. Guess I had something wrong with my leg. However, my body aching was the least of my worries.

I realized that this place was dark, and I couldn’t see a thing. Only a light from across the way, where a pool of water lay. Since I saw no other light like it near me, I had to guess that’s where we fell down from, especially since a small stream of water filtered in from that beam of light. I took a look at the shore and bent down, quickly taking a scoop of water in my hand and gulping it down. Thinking it was okay to drink, I took a couple more handfuls before I wiped my hand off.

I was pretty dry to the bone, well, except for my right arm. My arm was still soaked from probably being in it while I was barely on shore. That view turned for the worst though, as I realized there was barely anything left of my clothes to salvage. Shirt was all torn to pieces, while what remained was soaked and dirty. My pants were one of the few things to survive, luckily, as there were only a few small tears. However, where those tears were, so were a few instances of blood.

I winced at the sight of it. The blood looked like it had dried up, but it still didn’t look that good. I’m lucky that nothing else happened and that Rainbow Dash was—wait where was she?

“D-Dash?” I sputtered, a dry cough making me nearly keel over.

I quickly hobbled along the little shoreline that was here, only to find that she was here. It took me a bit of balance, but I found her just a little ways down the line. That did soothe my mind a bit, but her condition did make my heart race. That strained wing of hers? Bit more bent now. And that bad hoof? There was a bit more blood on it than before. I didn’t want to say it was all hers though, It could be from my body, knowing how much the fall tore me up. But maybe it wasn’t—all I knew was that we must’ve fallen into some other stuff on the way down, or maybe landing in this big water-filled cave did have a huge impact on us.

That wasn’t the worst thing I saw, though. Even though she was much more damaged than before, I nearly fell over when I saw her eyes weren’t open. She was breathing, though, which made me fall to my knees, both thanking whoever watched over us that she was alive, while also checking her over for any other injuries. It didn’t appear like there was much else, only minor scratches across her frame. I sighed a sigh of relief, and held her close. That woman said she was my guide, and if I had already broken my promise…

“You reap what you sow.”

I frowned, watching as her chest heaved in and out. It was like she was desperately trying to breathe, something that made me act quicker than I thought. I had pulled her further from the shoreline, up higher on this landmass in the cave. I tried to wake her up, but her body wasn’t having it. Her muzzle was all scrunched up, and her eyelids were twitching. Was she… dreaming?

A whimper was what I was awarded for that thought. She definitely was dreaming. Was she dreaming of us falling again? Was she wondering if she was dead? Or was that woman telling her something too? I didn’t want to know for sure, I just wanted her to wake up.

I just wanted her to wake up.

My eyes widened. I grabbed a hold of her and started shaking her.

“Dash, wake up!”

She began whimpering more. I could’ve sworn she said my name too—

“Dash! Dash!”

My shaking must’ve done something. Her eyes flicked wide open and she let out this shrill yelp that sounded like a mouse getting stomped on. Then, she turned to me, blinking. “Is that you, Dyson?”

“Yes, Dash!” I practically shouted, my voice echoing in the cave. “We’re alive!”

I watched as she let out a dry, cheery giggle, before coughing like I did too. She pointed at her throat. “T-Throat’s dry, eh heh.”

I gave her a short smile. “Mine was too.” I looked over at the water next to us. “You could drink from here, y’know?”

Dash looked over at it, eyes glazed. “I don’t know about that, Dyson. It… looks kinda dirty.”

“What choice do we have?” I asked her.

She shook her head. “Not much…” She let out a coarse laugh. “Sorry, k-kinda out of it at the moment. That fall got me thinking… less straight than n-normal!”

Slowly, I watched her get up. I held her close, just to make sure she didn’t fall over and bend that wing of hers even more.

“Thanks, Dyson,” she breathed. Her eyes fluttered shut and she gave me a weak nuzzle. “Tell me when I n-need... to b-bend over.”

I raised a brow at that. “Why? Can’t ya see?”

Her eyes, those pink orbs, they looked like they were swimming in her head. “I… c-can see, just not well. Head’s hurting… a lot.”

“Then I’ll guide ya, Dash,” I said, trying to keep myself steady. I brought my hands gently to her chest, and interlocked them together. Then, I slowly leaned forward. “Lean into ‘em.”

She did, slowly, even craning her neck. Eventually, her mouth found water, lapping at it like a dog on a hot summer’s day. I couldn’t help but smile. “Taste good?”

“Y-Yep!” Dash said, although it sounded like she was gargling some of the water. She tapped me on my chest with one of her hind hooves, signalling for me to pull up. So I did, pulling her away from the water.

I looped one of my arms around her body. She fell into me as a result. She let out a laugh. “I feel drowsy…”

“Don’t sleep none, Dash. Not goin’ help that headache of yours.”

She sighed. “You’re right…” She gently brought her head close. “What do… you think we should do, then?”

I frowned. “I don’t know, Dash. We need to find a way out of this here cave, but I can barely even see ya!”

I watched as Rainbow Dash blinked rapidly. She took it in the surroundings and smirked. “Y-You mean you c-can't see, Dyson?”

“Wait, you can see?”

“Yep!” she began, chuckling. “It’s a bit… b-blurry, though but if you keep holding me up, I-I can get us through here!”

I shook my head. I couldn’t believe that she could see with her being that weak. Guess that’s what horses can see, even though, well, they could easily get scared by a mouse scurrying across their pen. But she wasn’t exactly a horse. Like one, surely, but not all the way. She wouldn't be afraid of a mouse.

It wasn’t important anyway. My mind’s like a mouse too, going all over the place. I pulled Dash back towards me. “I’ll do my best.”

She gave me a weak smile. “Then let’s find a way off this little shore!”

We hobbled along the edge of this thing. There didn’t seem much of a way up to the higher portion of this mass, but as we tried to walk, I felt as if we were going up. It was nice to feel a bit of progress in each step and—oof!

I nearly broke my foot as I tripped over something. Dash didn’t see it either, I guess, yelping as she fell into me. “What we just trip over?”

I turned around and picked up the offending piece of… “Wood?”

She gasped. “Why’s there wood down here?”

I looked back behind us, back at that hole that had the light in it. It must’ve drifted over like those branches I saw in the water. But… why?

“I think that some wind brought this down here,” I said to her. “That light across the water is where we fell in, so it must’ve drifted onto this here shore.”

I could see part of her head bobbing in the dark. “P-Probably, which means we could make ourselves some torches, too.”

Torches. I remembered what those were. They weren’t with the greatest of memories, but for now, I did not need to hear or see those.

“You see any more of them, Dash?”

And so the hunt for wood began. We kept on searching near the shore. Soon, we collected a nice hefty bunch in my hands. She brought herself close, making sure to match my pace. We walked in and around this place, climbing further and further up. Eventually, we saw another light, one that barely lit up where we stood. We had gotten to a flat part of this place, a grey piece of clearing that looked like a great place to lay down.

Dash must’ve read my mind, she collapsed to the ground in a heap of feathers and pain. “That’s enough moving for right now.” She looked over to me. “You think you could keep watch over me while I sle—”

“Dash, ya can’t sleep, remember?”

She whined, letting out a harsh blow through her muzzle. “B-But!”

I walked over to her and smiled. “No excuses, ma’am!”

“I t-thought I told you... not to call me, m-ma’am,” she growled through seething teeth.

A rather familiar feeling emerged from me, one that I had felt when Master was sick, or when I couldn’t help myself and let my mouth run off at Leo. I guess I had never truly recognized what it was. A sense of… self? I couldn’t wrap my head around it, I knew who I was after all. Had always been a slave. Yet, here I was, letting the shiver race down my spine. I slowly pointed a finger at her, and smirked. “If you thinkin’ of sleepin’, then I get to call ya that… ma’am.”

At first, that shiver turned into a queasy feeling that stayed in my stomach. Yet, it stopped when I saw Dash’s reaction.

“Okay, okay!” she exclaimed. She shoved her forehooves at me, as if to push me away. “Then you better start trying to get that torch ready. Just, talk to me while you do it, okay?”

“Sure, Dash,” I replied. Grabbing a couple large chunks of them, I began to grind them together like I saw Master do that one time.

Rainbow Dash made sure to maintain her distance while I did this. She probably didn’t want to get any wood or ash in her eyes. But she didn’t stay too far away, either. I could tell that she was watching me intently, about a leg's length from where I was sitting.

I turned my head towards her. “So, what do you want… to talk about?”

“I don’t know,” she began. Still couldn't see her well, even if this light was here, but I could hear her playing with the grey grains of this place too. “There’s... a-a lot that we could talk about…”

“Like what?” I felt my words just tumble out of my mouth.

I heard her pause. She let out a frustrated sigh, and rested her head on her forehooves. “Anything else but this place.”

Ghastly Gorge was all I’ve gotten to see of this place Dash lived in. I didn’t even know what to ask, but I knew she had been asking way too many questions about me, so I should be asking her some.

“What’s Equestria like?”

Dash’s ears perked up, and scooted closer to me, allowing me to see her more clearly. “Equestria… is pretty huge. L-Lots of different ponies to meet, and even other creatures.”

“Creatures?” That question got Dash nodding. “Like what?”

The pony bit back her lip, and closed her eyes for a moment. “Let’s see… Griffons, Hippogriffs, Changelings…” Her eyes fluttered partially open. “L-Lots of d-different ones! They all talk just like me.”

“That’s way different than where I’m from,” I replied. She tilted her head. “Only people like me can talk.”

“Really?!” she exclaimed, only to hold her head tightly with a forehoof. “Agh, can’t really get too excited, m-my head is killing me.”

“Wish I could help ya with that…” I frowned, slowing my pace with these pieces of wood. Why they wouldn’t spark was beyond me. They weren’t wet.

“Talking helps a bit,” Dash said dryly. She lifted her head for a brief moment before plopping it right back down on her hooves. “W-Was that why you said you were surprised a… ugh, horse, could talk?”

“Ya,” I said, nodding. “They… ain’t much of talkers. All they did was whine and growl at us, except for Master’s horse. He liked me a lot.”

A piece of bark fell off the side of one of the chunks, but still no spark. How much longer did I need to do this for?

I groaned, suddenly speeding up my pace. I was tempted to grind these down at this point.

Dash took notice of the sudden change and sighed. “I’m glad you don’t think of me as a horse anymore.”

I turned to look at her, and tilted my head. “Well, I thought of ya like that cuz that’s all I knew. Never thought I’d get run over by a flyin’ pony.”

She smirked. “Yeah, and horses around here are far and few between. They’re… really creepy.”

“Really?”

“Their faces are so long…”

I swore I saw Dash shiver when she said that, and it’s kinda funny to think that they see horses as creepy. They were just a smaller version of them, after all.

I chuckled. “Don’t worry. I’ll defend you against ‘em.”

She rolled her eyes at that. “You’re so weird, Dyson.”

“Not as weird as you, Dash.”

With that, silence filled the room for a while, except for me grinding away at these chunks of wood. I kept my arms steady and ready, hoping to see just a little flame, but nothing happened.

I sighed, throwing my arms in the air. “This no use! This wood don’t want'a catch fire!”

“Don’t give up just because you don’t see anything,” Dash declared, her smile much stronger than before. “The faster we are, the quicker we’re out of here! Then, I could show you how awesome Equestria is!”

“I’ll take ya on that offer, Dash,” I said. I gave her a smirk. “Ya seem like you’re feelin’ better already.”

“Like I said, talking h-helps!” her voice cracked a bit. “I have to get better. I... need to get us out of here!”

For some reason, I felt my heart twinge at that. It wasn’t her duty to take this all on her own. I promised that woman after all. I knew Dash was supposed to be my guide, but she didn’t need to carry this on her own. We were going to get out of this here hole and we were going to go see this world of hers. And… I was going to...

Be free.

That woman wanted me to say this to her, yet I couldn't. I thought I knew what felt like being free, but I didn't, that's what she told me. It scared me... yet, it somehow motivated me more than ever.

I reached out and pulled her close. “No, we have to get out of here. We’ll do this together, okay?”

Rainbow Dash looked at me like I had something on my face. Was she not expecting that? Didn’t she say before that we had to work together to get out of here? But as her smile widened and her head nudged into my side, I think she must’ve forgotten. It didn’t matter. I wasn’t going to let this gorge beat me, beat us. Even if my arms felt like they were going to fall off, I’d keep on going until this torch was lit. For Dash. For me.

For freedom.

The Descent

View Online

Mr. Burr stirred underneath his blankets. He was semi-awake, drifting between wanting to get himself out of bed and wanting to sleep for a few more minutes. This sleepiness was caused by his illness, something that has slowly felt less and less wearing over the past few days.

It was all thanks to those two slaves of his...

Mr. Burr couldn’t help but smile. He was happy, something that he hadn’t felt since he had gotten sick. Each day he had felt stronger. He even was able to muster enough strength yesterday to finally go outside, even if it had taken him a minute or two to collect his breath after going down a few steps. It had filled him with a sense of pride. He was getting closer and closer to beating that sickness that had plagued his wife and—

His eyes snapped open. Mr. Burr grimaced, reaching out to save what little sight he had left from the attack that penetrated his window. The sun had nearly blinded him, but using his arm, Mr. Burr shielded himself from the light, while he hid himself under the sheets to take cover from the sun’s shine. The man grunted, holding his head tightly. He really needed to get some curtains to cover the window. Why he hadn’t gotten any made was a mystery to him.

Mr. Burr sighed and scooted away from the window. He then rolled back over, peeked his head out from his covers, and stared at the ceiling. It stared back, nothing but white paint welcoming the plantation owner’s eyes. The clock chimed in the other room, behind closed doors.

“Ugh…” Mr. Burr groaned weakly. “Where is Dyson?”

As if on cue, the man heard a pair of footsteps walking up to his bedroom door. He smirked, knowing who was going to come walking through the old rickety thing.

Suddenly the door flew open, hitting the door jam with a ferocity that Mr. Burr feared could injure anyone within its range.

Dyson stepped in first. “M-Master? Y’awake?”

“Y-Yes, Dyson,” Mr. Burr replied, still holding his head. His brow furrowed. “How’re things goin’?”

Another voice chimed in to answer it, one that drew him closer and closer to proclaiming that God was waiting for judgment day. “Dyson and I are doin’ well, Massa!”

In arrived that woman that was darker than any night sky he could think of. She had been a saint, and an advocate of the devil, if he had any say to the labels. She had done well for Mr. Burr, since she truly cared even though her methods… were a bit unsuccessful (or nearing a physick’s level of insanity). Luckily, Dyson was there to keep Miss Sable in check. The tall negro had kept—Mr. Burr paused, and tilted his head. Dyson's lanky arms and tall figure were misleading. Boy was as sharp as a bayonet. He was stronger than most of the slaves there. He had more sense than some of his guards. How he had gotten a slave like Dyson in his possession made Mr. Burr stay still, frozen, as the two approached his bedside.

“Master?”

Mr. Burr knew that Dyson had called to him, but his mind was too enraptured by these thoughts that ailed him. They told him that he still thought the same before his wife died. These two in front of him? Although he had felt that they were more alike with him, they weren’t of his kind. They were still his possessions, his property, yet, the words felt… vile to even think of. They tasted so dry, even if he hadn’t said the words that plagued his mind. It tempted Mr. Burr, the poor man licking his lips.

Mr. Burr gripped onto the sheets in front of him and shook his head. He gave the two a slight smile. “Sorry… thought I saw something behind you both.” He cleared his throat before he continued, “I’m glad you both are doing well. How’s the harvest?”

Sable nodded very enthusiastically. “Harvest doin’ well, Massa! Got all of ‘em in line out there!” Her face, however, slightly fell, something that nearly made Mr. Burr raise an eyebrow. “Little Leo been bit of a pest though…”

“How so?” Mr. Burr asked.

Dyson rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. “He got mad when a guard tried howlin’ at him from the trees out back.”

Mr. Burr’s right hand gripped the blanket tightly. That was a behavior he had never expected from the new arrival. Leo had seemed very responsive when Mr. Burr had met the negro boy, but since he was incapicated due to this illness of his, he had not seen what the boy had become, something that Sable and Dyson had seen first hand. Mr. Burr frowned and loosened his grip on his sheets. “Is he okay?”

Sable was about to answer when Dyson shoved his arm out in front of her. “Leo’s fine, Master. A few words were said, but I got him away, sir! He restin’ under the old oak tree before he returns to the fields!”

For some reason, Mr. Burr noticed how Sable had reacted to Dyson’s tone. She tilted her head and pursed her lips, before she leaned on the wall beside her. She let out a brief snort, almost like a warning shot that she may eventually strike him down if Dyson interfered again, but that wouldn’t happen, not in front of Mr. Burr. He knew she wouldn’t want to cause a ruckus.

Unless it involved bloodletting. Then she would be fine with that.

“If that’s so…”

“That it is, Master,” Dyson said, nodding. He gave Mr. Burr a nice grin. “Ya feelin’ better now?”

Mr. Burr shared his slave’s excitement. “I am, boy! Feelin’ like I could walk down to town today!”

Sable got off that wall of hers and looped an arm around Dyson. She turned her attention to Mr. Burr, giving him a grin. “Ya really think so, Massa?”

He grinned back devilishly. “I do. You two mind accompanying me?”

The words felt so fluent. Yet the reactions felt coarse. “You want... us to go with ya, Master?”

Mr. Burr knew what Dyson was referring to. The both of them were… well, his slaves. He’s heard Mr. Stockton prattle on about not bringing more than one slave with you at all times, unless they either were chained up or he had a couple guards escorting him. However, with his guards being too busy rattling on with Leo, Mr. Burr wasn’t so sure if he could trust them with keeping their mouths shut.

Besides… he needed to show these two something. If he was to get past this, then maybe, just maybe...

Mr. Burr nodded. “Yes. Who else on this plantation is going to keep me balanced?”

Sable spoke up first, “Well the guards could help you with that—”

“Yes, and I could already hear one of them hootin’ and hollerin’ over seein’ that lady down near the Post.”

Sable shook her head, like she was disappointed. She probably understood what Mr. Burr meant, and Dyson… well, he stared on, frozen, his eyes unmoving. Mr. Burr couldn’t help himself, letting out a laugh. “The look on your face Dyson tells it all.”

That got the boy blinking like he just woke up. “Sorry, Master.”

“Pfft… ain’t nothin’ to be sorry about. That’s why Sable’ll be with ya.” Mr. Burr looked over at the woman, who was twiddling with her thumbs. “Right?”

She jolted a tad, suddenly going from that confident smirk to a mouse squeaking in the corner. “R-Right, Massa. Gotta… keep him in line.”

Dyson glared at her when she said that.

Mr. Burr felt his lips curl up again. “That ya do!” He pushed himself upright, and began to slide off the bed. He landed on two feet with a bit of a wobble. Sable was there to catch him if he fell, but he didn’t need her to, he knew what to say here.

“Thank you, Sable.”

She blinked twice before stuttering out a reply, “Y-You’re welcome, Massa!” She looked at Dyson, who simply shrugged, before looking back at him. “You sure ya both of us goin’ with ya?”

He smiled and put a hand on her shoulder. She flinched at first, but when nothing came, she opened her eyes and listened to his words, “If the past few days were anythin’, then I think ya both would’ve given me a reason or two already not to trust ya.” He let go of her. “Besides, I think if I went with only Dyson, he’d have his head stuck in the clouds.”

Dyson shook his head. “No, Master. I ain’t like that! I was just thinkin'...”

“That’s what they all say,” Mr. Burr replied, smirking. He dusted himself off. “How about ya give me a few minutes to change and we’ll head out?”

The two suddenly looked like deer trying to run as fast as they could. They filed out of the room, saying affirmatives louder than they should’ve. The door, this time, closed softly with a little click.

Mr. Burr sighed and shuffled to his dresser. “Goin’ have to have an earful with those guards before I leave…”

It had been a while, and nothing had changed. I was still trying to get these two chunks of wood to spark. Unfortunately, there had not been a single one. I was getting tired again, my arms and hands aching from angrily grinding the chunks together, but I pressed on. I wasn’t going to be beaten by them.

Rainbow Dash had watched me this entire time. I could feel her breathing over my shoulder. Every so often she’d snort in my ear, probably making sure she wasn’t falling asleep. I turned around to check on her, but I couldn’t really see her face. However, one time, I did. I caught her nodding off, her pink eyes closing shut, but I nudged her a bit with my elbow, getting a yelp in return. I saw those eyes flicker when she woke up.

I frowned. I knew why she was keeping herself up. I told her she wasn’t allowed to because of her wing. She didn’t want to bend it any more than it already was. It… wasn't something I should be thinking about right now. I should be focused on this stupid fire. Yet, I was thinking about how much pain she was in. How her wing looked. How she still had a headache that really—I needed to get this out of my head out so I could focus.

“Hey, Dash?”

She hummed a response. “Mhmm?”

“What did ya do for fun back home?”

I felt her head rest on my shoulder for a momen, before she pulled away. “For fun, huh?” In the dark, I heard her tap her a hoof on the ground, before letting out a brief blow. “Flying, definitely. It’s the most awesome thing I do… well, besides saving Equestria with my friends.”

“Saving Equestria?” I blinked a bit at that. “What do ya mean by that?”

“My friends and I… we go help other ponies. Sometimes it’d happen in Ponyville, and other times it wouldn’t. It didn’t matter where. It’s something that we’ve always done.” She paused, taking in a deep breath. “I see it as a way of spreading how awesome it is to be happy with others that care, y’know?”

“And what does spreading awesome mean?”

“Spreading awesome?” She squeaked out. I nodded, and watched as she looked at my hands. “Well, it just means… that I want to show others t-that there’s a good side to everything. I want to be friends with other ponies, so I can learn from them, and I want them to learn from me, too. I want them... to know that I won’t l-lead them empty-hooved. I want them to be happy, as I am.” I turned to see her white teeth forming a grin, while her gaze looked into mine. “That’s what I do. That’s why I’m Loyalty.”

“Loyalty?”

She hesitated, pawing at the ground, before she approached and briefly nuzzled my back, which caused me to stop rubbing the two chunks of wood for a moment. “The Element of Loyalty. I’ll never leave my friends behind, and you better remember it.” She smirked, before continuing, “I’m the second best Element of Harmony ever, in my opinion.”

I sucked in a bit of air. It was a lot to take in. This injured pony behind me was like a protector or something. Like a guard, but... better. She cared about others, and… she was my guide. The guide to complete my ‘quest’.

I smirked. “Well I’m glad that I have the second best Element of Harmony ever with me.”

Rainbow Dash giggled weakly. “And I’m glad you’re not some crazy alien.”

“Crazy alien?”

“You know what I mean,” Dash said quickly. I didn’t, but I kept my mouth shut. She took the opportunity to bring her hoof close to my hand, something that nearly made me jump out of my skin. “You know, those logs won’t light up themselves.”

I grabbed at the chunks again. If she could see my face, my cheeks would probably be red right now. “S-Sorry, Dash. Got lost in our conversation and—”

“Don’t worry about it, Dyson. I got lost in it too.” I still felt her behind me, but she no longer was near my shoulder. She moved a bit to my left, if my ears weren’t lying to me. She laid herself on the ground, watching from afar. “I’ll keep you focused on getting this done while we continue talking, okay?”

Gulping, I returned to scrapping the pieces together. “Sure thing, Dash.”

“Great! Now… let me finish answering that question you asked me…”

“Wait, ya ain’t finished?” I asked, putting some more pressure on one of the pieces.

Her snort was all I heard. “That would be totally uncool to think that I only just fly and save Equestria all the time.”

“Well what else do ya do?”

The sounds of the two pieces of wood grinding together made her take pause. Then, she cleared her throat. “Other than the usual cloud-smashing, I... train.”

“You train? For what?”

She sighed. “There’s this e-event in Ponyville coming up. It’s called ‘The Running of the Leaves’. It’s a race that me and a couple of my friends do. Problem is… that although I’m the best flyer in Equestria, I don’t run as fast as I fly, and Applejack knew that.”

I tap the side of one of the chunks. “Sounds like the two of ya are rivals.”

Rainbow Dash chuckled. “Yeah, and last time, we competed for last place.”

“Wait, what?” I asked. “Last place?”

“Y-Yeah…” Sounded like she wasn’t proud of it. “We were too busy with our heads in the clouds that we lost focus of the race.” I could hear the grains behind me shift. “Neither of us won medals that day, but it wasn’t about that. I just wanted to beat Applejack.” She properly neighed at that. “I’ll make sure I beat her this time around, and win the race too!”

I stopped and turned to where I thought she was, smiling all the while. “When we get out of this gorge, I be there to watch ya race.”

However, I was wrong. I felt her presence closer, like she sneaked up behind me once again. She whispered into my ear. “Thanks, Dyson.”

“N-Not a problem.” I stuttered out. I turned my attention back to the two chunks. I heard her retreat to my side once again, giggling to herself. After a bit more rubbing, I saw something. A yellow little light. It bounced off the piece of wood and into the dark. “Did you see that?”

Rainbow Dash gasped. “Yeah, it sparked.” She trotted in front of me, her eyes wide as can be. “It sparked!”

I could hear her trot in place, picking up dust in her wake. She was excited, and I was too. I’m close to getting this fire started. All I needed was to keep at it and…

“You can do it, Dyson! Just keep going!”

Those words of encouragement was all I needed. I ground those two suckers together with all the rest of the strength I had in me, and, suddenly, they became aflame.

“Holy…” I muttered.

A proud orange and yellow flame rose from my efforts. It stood happily, building up to be quite an impressive flame. It was feeding off the excitement of the pony beside me. “You did it! Dyson, we got a fire!” I heard the pat pat pat her hooves made against the grains. “Quick, get one of those longer pieces, and light it!”

I was way ahead of her. I grabbed a couple of the drier, thicker pieces of wood and brought them close to the flame. I stopped, momentarily, entranced by it. This was of my doing, a fire that I made with my two hands, without anyone forcing me to do so. It… was not because of Master. I did this. This was mine.

This was ours.

Without any hesitation, I plunged them into the fire. The fire roared in response. It engulfed them to the point that I knew they were lit. I pulled them out and there they were: two torches that burned happily.

“This is perfect, Dyson!” I could see her now, twirling in place. “Now we can see… what’s around us.”

I looked at what she saw, and gasped too. The cave was much larger than I thought. A high ceiling with darker grey walls, all with rocks that hung from the ceiling like chandeliers. It was… alluring, yet hopeless at the same time.

And then I saw the tunnels.

There were three different tunnels. The outer ones both were narrow, and spread out to each end of the landmass. The other, more central tunnel, was large and looked like it curled on itself. The two of us were… taken in by this place.

“Dash, there’s…”

“Three of them. I see that.” She tilted her head, muzzle scrunched at them.

“Yeah…” I said, my voice trailing off. My feet felt frozen where I stood. I waited for her to speak. She was my guide, after all.

Yet, she didn’t act like one. She piped up, “Where should we go, Dyson?”

She left the decision in my hands. That was not what I was expecting, yet I did not disobey. I was a…

I sighed. There were three tunnels, we could explore each without going down them fully. It could make the decision easier, let alone safer for us.

“Well, we could split up and see where they lead.”

I could hear her hum a bit as she took in my words, but then, as I looked over, she shook her head at me. “We could, but… separating isn’t the best idea. And plus, if there’s an eel down in one of these…” She shivered, tensely shutting her eyes. “I don’t think I could handle being down here alone.”

“Fair,” I replied. I tapped my chin, trying to think of something else.

Like always, she spoke first, “Oh, Dyson, I know! Let’s pick one at random and take it!”

“Are you sure that’ll work?”

Her lips curled up into a smile. “Of course. You got any other ideas?"

“Nope!”

“Then it’s settled!” Dash announced proudly. She then turned away from me and looked at the tunnels.

The cave was silent. I stood there, unmoving, while I watched Dash closely. She was using her hoof, nodding it off each time she passed one, and then when she got to the last cave in line, she jotted back to the first. She kept repeating this same pattern, all while she spoke underneath her breath. I couldn’t tell what she was saying, her voice was as quiet as a mouse. However, the last three words rang clear:

“You. Are. It!”

Her foreleg was outstretched, and her hoof was pointing down the middle path. The large one with a path curling down.

“Looks like we goin’ down the middle, Dash,” I said. I slowly approached it, waving my torch at the mouth of the tunnel.

“Guess we are,” she replied, coming to my side.

I brought my arm around where her shoulder would be, being extra careful of her wing. “Stay close, okay?”

“Okay,” she murmured and nuzzled my side. “I’ll try.”

“You better,” I said, tussling her mane. She let out a brief blow in response.

Nothing more was said. Nothing else had to be said. It was time. We took our first steps into the tunnel, slowly descending into the world of the unknown.

Author's Notes:

And... done. This is not a reposted chapter. This is a 100% new chapter. The last one we left off with was Mercy, after all. I will be continuing this story, but probably not uploading at this pace. Three chapters a day would be insane. I had done a lot of changes with these last three in particular, adding five hundred words alone in Break 2. I kinda screwed up with that chapter before, and well, it reads way better now and includes details that are important to the story.

That's not to say that the others that were also reposted weren't edited. In fact, the first chapter was riddled with errors, along with a weird plot point that wasn't needed. Point being, a lot of this stuff actually was tweaked with, and you might've not noticed it if you're new. Special thanks to Barracuda Cyborg for being a great friend and helping me fix the ever living shit out of my Rainbow Dash, and editing this fic too.

That being said, I hope you all enjoyed these chapters. The journey is not yet complete. It's far from it, and I hope you all will stick around for the ride. To close, I hope everyone has a great night or day, wherever you are in the world. Stay safe, and wash your hands. Please. For the good of humanity.

Careful What You Wish For

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Mr. Burr looked out at the wonders of his work once again. The sun shined down on the fields where many diligently harvested the grains. Several of the guards were situated under the canopy of the trees, some on horseback while others stood with a watchful eye scanning their surroundings. Mr. Burr saw all of this and smiled, his eyes grazing over the bushels being hauled into the barns. However, as he saw those slaves of his, he felt his lips sag. He didn’t know why, nor could he even come up with a reason as to why. There wasn’t anything wrong with the picture in his mind. It was a scene of production.

But there was this noise in his head, like someone hammering a nail into his skull. And that noise reminded him, and gave him a sense of dread. Was there anything wrong with the picture?

Was there?

Mr. Burr blinked.

“Master?”

The word echoed in his ear drums, drowning out that construction in his mind. He turned away from his plantation to find the source, only for his eyes to land on the two he had been waiting for. It made those lips of his curl right back up, forming into a warm smile. However, Mr. Burr noticed as Dyson and Sable walked up to him that they chose to stick a bit of distance between them and him. They also looked on, giving him what Mr. Burr sensed were hesitant smiles. They were forced, and Mr. Burr didn’t like it, but he knew why. So he said nothing, and chose to give them both a nod before he adjusted his cap.

“Well, we better be off. The Post can get a bit… filled, if we don’t get a move on,” Mr. Burr stated. He beckoned them closer, which they did, if Mr. Burr defined closer as a couple of footsteps. Mr. Burr mentally shrugged, as he sighed and turned to the stairs. It was time to take the first steps down them, ever since the last attempt went so well.

Slowly, Mr. Burr progressed to the first step. He kept himself close to the railing, his arm looped around it just in case if he felt a bit woozy and needed some support. His legs felt wobbly as he lifted his right leg up and planted it down on the step below.

His foot found purchase, which followed by the second swiftly meeting its side. Unfortunately for Mr. Burr, that sudden adjustment cost him to slip, his arm being flung upwards into the air.

Mr. Burr gasped, watching as his hat fell to the ground, while he, on the other hand, stayed somewhat upright due to a familiar pressure which held him there. That same pressure slowly pushed him upright, before holding him still.

“Uh… Master?”

“Yes?” Mr. Burr said through his now shaky, raspy voice.

“You don’t suppose we could help keep ya steady?”

With a grunt, Mr. Burr was now propped up against the railing, his gaze trying to focus on Dyson, who stood like a giant in front of him. “And what do you mean by that, Dyson?”

Dyson appeared as if he was about to open his mouth, but Sable had nudged his side and scooted in front of Mr. Burr’s view with a smirk. “Massa I think he means to help keep ya up when you’re movin’ down them steps.”

Mr. Burr felt his eyes roll onto the stairs as they looked more and more like a mirage.

The man gulped. “Uh… yes, I see what you mean.” He coughed. “I’d much appreciate it if you both helped me down the stairs. Could one of you fetch my hat?”

The two settled into their roles: Dyson stood on the left of Mr. Burr, making sure to keep close, while Sable stood on his right, who carefully swooped in to place that cap of his on his head, while nestling near his arm. Mr. Burr felt his cheeks boil at what the scene looked like from another view: two slaves were pressing up against a slave owner like they owned him. He felt like he was breaking a law somewhere in Mississippi, yet he knew, somewhat, with confidence in his guards, that no one would report him if there was one.

As they descended down the stairs, a couple of guards spotted the three and approached them. The first was one that Mr. Burr knew well. He had hired the tall husky white boy after his father had decided the boy was not exactly well-behaved enough. Mr. Burr had struck a deal for him to become part of his plantation’s hired hands, something that the father steadfastly agreed to. The boy has since stuck around, usually keeping to himself and out of trouble. However, lately, Mr. Burr had observed the boy’s mannerisms. They had gotten worse as of late through a bad habit that the boy picked up from one of the other guards. One that involved harming some of the slaves.

Mr. Burr wasn’t too happy with that.

The other was a shorter, more skinny boy with big brown eyes. He was a very quiet one, one that was wanting to find some work for a nice salary. Luckily, Mr. Burr found him before any of the other owners could get a hold of him. He was a nice kid. Why was he walking around with this man?

“Say, Mr. Burr? Why’re these Negros helpin’ you down the stairs?” the husky one asked, his blue eyes burning fiercely at the two slaves in front of him.

Mr. Burr saw that and matched his glare in kind. “Because I’m still ailed by this disease, Alston.”

Alston rolled his eyes. “You could’ve just asked one of us to help you, sir.”

“Right, and how would I have gotten your attention?”

Mr. Burr’s voice, raspy as it was from his ailment, most likely made Alston more curious, if his exaggerated head-tilt was anything to decipher. “Aren’t we obligated to come check in on you once in a while?”

“Yes, a once in a while,” Mr. Burr replied sternly. He shifted his arms, hoping that the slaves next to him would get the gesture, before he took a step down the stairs. With a grunt, he continued on, one step at the time, while he kept speaking to Alston, his eyes never leaving him. “And that while tends to be later and later as the days have progressed. Although I have not conversed with you nor the rest of the guards on the matter, I am willing to confine myself with all of you to discuss it later, but—ergh,” Mr. Burr growled as he landed on the final step with a less than gracious hop. Mr. Burr carefully dusted himself off, before he smiled at his two slaves. “I have more important business to attend to, and these two are willing to help me carry out my duties.”

Alston sneered at the two slaves, while the other, more soft-spoken guard kept himself quiet, his eyes doing all the talking as they darted between Alston and Mr. Burr.

With a smile still plastered on his face, Mr. Burr addressed the second guard. “Henry.”

The one blinked himself back into his own stupor, which made him sputter out a reply, “Y-Yes, sir?”

“Come with me. I require your assistance today.”

“Aye, s-sir!” Henry said, before scurrying over to his side.

Alston looked gobsmacked as the four began to walk on by him. “What about me, sir?”

“Keep an eye on the rest of the plantation for me, Alston. And let the others know that we must talk in due time.”

“Very well, sir,” Alston said, bowing his head. He gave Mr. Burr a cock-eyed smirk. “We’ll make sure they ain’t runnin’ off while you’re gone.”

Mr. Burr and his company walked down to the edge of the street before the slave owner paused, and let out a shudder-y sigh.

Dyson was first to his side. “M-Master?”

Mr. Burr brushed him off and shook his head. “Nothing to worry about, Dyson. Just trying to make sure I don’t lose my breath in this heat.” He panted and wiped his brow. “Well, we better press on, shall we?”

The three nodded, even if one did not know of what was to come.

And neither did Mr. Burr, even though he had the letter slipped into his pocket, neatly folded to conceal his next move.

The walk over wasn’t as bad as Mr. Burr had imagined. Truly he was parched as they had strolled into town, but the thirst he desired would have to drink in the limelight of Ripley first. He kept his company close as they navigated through the town’s small center. Unlike most days where the town center wasn’t bustling, today was filled with many men. They were unlike the townsfolk, dressed in grey from top to bottom. Each man held a musket in his hand, perched on his shoulder as they marched through the town. Mr. Burr recognized a few and was willing to watch as the men walked by, much to the chagrin of his own company, who waited patiently for Mr. Burr to stop sharing his pleasantries with the men. The slaves had kept their distance, both from the scene they were witnessing and their guard, who was glaring at them with intent.

Mr. Burr smiled as he wished a man well. It was a young boy he had known from another plantation, now going to serve in the army. There were actually a couple just like him, and Mr. Burr was proud.

It was a tight knit community after all.

When the march had slowly dwindled, Mr. Burr walked back over to his company and adjusted his collar. “Sorry about that. A few of the men in that company had called me over and I had to indulge them. I hope they do return from battle unscathed.”

Dyson and Sable nodded, while the guard stood still.

Mr. Burr gave the three a smile. “Shall we continue? The Post is only a short walk now.”

The three gave him a stern yet simultaneously affirmative, one that made the three of them look at each other. Henry had looked away first, sighing as he adjusted his stetson too. He turned to Mr. Burr and asked, “Think ya need me to accompany you inside?”

“No,” Mr. Burr replied with a quick shake of his head. “Brought you along to keep watch of Dyson and Sable here. Thought it would be wise to have them out to see the town.”

The two were silent on the matter, and Mr. Burr knew why.

He sighed. “You know, you two don’t have to be afraid to speak.”

Sable blinked like an owl in a tree. “Ya sure, Massa? I don’t want to be a bother.”

“Neither do I, Master,” Dyson echoed. Mr. Burr felt the shake in the boy’s voice, which made him feel like maybe, just maybe, this may have been a mistake. “Don’t want no trouble with the rest of ‘em.”

Mr. Burr cleared his throat. “That’s fair. Just don’t give them a reason to and you’ll be fine.”

As Mr. Burr turned around, he felt that all eyes were suddenly on him. He felt like a rifle was being pointed at him from the trees on the edge of town, and each step made him more weary of the next. Yet, as he and his company finally made it to the front of the Post, he realized that there was nothing to be worried about. Nothing at all.

He turned to address his company. “Don’t worry, it’ll only be a moment. Just have to get something sent out of town.”

With that, he turned and opened the door to Ripley’s Post, a small yet tall white building. Without any hesitation, he slid into the building, leaving Dyson and Sable with the hired hand.

Henry stood still for a moment, sparing a glance at the two slaves, before he shook his head. He walked past them and sat on the bench near the entrance to the Post.

Dyson and Sable both huddled up near the guard, but instead of sitting down they stood still, neither trying to get comfortable when there were watchful eyes aplenty.

Henry clicked his boot against the bench, before he looked at the two and sighed. “Pretty nice out, ain’t it?”

Neither replied.

Henry let out a brief snort. “I’d never thought I’d see the day that Mr. Burr would take a couple slaves into town.” He spared them another glance. “Heard from the other guards he ain’t huge on taking slaves to town.. You two better be thankful.”

Dyson turned to look at the guard, but Sable glared at him, which made him slink back beside her.

“Why are you both so quiet? I ain’t tryin’ to get ya in trouble. I just want to… understand somethin’.”

That got both of them looking at him this time. “And what’s that, sir?”

The question looked like music to Henry’s ears as he gave Sable a good look down. “I’m just tryin’ to get why he valuin’ you two the most out of the entire plantation.”

Dyson’s eyes widened. Sable tilted her head. “Ya think so?”

Henry whistled and leaned back in his seat. “Oh I know so. It’s what everybody hears nowadays. Dyson this, and Sable that. It’s interestin’ that he’s got you two on his mind a lot. Is there somethin’ I don’t know about?”

Sable and Dyson both parrotted each other. “No, sir.”

“Really...” Henry said. He hummed softly to himself before he continued, “Nothin’ at all?”

Dead silence was all he got. The silence contrasted the commotion around them, as people walked in and around the town’s center, some watching the troops continue to traverse through the town, while others were going about their day.

Henry sighed. “Guess there ain't anythin’ going on with you three then.”

The two slaves stood still as if they were frozen to the spot, while Henry took a sidelong glance at them, before peering down the road.

Nothing else was said. The only noise that they heard were the sounds of a drum playing to a steady rhythm.

Walking down a hallway never felt like this. There was always an end to it, and yet here I am holding a torch to lighten up our path, and it feels like we’re just walking in place, unable to get any further in the cave. I looked over to Dash, who had been kinda quiet lately. She barely muttered a word, which was such a different thing to see compared to when we were outside. She was always ahead of me, seeing what was on the next ledge, wondering if there was a cave where we stopped for a rest. She was now silent, her hoofsteps mirroring my footsteps, and I wondered if she was quiet because there was nothing to say, or if she was, possibly, losing hope.

Yet again, I didn’t know how horses thought. I only knew what I knew.

“So,” I muttered. My eyes weren’t on her anymore. Instead, I was looking away, hoping that it would invite her to look my way.

I could feel her gaze on my face as she spoke, “Something wrong?”

I turned to her and gave her a soft smile. “Nope. Just makin’ sure you’re here, Dash. Ya kinda…”

“Went quiet?” Dash asked. I nodded, rubbing the back of my head with my free hand. She rolled her eyes. “You thought I could keep talking, right?”

I let out a chuckle, one that I rarely used because if I did, I would’ve gotten an ear full from my mother. It was awkward, a sign of ‘weakness’ in her eyes. And I got that, but I’m not at home right now. I’m somewhere else.

Somewhere with a horse that nearly sneered at me for all that nonsense. “Pfft, what do you think, I don’t have an off switch?”

“An off switch?” I asked with an eyebrow hopefully raised high enough for her to notice.

She must’ve, as she nudged me with a hoof. “Y’know what I mean? It’s like a button that you press and it turns something on and off.”

I shook my head before my eyes widened. I know what she meant! “So, like one of those lamps?”

“Yeah! You know, the ones with the lightbulbs that grow really bright when you flick them on!”

I blinked once. Then I blinked again. The image she had given me was completely different than what I thought a lamp was. There’s a difference between some type of onion being set aflame, and a fire being flicked on in a clear bowl. Then again, this was a different world, so maybe they were into lighting onions on fire.

I shook my head. “Not at all. I was thinkin’ a little smaller, like one of those where you turn it and the flame pops up.”

Rainbow Dash stared at me before she tilted her head. “You have lamps like that?”

“Of course, Dash. What did ya expect?”

The mare shook her head, messing up her mane a bit. “I keep forgetting you’re not from around here, Dyson. And that’s weird, because you’re… you, while I’m just a pony.”

“Yeah,” I mumbled, letting my free hand shift into what remained of my pocket. I waved the torch further ahead of us, only to be welcomed by the darkness. The flames slowly ate it up as we walked further and further down the cave.

Then, I heard her voice rattle in my ears. “Dyson?”

I looked down at her. “Something wrong, Dash?”

“Is it just me, or has the path gotten… narrower?”

I looked closely at the sides of the walls. She was right. I don’t think I was getting to the point that I was bumping into her a bit, something that I hope she wasn’t angry about. “Yeah, it’s closin’ in on us a bit.”

I watched her take a deep breath, before she turned to give me a smile. “Hopefully it won’t be a dead end or something, right?”

“Hope not,” I replied. I squinted my eyes a bit, just to see if there was something ahead of us that could be a sign, maybe of anything other than this, but nothing was showing up. Only darkness.

We kept walking for a while, until the passage was nearly too narrow for both of us to go down. I could always feel her side brush up against mine. I tended to ignore it though, it wasn’t her fault things were like this. It was mine. I let go. I made us fall down. It was my fault.

“Dyson, look!”

The gasp from Rainbow Dash made me squint ahead again. Then I gasped too, as we came up to a sudden change of pace. The passage suddenly widened, and there in front of us, was a channel, one that split off into two passages.

“Huh. Looks like you were right, Dash.”

My mumbles earned me a swift clip-clop stomp on the ground from Rainbow Dash. She glared at me while letting out a huff. “What do you mean by that?”

“Nothin’!” I quickly fired out, looking away from her to see these paths. I walked up to both and took a look at both of them separately. The one to the left immediately curved to the left, while the one on the right kept going straight. For how long it would be was something I wasn’t wanting to find out.

I turned and looked at Rainbow Dash, who was currently sitting on her flanks, staring at me with a bit of a head tilt. Her ears were standing at attention, while her eyes were wide. I raised a brow. “What?”

The mare shook her head. “Sorry, I was spacing out a bit.” She got off said flanks and walked over towards me, taking a peek down the one on the left. “Whoa. So this one goes immediately to our left, while the other one…”

“Goes straight on, Dash,” I said flatly, my tone more gravely than the grains we were standing on.

Her ears had sagged, flopping against the back of her skull. “Well, what should we do?”

“I don’t know. We could go down either one.”

Rainbow Dash snorted at my reply. Not sure why. Seemed pretty sound, but she rolled her hoof in my direction with a smirk on her face. “Why don’t we just go down one of them to see what's down it?”

She pointed her hoof at the one on the left, which I took as her actually wanting to go down it. “So ya want to go down here?”

She shook her head at me. “No, Dyson. I’m just saying that we could down either one to see where it leads, y’know?”

“Right…” I said, which brought us back to our little issue, one that involved us maybe, just maybe, having to grasp at straws again.

Just when I was about to open my mouth to do that thing again, I remembered something. It was a long time ago, long before Master had brought on those new guards. Actually, long before even Leo had gotten on the plantation. See, my mother and I were real close. And when I mean real close, we were real close. She kept me at her hip whenever the guards came out, and she was set on making sure I wasn’t blamed for anything. She always would take the hit if need be, and it made Master a little bit agitated at her.

One day, I did something a bit stupid. I took a blanket from inside the plantation and put it in the barn where all of us slaves slept. Master wasn’t too happy about that. He didn’t know I took it, but he did know someone did. She was really wanting me to take the blanket I got from the living room and put it back where I found it, but Master had gotten riled up about it, said he would be not too happy if it just cropped up without someone ‘fessing up’. Since I was too young, my mother wanted me to see how it would possibly feel. So, she took the blame.

And that was when I became afraid of doing things like that.

My mother came back to us later in the day. She looked a little rattled, and I asked her what happened. She said she fell down the stairs, but I couldn’t believe that. She was great at moving around. Ever since that time, she started moving a little slower. I found out why.

She had pulled me aside that night to talk. She told me not to do that again, while also telling me something that she wanted to tell me for ages:

“Now, listen here, Dyson. And ya listen good!” my mother had said, her words echoing in my mind. The angry whisper had continued, “Ya better not do that again. That ain’t yours for you to use, so don’t go ‘round thinkin’ you own the place.”

I remembered what I said back then. Something along the lines of: “But momma I—”

“None of that, Dyson!” she had interrupted me with. “I’m tellin’ you ya better be thinkin’ next time ya try to take somethin’. Ya better be thinkin’ about you, and thinkin’ about us.” She had glared at me fiercely, one that had burned this moment in my mind. “We have only a sliver of choice, it’s up to ya to make the right one.” She had smiled at me back then, her teeth looking more rotten the more I imagined them— “There’s no tellin’ what they do to ya when they catch ya. And I wanna show ya what they did.”

She had then turned around and showed me. I could never forget those scars. I don’t know why Master had done that to her back then, but I do now. I took something that was precious to him, something I didn’t know at all. Even so, I shouldn’t have taken something. I should’ve thought. It was my fault she got those scars. It was my fault.

I shook my head and looked at Rainbow Dash. “We don’t need somethin’ to help us figure this out. Let’s just go down one and get this over with.”

I could feel Rainbow Dash’s gaze settle on the back of my head as I passed, something which made her scramble to her hooves. “W-Wait, where are you going?”

“Well since ya looked left, we’re goin’ left!” I replied, my voice booming in the tunnel. She shook her head at me, making me stand still, frozen in place. When we heard nothing but the echo’s soft fade out of existence, we both collectively sighed.

Then, she spoke. “We should probably keep quiet. Don’t want to wake up a cave eel or something.”

I nodded and pressed on, but not without something that nearly made me jump out of my skin. Rainbow Dash had trotted up from behind me, suddenly hopping in front of me with a smile on her face.

“Did I scare you?” Rainbow Dash asked, craning her head at me.

“Kinda,” I replied, which got her to let out a little chuckle.

I rolled my eyes as we both fell into silence. All there was was the sound of our hooves and feet hitting the ground again. Slowly, Rainbow Dash fell back into line, favoring to stay by my side again. It was a bit unlike her, but ever since we’ve been down here, she’s been a little bit more comfortable walking up beside me. Still, I took a peek out of the corner of my eye to see if she was okay, and she seemed to be, if those lips on her muzzle slightly curling upward was anything. So maybe she was fine.

Either way, we kept on going, even if it meant having to walk until we saw a light.

Some time had passed. I don’t know how long, since there’s no sun to tell us what time it was, but I knew one thing was for sure: she and I haven't talked in a little. Granted, there wasn’t much to talk about without trying to force something out of thin air. I mean, we’re surrounded by grey grains all around us, some even darker than the others, but there wasn’t much else. It was pretty hard to breathe down here too, something that both her and I were very aware of. So maybe us not talking was keeping enough air for us to breathe.

I waved the torch around again. There really wasn’t much down here at all. And it felt like it was getting really hard to see anything now.

I felt Rainbow Dash rub up against my side. Looking down, I saw her eyes latch onto mine. She gave me another happy smile, but this one felt a little bit more forced. It’s obvious as to why.

“Ya need to rest?”

Rainbow Dash blinked, and her brows furrowed. “What? Why?”

“Nothin’, just thought we might need to rest.”

The pony shook her head. “And sleep in a cave like this that doesn’t have a way out?”

I blinked. “Uh…”

“Look, we need to keep going. There’s gotta be something up ahead that’ll help us out.”

“Why do ya say that—”

Suddenly, the ceiling above us gave way, and I don’t mean that it fell on top of us. It just stopped existing. Darkness bound above, and the wall went higher, higher than either of us could see easily.

“Told ya,” she said proudly, puffing her chest out. “Always go with your gut!”

I saw that smirk on her face. It was very, very smug, one that I rolled my eyes at and waved the torch around. “Keep havin’ that gut feelin’ then.”

“Will do,” she said with a mock salute before falling in line beside me. We walked around this cavern, making sure to keep ‘extra quiet’ to make sure no one else knew we were here. Thankfully, this particular cavern was vacant, save for a few extra rocks that we hadn’t seen before. Some were jutting out from the ceiling, while others were coming up from the ground. They were very pointy and long, and they weren’t exactly inviting.

“Dyson, look at that!”

“At what?” I said, turning around to see what she was staring at. The mare had her hoof pointed up towards this platform above us, one that had another route to go down.

Yet another cave or tunnel?

“Ya want to go up there?” I asked.

“That’s the only thing that looks like a tunnel of some kind! It’s the only option we got.”

I frowned. “Well let’s get a little closer to see how to get up there.”

We walked closer to this ledge where it was situated. Unlike scaling the side of Ghastly Gorge, this looked much easier to handle. In fact, she didn’t even have to latch onto my back. It was like this had been made easier for us, save for a couple of little platforms that I assume Dash would have to try and hop up. Should be easy for her though, even in the state she was in.

“Looks like we’re gonna have to walk up a few of these ledges before we’re up there.”

Rainbow Dash sighed. “Don’t worry, this looks way easier than what you were doing earlier.”

“That was what I was thinkin’,” I said, before clearing my throat.

She laughed softly to herself which was odd, since I didn’t think I said anything funny. Yet, here she was, clutching at her chest as she laughed to her heart’s content. Her laughter eventually died down, but she hadn’t noticed what I had done. I smirked as I watched her head dart around, searching for me. She hadn’t noticed that I had already started hopping up the platforms, which made me stifle a chuckle from where I was standing.

Unfortunately, she heard that, and saw where I was standing. “What, how did you…?”

“Get up here?” I asked. She dumbly nodded at me, which made me almost burst into laughter. “You were too busy laughin’ to notice.”

That got her a little bit irritated. She growled at me before she started to hop up to where I was. I watched as even though she was slightly angry, she still took her time, being extra careful with her wing. I knew Rainbow Dash didn’t want to injure herself again, let alone make that wing of hers worse.

I stopped and waited for her to catch up. I wasn’t waiting to meet my maker, but rather I was worried, since this next ledge was higher up than I thought. I could still probably leap and pull myself up, but for her, it would’ve been nearly impossible. So I watched as she kept on hopping up towards me, eventually settling right beside me with a huff, panting all the while.

“Outta shape?”

“Shut. Up,” Rainbow Dash breathed out, which made me chuckle. “Anyway, why did you wait for me?”

I bent down a bit, which I hope she realized was me asking her to get on my back. “Gotta get you up there somehow. This the only way I could think of—urgh!”

She hopped on without saying anything, which completely caught me off guard. She nearly wrung my neck with how she latched onto me, making me wince when she realized her nearly fatal error.

“Sorry!” she yelped out.

“Not a problem,” I replied weakly.

I propped my torch up against the wall of the cavern and leapt up. It was definitely a much easier jump, one that felt practically effortless as I pulled us up to safety. The mare slowly got off my back and onto her hooves. She turned around and craned her head over the ledge from which we came.

“Huh, we were way higher than I thought.”

I turned around and looked down the same ledge. The flames danced at the spot where I left the torch, and I realized that maybe I need to hop down just to get it.

So I did just that. With a bit of effort, I was able to retrieve the torch and hop right back up to her. That whole talk about it being higher up was just talk. She just made it out to be higher than it was. Maybe it was because she was a pony or something. Whatever the reason was didn’t matter. All I knew was that we were up here in one piece, and that the entire, little hopping-between-dried-up platforms adventure was enough for us to take a few moments to breathe.

After we relaxed a bit, it was time to get up and head through the tunnel that Rainbow Dash had pointed out. Thankfully, she was right once again as I waved the fire over the entrance of the tunnel. Peering into it, I gasped, and smiled. It was going straight back to where we came! And it was going even further up.

“Dash, this is great. It’s goin’ back the way we came!”

Rainbow Dash smirked. “You can thank me later once we’re out of here, big guy.”

I was about to say something about ‘thanking her’ when I realized what she called me, which made me raise a brow at her. “Big guy?”

Rainbow Dash’s smirk fell off her face. She blinked once, then twice, then three times before she looked flushed in her cheeks. “Uhh, let’s not talk about that.”

I shrugged. Not sure what that nickname was about. All I knew was that this could lead us to a way out of here. If it wasn’t then we’ll find another way out. There’s no way this cave was going to keep us here.

I took a deep breath and stepped into the new tunnel with Rainbow Dash in tow.

Deep Blue

View Online

Mr. Burr took a deep breath. He had finally gotten a moment to himself without having the feeling that he was going to jump out of his own skin. Why was he feeling like this? Worry? Dread? His mind was strangled by his own thoughts, chained to his own creation. They have led him to this situation, however, a journey from home to the Post, while they also led him to these distractions, distractions that, with a bit of wear, have threatened him with leave of his causation. His hands shook aplenty as he reached into his pocket. In his grip lay his letter, one that he had inked two days prior in his ill-minded state. He had to send this letter out so his mind could be at ease.

So, with this goal etched out in front of him, he took a few steps further into the Post. At first glance, it was empty. A hint of rose filled the air, which made his mind feel a misplaced comfort. However, the Post was as welcoming as any other home, offering a place to sit for those who seeked refuge from the sweltering Ripley heat.

However, when Mr. Burr’s gaze fell strictly on the Post’s board, he remembered what else this place was used for. The war had made getting the news around town a bit harder to access. Now everything was centralized at the Post, where a lone board was raised above two crude chairs in the room. There residents of Ripley would get their latest news, stories, and job listings. It was why people lingered around the Post before carrying on with their days. Everyone wanted to be informed, especially with these trying times.

Besides the board, the Post was well-furnished. There were two chairs set beside a large counter. Behind that counter were several shelving units. All of them, including the counter, were filled with several stacks of stationery. Mr. Burr couldn’t even count how many envelopes and sheets of paper there were in front of him, let alone behind the counter. However, amidst all the stationery mayhem was a little brass call bell. Since the proprietor of the Post wasn’t at his station (and if he was, he was hidden by the stacks of stationery), Mr. Burr felt the need to ring the bell.

So he did, his hand gently pressing the little switch down.

BRINGGGG! The bell had run. It kept on its course as it echoed in Mr. Burr’s mind. It reminded him of being back on the plantation, waking up to the sound of a grandfather clock’s chime, only in this case it had rung low and slow, instead of high and awry. Then, he was welcomed by his two loyal slaves. Not his guard. His slaves.

Mr. Burr took his hand off the counter, and blinked.

He could not come to grips with his mind as he stood silently in turmoil. He waited, and waited, and waited, his fingers slowly rapping and tapping against the counter top. He withheld the urge to press the call bell again, pulling back that hand of his from ever reaching it. Yet his fingers still danced on the counter. Where could old Mr. Farrington be? Had he been submerged in ink in the back? Or was there a load of postage he was planning to send off today? Mr. Burr couldn’t dive into that matter, it wasn’t of his own expertise. So, he resorted back to his impatience, tapping his fingers on that old countertop to the sounds of chaos.

Then, he heard footsteps. They were loud and clapping against the floorboards, which overpowered the tapping of Mr. Burr’s fingers. He stopped toying with the counter, and waited silently, his eyes peering at the doorway Mr. Burr expected Mr. Farrington to barrel through.

However, when Mr. Farrington rounded the corner, it was… not Mr. Farrington. The man was taller than Mr. Burr by about an inch or two, if he had to guess. Unlike him, the man wore no hat. Instead the man showed his thin gray hair that graced his head, which complemented his white mustache nicely. However, those contrasted his beady brown eyes that were accompanied by a pair of spectacles. The cracks in the man’s face chiseled the scars of work in Mr. Burr’s view. This man looked like he had been working here for a long time, yet he had never seen him before in the Post. Maybe it was Mr. Burr’s illness for this sudden bout of forgetfulness, as the stress accrued from his adventure may have blurred his memory. Yet Mr. Burr didn’t want to say it aloud as that blame would just appear as an excuse, and a dreadful one at that. Hard work makes a lonely man forget.

Mr. Burr’s statement had rang true as the man in front of him blinked twice, as if he was seeing a mirage. However, that mirage must’ve disappeared, as his eyes widened, and his lips slowly curled up into a rather toothy grin. “Mr. Burr? Is that you?”

Mr. Burr’s eyes widened. “Mr. Smith? Why are you…?”

The man known as Mr. Smith extended an arm out to Mr. Burr, his hand open. “I am glad to see you again, friend.”

“I am glad to see you too,” Mr. Burr said with a bit of hesitance. He shook the man’s hand as carefully as he could, being mindful of his own shakiness. “What are you doing up here in Ripley?”

Those brown eyes rolled with the wind. “Visiting a friend mostly. Wanted to confide with me about his business. I am only here for a couple more days. If I truly were honest, then I’d admit that this and my visit with my friend were ploys to see if the frontlines had inched any closer.”

“So you took up a job here?”

“This job wasn’t in my plans. I have known Mr. Farrington as long as I’ve known you, Mr. Burr. I had heard from my friend that Mr. Farrington had fallen ill again, which saddened me since I hadn’t seen him since I had moved long ago. This is the least I could do for an old friend like him. I mean, what type of man would I be if I hadn’t stepped in?”

Mr. Burr showed him a bit of teeth with that awkward smile of his. “One with ill intentions.”

“Oh, Mr. Burr, you and your wit,” Mr. Smith replied. He wore a smirk now, as his hand receded back towards a piece of paper hung on the wall. He unhooked it and set it on the counter. “Enough chatter, though. How am I to be of assistance on this warm day?”

Mr. Burr eyed the list before he spoke, “Have a letter I need sent down near you, actually. Ever heard of Ellistown?”

“I have,” Mr. Smith said bluntly. He then let out a rather delighted hum. “It’s a bit of a ways out from Griffinsstore, but I think I can make it there.”

“Griffinsstore?” Mr. Burr asked, a brow clearly raised.

Mr. Smith laughed. “It’s a village a ways Southwest from here. It’s secluded by the forests there, and there’s only a train line leading into it.” Mr. Smith smirked. “I’m not surprised you’ve never heard of it. Very few people know where it is.”

“Well,” Mr. Burr began, before taking out his letter from his pocket. He carefully slid the letter across the counter. “I need this letter to go to Ellistown at this address.” He pointed at the address he had scribbled on the back of the letter before he continued, “If you can put that in an envelope for me and send it off, I’d be in your debt.”

“Nonsense, Mr. Burr. The only debt you pay would be to the Post, not to me. Besides, I’d gladly do this for you, even without this position,” Mr. Smith declared. He brought the envelope closer, his eyes glazing over the address. He hummed an affirmative to himself before taking a sidelong glance at the price list. “Well, according to Mr. Farrington’s prices, that means you need to pay six cents.”

“Six?”

Mr. Smith sighed. “Probably a price hike since the war’s going on. Don’t want to get caught out by the Union, I suppose.”

Mr. Burr laughed and sifted through his pockets for the proper coinage. “I guess this is the price we pay for our misgivings.”

For our misgivings.

Mr. Burr felt his blood run cold. That sense of dread lurked inside him, bubbling like a stew being cooked. He resisted the urge to wince, as those words had tumbled out without him thinking thrice. He felt those lips of his sag a tad, while the cracks on his face crinkled from the movements. Yet, Mr. Smith showed no desire to expose him for his wordage. The man, instead, laughed. He laughed heartily, taking the letter in his grasp and shoving it in an envelope. With a few quick licks he sealed it, then wrote the address that was stated on the back with ease.

He gave Mr. Burr a bright smile. “As I said before, Mr. Burr, your wit knows no bounds!”

The cracks were shown even further as Mr. Burr tried to smile, while his hands quivered in setting the proper amount of coins on the counter. “T-Thank you, Mr. Smith.”

“It’s my pleasure,” Mr. Smith said with a toothy grin as he snatched up the coins that pitter-pattered on the remaining space of the counter. “I hope you have a great rest of your day, Mr. Burr. It’s mighty hot out.”

Mr. Burr nodded. “Same to you. I hope we m-meet again soon.”

“As do I,” Mr. Smith said, giving Mr. Burr a gentle wave as he turned away. “I hope we do.”

Mr. Burr was about to rush out the door when the chime above it suddenly rang true. In came someone he knew very well, someone who he wished did not enter when his own heart was hammering out of his chest.

“My, Mr. Burr, what a delightful time to be alive, isn’t it?”

“Y-Yes, Mr. Stockton,” Mr. Burr replied, seeing the black mustache twirler in his element. His voice trickled into Mr. Burr’s ears and tampered with his mind.

“I see you came into town with company,” Mr. Stockton said with a smirk. “Taking your slaves out with you on a stroll?”

Mr. Burr didn’t know how to answer that. He just blinked and let his words tumble out of his mouth again. “Somewhat. I wanted to thank them for assisting me while I was sick.”

A raised brow stood at first, which made Mr. Burr’s heart quiver. However, Mr. Stockton’s countenance changed, one which wore a delighted smile that made Mr. Burr’s heart race even faster. Mr. Stockton tipped his hat and nodded. “Well, I hope that you had a swift recovery from your ailment.” He paused for a moment, clicking his boots together. Then, he gasped, and laid his hand on Mr. Burr's shoulder. “Actually, it’s great that I ran into you, Mr. Burr! I have been wanting to thank you as your advice has helped me tremendously in persuading my slaves to ‘change their minds’ on how they view their work. They’re very happy now with how I’ve led them as of late. Without your advice, I’d still be stuck with the issues I’ve had in the past! I am glad that I… confided with you in sharing your views of the harvest.”

“You’re welcome,” Mr. Burr uttered. That hand which found purchase on his shoulder blade slowly drifted away back to where it came. It reminded him of those soldiers who he had indulged in speaking with, as some had laid their hands near his shoulder too as they passed by. They said they would defend the Confederacy to the last man, so they would not have to worry any longer.

His attention refocused when his eyes bounced back to Mr. Stockton’s face, where a very strong smile was staring right at him.“I hope that you have a great rest of the day, Mr. Burr. Please, don’t hesitate to drop by my plantation any time to see the fruits of your advice!”

The words echoed in Mr. Burr’s ears as he replied, “I shall do not to forget your generosity, Mr. Stockton.” And those words continued to echo as he watched Mr. Stockton approach that same counter he had done only moments ago. Mr. Burr’s eyes widened. There were no more people entering the Post. He could finally leave. So he did, barreling straight out of the door and into the harsh sunlight of Ripley.

Mr. Burr had tumbled out of the Post, much to the chagrin of his company, which had kept their positions the same until this disposition presented itself to the three. The slaves were first to follow after Mr. Burr, crouching down next to him with urgency in their words, while the guard kept his eyes on his surroundings before he got up and assisted the slaves in bringing Mr. Burr to his feet.

Mr. Burr panted hard at what he had endured. His slaves and his guard did not know what he had gone through, and if they did, they would surely not be so supportive. He looked back at the door with wide eyes and muttered, “Let’s go home.”

Henry had tilted his head at that one. “Wasn’t there something else you had to—”

“No,” Mr. Burr snapped. His eyes pierced through Henry’s, anger surging through his voice in a scratchy growl. “There’s nothin’ else I need to do today.”

Henry watched as Mr. Burr turned and walked down the street, his slaves following like mice scurrying back to its home. Henry too fell in line, but not before he shrugged. The constant squeaking from the slaves’ mouths made Henry blink. He, then, shook his head. Was he getting sick too?

Henry doubted that. He doubted that even as the harsh Mississippi sunshine bombarded him.

It had been a while since I last thought of that one cavern that we were in. Now we’re just walking in a straight line, progressing up this awkward path. My legs felt like they were turning to jelly as we kept our pace, and I really wanted to turn to Dash and ask her for a bit of time to rest—but I couldn’t tell her that. Could I? Would she just tell me to keep on moving?

I spied a glance over at the winged pony. She was looking down the tunnel, her head hung low. She was trying to not twist her face as she walked, probably still aching from that wing of hers. Or maybe she might need a rest too.

“Hey, Rainbow Dash?”

She turned her head towards me, her ears twitching. “Yeah?”

I stopped and gave her a smile. “Want’a rest a bit?”

She sighed. “Kinda… Even if I hate to say that I don’t want to. We’re close to the way out of here, I can feel it!”

“Gut feelin’?”

“Yeah! Either that or it’s my stomach growling.”

As if on cue, they both heard a quiet rumble. Fortunately, it was Rainbow Dash’s stomach growling, which made her turn away from me while I tried to not laugh too loudly.

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up buster.”

It took me a bit, but I was finally able to calm myself. The mare rolled her eyes at my antics, choosing to lean up against the wall for support. She took a deep breath and shivered against the lifeless grains.

“Look, Dyson. I’m sorry for getting you stuck in this mess.”

I raised a brow at that. “Gettin’ me stuck in this mess?”

“Yeah. Y’know, if I didn’t crash into you, things would be…”

Her voice trailed off, but from the looks of things, she wasn’t wanting to let that die. She wanted me to step in, even if I was uncomfortable with it. And judging by her head hanging low, and her sudden aggressive exhale, this had been biting her for quite a while.

Not sure why this would be biting her so much. I mean, I wasn’t planning on getting put into a Gorge with a talking hor—pony, let alone getting knocked off my feet by one. Yet here I was, standing next to her while she sounded like she was tired of it all. Now, I know what I’ve been told: bring myself up by my straps and tell them that I’m not waiting for the Gorge to kill us. I wanted to get out of here, and if I were to do that, then I needed her help. She’s my guide, after all. That’s what that woman said in my dream.

I snorted and walked up to the pony. Gently I patted the top of her head and gave her a smile. “‘Fraid I’m goin’ have to disagree with you, Dash.”

She groaned when I tussled her mane, but she soon brightened up to it when I slowly slipped my fingers through it.

“You do?” she breathed.

“Yep,” I replied with a smirk. “Way I see it, you be the only reason why I’m gettin’ out of here. If ya hadn’t flown right into me, I probably would…”

I probably would be dead.

She knew what I was going to say, if her swallowing in whatever she had in her throat was anything to go off of. “When you put it that way…”

I nodded. “Yep, kinda hard to say sorry when I need ya to help to get us out of here.”

Her lips slightly curled upward, but they soon fell as she looked forward into the tunnel. “So, you’re saying I shouldn’t be sorry?”

“I mean, not exactly. Ya nearly buried me underground with that landin’—”

“Besides that!” she snapped, waving her forehooves at me almost at random. “Should I be?”

I shook my head. “Nope. If anythin’, I should be thankin’ you.”

That got the desired reaction I wanted: a bright toothy grin, furrowed brows, and a neigh to boot. “Dyson?”

“Yeah, Dash?”

“Let’s stop wasting our time resting and let’s get out of here,” she said with a very confident smirk on her muzzle.

“Now that is the Dash I’ve come to know!” I exclaimed, much to her delight. She rolled her eyes and beckoned me with her wing.

“Come on, slowpoke! Soon, I’m going to be racing laps around you!”

I smirked and brought the torch up once again. “Then lead on.”

And she did without ever looking back.

I had lost track of how long we’d been walking, but here we were, my hand still firmly wrapped around this torch, which continued to burn proudly even if I had to slide my hand down just to not burn it. The pain that had wrecked my body prior to this all kinda just melted away, if that was a good way of describing it. I wasn’t feeling much pain at all, and that made it so much easier just to walk with Rainbow Dash by my side.

It was so easy, I could just—

“Hey, Dyson?”

My train of thought became as dead as a wagon tire. It was like I suddenly didn’t know what was what, and even though my body was still trudging forward, with one foot in front of the other, I was almost unable to respond to Rainbow Dash, who was looking at me with a sense of curiosity, her muzzle scrunched up.

“Yeah, Dash?”

“Stop.”

I froze and peered down at her. “Why? Do ya see somethin—ack!”

She playfully slapped me on the back of my head with her good wing, something that made me wonder if she’s starting to open up to me, or if she was just trying to get me to stop talking.

It was probably the latter.

“Dyson, walk up a little closer to the edge there.”

“The edge?”

I didn’t hear a response, but when I walked up to the edge, I dipped my toe in some more of that great liquid pride.

Water.

“Again?”

“Yep,” she muttered. “Looks like we’re going to have to dive to get our way out of here.”

Her words echoed in my ears. “Dive? Are ya sure this is the only way? I mean, with how your wing is and all, we be riskin’ a lot and—what?”

“Dyson, are you serious?”

I tilted my head. “Yeah, why? Did I say something wrong?”

“No,” she said with a quick shake of her head. “But you’re not making any sense. What do you mean by ‘is this the only way’?”

I frowned. “I don’t know. Are we sure we took the right path? Maybe if we went back and checked that other cavern, maybe that would lead to an easier way out.”

“This isn’t the time to second guess ourselves, Dyson,” Rainbow Dash said with a huff. “Besides, Wonderbolts don’t do that anyway. We make a decision and we stick with it until we crash and burn.”

“That easy?”

She nodded. “That easy. We either dive, or we dive.”

“Is that the only two options?”

“I don’t know about you, but I don’t like thinking about the third option. Dying isn’t very cool, so let’s not think about that, kay?”

“You’re right,” I breathed. I felt the moist air tingle against my lips. “But should we check to make sure we’re not swimming into some kind of trap?”

Rainbow Dash surprised me with a nod. “Probably. Would be smart since you can’t see all that well in the dark.”

I nudged her side, which earned me a giggle back. “Great, then I’ll stay here until you come back up. Don’t be too long.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to volunteer?”

“Nope. You the one who can see in the dark.”

“True…” Rainbow Dash trailed off. She then smirked at me and puffed out her chest. “Alright! I’ll be right back. Don’t you move anywhere!”

“Not plannin’ on to. Promise me you be careful about them eels.”

“You want a Pinkie Pie promise?”

“No, I rather you not to poke out your eye.”

She scraped her back hooves against the ground, and lowered herself down. “Well, in that case, you’ll just have to have faith in me!” With that, she sprung into the air and landed straight in the water with a rather explosive splash. I was showered in the dirty spray, my arm propped up to shield me from the blast. Thankfully, her sudden exit didn’t put the torch out, so I was able to see what was around me while I waited for her. I gently propped my torch near me, and sat on the ground.

I was alone now. Without her. My mind raced with what could happen to the poor mare. An eel’s next lunch. Drowning all alone. Or she finds a way out and leaves me here to die. Or maybe not. She will come back up. She seemed to be okay with this decision anyway, especially with how excited she looked. She was practically begging to jump into it. Not to mention she did say we were in this together…

So why was I worried?

Those thoughts rattled my head enough to where I propped my head up against the wall. I groaned as I closed my eyes. Thinking back, there was a time I felt like this too. It was back when the new guards came in. Probably about a couple weeks into their stay now that I’m thinking about it.

Anyway, there was this guard. His name was Henry. He was quiet unlike the others, a silent type who liked watching from afar. This was fine by me, as this was one less guard that liked to mess with the rest of us. At first, Henry was the type to let us slaves take a break if we needed it. He would ask us about how we were doing, and would even ask us questions about life outside working on the plantation. While my fellow slaves saw this as him being naive, I saw this as just him being curious.

I wish I thought like them. It would have been easy to just ignore Henry. Get back to work, drown out the noise. But as time progressed, and the guards tried to influence Henry, I noticed that he didn’t change. Even if every single one of them guards had told him to do things differently:

Slaves are not ‘like us’.

Stop asking them questions! They don’t know probably half of what you’re sayin’!

They’re meant to work. And we’re meant to watch so they don’t stop.

They were right. We ain’t like them either. The sweat, the tears, the heat, the pain—it was what we expected. Except for me. Except for Sable.

Except for Henry. He was fine with talking to us like it was normal. But he also had to keep up an act around us to make sure he wasn’t outed.

I sighed. It was obvious to me now. Rainbow Dash and Henry were alike. They both were confident. They both knew who they were. However, Henry was way more nervous than Dash. That pony was confident in anything that she did, at least, that’s what I got from her. Maybe she was hiding something. If she was, then that was fine. She’s definitely made me forget that she was… different from me.

“A slave? In Equestria?”

“He enslaved you, Dyson!"

“Of course! No pony should do that to another! It’s wrong on all sorts of levels!”

“You’re… you, while I’m just a pony.”

Enslaved. Being shocked about me being a slave. The view that it’s wrong to be one…

Am I truly who I think I am?

I took in a huge gulp of air. Maybe I was, or maybe I wasn’t.

“You had been asked before about freedom, yet you felt free already, didn’t you?”

I did feel free. That was something I had—

“Yet he hurt them too, did he not?”

I felt my blood turn cold. A shiver raced up my spine. Master hurt me too. He hurt my family just like before, but then he stopped. He stopped hurting everyone. Is it okay to feel safe even in a place like that? Was it wrong?

I gripped the ground tightly, moving bits of grain in my hands. The grit slithered against my dry skin. I gripped the remainder in my hand and let it drop on the floor, the gray dropping straight back to the earth again, lifeless in life. Nothing felt truly alive here, other than me. A freedom to be alone in a place so lonely.

Freedom to be free.

SPLASH!

Suddenly emerged a soaking wet light blue pony with pink eyes. A grin was firmly planted on her face, and her eyes darted to me with surprise.

“Dyson! I found the way out!”

“Y-You did?!”

“Yeah!” Dash chirped, puffing out her chest. “I was able to poke my head out and I found a whole different route that had a light at the end of it! That may be our way out of the Gorge!”

The pony hopped right in front of me, yiping with glee. Meanwhile, I was stunned. We were about to get out of here. Finally!

“That’s great, Dash!” I was now smiling and hopping with her. It felt great finding a way out, all that was left was to—

“We’re going to have to ditch the torch though.”

I tilted my head. “But what if what you saw doesn’t lead to a way out?”

Dash rolled her eyes. “You still would have me, right? Besides, it would get all wet and I don’t think you and I have the luxury of time.”

She was right. We didn’t have a lot of time. Ditching the torch would make it easier for me to swim.

You still would have me, right?

Why was I worrying? We were in this together!

“Yeah, Dash, I still have you.” I made sure the torch was propped up against the wall before I got up and dusted myself off. “Do you want me to put the fire out?”

She waved a hoof so lazily at me that I thought she just broke it. “Nah, just leave it there, it’ll fizzle out eventually.”

“Right,” I said, taking in one final deep breath. “Are you ready?”

“Of course! I’m always ready. You, on the other hoof, is what I’m worried about.”

That sense of worry from her made me feel… different. Happy? I couldn’t place it. There wasn’t enough time to.

“Why are you worried about me?”

“I’m worried that you won’t keep up with me is all!”

“Pfft, only thing ya have to worry about is me losin’ track of ya!”

She decided to cut down her confidence a bit. “Yeah…” she muttered, her voice trailing off. “Just make sure to hold onto me. I’ll make sure we get through this.”

“Together, right?”

I balled up my hand and reached out to her. She smirked and shoved her hoof into it.

“Yep!"

After sparing a final glance at each other, we dove into the deep blue.

Outsiders

View Online

It felt like it had taken forever to get back home, but Mr. Burr and his posse made it safe and sound. The heat had made the man behind the plantation worn thin, slowly wiping his brow as he ascended the stairs of the back deck. Mr. Burr gripped onto the railing for dear life, hoping this would make him stable enough to not concern his company. Fortunately, Dyson and Sable were right there behind him, tailing the man to ensure he does not falter in front of everyone else. Henry was there too, but not directly behind Mr. Burr. He, instead, was following the two slaves closely. Whether this was out of curiosity or to ensure Mr. Burr’s safety was not something Mr. Burr could determine.

The four shuffled their way into the house. There wasn’t much talk among them at this point, just a silent walk home after Mr. Burr had frantically raced out of the Post. That treatment continued even as they made their way into the house. They were just outside Mr. Burr's bedroom, when he paused, turned around, and spoke shakily, “Henry, c-could you please wait downstairs?”

Henry took off his hat and tilted his head. “Yes, sir, but why, if I may ask?”

“To ensure that we are not disturbed. I need to speak to these two in private.”

“Very well,” Henry said, bowing to Mr. Burr. “Let me know if you need anythin’ else, sir.”

“Will do,” Mr. Burr replied. With that, Henry turned and descended the stairs. When Henry was out of view, Mr. Burr sighed and turned to Dyson and Sable with a bright smile. “Thank you both for accompanying me to the Post. There is more that I need you to do, but that can wait until we are in my room. Come.”

The two slaves looked at each other, a raised brow on one while a tilted head wore on another, yet they did not dare oppose their master. They cautiously walked into the room. The room was as they had left it: clean and tidy, save for a slightly tousled bed sheet (must have been done by Mr. Burr’s changing). Mr. Burr walked in last and closed the door behind him, locking it with a swift tap on the door.

Mr. Burr hung up his jacket on a rack nearby, and let his hat twirl on the top half till it hung there, silently watching him move. He walked to his bed and flopped on it, breathing in deeply while his company looked onward, their gazes perturbed by their situation.

“So, you are probably wondering why you are here.”

The two slaves nodded in unison.

“It’s… complicated. However, our discussion can wait. Please, help me to my bed.”

“Are you okay, Massa?” Sable asked, standing next to him.

“I would be lying if I said ‘yes’. The trip back had me feeling light-headed. Hopefully this is telling me that I need to get some rest,” Mr. Burr replied, yawning. “Not sure why I am so tired all of a sudden.”

“Ya musta been still sick,” Sable muttered. She sighed.

Meanwhile, Dyson walked up to the other side of the bed and crouched down. “Well, Master, ya can count on us in makin’ sure ya well!”

“Yes, I can,” Mr. Burr said with a weak chuckle. “I hope you don’t mind—”

“No, we do not mind assistin’ you, Massa.”

“Not at all,” Dyson parrotted. “It important that you are well, Master! To us and the plantation!”

Mr. Burr nodded, but something was amiss. He felt sick to his stomach, like a bunch of fireflies were burning his insides. He tossed and turned in the bed, but no matter how hard he tried, nothing felt right. And Mr. Burr knew, looking at the slaves around him, they were worried about him too. He just needed to feel comfortable in his own skin. Breathe.

“Massa, are you—”

“Could you…” Mr. Burr began to shout, but he stopped himself, his voice trailing off.

The two took a step back, giving him some room, and they waited quietly as their master mumbled incoherently to himself.

Then, he sighed and got off the bed. He walked over to the window and peered out. Dust drifted lightly past as a horse-drawn carriage passed by the estate. A guard, situated out front, stood still, sporting a canteen in his mouth. He gulped a couple times, before setting it back to his side. His musket was not in his hands, rather he had propped it up next to that very tree. Probably on his break, Mr. Burr thought.

The thought of having a break himself never crossed his mind. Mr. Burr snarled, “Nevermind.”

The gravely tone struck the two still, as they watched Mr. Burr pace. His pacing stopped when the clock sounded the top of the hour.

Frustrated, the man growled out his nerves, “On second thought, you two, grab some chairs, and sit tight. If I’m gonna feel better, I need to get some things off my chest. Listen, and listen carefully.”

Mr. Burr saw them nod and scurry about. Each of them grabbed a chair and placed them next to each other in the center of the room. Then, they sat down in their respective chairs, and waited. Mr. Burr sighed and began to slowly pace back and forth in front of them as he spoke,

“I have heard of what’s going on around the plantation. Lotta things, right? Despite everything going on, we still are maintaining. Yet, maintaining it is not good enough anymore. And on top of that, I have not solved anything that’s going on because all I know are rumors that you or the guards tell me. I do not know about you two, but I think it is time that ends today, especially if I am going to get through what I am going through, and I need you two to be part of this effort, okay?”

The two nodded, which prompted Mr. Burr to continue, “Now, I know I asked you this earlier, Sable, but what are the guards doing with Leo?”

Sable hesitated first, her gaze downcast, but when Mr. Burr walked toward her, she looked directly at him and began to prattle off her thoughts, “Intimidatin’ him, Massa. He ain’t likin’ them—and they ain’t likin’ ‘im either. It ain’t good and—”

“What exactly are they doing?”

Dyson frowned. “They shout at all them new ones. They say it’s their way of saying ‘Hello’.”

“Shout at them all? You better not be implying that they are getting physical with him!”

Dyson kept that frown smeared on his face, but he had a slow shake of his head. He gripped that head of his in his hands as he spoke. “It can get that far some nights, Master, but not all the time. And the kids… they see it too. They askin’ them to stop but they ain’t. They ain't stoppin’ at all.”

Mr. Burr growled out his anger. “Even you two?”

Sable and Dyson didn’t reply. That told Mr. Burr what he needed to know.

“They’re lucky I don’t send them to the frontlines—”

“The frontlines, sir?” Sable asked.

Mr. Burr shook his head. “Not important. Look, I need you to tell me what else they’ve done to you both and the rest of the slaves—”

“But we can’t!” Dyson shouted.

“And why can’t you?” Mr. Burr growled out.

Sable hung her head as she took the reins of the conversation, “It’s… not somethin’ we can do, Massa! The guards… they… threaten us too.”

“I don’t care about what they think. Do they think they are above me? If they are mistreatin’ you all, I’ll—”

“You would what, Master?” Dyson said with a tilt of his head.

Mr. Burr felt his lips quivering under Dyson’s gaze. He exhaled harshly out of his nose and sat on his bed. He put his palms through his hair, which was still damp from being under his hat for so long. He groaned. “I… my wife would be so disappointed in me.”

“Mother Burr, Master?” Dyson asked. Mr. Burr nodded. “But why?”

“I promised her, Dyson. I promised her to take care of everyone. I’ve tried to keep you all safe, even if that meant—” Mr. Burr stopped, shaking on the bed. He licked his lips. “Even if that meant having to change.”

“Change? Massa this ain’t makin’ sense and—”

“You two would have never stepped foot in this room six years ago.”

Dyson and Sable sat still.

“You two would have never gotten to the point you are now if I hadn’t changed. If I hadn’t changed, I would have kept you outside, whippin’ you into shape so that way I would expand my harvest northward. But after she died, I realized what she meant by takin’ care of you. I was… watching while she took care of you slaves. She would stick by you all in the dead of the night to make sure things were alright. I heard her some nights but never thought to look, that is, until one night, I did. That night, she was singing to the young ones a goodnight song that my mother taught her.”

Dyson slightly smiled. “She did, Master. She would do that every night—”

Downcast was Mr. Burr’s gaze, and so too did his breath shake as the atmosphere of the room tore into his core, affecting his words, “And now that she’s gone, have they slept well?”

Dyson hung his head. “I…”

“Massa, they sleep fine—”

“Don’t you dare lie to me, Sable! I hear them crying outside all the time! And when the weather’s not good, it’s worse than normal. I have to sit outside in that reading area just to get some quiet time to myself, and I sometimes sleep out there—”

“Then why do ya hide, Master? Why not fix the roof of the old barn and—” Dyson stopped himself, clamping his mouth shut with his dry hands.

Mr. Burr glared over at Dyson, before Mr. Burr swallowed and licked his lips. “I could. I could and I can, but what does that tell the guards? What do you two think?”

Sable hung her head low. “That you are a—”

“A nigg—” Mr. Burr stopped himself again. He coughed rather profusely, almost as if a demon was lurching out of him. He clutched his stomach, while trying to gasp for air. Was this the end? Was he meant to end this here?

Dyson and Sable surrounded him and elevated his pillows. They laid him down gently. “Sable, get some water!” Dyson shouted. Then she scurried out.

He was not going to let himself falter anymore into this hellhole he put himself into. God shall not smite him down. Mr. Burr would smite himself down.

“D-Dyson,” Mr. Burr struggled to get out. “I… I’m sorry.”

“Sorry for what, sir?” Dyson asked with a raised brow. “Sorry for what?”

“If I just said something…” Mr. Burr whispered weakly. “I should have done more—”

Dyson shushed him and smiled. “Master, ya let us live here. It different from the rest: it wide open, and not too bad most days. Better bein’ here than pretty much anywhere else. Besides, we just work for ya, and in return, ya give us a place to be without havin’ to worry about too much! Is that wrong?”

“It doesn't sound wrong but—”

“Then why worry?”

Mr. Burr fell into silence, his brow furrowing. He then grit his teeth and sucked in a bit of air. “Because giving you quarters is only a sliver of what I need to do.”

Dyson tilted his head. “Only a sliver?”

“Yes, I know my wife would rather you all be… well, too.”

Dyson laid a hand on Mr. Burr’s shoulder. “Get some rest, Master. We can talk more ‘bout this when you get better.”

Mr. Burr cracked a smile and let out a dry chuckle. “A-Alright, Dyson. I will.”

With that, Mr. Burr fell back into silence with a smile on his face.

Darkness greeted Mr. Burr in a form of a black cyclone that spun and spun while he listened to the voices of his two slaves, their movements and words echoing in his mind.

“Sorry, sir! Took a bit! The well out back was bein’ used by the other folks and—what’s goin’ on, Dyson?”

“He’s… finally restin’ up, Sable.”

The cyclone drowned out the rest.

The world around me grew still, save for the feeling of my lungs wanting to collapse, and the feeling of the murky waters blooming around me like mud in a field. The gloop made me feel like Death was gripping onto me, but I knew this wasn’t my time. I couldn’t give up, not now! Dash and I had already gotten this far, so why waste this opportunity to just drown in a cave full of water? That thought spurred me on, even if I was running out of air.

Thankfully, it didn’t take us too long to find the surface, and when Dash and I did, we burst through the bit of light that shone through. We both gasped for breath while the water around us splashed and bounced like two small bits of gravel landed in a bucket of water. As we both regained our ability to breathe, we both hugged each other happily.

“We made it, Dyson!”

“We did, didn’t we?” I said, laughing. I let go of her and continued, “Let’s get out of here and dry off.”

“Right,” Dash replied, hopping out onto the slopped shore beside us. She whipped herself like a dog, sending water droplets everywhere. Some even got on me, which made me tell to watch what she was doing. That got her to do it more, and she laughed the entire time too.

I sighed. I am definitely going to have to get new clothes after this. These are torn to shreds—they won’t last another week unless I get them fixed. That would have to wait though, we needed to get out of here.

“So, where’s this light of yours? I ain’t seein’ any tunnel—”

“Of course you can’t see it, you can’t see in the dark! It’s just a way down here and—” The dull blue outline of Rainbow Dash peered into a corridor that I could not see “Oh.”

“Dash, we can always turn back and—”

“No!” Rainbow Dash shrieked, her forehooves tapping onto my chest. “Stop! Look, we need to just walk down there. Trust me, I saw it!”

“From here?”

“No you dolt! Down there!”

“Then why were you looking down there like there was supposed—”

“Because I forgot, okay? J-Just… follow me!” She said with a rather unharmonious blow. “Sheesh! Some ponies…”

I heard her but chose to ignore her. She will be fine, she just needed some time alone to herself, but that didn’t stop me from gripping onto her tail so I didn’t lose her in here. It’s so dark that I wouldn’t be able to get out of here without her.

We walked for a while longer before I started seeing anything, and that was because, well, she was right. It was down a ways, through a few twists and turns that she totally left out of her explanation before we dove into the water, but eventually there was that light. It was piercing and white. It shined through the tunnel like heaven sent it to us as a gift. And when we got to the edge, I saw it.

The Gorge. We were still in the Gorge.

“Dash, are you seein’ this?”

“Yep. We’re still in it.”

The view was spectacular. A large swath of trees painted the land in a lush green that definitely showed more life than the gray grains. A larger stream of water slashed and rushed in-between the treeline, while the towering walls of Ghastly Gorge remained towering over us, surrounding us with giant holes like the one we emerged from carved into their mold. I took in a deep breath, and looked down, only to realize that our luck was looking up. We were closer to the ground than I thought, as there was a ramp that we could walk down without having to swing like I was before we fell into the hole from before. I exhaled rather harshly, feeling that fresh air coursing through me. I growled as my muscles ached, but we were too far ahead to rest now. We needed to explore. We needed to get back to this Ponyville that Dash kept hinting at.

Speaking of Dash, I looked down at her dirtied blue muzzle. She was looking out too—although more toward the right of us than the left. I assume she had something on her mind other than admiring the view.

“So, where are we now?”

That muzzle scrunched up real fast. “Not sure, but I think we are a bit further up than last time. Guess nearly falling to our deaths and exploring a few caves didn’t hurt our chances of escaping.”

“Sounds like it,” I mumbled. I watched as the sun slowly descended on us. “Lookin’ like the sun is makin’ a run for it. We need to think about where we goin’ rest for the night.”

“Yeah…” Rainbow Dash said weakly, her voice trailing off like the path of the sun.

“You okay?” I asked, kneeling down in front of her.

She nodded. “Just starting to feel weak is all. Guess the adrenaline finally wore off.”

That sounded bad. I frowned. “Then where do ya think we should go?”

Rainbow Dash walked further until her forehooves were right to the edge of a crack in the cliffside. “Hmm… Tell me, Dyson. You see that rock in the distance?”

I looked over to where she was looking. There were a lot of rocks in that direction: a giant mountain, a huge boulder that screamed ‘I want to be a mountain’, and a few slabs that jutted from the other side of the Ghastly Gorge. “Dash, there lot of rocks down there. You gotta be more—agh!”

Rainbow Dash had stepped on my foot, which made me groan in pain. “Sorry!” she said all of a sudden, before she looked down to where her hooves were and placed her hoof away from me entirely. “Just trying to get a better view to help you see what I’m seeing!”

“Thanks,” I groaned, before stepping back to give Dash more room.

Thankfully, she too was being careful, making sure to scootch over instead of trying to stomp on the ground. She flicked her hoof in the direction of what she was talking about. “That one, Dyson.”

Among the many trees in front of us was a giant slab poking through the heads of the trees. It was flat yet huge, tall enough to be above the trees but wide enough to announce its presence.

“Oh,” I muttered. I cleared my throat to mask the pain of her stepping on my foot. “So… what about it?”

Rainbow Dash looked at me with a smirk on her face, and her good wing was shaking in excitement. “That slab is one of the markers I use to keep track of where I am in the Gorge. I didn’t see it immediately as I was looking for other markers, but I am glad I saw it out of the corner of my eye.”

“Why is this one important?”

“That slab tells us we’re about halfway through the Gorge.”

“How do you—”

“—Know?” Rainbow Dash finished, her voice squeaking on the word. I nodded, which made her continue, “I used to train my long distance flying here. And when I mean train, I mean it. Was always here for a morning flight and then I would come back to see if I could beat my time. Nowadays, this isn’t considered ‘long distance’ for me, but when I was training for the Wonderbolts, this was what I did every morning.” After she said this, she gave me a bright smile, and her eyes lit up like the sun. “Trust me, big guy. If we keep following the markers up toward the slab, we will eventually reach Ponyville.”

“Are you sure?”

“Enough to break my other wing if you need me to.”

"This shall change, since Rainbow Dash will guide you. Therefore, I must not interfere.”

That pony’s words echoed in my mind. I have to trust her. There’s no other choice, is there? “Alright, I trust you. Just try not to step on my foot again.”

“Come on! It was an accident!” Rainbow Dash said, throwing her forehoves in the air. She groaned, but I don’t think it was due to what she said, as she let out a stabbing pain from being reminded of her broken wing. Her other one slumped to her side. “Sorry.”

I waved her off with my right hand. “Anyway, we should get down from here. It is gettin’ late, and we need to get some food and shelter. Or do you want to risk sleepin’ out in the open?”

Rainbow Dash hummed to herself before she responded, “You’re right. We can set up camp so easily, but food might be an issue.”

I turned and started down the cliffside. “Why’s that?”

Rainbow Dash followed suit, her tail swishing behind her. “Not a lot of things we can eat down here. Most of it is poisonous.”

Great. It’s like this place wants us to die. “Is there any chance we can find somethin’ to eat?”

Dash let out a brief blow. “Yep, but we have some competition.”

“Great. Guessin’ we goin’ meet some hyrdas?”

“Wrong,” Rainbow Dash said with way too much confidence. She walked up right beside me and smirked. “Timberwolves and manticores. Not to mention all the normal wildlife we get around here too. There’s a lot of animals out there that will snatch the food before we get to it.”

“Timberwolves?”

Rainbow Dash pointed to herself as she walked. “See how big I am?”

“You mean small? Then yes.”

The pony rolled her eyes. “Very funny, buster. Seriously, though. Timberwolves are huge. They’re two times as large as me, but with green glowing eyes and made out of a tree. Can you believe that? Oh and they got these really sharp teeth that could tear us to bits if they got close. And worst of all, they travel in packs. So if we run into one, we run into more of them.”

I felt my legs nearly buckle from that description. They would be as big as me. “Great, and manticores?”

“Not as bad as timberwolves, but if we run into one, we better make sure that we do not approach them. They got a huge mane and a tail that can paralyze us if we aren’t careful! Not to mention they are pretty large too, mostly the same size as a timberwolf, but they don’t travel in packs.”

“Got it,” I began, rubbing my neck. Hopefully she didn’t hear my voice crack there. “Sounds like you are givin’ us more of a reason to hurry then, right?”

Rainbow Dash smiled. “Exactly! I call leadpony!”

“Leadpony?” I tilted my head. “What?”

“Don’t worry, it’s a… pony thing. I’ll explain to you later!” She walked up ahead of me and craned her neck. “Just follow me! I think we can just follow the stream and it will lead us to that blueberry bush patch I remember running into on my last flight…”

“Alright,” I said, smiling.

I walked behind her, hoping that smile sold her on me not wanting to turn around and scale the cliff face again. Thankfully, she didn’t turn back to check on me, as she was too absorbed in whatever she was planning. There was no choice. It’s either now or never.

I picked up the pace and followed her into the forest.

Mutual Fear

View Online

It had been a few days since Mr. Burr’s visit to the Post. During this time, he dove into his archives, and read up on things he had missed. This is what would happen to a man bedridden due to a disease that wanted to force him to read. And read he did: the newspaper had been ripe with news for the week, while Dombey and Son was finally cracked open after dust had collected on its cover for quite some time. And in solitude Mr. Burr also consulted with the Bible, with pages creased to a section that he thought would help him in turning his luck around. Although, none of these would tell the truth of why he had been healed.

Those two were by his side the entire time again. Sable had suggested bloodletting to get him to feel better, yet he promptly refused like last time, while Dyson told him he needed to rest and drink some warm water. Mr. Burr did so, not because Dyson was a professional, but because he was not hooked on bloodletting. Now Mr. Burr was back to normal, which startled him dearly.

Was the loyalty of a negro deserving of more recognition? Or would that be placating them, making them feel worth it? The risk upon reward—if that had slipped out, who would tell? Would there be someone at his door with a gun pointed at his head?

Mr. Burr shivered. He turned over in his bed as his mind raced alone in the room, his thoughts plagued of what he had said a few nights ago:

I promised her, Dyson. I promised her to take care of everyone…

Yet here he was, considering if it was worth it to give them a ‘thank you’.

You two would have never stepped foot in this room six years ago.

Yet they have, several times in fact.

Because giving you quarters is only a sliver of what I need to do.

Truer words have never been spoken—

Then why do ya hide, Master?

Why do you hide, Master?

Why do you—

Hide?

Mr. Burr shot up from his pillow, panting heavily. To his right, light shined in from the outside window, while the rest remained dark. The sun offered no warmth despite its burning gaze, especially since Mr. Burr could see the cloud cover roam in. They stayed there, lingering, the gray shrouding God’s rays. The only warmth brought into the room was a candle at his bedside. The tip was worn through, burnt to a crisp. The heat pervaded the room. The wax that had dripped down its sides was now just a gooey, goopy mush that could be comparable to decorated boots on a hard summer’s day in the fields.

Grunting weakly, Mr. Burr rolled out of his bed. The blankets did not shed from his body as it now clung onto him, providing what little warmth remained. Shivering, the man peeled away the rest of his covers, groaning uncomfortably as he did, before he tended to his closet, which was across the room. He opened it gently, basking in his haul. He pulled out an assortment of clothes and graced them on his bed. He took his time, meandering over each, before deciding on his outfit: a white shirt with an upstanding collar, which was worn underneath his coat, while his trousers were of a cream color, and his shoes were of leather and a dark dreamy black. To complete it, he walked over to his makeshift hook, which held his usual brown stetson. He fitted it on his head and turned back around. Carefully, he hung the outliers back into his closet, and sauntered over to his nightstand. There he had left a small, old paper book that held his jotted-down worries. He put that book in his pocket before he left the room, leaving the door to softly click against its frame.

It didn’t take long for Mr. Burr to make his way down the stairs and onto his porch. Now that he was feeling well, he could finally make his way outside. There, he could observe his lot, the fruits of labor and their laborers, and there he did. He watched as Argus, one of the taller slaves, work the fields. His arms stretched out like wings but were tough and durable like an ox. They grabbed whatever they could purchase, which was more than the others, and he threw his grains into his oversized gray bag.

Like Argus, the remaining slaves were diligently working. Two, three, four alike, and many more were grazing in the fields. They settled for several moments, working the ground with their bare hands, before they moved again, shuffling under the watch of the sun. They moved and moved and moved, grazed and grazed and grazed, until they had enough to store in the barn. The cycle, the money that Mr. Burr knew best, filled the air. He took in the scent, and swore it was the best thing he had ever smelled.

Mr. Burr sighed. Despite his happiness, he had not seen Dyson or Sable yet. Where could they be? Was Sable conducting a headcount? Or was she checking the grains they took in the barn? Was Dyson helping one of the guards again? He could not recall if he had ordered them to do such things, or if he did and his memory had lapsed once again and somehow through his foggy haze told them to take care of his errands. The second was highly unlikely; they would need passes for those who were under his roof.

So, where were they?

The question lingered, as now his focus was not honed in on admiring his fortune. He was looking into finding two of his lot that had wandered off without him knowing. With his mind focused on a single objective, Mr. Burr turned away from his post and began his search. He descended the stairs with care, holding onto the railing for his life. There, when his legs met soil, he lost his grip. He walked safely forward into the foray of a harvest operating without its master.

It was contrary to think of a system like his where the mutual fear of a final day kept his slaves in line, but it was swiftly sworn throughout the ranks of his men to uphold this within means. Those means could reward them with safe refuge from a war raging on while sleeping comfortably in a barracks created by those who they watched and were sworn to protect. There, though. did Mr. Burr find flaws in his system. He knew of the slaves and their struggle; living under the inadequate barn he once used for his cattle. They are not as abundant anymore, as he was asked to have his cattle used as food for the soldiers of the Confederacy, now the livestock of the barn were of his workers, the life and blood of his plantation. He was fine with this equivalency until… recently.

“Harvest is doin’ well, Massa! Got all of ‘em in line out there!”

“It important that you are well, Master! To us and the farm!”

Sable and Dyson weren’t livestock. Not one bit. Neither were their families, a notion far too late to have realized. They all huddled under a leaky roof with water that dripped down on the hay, and they were probably welcomed by rats which squeaked in their ears at night. Mr. Burr had hired a rat catcher to lay traps in their wake, yet it was only a fresh ‘ask’. He knew he was far too late in getting this all set up, but he knew something had to be done. That old rickety barn was not considered a house. It did not shield his slaves properly from the weather, and it certainly did not appear safe for anyone to live in. It was just… there.

But what could be done of it? It was not of the guards' order to build the barn and even if the slaves did, what would that tell his hands? That they are equal to those they see as less of? Mr. Burr was at a wall that he could not climb up or break through. He was just stuck there, learning to say “Thank you” in a mostly hushed tone to a group that he was afraid to thank—and if he did, he let his true feelings slip in a form of rambunctious action, his excitement peaking. If someone overheard… it was a mutual fear, just like them. He had nowhere to go, nowhere to feel safe if they found out. Just like the slaves who could not feel safe in a shelter born of that fear.

This train of thought could not be disregarded. Mr. Burr knew that. But he had no time to dwell further. Time is money. And time is of the essence.

Mr. Burr passed by a couple more of his lot. They diligently handled the grains in their colored hands. He gave them a brief smile upon passing, which was still not unlike Mr. Burr. Kind even to the fault.

Yet, was he really? Was he doing enough?

Shoving his transgressions into a box, he sealed it with his steps, as he knew where to go next.

The new barn. Sable must be there. She would know where Dyson was.

The smell of money filled the air again. A much stronger scent, one that Mr. Burr drew in. He sighed happily, before he looked around. His eyes glanced between hay and grain and before long, he found her, her attention gathered to another slave too.

“Maria, y’know that these here grains needa go in the hold now and—Massa?”

Mr. Burr stood in front of her and smiled. “Great to see you’re keeping up the harvest, Sable.”

“Yes, Massa, I do! Everybody doin’ their part in gettin’ all this put in here.”

“Right they are,” Mr. Burr said, leering at Maria, a short charcoal-skinned slave with her hair put into a bun. The slave bowed out and left, carrying grain to the granary where it was to be stored for later use. Mr. Burr thought to say thank you here, but his tongue refused to move, so he watched as she left them alone.

Alone in the barn.

Mr. Burr smirked.

“Great to see the barn is all filled to the brim. Guessing you’re heading over to check the granary?”

“Yes, Massa. Goin’ have to if we goin’ get all this sorted, y’know?”

Mr. Burr hummed an affirmative before adjusting his hat to flick off a bead of sweat on his head. “Well, I hate to ask you for somethin’, but if you’re willin…”

Sable gave a swift salute. “What can I do for ya, Massa?”

Mr. Burr chuckled. “No need to salute, just a question for you to answer, if I may.”

“Shoot,” she said, putting her hands to her sides. “You know I’m willin’ to help.”

“That I do…” Mr. Burr murmured. He gulped the dry air. “Have you seen Dyson at all out here?”

“Dyson?” Sable said with a tilt of her head. “Hmm…”

Suddenly, she gasped and gave me a great bubbly smile. “I know where he is! Dyson was told by the guard to take care of somethin’ in town. They gave him a pass sir, so no worrin’ there for ya!”

Mr. Burr felt a wave of relief surge through him. He let out all the nervousness through his breath, the exhale shaking him to the core. He felt lighter after that, enough to feel the need to keep his hat to his chest. “Thank you, Sable. You know by chance when he left?”

“Hmm… a few minutes past sunrise, sir.”

“That early?”

Sable nodded. “Yes, Massa. Said it was somethin’ that needin’ to be taken care of right away!”

Mr. Burr sighed. Should he possibly reconsider his plans then? He could wait for him and take care of the plantation more. But something felt off about this, and he didn’t want to wait any longer to find out why.

“Thank you, Sable. If he does swing by here, let him know that I’m lookin’ for him. Okay?”

“Yes, Massa. I will.”

And that was that. Sable walked off and out of the barn, leaving Mr. Burr once again to his thoughts. He really felt dependent on the both of them as of late, where it be for his thoughts to not go stir-crazy or to simply help him with the harvest. Yet here he was, pining for the negro when he wasn’t feeling in line. A shame… sort of.

Sort of. The hesitation was there. It irked Mr. Burr as he hobbled down the walk, his feet crunching against the gravely drive. Why was he thinking this way? It must be obvious, if he just took a deep breath: . . . . . . . .

Mr. Burr had stopped in the middle of the drive, panting heavily. He could not come to a conclusion, just a standstill, one where he felt invigorated to get to the bottom of this conundrum, but conflicted enough where he was wracked with worry—he watched as a fellow took his child out on horseback, which he waved in return, only to feel rejected as a light hearted reply was touted—would he ever feel like he was doing the right thing? Did he have to consult with his bible later or go to church?

He wondered what day it was.

Mr. Burr sighed. “Maybe another day of rest may do me well.”

“A day of rest, Master?”

He felt like he had jumped out of his own skin. Mr. Burr turned and saw Dyson staring at him, his head tilted, his eyes wide. He had licked his own lips and wiped his face clean of dirt, probably from what that horse kicked up—

“Dyson, where were you?”

Dyson smiled as he spoke, “I was out by Mr. Stockton’s. Ya know how he is, sir. He felt the need to… talk to me about lotta things and ask me about you, Master. Not sure why, it was nothin’ to me. Then I went into town and delivered a letter for one of them guards. Had to do it for him as one of ‘em uniformed folk came up askin’ for him. Said he needed to get suited up again for war—so he handed me a letter sayin’ he was expectin’ ‘em and told me to tell ya that he was goin’ for it and joined the rest of ‘em marchin’ up our way! So it was double time for me and—why are ya lookin’ at me like you seein’ two of me? Did that horse get me good or?”

Mr. Burr came up to the boy and patted him on the shoulder. “Welcome back, Dyson. Thank you for takin’ care of all that yourself.”

That toothy grin appeared tenfold on his face. “No problem, Master! I am happy to help.”

Happy to help. Mr. Burr shifted his shirt and cleared his throat. “Yes, and I appreciate that. You think you can help me more in the barns? Think Sable needs some more help with getting the grains in and…”

For some reason, it felt like God was making him pay for some blood on his hands. The blood felt dry though, yet the copper taste remained. It must be a sign that he has to pay him a visit soon, LORD be willing.

The trees here reminded me of back home. Whenever we had them, they were taller than everybody. They protected us in the shade where we had our breaks. Everyone would huddle underneath them since there were so few on the plantation, but it was always a great time when everyone was together, chatting about the goings-on. Felt like home, so to speak.

Here, however, there were more trees than people. Here, we were shifting through each of them, walking in-between bushes just to gain some ground or some sort of visibility. These trees were extremely tall, and their canopies hid us well from the sun. Only some rays pierced through, giving us enough light to see what was in front of us.

Besides the trees, there was a lot of wildlife. Around us birds were still out, and the sounds of bugs chirping invaded my ears. It was a whole new world, which scared me as much as it made me wonder what was around the corner.

Rainbow Dash was out in front, her eyes peeled as she led us through the forest.

“Hey, Dyson?”

“Yeah?”

Rainbow Dash looked behind her and smiled. “Enjoying yourself back there?”

I rolled my eyes. “Nope. Although this forest is huge.”

The mare chuckled. “Yeah, some say we would also be in the Everfree Forest, but we’re really still in the Gorge.”

“Everfree Forest?”

Rainbow Dash hopped over a large tree root that was sticking out the ground as she spoke, “Y-Yep—be careful of that root right there—the Everfree is a forest free from any weather that we control. Basically it works outside of what we know of magic, so we try to contain the storms that wander into Ponyville from there.”

“So your Everfree is like what I had normally?”

Dash stopped in her tracks. It was as if she froze because of what she saw ahead. However, instead, she turned around and looked at me, her jaw slightly hanging open. “Uh… what?”

“Yeah, the weather ain’t controlled by us. It just happens randomly. Sometimes we would get lucky and get sunny cool weather, and the next it would be hot and rainy, which could be a godsend if we were in the shade or in the barn and—why are ya lookin’ at me like that?”

“How does it work?” Dash asked, her head now tilted far to the right.

I shrugged. “I didn’t get that far in the books Master had. He gave me nothin’ to read, so I went over and grabbed one when he ain’t lookin’. I… learned some things, primarily words that I needed to know when goin’ out to help Master with some of the things he forgot, y’know?”

Dash snorted. “That guy still sounds horrible whenever you mention him.”

“He wasn’t that bad—”

“Bad enough to still hurt you and your family?”

I sighed. Yes, he was bad, and yes he hurt me, just not as bad as the others. “I guess, but he was the only one that had some faith in me. I rather pick him over any of ‘em.”

Rainbow Dash frowned as she shoved a bush aside with her wing. “That’s the point, he never gave you the choice to choose. But whatever,” Dash stated, groaning. She looked around and threw her hoof to me. “Come on, this way.”

“Where are we goin’?”

I shoved some of the branches poking out of the bush to get by it, while Dash spoke, “Near a watering hole I know that’s nearby.”

“Watering hole?”

“Y’know! A clearing that’s got a clean pond.”

I raised a brow, but kept on following close by. We made a right pivot onto a nearby dirt path that weaved between the trees. “Never heard of those. All we had was cotton, corn, and an oak tree on a hill.”

“That’s it?”

“Yeah, it was like that for the majority of the time. Unless we went into town, then there were a few buildings with people in ‘em. General Store and the Post were the places to be, and at night, all the white folks went to the Crossroads. That place was packed most nights.”

“The Crossroads?”

“Yeah, they sell liquor there. Although, Master went there to bring home more slaves.”

Rainbow Dash gasped as she nearly tripped on another root on the ground. “Dyson, you have to be kidding me. They sold slaves at a bar?”

“A bar? That’s what they call that here?”

“Not one that sells ponies! That’s so wrong on so many levels!” Dash shouted as she stumbled past another bush. She took a deep breath and calmed herself down. “I am so happy you are not there anymore. You actually can feel like you have a life.”

I blinked and nearly stopped in my tracks, but I felt that I needed to stay close. She was going headstrong ahead of me even after saying all that. “Well I am glad no one is gettin’ sold like I did.”

“If they were, they would be beaten up by me for sure… either that or turned to stone.”

“T-Turned to s-stone?”

“Yeah. Pretty deserving, don’t ya think?”

I stayed silent after that. I did not want to have anyone turning me to stone, and I certainly didn’t want her to think of me as a stone-cold-case.

The rest of the way there was pretty normal. Got nearly knocked off my feet by a branch that she nearly smacked me with. She laughed at me when I yelped—the mare didn’t even give me a heads-up!—so I glared at her the rest of the way. Needless to say, just a whole lot of walking, and trying to watch where I was stepping.

Then, the moment we were finally waiting for was in front of us, a large clearing where no trees were growing. Several bushes were still there, dotting the outskirts of the forest, while the grass grew tall. There, in the middle, was a small body of water. It was like one of those ponds back at home, but slightly larger. It wasn’t too deep though, as Rainbow Dash decided to prance right into it.

“Dash?”

“Come on, Dyson! Come get some water!”

Wasn’t going to not go in and join her. So I did. I slurped up some of that tasty water and smiled. “You’re right, this is clean. Tastes great!”

“Yep. Only we need to find some food, and fast,” Rainbow Dash said before she craned her neck back in the water. She took a few sips before continuing, “It’s getting late.”

All this walking made me completely forget what time of the day it was. The sun was setting behind the trees, and the sky was turning a faded, orange color. I looked around and saw that we were surrounded on all sides by the forest, with no end in sight. I knew what this meant.

“Not to mention we need to find some place to sleep too, Dash.”

“Yeah… and I’m not sure if we can set up camp or something down here…”

I tilted my head. “Why aren’t you sure?”

Her ear twitched as she turned around. “Well, there’s a lot of trees and not alot of space anywhere. This is the only spot, and it’s right where anything can get us.”

That was true. And with all those predators she was talking about earlier, I did not want to meet them anytime soon, if ever. “Alright, so what’s the plan?”

“We could continue a bit further through the clearing to see if it bridges into another one.”

“You think that could happen?”

“I mean, yeah, this one might bridge into a smaller one that has a cave or something—maybe we’ll find something along the way to eat?”

“You think none of these bushes have any berries growin’ on ‘em?”

“Probably, but nothin’ really edible,” Dash said, looking at one of the bushes by the pond. There were red berries on them, but they had a white streak going down the center of them. “See these ones here, Dyson?”

“Yeah,” I replied, looking at them intently. I was about to put my hand on them when she batted it away with her hoof.

“They’re extremely poisonous—they can even dissolve skin.”

“Wait what?”

“They’re called Burster Berries. Gross ones if you accidentally ‘burst’ one open. Saw a pony with a nasty scar on their body—her hair no longer grows back in that spot.”

“Wow,” I muttered, peering at the berry bush. “How do you know about all this?”

The mare’s eyes widened. “I… uh, read a few books.”

I squinted at her and scratched my head. “You don’t look like the readin’ type.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. Yet again, I been wrong before, so…”

“You’re definitely wrong, Dyson. I just read certain ones.”

“Are those the ones about livin' on ya own?”

My raised eyebrow must have made her a bit agitated, if her furrowed brow and brief blow were anything to say about it. “No, I read… adventures. Ones with lots of action and mystery.”

“Guess you are that readin’ type then,” I said with a smirk. I patted her on the top of her mane with my hand before scouring the bushes further. “If you like ‘em, then keep readin’ ‘em. No one goin’ to judge ya.”

“Then why did you just pet my head?”

“See if you were fibbin’. Looks like you ain’t, so I ain’t proddin’ no further.”

She raised a brow, but shook her head shortly after. “Just so you know, I am not the ‘fibbing’ type.”

“Good, because I need ya to tell me what these berries are…”

Time collapsed around us as we collected some food from the berries nearby. Thankfully, not all of them were toxic to us, as Rainbow Dash pointed out which ones were good to eat, and which ones were… not so good to eat. By the time we gathered all that we could, we had collected a handful of berries, which made me extremely happy, and Dash a bit puzzled by it all, her muzzle scrunched up when I told her she was wrong about the bushes not having anything to eat on them.

Most of what we got looked like the blueberries and blackberries from back home. They looked really delicious and I couldn’t help but start picking at a couple. That got Rainbow Dash’s attention, and she told me to share her some, which I obliged. We walked side-by-side as we ate and spoke, her body nearly brushing up against my leg.

“Guess we did find some food near that watering hole after all,” I said with a grin. I popped a blackberry in my mouth and happily chewed the goodness that seeped into my gums.

“It’s not going to keep us from starving though. We’re going to need more,” Dash replied. She sighed. “And we don’t have much time. We might just have to look real fast for a spot among the trees and—”

“Does that spot work?”

Rainbow Dash looked at my outstretched arm. I was pointing at a little raised section near the treeline that was still covered by a huge canopy of a tree spread over it.

To say Dash was happy was an understatement. “That’s a perfect spot! All we need to do is… well, make a shelter.”

“That’s easier said than done,” I said. “Come on, let’s see what we’re working with.”

We walked over to the place I spotted, a small little hill clear from any trees. Next to it, though, was the forest, as if it was watching over us as we stood on the clear land. Scattered around were tree branches most likely left by a wind gust of some kind, yet it still was mostly green grass, save for a small patch of dirt in the center.

“Lookin’ good. We probably could use the sticks for a fire…”

Dash nodded before picking some of them up in her mouth. She carefully placed her collection where that patch of dirt was and tilted her head at me. “You going to help, Dyson?”

I staggered over to her. “Yep!”

We collected all the loose branches around us until our pile grew. I even picked up a few stones at a nearby rocky outcrop and placed them to form a ring around the pile of sticks. With a bit of ingenuity and luck, we had the workings of a fire.

“You think this will be enough?”

I frowned. “Probably not, but what else do we got?”

“Not a whole lot… the sun’s pretty much set and we don’t have anything to protect us against the cold…”

“Then I guess the only way we goin’ get warm is by huddlin’ up.”

“Huddling up?” Dash said with a raised brow.

“Yeah, we can keep warm with the fire and layin’ next to each other.”

Dash’s lips formed into an ‘o’ before a slight red blush appeared on her face. She looked away from me for a moment, casting her gaze on the moon just now rising to the occasion. It crept over the trees, looking down at us while we were standing still… without a fire.

She took a deep breath. “Let’s just get this fire started.”

I gulped. “Sounds good, Dash.”

It didn’t take long for us to get a fire going as Dash was great at making sure I knew how to ‘rub two sticks together’. Regardless, I was able to get a spark while she was able to get the timber to light up. With the fire now started, we both sat down next to each other, smiling at one another.

“We did good today, Dyson. We should be able to get to where we need to be by tomorrow.”

“You think so?”

“Nope, but that’s what I’m hoping for!”

I rolled my eyes as she laughed. “Sorry, just need to make sure you’re not giving your hopes up. Can’t have that, can we?”

“No,” I said while snickering. “Not one bit.”

“You alright?”

I scooted closer to Dash as I spoke, “Other than the pain in my ribs? Doin’ great. You?”

“G-Good. Although I am in the same boat as you, except with my wing.”

“It ain’t infected at all, right?”

“I don’t know, it didn’t look like it,” Dash said while looking at her wing. In the light of the fire, her wing didn’t look too bad. Although it was still, well, broken. “You think it’s okay?”

“It might be fine… I ain’t a doctor though, and if I was back home, a doctor would be tellin’ ya it needin’ to be taken off or somethin’.”

Dash rolled her eyes and waved a hoof in my direction. “Pft… like I said, we have actual doctors here. They won’t go that far unless it is really really bad.”

I hummed quietly to myself before I looped my arm around her. “Well as long as I have ya around, then I be fine then, right?”

“Uhh, yeah! Totally,” Dash chirped quietly. She curled closer but laid her head on my leg. “You want to watch first, or do you want me to watch?”

“I can stay up, Dash. Get some rest.”

She looked back at me once more, an eyebrow raised. “Are you sure?”

“Yep. Been needin’ some time to think to myself.”

"Okay,” Dash said, before leading her head back on my leg again. She closed her eyes and hummed softly to herself. “Wake me up when you’re ready.”

That was that. The mare was fast asleep.

I sighed and looked up at the sky. Is this really how this is going to go? Am I really going to get out of here? Is it that when I fall asleep, I’ll be back at home? Will sis and Momma look at me like they just saw a ghost?

I gulped and looked around. I couldn't fall asleep yet. I had to keep a lookout for Rainbow Dash here. She needed me, just like sis and Momma needed me. I’ll wait until she's awake to think about that.

I petted Rainbow Dash’s mane while my memories kept me company.

Author's Notes:

I have to put my thoughts down in this author's notes, as this first section of the chapter is why this fic hasn't been updated in so long. It's actually one of the more uncomfortable chapters this fic has to offer, and you'll see why as you read it. However, I have to say, I have never felt this way about a fic before. It's odd, really, trying to figure out what the answers to a few questions could be, only to write them out through a fic instead. So far, the answer has been that the world was harsh before, and it is still harsh today. It just comes in different variants, different ways of displaying that harsh side, the side you don't want to see.

I hope this chapter makes you readers feel this discomfort that I felt too. For this chapter, I tried to make it read like a genuine thought-process, seeing into a mind of a person who is subscribed to a society of evil and oppression while also trying to understand why he feels so down the middle on it all. Hopefully I achieved that with this one.

Additional Notes:
1) Original chapter title was going to be 'Judgment in the Eyes of God' but I thought that could be misinterpreted easily with how the chapter starts out, so I tossed it.
2) Used a vidya about Neoslavery that debunks the Standard American History Myth of the Civil War/Slavery as another reference for this story.
3) Next chapter will be more focused on the present, but will still have a past chapter to start out with. Just as a heads-up.

ʙ ʀ ᴇ ᴀ ᴋ ᴛ ʜ ʀ ᴇ ᴇ

View Online

I don’t remember when I fell asleep, but when I woke up, I was not in the clearing no more. I sat up and blinked. I was back in that room, the one from my previous dream, where I met that woman, dark-skinned and all. Those water-blue eyes. That hair that went past her shoulders.

Where did she go?

“You wonder where I have gone, yet you have not truly opened your eyes to see me.”

I blinked again. There she was, sitting at a table in the middle of the room. Above her was some sort of floating candle that shined brightly. It was enough to make the room feel not so dark, something that was very different from last time. In fact, I could see that there were walls now, not a single window in sight.

I slowly walked over and asked if I could sit down. She gave me a nod, which told me all I needed to know. Taking my seat, I got comfortable, scooting myself in just to make sure I wasn’t appearing distant or anything. I don't want her to get the wrong idea.

“Don’t worry, I won’t, Dyson.”

I groaned. “Forgot ya had that mind-readin’ power of yours.”

The woman let out an airy giggle. “Only in dreams, Dyson. But this is nothing compared to what I can do. Still, I am glad to see you again, Dyson. How goes your quest?”

“Still in the Gorge, unfortunately, but we got out of the caverns. So it’s a start.”

“That’s good to hear at least. Progress takes time to nurture. However, that is not why you are dreaming of me, is it?”

“Dreaming of you?”

“Yes,” Luna said with a soft smile. “You summoned me here in your dreams. Your mind called and begged for me to be here. Dare I ask why?”

I sighed. “Not sure why I got ya here, Luna. If I knew, I would tell ya.”

“I think you do know, you just need me to… prod you a bit. As you know, last time you were here with me your mind was of ill-repute.”

I blinked and gulped. She was right. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Ma’am?”

“Sorry, Luna. Just a tad bit nervous all of a sudden.”

Luna’s eyes narrowed, and she leaned forward, her head tilting slightly to the right. “You… your mind. Has it rested?”

I shook my head, the words caught in my throat.

“Nay? Verily?”

“Yes.”

The one word echoed in the room. White noise entered my ear drums and I felt the table shift. It was then, Luna stood up and took a deep breath. “Show me.”

“Show you?”

“Show me your worst,” she said, arching her back as she leaned over. “Dyson, you need to let go.”

“That… that may be more than ya want to know.”

“Why?” Her voice hummed. The room felt hotter as she scooted closer. “Why can’t I see what you see?”

I licked my lips and I scooted away from her. “It is mine. Mine alone. No one else needs bein’ held by this. Only me. Nothin’ but me.”

“And why only you?”

She pressed on, her charcoal skin barely grazing mine. I did not want her this close, and I knew if I pushed her away, she might do something drastic.

Feeling an icy chill race up my spine, I hung my head. “Fine. Are ya goin’ use some magic thing to see what I remember?”

Luna gave me some space and sat down. “Yes. I need to see what ails you so I can help you. It is my duty, even if it makes you weary.”

“Okay,” I said, shaking as I recalled the memory by heart. I saw Luna’s body morph, and a large violet horn poked my forehead. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath—

The sun was just waking up. And so were the people too. They walked along the road while I, in my lonesome, stayed on the other. I did not get any mean looks, save for a couple children telling their moms and pas they saw the tall looking negro. Not that it mattered, they saw many of them before, just not a tall one like me, especially one that was alone. A runaway it looked like, maybe. Most did not care though to uphold the enforcement, but I kept my card on me in my pocket. The right one to be exact. Can not waste it.

Down this stretch of road was where Mr. Stockton’s place was. That is where I wanted to be this morning, not because I actually wanted to. It was because of an errand that I was told to do, not by Master, but by one of his guards. Said he needed to get a shipment or something from Mr. Stockton. The man had nothing to offer other than his money, and he did not care otherwise. I had to be careful here, I had to make sure he knew I was not no runaway.

My hand knocked softly on the door. There, the door opened and he was there.

“Hello, Mr. Stockton.”

“Hello, Dyson.”

“Got ya somethin’ from Mr. Stafford.”

“Stafford? Oh, one of my former guards! Must be a bottle of some kind,” Mr. Stockton took the package from my hands. He set it down on the table. “Look, come on in. You can stay a while, I need to do something before I get you what you came for.”

I nodded and sat down. I was in a small rocking chair. It rocked and rocked and rocked and rocked. Each one squeaked, and squeaked, and squeaked. Sometimes it ain’t. But it does happen most of the time. I found myself waiting for a while, breaking in the seat.

And then I waited some more. Where was the money he was owed? Said he was getting a little sum.

Then, I heard some rustling.

I heard some more. A voice, a couple. One was a girl, the other was Mr. Stockton. They were being rough. A cabinet was forced open. A piece of glass broke. A bottle crashed to the floor. And I heard her crying while there were no words coming from him. I waited as her whimpers died down. Then it was silent.

That silence, I remembered it dearly. I waited for something to happen. And yet nothing happened. Nothing happened. Nothing happened.

Nothing happened.

Nothing happened.

Nothing happened.

Nothing happened.

I had sat down in the living room, y’know? I sat down there and I waited. I sat there while she was waiting. Nothing happened! Nothing happened.

Nothing but the cracking of flesh. Nothing but nothing.

Nothing—

Every, single, pause, reminded, me, that, I, was, a, slave, and, only, a, slave, and, that, was, what, I, deserved, for, forgetting, about, him, when, I, was, worried, about, myself, for, nothing. Nothing, at, all.

After that I took a deep breath and Mr. Stockton walked back into the living room. He brushed himself off and gave me a smile. “Glad that you could come on by. Here, take this for payment. Tell Stafford that he is lucky he isn’t out there on the frontlines. Rascal.”

In my hands was a bag of sorts. Coins jiggled inside. Happy as can be. “I-I will t-tell him that for ya, Mr. Stockton.”

Mr. Stockton paused, briefly looking at me up and down. And then he walked away, waving as he returned to the kitchen.

I walked out, hearing her wailing while the sun grew older.

I opened my eyes. The world around me was once again in that room. The same one that Luna had kept me. Her horn was no longer protruding from her head. She was now the same as me, only she was now opposite of me, not beside me.

“I…”

“Luna?”

She hung her head, and would not look up at me. “I apologize, Dyson. I should not have pressured you into letting me see what you saw.”

It was my turn to step up to her. I got out of my seat and wrapped myself around her. “It was what ya wanted to do and ya only wanted to help me—”

“Yes, but pressuring you was wrong. Besides, I do not think I should ever prod further. Your nightmares are worse than most I have seen.”

“It was not just a nightmare, Luna. That was how it was. I could not do anythin’ to help her and she ended up—”

Luna returned my hug, wrapping her arms around me. “It is not your fault, Dyson. You must understand this in order for you to move on with your quest.”

I shook my head and tried to wiggle from her embrace, but to no avail. I sighed.

“Dyson—”

“I know, I need to. But this is mine to bear. No one else.”

“Then you still have not parted ways with your past, Dyson. You only have buried it deep within yourself to the point that you can cover up the pain. No further action has been taken by you to dispose of that ache.”

“Am I allowed to do that?”

The words had tumbled out of my mouth, but it made Luna tilt her head and hum to herself. “What do you mean by that?”

“Is it somethin’ that I am able to just… let go?”

Luna smirked. “Those are two different questions. Your first irked me, so I shall challenge your hesitation with a question, something that you will need to answer in due time.” She stood up and cleared her throat. “Look around us, Dyson,” she said, throwing her arms out. She twirled in place. “You see where we are? This room is not of mine, but of your mind. A cage of concrete, sworn to your torment. You view yourself as a prison. Let me ask you this: why do you view yourself like this?”

I was about to retort, but I kept my mouth shut. She said to answer later, as it is part of my quest. But I couldn’t help but wonder why I imagine a room without windows. Why am I like this?

I felt my cheeks fall. The corner of the room looked nice.

“Dyson, please, raise your head.”

I looked up at Luna. Her eyes were watering, and her mouth quivering as she spoke, “It is like I am looking at someone like me. Although our paths are very different, we are much alike: you with your life as a slave, while I as a captive on the moon for a thousand years—”

My eyes almost popped out of my head. “A thousand years?”

“Yes. I was put there by my sister and—”

“Remind me not to make your sister mad.”

Luna giggled behind her hand. “It would be in your best interest not to. But I digress, I had done terrible things to her and the ponies around her. My years of loneliness told me that much, but my anger had built up to where I wanted revenge, regardless of the outcome.”

She ushered me forth, her palm waved toward her. I followed suit as we walked out of the room and into another, where the roof was gone and there were stars. She looked up and wrapped her arm around my back. “You see how much company I have now? The stars no longer see a burden, and they shine bright. Let me ask you, when will you let yourself shine? You are no longer restrained by him.”

“I know, and ya told me that last time too. It… It just—”

“Takes time, I know. But I can’t help reminding you that you need to anyway,” Luna said. I rolled my eyes, which sparked her to continue, “You have time still, but I suggest not wasting it. She is waiting for you.”

“She?”

“The one that haunts you. She is waiting. But she is not with you nor does she want your pity—she is just waiting for you to move on.”

My eyes widened. “Even if she no longer can…” The words died in my throat.

“She can see. The question lies with you, Dyson. And the same for the answer.” She sighed. “And I’m glad that it does not end with you. See, like I said, I can relate to you. We are alike. Lashes burn, don’t they?”

“How do you—”

“Know?” I nodded. “Simple. When you are in pain, I am in pain. I do not rest until the weary rest. It is of my essence that I serve those who are in need, and until their pain recedes, I am awake.” Her eyes flashed turquoise as she continued, “If I am unable to serve, what type of pony does that make me?”

“Depends on who is answerin’.”

“Then what do you think of me?”

“Now? Selfless. Caring. Kind.”

Luna chuckled. “None of these bore within me upon my return. They only became… part of me from those around me.” She cupped my cheek. “Care naught of what she would be, lest you believe in ghosts.”

I sucked a deep breath, the icy cold sensation surged through me. “Then I guess I believe in ghosts.”

“Fools tales, they are. But I guess time will tell,” Luna stated with a shrug. She danced on forth and twirled around. She gave me a soft smile. “The pain is mutual though, Dyson. And I hope that when you and I meet for the first time, we shall discuss your place here.”

“Discuss my place?”

“You shall also hear that answer in due time. Now go. Wake up. Get Rainbow Dash out of the Gorge.”

“Yes ma’am,” I said with a proud salute.

That earned her a roll of the eyes. “We shall see each other again, I am sure of it.”

As the world around me crumbled, I wondered if she ever got away from Mr. Stockton. She was a great person. She was never loud, never wrong. She was someone who I wished would have escaped.

But if she’s a ghost, then rest is all she needs.

A Painful And Necessary Action

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As he walked away from the barn, Mr. Burr thought his hands were wiped clean.

Then he remembered what he had told them, his slaves, the ones that mattered, the ones who he conversed with at the barn, at the granary; and he realized that his hands were still bloodied, and he hadn’t said his hymns that morning. He wiped his brow as he let his legs carry him to his next destination, where his brittle curiosity ran wild, to a barracks that he had constructed with the others: using bare hands, hammering nails into boards. The pain that resonated marked his hands with bruises of various sizes.

That pain reminded him of its current construction: a rickety old structure stood before him, fallen into a similar disrepair since certain parts to retain it had become scarce. Farmers around town were in dire need of assistance, but due to the war economy not spurring enough wealth in Ripley, he hadn’t scratched the itch to reimburse funds into repair. He sighed, knowing that his equity was drying up fast, and the bank would be writing an unnerving letter soon, with his name emblazoned on both the envelope and the letter. Black ink would score the page, doubled with dollar amounts not even he could imagine paying.

Yet Mr. Burr walked. He walked to see this through. Not for himself, per se. Money drove him purely for his own benefit, that much was true, but his benefit also collected the dues of his slaves, especially those like Dyson, who Mr. Burr wondered if he could just stick Dyson always nearby and not have him wander off due to another guard’s ‘orders’. Mr. Burr’s orders were the ones with merit, not theirs. If they needed to order a slave around, they should consult with him first.

After all, it was his slave. Property. A valuable piece of property, one that he had purchased. One that Dyson arbored. One that needed to be protected. One that Mr. Burr wanted to protect too. But why did the ones who he had hired, the ones who strode on horseback with their weapons slung over their shoulders, why did they want to harm his property? They were here to defend it, not threaten it with violence!

Mr. Burr sighed as his legs had done the burning. A fence decorated this building, giving it that contrast compared to the leaky-ceiling and somewhat dilapidated structure known as a barn close by. In front of him was an old brown door with a shiny handle to boot. He did not knock, lest to alarm the guards of a slave being unruly. Instead, he kept his cool, took a deep breath to instill himself, and opened it with his hand.

The door creaked open, slowly inching forward.

Walking in, Mr. Burr set his gaze forth. Part of him wanted to check to the right, where the converted private office for which the head guard, Alston (the fool) kept himself locked up after his shift had been done. Mr. Burr knew he did not need to go into that office right away. The man loved to tour around the plantation, so time did not need to be so hurriedly observed. Besides, if Alston was in his office, Mr. Burr would have to confront him and that alone would be messy. After all, Alston would rather cause fanfare than do his job, hence the fool tagline that Mr. Burr believed Alston was owed.

Thankfully, the insult did not cost him any coin. Only quarter, which claimed a bed, a desk, a few other furnishings, which Mr. Burr had gathered for his previous head guard. The quarter was then transferred to Alston, who took it happily with a cockeyed smile. Mr. Burr did not favor this attitude, so he made sure the rest of the guards knew of this, not because he truly valued his efforts and wanted to brag about it, but because Mr. Burr knew it would alienate him from the rest—evil, yes, but collision in conflict was to be desired if the collision involved the undesired.

Mr. Burr steered himself through the barracks, walking straight down the corridor and into a large open area, save for some tables and chairs anchored themselves to the rickety floorboards. A much larger table clasped against the wall to his left. On it lay some papers, strewn to direct guards of their shift, and where they sign in and out for their days. Some days Mr. Burr wondered if his guards were honest on those forms, but he could not and would not dare to trifle them… unless it was Alston. That would be of use.

He walked over and scoured it. Henry was in. So was John, William, and Ernest. Alston had not borne his name onto the page, mostly because he was ill of will. There was also a smidgeon there that led Mr. Burr’s thoughts rowdy, but it was not something he needed to be privy of. He snorted, his hand grazing the list, before he sighed and turned around. Nothing was out of sorts, which meant the guards did care to some degree of decorum: tables were clean, chairs were pushed in (other than one toward the large table, which was scooted out a bit too far to his liking, but Mr. Burr knew it was a losing battle to a demon that wanted him to spring forward, walk himself to, and then indulge in shoving that pesky chair a little bit further in) and the back living space’s couch was not torn to shreds.

…

He stiffened up and left the table alone, much to his shaky hands that told him otherwise.

There was nothing.

Nothing out in the open.

Just pages of the old time shifts, and one of the new.

…

So, Mr. Burr tracked back to Alston’s room, the office that irked him on his way in. He picked himself up and, with a few large steps, landed right in front of his door. He knocked this time, just to give Alston a fair chance. When his knocks fell on deaf ears, he did it twice. Even thrice.

No answer.

Guess it was necessary now, to barge in, his hand clasping onto the handle he had made, and pushing it forwa—

A lock thwarted his movement.

He fell into the door’s embrace, only to emit a ‘oof’ that reacted to the force owned by his shoulder. He stepped back, assessed the damage, made sure to keep himself safe (of course), and then dipped into his pants pocket for his dangling keys he had reserved for this very moment. After fumbling and mumbling to himself, Mr. Burr felt the key he needed, swung it out, smiled happily, and endangered his shoulder once again as he flicked the key in, turned the lock, and—

Wrong key. The lock stood proud in defiance.

Mr. Burr chuckled into his hand. He could not imagine losing to a door on a lock, but here he was, letting it beat him. Wild too, as his hand searched again his pants pocket. A few more fumbles, some with feeling, he pulled out another key. He held it up, the key flickering in the limelight. Then he shoved it and turned the key.

A lock happily voiced its opinion with a resounding click! that freed itself from its own pressure.

Mr. Burr let out a sigh, one he was holding unconsciously. He flicked the door handle and walked in. He took in the room and—

He had to withhold his gasp.

There was a problem. It was a noticeable one that sat right at the desk that Mr. Burr had crafted for the previous head guard. The desk sat furthest from the door, looking out one of the few windows the barracks had. At its attendance sat the problem.

It was Alston, although his head leaned against the desk, fast asleep.

If Alston wasn’t such a no-account man, Mr. Burr would have no problem with him. But here he was, slowly tiptoeing his way toward the slumbering guardsman. He stood there, seeing that his desk was not a victim of drool. Instead, papers that were on the desk were neatly cast aside, something that had made Mr. Burr nearly double-take at first. The light made it obvious, though, as it peered through the window and into this very room.

What did make Mr. Burr double-take was a lone piece of paper. A note, aside from the stack, closest to Alston’s arm. It was mind-boggling that it was staying on the desk, clinging to life by a sliver of it being held by Alston’s arm.

Mr. Burr wanted to grab it.

So he did, gently tugging it away from Alston’s possession. He pulled it in the glare of the sun, and read it to himself.

He mentally groaned. The notes were garbled, but he did take a couple of notes:

Mr. Alston did report that Leo needed to be watched.
Another slave by the name of Ishmael was deemed as someone who ‘stayed by Leo’ as of late.

Those two points alarmed Mr. Burr. Maybe Dyson and Sable weren’t lying to him. Not that they would, especially of their place and wellbeing…

He shook his head, took the note, pocketed it, and hurried to the door. He opened it, letting the door gently click to a close as he walked out.

A clean exit. Alston wouldn’t think of a thing.

Walking out the door of the barracks, Mr. Burr grumbled as he held his hands in his pants pockets. He knew what the next step was.

All he had to do was watch from his perch. He had two jobs now, assess his property, and assess his guards. This felt… right. Right for him to investigate further. It’s probably what his wife would’ve wanted him to do, to find a solution to an issue that someone like Dyson wanted him to do.

He agreed. He agreed as he walked up the steps of his perch.

I woke up with a bit of a headache.

Last night I kept my watch as promised. Nothing really was worth noting. I had watched Rainbow Dash’s chest rise and fall, while she had her eyes closed, her snores soft. I also had watched around us, seeing nothing but the shadows in the dark.

Then I remembered waking her up. She had thanked me for giving her some rest and then had patted me on the back with her good wing. She had said she’d keep watch and wake me up when she was ready, so I had fallen asleep, my last view of her with a tired smile on her face.

Now here I was. Waking up while she was fast asleep beside me.

I rubbed my head and sighed. Better survey the damage. Who knows what would be out here knocking. However, as I looked around, everything appeared as normal. Our little campsite still looked the same, minus the fire in the pit we created. The remnants of the fire were snuffed out, not even the embers remained. Then, I looked down at myself. I didn’t look like I wasn’t in one piece. My ribs didn’t look so happy though, still bruised as before.

I shrugged. Guess nothing was lost so her falling asleep didn’t matter at all. That’s some good news.

Getting up, I stood as tall as I could without hurting my ribs, and stretched my arms and legs. Had to be prepped for today’s walk. Even if my ribs were still hurting a bit, I needed to just bite through the pain. Maybe I should try to focus on something else?

My stomach growled in response. I checked my pocket, found a couple berries still in there and ate them. The tanginess blessed my mouth and I smiled happily, chewing all the while. We didn’t have much left, so today was going to be another day of berry-finding and looking for other types of food. Rainbow Dash said there were some other things we could look for—I’ll have to ask her when she’s up.

Sighing, my mind drifted back to what Luna had said to me:

And I hope that when you and I meet for the first time, we shall discuss your place here.

Meeting someone of power. It was… worrisome, to say the least. Most men in power were aggressive, but I guess here they were nicer… and not men. I called her caring and kind, and she shrugged it off. Yet she said she was like Rainbow Dash: a pony. It… It worried me because she had seen what I went through. She—

When will you let yourself shine? You are no longer restrained by him.

She told me this. It bothered me, for some reason. Restrained by him. By his Master alone? Mr. Burr… he wouldn’t have kept me locked up!

…

Would he? Was that what that concrete hold represented?

I gritted my teeth. None of this made sense. None of it at all.

I took a deep breath and carried on, turning myself back to Rainbow Dash.

We shall discuss your place here…

What was my place here? Was it with her? Was it even supposed to be here? I had to get back to Mississippi! I had to get back to Sable… and to my family. I…

She is waiting. But she is not with you nor does she want your pity—she is just waiting for you to move on.

I groaned and sat back down next to Rainbow Dash. My leg rubbed up against her back, which made the snoring pony rustle, before mumbling to herself and going right to sleep. I brought myself closer to her face and saw that smile wear true. Good. I hadn’t disturbed her rest, even though I should—she shouldn’t have fallen asleep while she was supposed to be on watch!

But maybe it was okay to let her rest. She deserved it after going through this with me. Besides, she had more worth than me anyway. She was my guide, after all. And I was just a slave.

Slave's aren't a thing here in Equestria!

Even when she was asleep, she was telling me that I was wrong. And with what Luna said with my place here, maybe things could get better—maybe.

Guess I had a decision to make in the future.

I looked down at Rainbow Dash again. I was glad that she was around. I hope she’s dreaming happily.

Just as I thought that, she stirred. I watched as she yawned rather loudly, before closing her maw. Then, she looked up at me, her eyes wide. “Uhh… how long have you been watching me, Dyson?”

“Not too long…”

Her muzzle scrunched up at that as she slid a bit forward on her belly. “You’re lying.”

I just shrugged. “If that’s what ya wanna believe.”

Her brows furrowed. She pursed her lips before letting out a brief blow. “I’m… I’m sorry I didn’t mean to sleep.”

“Then what did ya mean to do?” I could feel my lips tug a bit up as I asked her that.

“I…” Her voice trailed off just as soon as she began. “I was gonna wake you up but… but you deserved to rest after all you’ve been through. I—”

“A-are you sure?”

She tilted her head up at me. “Am I sure?” She stood up and grit her teeth. “Dyson, I’m more than just sure. I just… forgot to keep myself awake. I’ll make it up to you, I promise!”

I blinked. She saw me in that way? “Okay…”

I was too shocked by what she said, even though she told me before. Why did she see me this way? I blinked.

She didn’t pay much mind to my shock. She was too busy looking herself over like I did when I woke up. She looked at her wing and winced.

“Any pain?”

She shook her head. “Just a nasty looking bruise is all.”

I looked at the wing and gasped. It had healed so wrong at this point—the area that I assume is where she had landed on it had grown puffy and quite yellow. I frowned, knowing that the way we met still was affecting her, but at least it didn’t hurt no more.

“At least it ain’t hurtin’ ya no more.”

“As long as I don’t move it,” Rainbow Dash replied lamely. She tilted her neck and cracked it, letting out a whinny. She smiled. “Felt that one. Phew!”

“You good?”

She nodded. “Yeah! Felt something in my neck. Guess I forgot to do my neck stretches.”

I rolled my eyes. “So, we needin’ to talk ‘bout anythin’ else?”

She snorted. “Not really, but I have to ask you something, Dyson.”

“Hmm?”

She was playing with her forehooves when she looked up at me, her eyes piercing. “Do you know what you’re going to do when we get out of here?”

I tilted my head. “I ain’t sure… am I supposed to think that far ahead?”

“No, it was just something I was dreaming abou—” She stopped herself by clasping her hooves over her muzzle, her eyes wide.

“You were dreamin’ about me?”

She let her hooves fall to her sides. “I didn’t dream about you—”

“Oh good—”

“—kinda.”

I raised a brow at her. “Kinda?”

She twiddled her hooves again. “I was worried about you. You remember when you told me you were a slave?”

“Yes… and?”

“I was worried about that. I didn’t want you to think you were still a slave.”

I felt my lips fall short. She was thinking about that too, wasn’t she? “And if I still see myself as one?”

“Then I’ll make sure you never think of that again by giving you the best tour of Ponyville ever!”

“Tour?”

She flapped her good wing toward me. “Duh! Ponies know me for my tours.”

“I ain’t sure if I believe ya, Dash.”

“You better believe it, buster!” She said, putting a hoof on my chest. Thankfully, she didn’t push it any further. She remembered my ribs, I think. “Once you’re seen by a doctor, that is. Those ribs don’t look good either.”

“I’ve had worse…”

Her frown glared at me. “I… I know.”

She licked her lips and looked away from me. What was she thinking?

“We… should probably get going now. We’re burning daylight.”

“Right…” I muttered, watching as she did a little stretch of her legs before she looked back over at me.

“Ready?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be.”

She smiled and led the way, galloping in front of me, rushing toward the forest ahead of us. I continued to watch her. She was so headstrong, running out there without any further thought. She was also so headstrong that she forgot to check behind her and—

She looked behind her as I said that. And she saw me waving at her.

“Come on, Dyson!” She shouted, beckoning me with a forehoof. “Stop goofing around, ya slowpoke!”

I furrowed my brow and rolled my eyes. Just as feisty as always. “Comin’!” I shouted.

With that, I ran to catch up to her. I really hope I make it out of here alive. Otherwise she might tell me I’m going too slow even in death!

A Slave's Freedom

by Soaring

Mississippi Blues

Doubt

Calm Before The Storm

Grocery

Behind Closed Doors

Bitter

Break 1

Ache

𝕭𝖑𝖔𝖔𝖉

Break 2

Mercy

The Descent

Careful What You Wish For

Deep Blue

Outsiders

Mutual Fear

ʙ ʀ ᴇ ᴀ ᴋ ᴛ ʜ ʀ ᴇ ᴇ

A Painful And Necessary Action