Trapped.
I'm trapped, but not dead. I never would have imagined that the earth ponies would have saved my life; I didn't know they had the decency. But instead of letting me escape to return home to my family, they've chained me to this post and kept me in this tent. Like a filthy animal.
...Perhaps I was too quick to give them any decency. I am loath to imagine what they will do to me.
Without my books. Without my freedom. Oh, Hesta, what's next for me?
***
I lifted the tent flap and let myself into the tent where the weatherpony was being kept. She'd been given food and water—just a little, and from my own rations, no less. I'd go hungry for a few days, I supposed, but it was a small matter in comparison to the potential benefits she might give me if I could get the secrets out of her head.
But first things first.
“Are you okay?” I said to her, loudly enough to get her attention. She turned around and looked at me, her eyes filled with anger and loathing. Honestly, I couldn't blame her. If I'd been kidnapped by the enemy, I'd look at them about the same way.
“I decided not to kill you because you're more valuable to us alive than dead. Do you understand?” She only kept looking at me, neither growing more angry nor abating in her moodiness. “Do you?” Still no response.
I tried another angle. “If you don't respond, I'm taking away your food.” If she understood what I was saying, I figured that would get her to speak. But she didn't change her position, didn't flick her attention to her food bowl or seem shocked that I'd dare starve her.
“...Dammit.” I hurried back out of the tent. She didn't understand a word I said, and I didn't speak any Highwing. If there was any hope of this plan bearing fruit, I'd need another option. “Does anypony here speak Unicornish?”
“I do, sir!” A young private hurried up to salute me. Whitemane, if I remembered correctly.
“A smart colt, huh?” I chuckled. “What brings you here among the army, then?”
“Help for my mother, sir.” He paused for a moment, then talking a bit too quickly, added, “My studies weren't earning enough, you know, and the army promised they'd take care of her while--”
“I understand, private. Don't need to know any more.” I gestured back to the tent. “Follow me. I need your help with a conversation.”
He saluted again and followed me in. When he saw the prisoner, he gasped and walked a little closer. Stopping suddenly, he turned back and looked at me; I nodded as a signal that he could continue. Quietly, almost reverently, he walked up close to the prisoner and picked up one of her wings. “It's beautiful. So complex!”
“Yes, well, that's not what I'm interested in.” I tilted my head towards her. “Let's start with her name.”
“R-right, sir!” He stepped back and asked, “Was ist yoa nehmen?”
The prisoner perked up at this. Puzzled, she replied, “Warm karzen kenner zees?”
Whitemane looked back at me. “She wants to know why you care, sir.”
I sighed and rubbed the bridge of my snout. “Because I'm trying to be polite. Look, my name's Amber Sun, and this is--”
“I-I'd rather she not know my name, if it's all the same, sir.” He translated my response and my name, and she sighed and gave a rather long speech in return. “She says her name is… well, it's a bit tricky to translate, language barriers, you understand, but if I had to approximate, it'd be… 'Morning Sky?'”
“Morning Sky. Makes sense.” Pegasi did love their cloud and sky names, after all. Meanwhile, I'd been named after the color of the sun bouncing off the wheat fields, while Whitemane… okay, his name was pretty obvious.
Morning Sky said something else, and Whitemane stopped to listen. “She says she's surprised you didn't kill her first chance you got, sir.”
“Believe me, I seriously considered it.” As Whitemane started thinking, I added, “Don't tell her that. Tell her instead… 'I know what you are. If you can be useful to us, perhaps my kind treatment will continue.'”
Whiteman hesitantly relayed my message. Her response was short and simple enough that I caught the gist of it. <Where are my things?>
“Safe for now. If you can be useful to us, you might get some of them back.”
She thought for a moment, then replied, <What makes you think I know anything?>
“Judging by how quickly you were traveling to Fort Anvil, I don't think you were heading there to trade muffin recipes.”
That got a laugh out of her, which surprised me. I wondered if Whitemane had changed it in translation. <Granted. Correction, then: what makes you think I will tell you anything?>
“This is just the warm-up. We haven't gotten into the advanced methods of information retrieval.” Whitemane translated this with a shaky voice, which disappointed me. I wanted to give off the appearance of strength to her, but if he didn't say it the same way I did, she wouldn't get the same effect.
True to form, she sat up more stiffly. <I may have been captured, but I am still a pegasus. You may do your worst.>
I sighed and dusted off my armor. “That's enough for now, Whitemane. We'll have to come back later.”
I held the tent flap open for him as he exited. He still looked shaken, so I asked him, “What's on your mind, private?”
“...Are you really going to… to torture her, sir?” he asked.
“If necessary… maybe.” I paused and looked out into the distance. “I don't like it, but she's a weatherpony. The weather plans she's got in her head could be of great use to us. If I'm right, it could turn the tide of battle, reset us back to our old path of victory! But that all depends on her opening up for us.” Whitemane still seemed upset, so I added, “If there's any other option, I want to try that first. If we go too hard on her at first, she may give us bad information intentionally. Or not. I don't know.” I shrugged. “This is all pretty new to me.”
“Me too, sir.”
***
That night, while the rest of the camp slept and prepared for the next attack, I lay on my cot, thinking. Part of it was hunger—it was hard to sleep on an empty stomach—but another part was concern. The weatherpony—no, Morning Sky—was in an undoubtedly unique position. We earth ponies never interacted with pegasi, save for on the field of battle. And she was deep in enemy territory, without kith or kin to help her. But if she could help us, I could help her, and we could end this whole charade!
As I lay there, I began to hear quiet singing emanating from the tent next door. It didn't sound like traditional earth pony songs, all raucous and energetic. No, the song I was hearing had a solemn, almost plaintive melody to it. I roused myself, threw on my coat, and entered the tent. Morning Sky was sitting down on the ground, rocking back and forth as she sang. I wished I could understand the lyrics.
“Hey!” She stopped, then turned to stare at me. “Don't you dare sing. You'll wake the camp up.”
She waited until I was done speaking, paused a beat, then continued to sing. I stepped closer and menaced her, attempting to convey my intent through my tone. “Stop that! Now's really not the time. I'll see to it you're punished.”
She looked me in the eyes; for a moment, she finally seemed cowed. She tipped her head down, and the verse she had been singing dribbled away into the night. As I turned to go back to my tent, she started humming, exactly the tune from before. I growled and spun around, but she only stared at me again and kept humming. With a sigh, I went back to my tent and laid back on my cot. Her song was… actually quite calming, now that I think about it. Despite the pains in my stomach, I began to drift away into sleep.
Back then, dreams were not as they are now. Before The Lady, dreams were fickle wisps of color and sound, errant pulses flickering through our brains. I dreamed of the distant orange of the wheat fields back home, the black-gray smoke puffing out of the chimneys like an old man on his pipe. I dreamed of my wife's voice, soothing and calm at the end of the day, and the restless creaking of the crickets in the forest behind the estate. Or perhaps I've forgotten what I really dreamed of, and I recall calm, happy dreams because I imagine they must have been so on that calm, happy night. Nevertheless, I slept well, and undoubtedly dreamed well, and I worried not about the state of the army or the weatherpony for the rest of the night.