//------------------------------// // Ache // Story: A Slave's Freedom // by Soaring //------------------------------// “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.