As the days passed, the luxury that was ‘normality’ started to once again become an everyday commodity for Equestria. Ponies were able to return something reminiscent to the lives they once had, a form of stability within the grasp of a population that had been trapped in a waking nightmare for far too long. This widespread reversion to the social state of things before the caribou, while guided by the forces governing the kingdom, was more something brought to be by a collective effort of the citizens of Equestria themselves. A desire of the ponies to maybe not forget what had happened, but to deny their oppressors from having any more influence over them.
It was not a perfect act by any means, as the stress and trauma of the Fall was not simply ignored, but with the distractions provided through work, hobbies, or spending time with loved ones, all but a few were able to suppress those bad memories in the darkest corner of their minds. Perhaps this perspective was just a convenient fantasy for the victims of the caribou, but using these methods to further escape from the reality they were a part of was the best way for some to cope with what the caribou had done to them. Not every pony was allowed to forget what happened during the Fall though, as some were the very reason the cervid invaders of Equestria got as far, and lasted as long, as they did.
In the icy, snow capped mountains to the north of Equestria, there was an isolated city hidden in between peaks that were as treacherous as those who resided in it. It was a location few had ever seen with their own eyes, but all in the kingdom knew its name and purpose. “Red Town”, the village that held those who had willfully aided the oppressors of Equestria, in one manner or another.
The town, if it could even be called that, was comprised of many small shacks, huts even, that were all encircled by a large chain link fence, the weaving of said fence so tightly knit that one could hardly see out the other side, not that there was anything to see beyond it besides the rocky cliffsides of the surrounding mountains. Atop the fencing was a coiling of pointy wire, the likes of which would dissuade any flightless creature from trying to climb it from one side or another. Only a single road led into Red Town, going straight down the middle of it, which the pathways of all the small homes joined with. At one point, this allowed every building to be connected by a single street, but now there was yet another fence running right down the center of this road, each end of it reaching the encircling fence around Red Town, cutting the city into two halves.
To anyone who looked at this location, from outside or inside, the purpose of it was obvious. Officially, it was called a detainment camp, a place for any who had adequate evidence against them that pointed to them working with the caribou to stay in wait until they could get a promised day in court. It was clear though that this place was indistinguishable from a prison, meant to punish any who had so much as submitted to the caribou out of fear, by keeping them in this frigid place, far away from the rest of Equestria.
When first sent to this place, the amount of red collars and traitor stallions that were kept in this place were upwards into the hundreds, who had to share what little housing was available, cramming themselves inside the limited space to escape the cold nights upon the mountain top. This was doubly so for the mares, as the central fencing was a divider that separated the prisoners by sex, with stallions assumed to have helped the caribou willingly on one side, and a great deal more mares who had been clearly marked by their former masters with red collars on the oher, indicating that they had at the very least submitted to the caribou’s will.
After many trials had taken place, the buildings had become more empty, as the amount of ponies held in this location became fewer with each passing day. The amount of stallions to mares had become more even, as mares had a higher priority when being judged due to the overwhelming amount more compared to the few stallions.
The extra space might have been appreciated as it came, but this did little to provide actual comfort to the residents of Red Town, when it came to everything else that they had to put up with. Shared toilets and showers, one per house, with no less than five ponies in one shack even so late in the Fall. Around the clock surveillance over the city, with equestrian guards manning guard towers, and pegasi flying overhead from sunrise to sun-down, only to be replaced with search lights at night that often disturbed those trying to sleep in the poorly heated structures provided.
The captives did at least get three meals a day, but for many of the males imprisoned in Red Town, who had gained much power and influence by selling their loyalty to the caribou, everything served was not up to the standards they had become accustomed to, consisting of simple, uncooked vegetables and hay. On top of that, since the stallions hadn’t had their horns or wings removed like their female counterparts, they had to have said appendages bound, with horns fitted with magic negating rings, and wings tied in heavy leather straps that prevented them from opening.
It was a miserable experience for any who had to stay there, and one that many didn’t think they deserved. For many a red collared mare, there might have been some validity to that sentiment, when the worst they had done was cave to the demands of a cruel master who threatened torture and purpling if their obedience didn’t meet their standards of what a red collar was. For the stallions though, while they would make the same claims of cruel and unusual punishment, their objections were much harder to defend.
Any stallion that had endured so much of a week in Red Town could be linked to having aided and profited off the caribou’s cruel reign without any external influence controlling them. Most stallions controlled by the Crystal Heart’s enchantment didn’t have the clarity of mind to take advantage of a regime that, by its professed doctrine, should have given them every advantage, and pretty much stayed at the same position in society they started at, with the rare exception like Soarin taking over for some mare who had been their boss prior. Due to this inhibition brainwashed stallions had to advancing themselves beyond their current status, any stallion who thrived in under caribou rule were the ones who had suspicion cast upon them, especially if they happened to rise up so high that they were on the guest list for Dainn’s version of Grand Galloping Gala.
While there were many influenced stallions there, like as Fancy Pants and Shining Armor, those few were ones who held high social status prior to the annex of Equestria, and when the Crystal Heart was destroyed, showed the symptoms of panic and horror that most stallions did when they were released from the artifact’s enchantment. If a stallion didn’t suddenly experience an avalanche of raw emotion fall upon them at the realization of what atrocities they had been committing for a year, then that was seen as just another reason to believe they had been well aware of what evils they had been doing, and were happy to do so as long as they benefited from it.
As the sun rose over the secluded town, and ponies started to exit the shacks to greet yet another dismal day in Red Town, one such stallion made his way to the village streets to stretch his legs.
His name was Arcane Writ, and of all the traitor stallions, he had perhaps been the one who had both gained and lost the most during the brief time of the caribou. He had been there the night of the Gala, an invited guest due to his contributions to the caribou regime, and an archeologist by trade. Not the adventurous fictional stereotype one would find in a Daring Do novel intended to entertain foals with overactive imaginations, but the more boring realistic kind, that worked in dig sites and found dirt-covered pottery after hours of carefully dusting around a plot of ground. While legends of hidden temples and untold riches were part of what sparked his interest in this field as a colt, he learned over time that the profession was not nearly as exciting.
He was a unicorn, gray pelted with a slicked back purple mane, who up until the Fall had made little of a name for himself. It was rather hard for any in his field to be notable in any regard, what with Equestria’s past being kept fairly well documented, due to a thousand year old princess around, and the added detriment of many current day cities being the same ones established centuries prior, perhaps having moved a few hundreds yards away from the spot of their founding over time. It wasn’t that there was no place for the profession, it just wasn’t seen as that important when most discoveries had already been discovered.
The worst part of being an archeologist in Equestria was that it was hard to find locations within the kingdom that held interesting findings. The only ruin that seemed worth exploring after a while was the one within the Everfree Forest, as the forest was mostly unexplored and was sure to have interesting things there that had gone untouched for Celestia knew how long, but as these expeditions were sponsored by the alicorn princess herself, a trek into the Everfree was never allowed, for the express reason of safety.
With places inside Equestria not harboring anything of historical interest, the only thing that could really elevate the career of an up and coming explorer was the lands beyond the Equestrian border. For Arcane Writ though, that was out of the question. Places like Zebrica, Yakyakistan, and Abyssia were full of savage races who not only didn’t appreciate outsiders encroaching on their lands, but were often believed to go as far as to eat ponies like some sort of monsters. Even Griffonstone, which Equestria were on friendly terms with, was nothing but a nation of greedy barbarians in his eyes, who would have no problem leaving you stranded on a cliffside if the act of helping you didn’t somehow make them richer.
As much as Arcane wanted adventure, he wasn’t about to stick his neck out to find some trinket. So even when he was given an opportunity to advance his career, he would often pass it up, which then the project would end up going to some mare who was more bold than him. In turn, when said mare got recognition they would rightfully deserve for whatever findings they risked themselves for, Arcane would build up a resentment towards them for reaping rewards that could have, and in his mind should have, been his. To put it lightly, Arcane was never happy to have some other pony’s name overshadow his own.
This festering ire towards his colleagues was carried by Arcane for years, as he created a cycle of his own failure through the turning down of assignments that went outside his comfort zone. With Equestria’s population being vastly dominated by females, those who would take his place were more often than not mares, so over time this bitterness towards his fellow archeologist spread to a general hatred of women, who he saw as having every advantage in the matriarchy he had the misfortune of being born into, despite clearly being given many opportunities to better his position and gain notoriety.
While indignant, Arcane was not stupid, and knew that showing his resentment would get him nowhere, especially if the system was rigged against him as much as he believed. He would continue doing work within Equestria he could obtain, accepting what funding the princess would give him, while quietly loathing that he would never get the respect and recognition he deserved. As resentful as it made him, he would play his part and reluctantly live out his mediocre and unfulfilling life, taking slight satisfaction that as he became the head of more local projects that gave him some authority over mares just starting in the field, who would join his expeditions and excavations for learning experience. He would make subtle efforts to make their lives as miserable as his for as long as they worked under him.
Things continued like this until one day something truly insane happened. One morning, while working on a site near the Badlands, Arcane Writ woke up to find the stallions he had employed to do the heavy lifting for the operation pinning down, restraining, and raping all the mare researchers he had brought along. The screams and struggles of the mares left no room to mistake this as something more consensual, nor did the cruel and sadistic mockery and heckling from the stallions as they thrust themselves into their victims in rapid, powerful motions.
The sight of it immediately made him panic, and in his fear, he ducked back into his tent as he tried to make sense of the situation. His imagination made him think that the stallions had been thieves who had just been pretending to be hired hands, so that they could steal whatever the excavation would uncover if it happened to be valuable. Then he remembered that a few of researchers were stallions as well, and taking a peek outside once more, the gray unicorn could see that they were likewise participating in the rape of their fellow archeologists.
Arcane truly couldn’t wrap his head around it, as his first thought was that one of his stallion associates was doing something Dr. Caballeron would have in a Daring Do novel, but whatever was happening, he felt it was best that he made a break for it - cut a hole in the back of his tent and just leave so he didn’t get wrapped up in all this. As he made his attempt though, one of his underlings entered the tent, greeting his superior with a ‘good morning’ and acting very friendly for such a hostile situation.
The gray unicorn couldn’t even remember the words his underling was saying, but he presented the rape orgy outside like some casual act of camaraderie between stallions. He was also treating Arcane with a strange level of respect, referring to him as ‘Director’, as other researchers usually did, and apologizing that they didn’t wait for him to wake up before starting. All this came to a head when the stallion said that he saved something for his superior, and after leaving the tent for just a moment, he came back dragging one of the mare researchers in with him.
She was Arcane’s personal assistant for this particular expedition, the pony who was supposed to be directly under him in authority, though Arcane never treated her as anything more than a secretary who would dictate his instructions, not even bothering to remember her name, as he had gone through many mares like her in his line of work. Still, this earth pony, with her short blond hair and golden fur, and green eyes partially obscured behind a set of frameless glasses, was not the kind of mare one didn’t notice. Her figure was toned, as many earth ponies were, but slender, and curvy in all the right places. The kind of body that Arcane would secretly undress with his mind when the mare wasn’t looking, and now could compare his depiction with the real thing, as the mare had the front of her button up shirt torn open, and her bottom half stripped bare.
The men outside had taken the liberty of tying her body up in the twine they used to cordon off an area for digging, with someone in the group having to know something about tying and knots, as they formed an impressive harness out of it that hugged her body tightly, constricting around her neck, breasts, crotch and hips, while leaving everything accessible, and binding her arms behind her back as well. The stallion researcher made no vague statements as he let Arcane know that this earth mare was now his to use as he pleased.
Arcane Writ was left speechless and stunned, unsure what had happened, as his mind once again wandered to the adventure books that lead him to this profession, and the possibility that his crew had triggered some curse left on the dig site that he had somehow avoided due to sleeping in. His body quivered, at what he wanted to call fear at the time, but looking back at the moment, he recognized it as pure excitement. With some hesitation, the unicorn gave into a primal desire to dominate this mare, to take from her a sense of satisfaction he had been denied by mares so many times prior. He would excuse it as him complying with the wishes of the other stallions to avoid conflict that would come from refusal, but as he pushed the mouth of the helpless mare around his cock, he knew that his actions were not of coercion, but desire.
Things only got stranger for Arcane as after each stallion got their fill of pleasure from the mares, himself included, they simply returned to business as usual, only with the mares now kept prisoner and kept as slaves. In bewilderment, he watched stallions continue clearing the site and digging for whatever remnants of lost civilization they could find, all the while poking fun at the mares for the misfortune that had befallen them by the stallion’s hands. Occasionally, they would take a break to go back and violate a mare again, but they didn’t appear to see a single issue in the way they were treating their female colleagues.
Yet, while Arcane could see the outrageous moral issues of enslaving his female co-workers and using them against their will for sexual pleasure, he didn’t refrain from doing the same. In fact, he spent more time forcing himself inside the mares than any others, as his duties as head of the project allowed him more time to do so. All the while he tried to work in his head how he would explain this to Princess Celestia once the mares were eventually rescued, believing he would be able to piggyback on excuse that whatever inflicted the other stallions had affected him as well, but within a week’s time, all of his mental planning was discarded when he had his first troubling encounter with a caribou, and was informed that Equestria was under new management.
After that, it did not take long for Arcane to put the pieces together, and learn about how the Crystal Heart was being used by the caribou as a ‘cure’ to relieve stallions of any thoughts that mares, or any other females, should be treated as equals. For a short time after returning to civilization, Arcane wondered if he too had been affected, as he had to admit that his actions with the mares of his last professional outing were not what he considered moral, but soon came to the conclusion that he was not for two reasons. The first was that he could even question such a thing in the first place, seeing as all other stallions saw the cure as what it was presented as, and the second being that he understood that Equestria had been taken over and occupied by tyrants, who were using their warped beliefs as justification to abuse and enslave every female unfortunate to be within their reach.
That knowledge should have been a heavy burden on the stallion, and while he didn’t enjoy the idea of a savage species subjugating ponies to their will, Arcane did enjoy that, for once, stallions, and him in particular, were at a distinct advantage over mares. The fact that he was effectively pardoned for all he had done at the dig site, since under caribou law he committed no crime, endeared him slightly to his new rulers, as did his ability to keep the golden-furred mare as his personal sexual servant, but this chance in sentiments didn’t come until the tail end of the caribou’s first month of rule. That really was all the time it took to become convinced he preferred it more than Celestia’s own brand of leadership.
Then one morning, a caribou messenger arrived at Arcane’s doorstep, speaking on behalf of Dainn. The caribou king had wished to start an initiative to research into the truth of Equestria’s history, which the caribou king had described as ‘cluttered with obvious falsehoods. He based this purely on the caribou belief that females could not be as competent, clever, powerful, or resourceful as even the dumbest, clumsiest, weakest, or most incompetent male, and thus any records depicting otherwise had to be incorrect. Dainn’s belief in this was absolute, despite the living embodiment of those records having ruled over Equestria for a millennia, and him personally experiencing first hand how powerful her magic was, even if the caribou had ultimately defeated her. Arcane could attest to many of the historical records being accurate, as while he never found anything truly groundbreaking within Equestria’s borders, he found plenty of old trinkets that backed up things that ponies already knew about their past.
As one of the few remaining archeologists though, since every mare of the profession had been reduced to the same positions of sexual servitude as every other mare, Arcane was practically conscripted into this wild goose chase to find some hint that Equestria’s roots were as drenched in the ideals of male supremacy as the caribou were now. Though he knew better, Arcane didn’t see it as his place to inform Dainn that his belief of Equestria’s past was simply wrong, not only because he knew this truth would not be well received, but because he saw this as the opportunity he was looking for.
Each stallion that was part of this project was given a small bit of funding, a permit to investigate any location they believed would lead to the ‘true’ history of Equestria’s past, and a short period of time to prepare before they’d have to leave on their journey. The other stallions that were part of this were eager to get to work, believing wholeheartedly that they would find something in their brainwashed state, as they were forced to believe that Dainn’s assumptions were correct. For Arcane though, knowing there was nothing to find that supported Dainn’s beliefs, he got to work on making sure he would get the results his other colleges couldn't.
While Arcane was not as accredited for his historical findings as some other ponies, his time in the field gave him a knowledge of the land that few other ponies had. He knew where he could find some empty cave, or abandoned ravine that would seem like it should have had something important hidden away within it, though never did. These would be the ideal locations for his ‘research’, and all he needed was to acquire his ‘findings’, and that required the help of a pony with talent that Arcane didn’t himself possess.
The gray unicorn sought out an artist who was willing to discreetly work on some projects for him, as well as travel to an out of the way location for a few weeks. Luckily for the unicorn, all stallions under the influence of the caribou had developed some seedy aspects to their personalities, and the first one of merit he stumbled upon was more than willing to be part of Arcane’s scheme, just not for the small sum of bits the king gave him. He needed the artist though, so while it pained him, Arcane offered his first possession in the new kingdom, the golden mare that he had been granted. The notion of possessing another mare was enough to persuade the presumably mind-controlled artist, and thus the deal was made.
For the next month, the pair traveled to several difficult to get to areas of Equestria, and using a book of old world art Arcane still possessed, started to create pieces that would match the artistic styles depicted, while adding to it the subject matter the caribou desired. The two worked together, putting all their effort into the forgeries, and by the second month of the occupation, the deed was done. Arcane presented some of the high quality fakes to Dainn shortly after, and as expected, the caribou king accepted them unquestioningly as the genuine article.
From that point forward, Arcane’s position in the kingdom skyrocketed. The other archeologists, who had uncovered nothing of the sort, wanted to join him on his next search for lost treasures, happy to work as his underlings in such momentous important moments in Equestrian history, even though Arcane had the stipulation that he was to be accredited for anything found. With each new exploration of Equestria always ending in more of his forgeries ‘found’, King Dainn’s funding for his projects, as well as his commission for finding these objects, went through the roof, as Arcane Writ became one of the few ponies he could actually depend on to get results.
By the middle of month four, Arcane had become one of the most famous ponies that had ever lived in Equestria, as every stallion wanted to know the unicorn who had discovered the kingdom’s hidden, male dominated past. Arcane received many invitations to high class parties, where he wined and dined with the upper crust of a caribou ran society, each wishing to hear the unicorn recount his adventures, to which he took the opportunity to exaggerate far beyond the simple lie of merely stumbling upon the false artifacts he had created. It didn’t take long for him to be seen as the kind of adventurer he always believed he would be as an archeologist.
Not longer than that, Arcane found a position among these aristocrats, as his money and influence got him a place in Canterlot as one of the elites. He was allowed by Dainn to buy up a sizable portion of land in the capital, not too far from the castle itself, that once had been owned by rich mares, and build upon it his own manor in which to enjoy the leisure of his new life. The stallions of the city, now having easier access to this important unicorn, would invite him to their homes, tempting him with gifts or the unrestricted use of their personal harems, which extended to their own enslaved wives. This was, of course, just a side effect of the enchantment the caribou put on the Crystal Heart, leading males to want to degrade their mares though sharing them with as many other guys as possible, but Arcane was so pleased that he was able to turn so many of these snobbish stallions into cucks because of it.
The gray unicorn eventually made up his own harem, whom unlike others among the brainwashed masses, he did not just offhandedly share with others. It was comprised of many beautiful mares of once high renown, as well as a small collection of zebra once the caribou managed to get their nation to submit, as the unicorn’s phobia of the species he considered ‘savage’ turning to fetish when he realized he could own them. With his home, popularity, and more mares than he even knew what to do with, Arcane had achieved what he felt was a perfect life, given the respect and appreciation by all his peers that he had always believed he deserved. There had been slight hiccups along the way, but in his mind he had managed to turn even those into more success.
This ascension to the status Arcane believed he always deserved was capped off with one final act of recognition, when a letter arrived a week prior to the anniversary of the old empire’s fall, within it holding an invitation, hand-signed by King Dainn himself, for the upcoming Grand Galloping Gala. Knowing that any pony of true importance would be there, and the delights that the party would have in store for its male attendees, no one would decline such an offer.
And of course, that was what led to his downfall. Arcane was rounded up at the celebration, and became one of the first accused of betraying Equestria, kept under close watch from the moment of his arrest, never given any opportunity to even attempt escape.
He had tried bartering for his freedom once Equestria became more stable, through several means, but no matter what he tried, something seemed to get in the way. He was willing to give information on other stallions thought to be traitors, but he actually had little info on others who were like himself. On top of that, when the Committee of Ponies learned from his former artist associate, whom had been one of the brainwashed stallions, of the way he had tried to distort Equestria’s history via his forgeries, their interest on what information Arcane might have on others vanished. The unicorn then tried to offer some of the old painting and works of art that had been missing, objects that he convinced Dainn to grant to him for his ‘service to Equestria’, a private collection which he had then stashed away in a secret location, and had guarded by several of his loyal zebra red collars.
The return of such irreplaceable items did make the Committee reluctantly consider cutting Arcane some form of deal, until said items ended up being returned to Equestria without his help. It seemed his trust in his ‘loyal’ zebra slaves was incredibly misplaced, as every mare Zebrica had sent to Equestria as tribute were actually spies sent with the intent of upheaving the caribou regime from within. So when news of the Fall concluding reached those he had let stand watch over his ill-gotten treasures, the zebra mares simply returned it all of their own accord, foiling what little chance Arcane had at even getting a reduced sentence.
With that option gone, the ruins of what he had thought was a carefully stacked deck he had created were spiraling out of control around him. He had thought he had one last card to play, but that too was devastated the moment the Committee’s roster had unexpectedly changed. Now all he could do was wait in Red Town until his day in court came, which he dreaded more than anything else. What he wouldn’t give for the caribou to somehow regain the foothold of power they once held, now that it seemed like it was the only way he’d avoid a one way trip to Tartarus.
Starting his day discouraged of the future, as he did so many days in this dismal, frigid town, Arcane went meandering around the limited space he had available. He was not the only one either, as others would periodically do the same, as their only other option of activity in this place was staying inside their shacks and waiting on the ever encroaching time when they would be taken to be judged for their actions. Walking around at least lets the prisoners’ minds focus on other things, like how miserable they were in the moment. Talking with his fellow conspirators was about the only other thing Arcane could have done to pass the time, but by this point all matters that were worth discussing had been, and had they not been the conversations with other stallions by this point had devolved to them declaring how screwed they were.
Some had incredibly valid reasons to see this as the case too, as earlier on the bolder stallions among the detained had openly admitted some of the things they did for the sake of wealth, power, or general lust. They assumed that the caribou would somehow recover, take over again, and such boasts among their peers would be recognized. Nearly a year later, those who did this and remained were not so secure in their actions, and were troubled that somepony might have snitched on them, the building pressure getting to them.
The fact that no one who left for their trial ever returned, and no news on whether they were found guilty or innocent, only added to the stress of the situation. The idea that the trials were a sham was also becoming a common belief, with the assumption that they were being held to uphold some public image of legal fairness, and Red Town was just an in between point the Committee used while they were figuring out which jail they would eventually send each prisoner.
As troubling as these presumptions were for anypony in Arcane’s position, he couldn’t find the effort to be bothered by it. His attempts to broker a deal for immunity or a lighter sentence had each been denied, and that felt like a bold declaration from the Committee that he would be found guilty when his time came. If that were the truth, and the unicorn was getting a one way trip to Tartarus or some other prison, then there was little use in worrying about it, as it would only be a slight downgrade from the punishment he was already enduring.
Making his way to where the houses ended, Arcane slipped back into the central streets, going near the dividing fence. He would make a few laps around the buildings like this, ignoring the cold of the town’s climate, in order to pass the time. After that he’d go back inside for a while to warm up as he waited for lunch, only to repeat the process as he waited for dinner. That truly was the limitations of his situation, as the Committee had not seen it fit to provide any forms of entertainment for the condemned, not so much of a deck of cards to play a game of solitaire with.
As Arcane made his way from one side of town to the other, trying to mind his own business, his movement through town caught the attention of somepony within the town. However, it wasn’t a pony on the stallion side of town who noticed him, but from the mare side. It took a minute for Arcane to hear the sound of approaching hoof steps within the snow, and even longer to see movement in his peripherals, but once that happened the unicorn realized he was being followed.
Before the mare on the other side, whom Arcane had still not taken a good look at as he resisted the reflex to turn his head towards her, could speak so much as a word, he already developed several assumptions about her based purely on her actions. Normally, a pony would never approach the fence to speak with a pony of the opposite sex, as there was a stigma for interactions of that type. It wasn’t forbidden by the guards, but it was a belief among the inmates that any stallion or mare that would desire to converse with one another would only wish to do so in order to partake in some unsavory activity with one another.
Arcane couldn’t begin to say how that rumor started, but seeing as many Red Collar mares were simply victims of circumstance, both during and after the Fall, it probably was something started by a group of them who didn’t want to be associated with any ponies who could be legitimate traitors to Equestria, which there was a high ratio among the stallions.
Though, while plenty of Red Collars in Red Town had been of the ‘coerced’ or ‘unwilling’ variety, there were also a good few who had been legitimate followers of the caribou’s ideals. Those who found the way the caribou wanted to treat them, and other females, thrilling and fun. These ones either saw playing the part of the insatiable whore as some novel means to escape the humdrum existence that was Equestrian life, or they found some advantage being slaves in a caribou run kingdom that they couldn’t in a pony ran one. Mares like these truly were not too different from any stallion uninfluenced by the Crystal Heart, fulfilling their perverse desires and corrupt goals, never being more free than they were within leather binds and iron chains.
While many such a mare feigned innocence, trying to avoid a form of imprisonment that wouldn’t indulge their hedonistic cravings, there were a few so thoroughly trained as slaves that not even the defeat of their enslavers would permit them to reflect on the wrongs they been accomplice to, if only through going along with their master’s every wish. Slavery was natural in the eyes of these Red Collars, and the satisfaction that came from being used was like an addiction. One that overcame any fear of being punished for contributing to the caribou’s corrupt version of leadership and order. They might have been a dwindling breed in Red Town, as so many went off to their trials, but on occasion a mare who was truly submissive and obedient would make an effort to let a stallion know they were there to show their support, in what little ways they could.
“Excuse me, sir,” the mare said meekly behind Arcane as he kept his pace, “I wanted to a-”
“If you’re looking for a new master, mare, then I’m not interested.” Arcane says, cutting off the mare before she could make any such offer, “Even if I was tempted, you couldn’t do much with this fence between us.”
“No sir, I didn’t want that,” the mare said, still following behind the stallion, “I’m actually looking for my old master. I haven’t seen him in weeks, and I’m really worried.”
So she is a loyal Red, Arcane thought to himself, still not looking back at the mare.
“I know you know who he is, because I’ve… umm… entertained you at one of his parties before.”
“You have no idea how little that narrows it down,” Arcane replied, having been to more parties where the host let him screw their slaves than he could count.
“Then perhaps you’ll remember his name. It’s-”
“Stop right there,” Arcane said, “Whoever it is, I assure you I do not associate with them anymore. Every stallion left over here has pretty much gone solo, and that’s assuming your former master is even among what remains. I would recommend that you forget about him, and start rehearsing how you’ll beg the Committee for forgiveness. It shouldn't be that hard, you’ve spent plenty of time on your knees.”
“Please, I’m really worried about him!” the mare said, rushing ahead of Arcane, and tossing herself against the fence to get his attention.
For the first time, Arcane got a good look at the mare, and saw she was another unicorn like himself, the bangs of her long, flowing, if a bit unkempt, mane parting enough in front to allow him to see the horn stump bestowed upon her by the caribou. She was a pretty mare, he’d give her that, with what looked like a nice, curvy figure with sizable breasts under the shirt and pants provided by their wardens, but Arcane had owned prettier mares who he hadn’t given the slightest concern for.
However, with her in his sights, Arcane did recall this particular mare once pressing her lips against his crotch as she throated his dick. He didn’t recall her name, as he seldom did when it came to unimportant ponies, but he did vaguely recall who she belonged to. Some earth pony stallion who was a nobody prior to the caribou, and only made it big due to all his competitors being enslaved, giving him a monopoly on whatever business he ran. Stories like that in the Fall were a dime a dozen, down to the stereotype of him eventually owning said female business rivals after the fact. This particular mare wasn’t one of them, but instead some prized mare he had acquired some time later, though that value was perhaps only held by her owner, and even when it came to his own feelings towards her those opinions were probably overstated.
“Ah, right, you.” Arcane said, at least giving the mare the courtesy of knowing she had been recognized, “I remember you, and your owner. If you want the honest truth, I haven’t seen him.”
“I know he was over there at some point though,” the unicorn mare said, “I’d see him from time to time, but he never came over to say anything to me when I tried to get his attention.”
“Sounds like he was abandoning you then,” Arcane said, “Or if I wanted to be generous, he might have been trying to protect you. You mares at least have the convenient excuse of being pressured into slavery, even if for you that’s not true. Associating with your former master would pretty much remove any claim to that defense though.”
In reality, Arcane felt it was the other way around, as it was more likely that the mare’s master didn’t want there to be any assumptions that he was trying to further control his prior slave.
“Want my advice, accept the gift of his distance. Keep your head down, and throw yourself at the mercy of the court when you get there. Then if you manage to get let go, go back to your old life and forget about your master.”
“I don’t want to.” the mare said, pouting at the potential loss of the stallion who had kept her as a sex slave, and passed her around to his friends and associate’s as a literal party favor, “My life wasn’t great before he met me, and I can’t think of going on without him.”
“Dear Celestia, you’ve got it bad,” Arcane said, the dependency of this mare on a male that no doubt saw her as another hole to screw beginning to annoy him, if only because it reminded him of the better days he will never be able to return to, “Look here, we don’t have any sick or injured on our side of the town, so if you haven’t see your master in some time, that probably means he’s been taken to be judged. If that’s the case, you’re probably never gonna see him again, cause if he ended up here, then odds are he’s gonna end up in Tartarus too.”
“Why would you say that?” the mare replied, her voice raising slightly as the idea of her never getting to be with or see her master again became a possibility to her.
“Because my optimism of this situation is gone.” Arcane said, “The caribou were defeated, all who have allied with them have been arrested, and the future for both is imprisonment in the darkest, dankest pits Equestria has to offer. It’s no different for me, and no different for your master. Personally, I might just admit guilt when my trial comes just to get to my final destination faster.”
Having given the female unicorn his sentiments on things, Arcane continued walking down the fence, heading to a house at the end of the central road, a building that at one point was home to the mayor of this village, before it became a prison. There was no reason to go there, as the building had been closed off, boarded up, with the outer fence grafted to the back of it with nails and staples. The central divider ran right up to the front, blockading the building’s entryway and making it part of the dividing wall separating the town’s parts, so it was the equivalent of a huge block that cluttered the already small space they had been given. It wasn’t as if it even gave some facsimile of privacy, as all angles of it were in clear view of the guard towers.
The building wasn’t Arcane’s destination, but a structure he’d have to pass by during his walk. However, he found himself stopping at it when he detected that he was still being shadowed by the mare seeking her master.
“Why are you following me?” Arcane said, the mare’s pestering getting on his nerves, “I don’t have anything for you.”
“But I don’t know what to do.” the mare pathetically replied, “I’ve been owned for so long that I don’t know how to take care of myself.”
“That can’t be the truth,” Arcane said back, “You’ve been here for how long, without male supervision. Be honest, you’re just trying to latch onto the first stallion who crossed your path after finding out that your last one is gone. You’re a submission junkie, and for as amusing as that is, I can’t take advantage of your mental illness with this barrier between us.”
“There’s no need to be mean about it…” said the mare, her own frustration subtly appearing for the first time, “I… just need a stallion to tell me what to do, and praise me for doing as I’m told.”
“Yeah, I got that.” said Arcane, not enjoying the mare declaring something so obvious, as if any pony would not notice her need for attention, “But what am I gonna do? Ask you to remove your clothes so I can look at your body.”
Perceiving that as a command, the mare gripped the bottom front of her shirt, and started lifting it up.
“Stop that!” Arcane said, his annoyance turning to anger, “There is no point in teasing me with your body if I have to go jerk off some place like some common cuck.”
Just thinking about having to provide himself pleasure, and having to seclude himself in a private space like a bathroom to do so, reminded him of all the brainwashed stallions who had to do such shameful acts while he had his way with their wives. Having once been at the top of the hierarchy when it came to the male dominated society, he would rather go without than to reduce himself to something so personally humiliating.
“Unless some miracle happens, and we both would be set free, I have no desire to be your master.”
Arcane wished he didn’t have to refuse such an eager, submissive mare, but there was truly no point in ‘owning’ her if all he could do was look. Further still, there was little reason to get into the mindset that she was his slave if he was destined to be sent to another prison where he would surely be close enough to her for such ownership to matter. That was assuming she wouldn’t just toss herself at the next stallion that came along, which her willingness to disregard her previous master for him made a likely thing that would happen. The thought of something that belonged to him, if ever so briefly, going to some other, lesser stallion was revolting, further compounded by the fact that he had lost every slave he ever had, some of which betraying him in the process.
How did it come to this? That he, of all stallions, had to go through this. After all he had to do in order to claw himself up from what he thought was rock bottom, climbing to the peak of success, and then plummeting straight down to depths unfathomed. At one point he was so powerful that all he had to do was claim a stallion he didn’t like to be secretly harboring views that mares shouldn’t be slaves, and not only would that stallion be switched into a female, but the former male would be dropped on his doorstep by week’s end to join Arcane's harem as but another sexual servant within it, reduced to a life of cleaning his sack with their tongue on a daily basis. This was not even a mere assumption on his part, as the very thing happened once to a stallion named Trenderhoof, a unicorn magazine columnist who like so many others couldn’t control his actions while brainwashed, and repulsed Arcane so much by his mere existence that the gray unicorn chose to ruin his life on a whim. Now Arcane had so little authority and respect that he couldn’t get an extra piece of bread from the food line.
The worst thing of it was that he had, in many ways, seen the collapse of the Caribou kingdom coming. How anypony who wasn’t being mentally manipulated could not was beyond him, with how much the caribou gorged themselves on the resource rich Equestria, as if they were a swarm of locusts devouring everything in sight. It would take someone as willfully ignorant as the caribou themselves to not notice that little was being done to replenish what they took from the ponies near perfect agricultural system, which they heavily disrupted with their anti-female policies.
Arcane’s foresight in this matter was part of the reason why he had convinced Dainn to grant him the works of art that the deer king would have discarded, as while owning these priceless treasures had a certain feeling of prestige to it, the fact that they were so valuable made them the perfect nest egg for him to sit on once his benefactors fell from grace. His plan was to leave the kingdom when the chaos of revolution started, wait until the dust settled, and then once the new rulers were established he could return and privately sell off the national treasures to whatever rich pony would be interested in acquiring a piece of lost Equestrian history.
His only mistake was assuming that the beginning of the end would be more obvious, that there would be signs of mass victories from those who rebelled against the caribou, which would signal the time for him to leave. The unicorn had gone so far in his preparations as to establish ties with members of the rebellion when one faction discreetly tried to recruit him, so he could get a heads up on when they intended to strike too close to his Canterlot estate. How was he supposed to know that ground zero would be what was supposed to be the most secure event of the year, due to the most unpredictable set of circumstances imaginable?
Despite accepting his fate, Arcane could never admit that it was any fault of his own that he ended up in Red Town. It was not his fault that he was somehow immune to the Crystal Heart’s magic. It was not his fault that he was made to follow the caribou’s laws and rules, no matter how much they benefited him. It was not his fault that in order to succeed under those laws, he had to appeal to Dainn’s desire to alter history to his male dominated vision. It was not his fault that all his contingencies against being caught up in the inevitable end of the Fall was brought to ruin by a single back water country bumpkin doing what should have been considered by everypony as the dumbest thing imaginable, just to protect his fuck slut of a sister, a mare who just had to defy the only person who ever tilted the scales of destiny into Arcane’s favor, and both of which he was convinced were inbred mud ponies who’s unnatural levels of earth pony strength could only be the cause of genetic mutation!
Arcane gritted his teeth as once more had to be reminded that his once perfect life had been ripped away from him by sheer, unforeseeable circumstance, replaced with the shittiest outcome one of his prior stature could have received. Had he the jaw force, nothing would have stopped him from cracking those teeth to fragmented shards, that was how enraged he was becoming from talking to this mentally deficient degenerate of a mare, that he only loathed because he could never truly have her. Repulsed by being denied something so close that he could literally touch it through the fence, the stallion turned away, ready to continue his uneventful lap around the city grounds, now so he can try and cool off, instead of trying to stave off boredom.
While trying to walk away, though, the stallion heard the words “So you’re seeking a miracle?” said behind his back.
The words could have been literally anything, as it seemed that the Red Collar wouldn’t give up, and the response was always going to be the unicorn stallion turning back around, and practically screaming at the mare, “Will you just shut the fuck up?!”.
The mare looked back in shock, confused as to what brought on this reaction from the, until now, composed stallion. The only response she could think of as the unicorn, who in no way could get to her, shot fear into her being was “I didn’t say anything!”.
“Don’t you lie to me, you irritating cunt! I just heard you say-!”
“Silence, stallion.” the stallion heard, ending Arcane’s rant abruptly, as a voice with no visible owner hit his ears. “Unless you want to bring attention to yourself.”
This time he could see the mare on the other side of the fence wasn’t moving her mouth, so he couldn’t pin the blame on her. “Who’s saying that?” Arcane asked, his eyes darting around, but seeing no other ponies close enough to be in ear shot, especially with how calmly and quiet the voice was.
“Somepony who can get you out of here.” the voice said again, this time loud enough for both Arcane and the mare to both hear, “Both of you, and more.” Arcane started looking around, trying to figure out where the voice was coming from, because it didn’t sound telepathic. The voice’s owner picked up on the stallion’s actions, and then scolded him by saying, “Don’t look for me. You’ll draw attention to yourself.”
“Your voice…” Arcane said, detecting something he couldn’t quite put his finger on, so instead he fell back on a detail he could, “It’s a mare’s voice. Why would a mare want to help any ponies of Red Town.”
“Because not all who served our masters were imprisoned by the usurpers,” the voice replied, “Now listen, both of you. Allies to the caribou are setting up an escape from this prison that will happen in three days. Inform as many still here that you believe to be truly loyal to be prepared, and wait near this building on the third night from today.”
“What do we do then?” asked the mare, who was finding it hard to contain her emotions, fidgeting on the spot, in vain of her attempts to not draw attention to herself. It was good for her that none of the guards perceived either her or the stallion across the fence from her as doing anything out of the ordinary.
“You will see an obvious signal that night,” the voice continued, “You and whoever you convince to come along will have to run towards it, where those like myself will take you from this place, to somewhere the guards will not be able to follow.”
“How do we know we can trust you?” said Arcane, “You won’t even let us see you.”
“You both can choose not to accept our offer of freedom,” the voice answered, “But at this point what do you have to lose? Those who are kept here are doomed to life long imprisonment, either in Tartarus, or elsewhere.”
“So it’s true,” Arcane said, wide eyed, “This is just a detainment area for those they believe supported the caribou.”
“The Committee of Ponies has not been kind to those they judge,” the voice explained, “Which is why we must band together, to release the masters from their own imprisonment, and restore Equestria to the natural order.”
Arcane had to stifle a groan, with how clear the holder of this voice was displaying their indoctrination. The mare speaking to him had no less a tainted mind than the one on the other side of the fence, in pure belief that the caribou were actually beneficial to Equestria. He had no idea what the kingdom looked like at the moment, but whatever it was had to be better than how it would have been if caribou remained in charge for this long. Only the most deluded fools would think it was a good idea to put them in power again, but this deluded fool was the only chance Arcane had to get out of Red Town.
The stallion would keep his mouth shut, for the sake of escape alone, but once he was out of here and in a position to leave whatever band of caribou followers this was, he’d leave them, leave Equestria, and start a new life elsewhere. Let the kingdom turn to rot after that, either through the caribou’s misguided rule, or a war that would lead it all to ruin. He truly didn’t care so long as everyone who participated in turning his destiny so sour got the end they so rightfully deserved.
“Remember, the third night from tonight. Bring as many as you believe you can trust, but be careful with who you tell. We would not want our plans to be foiled by loose lips.”
Believing that was all the voice had to say, the unicorn mare gave a nod, and made a sprint back to the houses on her side, motivated by the prospect of freedom, not only for herself, but for her master should the caribou be restored as rulers of Equestria. Arcane turned to walk away as well, not in as much of a rush to get to others to spread the good news. All that really mattered was that he knew about this plan to extricate prisoners from Red Town.
Arcane took a few steps away from the building he had been standing by for so long, but then froze when something dawned on him. The voice had said that they had to wait near ‘this building’ on the third night. Not ‘the building you are standing by’, or ‘the large building at the end of town’, but ‘this building’. That caused Arcane to think a bit more about the meaning of the wording, and believing he figured out something, he spun back around to the closed off mayoral home.
He didn’t even know where to look, but for some reason his eye landed on one of the boarded up windows. None of the windows were completely sealed, the planks placed over them only being enough to deter or delay anyone who might want to try and get inside, despite everything of value or use being removed prior. However, as Arcane looked through a crack into what should have been an empty building, he spotted an eye looking back at him.
Upon being noticed, the owner of the ocular organ moved out of sight, perhaps not knowing if they had ducked in time to avoid being spotted. Arcane had seen something though, and that was a bit of white surrounding the eye, at the facial fur around the eye’s socket. That was all he could really see before the figure vanished, and didn’t really answer anything about who this intruder on the prison grounds was, as there were far too many mares in Equestria with white fur patterns to try and deduce who could be trying to orchestrate this prison break, and that was assuming he even knew who this was in the first place.
At this point, whoever this benefactor was didn’t matter, and having seen them changed nothing. So long as the voice was being truthful, the unicorn would get all his answers in three days time, along with a means to escape the terrible fate that the Committee of Ponies would have prescribed for him. All he had to do was wait… and hope that the mysterious mare was not simply pulling his leg.