A Slave's Freedom

by Soaring

Deep Blue

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.

Author's Note:

Take me back to the light. I know you were way too bright for me.

Welcome back, everyone.

Comments

[Soaring]

Two years later, and here I am. Hope you all enjoy the update!

[Venerable Ro]

11193271

Heavens, two years already? Where does the time go?

Good to have you back!

[Soaring]

11193286
Good to see you as well Venerable! And yeah I realized it was nearly two years (a couple months out) since I last updated this. Genuinely thought I updated this last year but I must've imagined it. Going to try and slam some of this fic out since I have a lot of old idea prompts from my original outline. So expect more updates in the future!

[Muggonny]

This gives me nostalgia.

[Silentwoodfire]

11193271
Nice update!

[Six String]

*Snoot Boops* You have a new reader.

images-wixmp-ed30a86b8c4ca887773594c2.wixmp.com/f/c5f88540-c923-4bda-80b1-2d998a1f2f54/deyia74-d17a3520-fcf8-45d4-a9e7-ba3f6375da47.jpg/v1/fill/w_1343,h_700,q_70,strp/six_string_in_his_wonderbolt_suit__and_goggles_by_sillyfillyboi_deyia74-350t-2x.jpg?token=eyJ0eXAiOiJKV1QiLCJhbGciOiJIUzI1NiJ9.eyJzdWIiOiJ1cm46YXBwOjdlMGQxODg5ODIyNjQzNzNhNWYwZDQxNWVhMGQyNmUwIiwiaXNzIjoidXJuOmFwcDo3ZTBkMTg4OTgyMjY0MzczYTVmMGQ0MTVlYTBkMjZlMCIsIm9iaiI6W1t7ImhlaWdodCI6Ijw9MTAwMSIsInBhdGgiOiJcL2ZcL2M1Zjg4NTQwLWM5MjMtNGJkYS04MGIxLTJkOTk4YTFmMmY1NFwvZGV5aWE3NC1kMTdhMzUyMC1mY2Y4LTQ1ZDQtYTllNy1iYTNmNjM3NWRhNDcuanBnIiwid2lkdGgiOiI8PTE5MjAifV1dLCJhdWQiOlsidXJuOnNlcnZpY2U6aW1hZ2Uub3BlcmF0aW9ucyJdfQ.TnJPV4soMxhWXYl6yx_tDySqtfrYI8Hwg3siKZRYJoE

[Soaring]

11193332
Thank you! Glad you enjoyed it!
11193298
I wonder why...
11193342
Thank you!

[HB_DS2013]

It's been a while. Good to have you back

[Six String]

11193365 You're welcome, silly Pony.

images-wixmp-ed30a86b8c4ca887773594c2.wixmp.com/f/c5f88540-c923-4bda-80b1-2d998a1f2f54/de4var4-37d0916b-b1da-4f29-be2c-178d798d8dc6.png/v1/fit/w_512,h_512,q_70,strp/_nb__magik_pony_stallion_avatar__side_view__by_sillyfillyboi_de4var4-375w-2x.jpg?token=eyJ0eXAiOiJKV1QiLCJhbGciOiJIUzI1NiJ9.eyJzdWIiOiJ1cm46YXBwOjdlMGQxODg5ODIyNjQzNzNhNWYwZDQxNWVhMGQyNmUwIiwiaXNzIjoidXJuOmFwcDo3ZTBkMTg4OTgyMjY0MzczYTVmMGQ0MTVlYTBkMjZlMCIsIm9iaiI6W1t7ImhlaWdodCI6Ijw9NTEyIiwicGF0aCI6IlwvZlwvYzVmODg1NDAtYzkyMy00YmRhLTgwYjEtMmQ5OThhMWYyZjU0XC9kZTR2YXI0LTM3ZDA5MTZiLWIxZGEtNGYyOS1iZTJjLTE3OGQ3OThkOGRjNi5wbmciLCJ3aWR0aCI6Ijw9NTEyIn1dXSwiYXVkIjpbInVybjpzZXJ2aWNlOmltYWdlLm9wZXJhdGlvbnMiXX0.WjgVLP2oOrsdP2bgTQ5Xf-jUR5qCIKD_gZ9HB472pog

[FamousLastWords]

11193843

Since we're sharing cursed images:
derpicdn.net/img/2022/2/26/2814810/large.png

[TheDriderPony]

Had to refresh my memory with a quick reread, but it's nice to see this interesting story return. Feels like we might be reaching the endgame.

[TCC56]

Oh, wonderful! Glad to see this continuing.

[redandready45]

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.

These paragraphs gave me chills. Also proof that this story is underrated.

Hope you write more.

[Soaring]

11193426
11194773
Happy to see the both of you back on the fic! And yep it's continuing, drafting up the next two chapters now. Hoping to release one today since I am not stressed/not working today.

11194730
You and I both, although my quick re-read was separated into two days.

Glad to see you back, TheDriderPony! Hope you're doing well.

11199705
Happy to see you redandready! I will definitely be writing more of this, so don't worry. That section was very hard to write. I had to figure out how I wanted Dyson to sound, but I was struggling to write it since I had been away from the fic for so long. Went through about three variations of that section before I settled with those two paragraphs. Reading it out loud just sounded better to read than the other ones I had.