Rescue Process (8) (Patreon)

Lincoln tended to the wounded by the fire. 

They made an impressive bonfire that night—bright enough to be seen for dozens of miles, and warm enough to keep off even the fiercest alpine chill.

Not all needed its warmth equally, of course. Almost everyone had taken some injury in the fighting, be it small or large. Some had been scratched, others bitten, and an unlucky few had taken arrows. 

Every time she saw them, Lincoln felt a brief spasm of guilt. She wanted to fight, wanted to be right there at the front with Thomas and Winston and the others! She didn’t need people dying for her! 

She didn’t envy what happened to those who fought. She carried boiling water back and forth to their makeshift medical tent, where the single trained nurse stitched and bandaged the wounded as best she could.

Most of the ponies hadn’t killed before, judging by their reactions. With the danger now fading into the background, the feeling of excitement and anger became solemn and pained. Lincoln wouldn’t be the only one having nightmares about this.

Worst by far were the native ponies, gathered in their small group on the opposite side of the campfire. Only those who had fought with the former humans slept near them—the rest kept away from them with more fear than they’d ever shown the enslaving dogs.

“We’ll hike for that town tomorrow,” Shauna was saying, speaking in hushed voices with an older unicorn. The former unity of the slave camp was gone—Marked Pattern remained tense every second he looked at Shauna, his horn in a constant state of illumination. Did he expect her to turn on the ponies next?

“We’ll need your help to carry some of the injured. I have three who can’t walk. I don’t like their odds of making it through tonight without an infection either. Does your world have antibiotics?”

Pattern shifted nervously, his tail flicking sharply back and forth. “It would be better to wait for the princess. She will find us now for certain—airships will see, if Princess Luna does not. Many will have nightmares tonight.”

“Can’t wait on that. Even if it’s true, I know a few dogs escaped. If they catch up with the Alpha, she’ll be back with the others. They’ll want revenge, and we’re in no state to fight another battle.”

He shuddered. “Revenge, yes. You killed them.”

“They killed you!” she shot back, so loud the unicorn recoiled from her. “Remember Seaside last month? Couldn’t work after he broke his leg. Or Miriam before that? She got sick from those rotten apples, and they wouldn’t let us care for her. How many before I got here? Do you even know?”

The stallion lowered his head, ears folding backward. “There are words spoken of your kind, those who come from outside.” He turned away from her. “The diamond dogs should have heeded these warnings. I thought the stories were wrong.”

“If the stories stop them from enslaving ponies next time, then maybe our reputation is a good thing,” Winston said. “You’re welcome for saving your asses, by the way.”

The ponies didn’t react to that, except maybe to shuffle further away from their group.

Except for Night Spiral. Despite her reluctance about violence, she had joined the fight alongside Lincoln, if only as another providing support from the rear. The ponies didn’t seem to care—any who had joined the fighting was now unwelcome in their fearful herd.

Lincoln made her way over, shaking a fresh dusting of snow from her wings. The bat sat as close to the fire as she could get without a lung full of smoke, and even then, she still shivered. She kept her wings out to either side, where they could soak up the most heat.

“Lin? Where’s your friend?”

She settled down beside the bat, a little further from the fire. For whatever reason, the pegasi and earth ponies were more resilient to the cold than the rest. So long as she wasn’t wet, Lincoln felt comfortable. All those little white feathers were good for more than just falling out all over their bed and embarrassing her. 

“Sleeping. Never seen him this tired before. Way more than the work they made us do.” 

The bat looked up. Her eyes narrowed into slits, reflecting the moonlight overhead. Too bad Lincoln’s new eyes couldn’t be that cool. “I knew we were gonna fight. What they did—do ponies do that kind of thing where you come from? Kill?”

Lincoln shifted her wings, looking back at the fire. “Sometimes there’s good reason to fight. Like what they were doing to us in there. Nobody should want to fight. But if that’s what it takes to be free, then...”

Night fell silent. They watched the fire, crackling and smoking with its fuel of wet wood. At least they had magic to get the thing lit. Lincoln wasn’t sure if the bat was even still awake until she finally spoke again.

“There are stories about monsters who kill... old wars and stuff. Ponies died in the Lunar Rebellion, everypony knows that. Hard to believe there could be ponies like that still around.” 

She turned sharply towards Lincoln, turning her head to the side with one twist of a bat wing. “If you knew your magic, would you have used it too? Would you kill?”

She met the bat’s eyes with an intense stare of her own. “Those dogs did it first—working us to death, letting ponies starve if they couldn’t work. If someone tries to kill me, yeah. I’d defend myself. Even if it meant killing someone. Whether I’d be able to live with myself after, that I’m not sure. But because I did it, at least I’d get to find out.”

Night watched her for a few seconds more, then turned away. “You sound like you’ve thought about it before. Did your world have more monsters than Equestria?”

Lincoln shrugged her wings. “I haven’t seen Equestria. I’ve been trapped with monsters since I got here, remember? As far as I know, there’s nothing else.”

The bat embraced her with a wing. “It’s not supposed to be like this. I guess... if there’s anything good from all this fighting... other ponies won’t get captured like we were. Maybe you were right—maybe we would’ve been waiting for Equestria to save us forever. Now we don’t have to wait anymore.”

She stood up, slinking off to find somewhere to sleep. Lincoln remained by the fire a little longer, occasionally tossing in another log from their pile of firewood. She was free—but not herself anymore. 

They said the Equestrians could help; they can send us home. It won’t take them much longer.

She found Thomas on the other side of camp, resting in an oversized pile of threadbare blankets. Even taking all the supplies they could find from the abandoned dogs’ barracks left their group of escaping ponies ill-prepared for a long journey. 

Even with all the blankets, Thomas was shivering, shifting uneasily in his sleep.

She sighed, then crawled in beside him. She’d need all the strength she had for whatever the sun would bring.

“Thanks for saving my life,” she whispered. Whatever discomfort she once felt from getting close to him, persistent exposure had worn it all away. Desperate conditions made that embarrassment secondary to her need for safety and warmth. 

Thomas needed the warmth more than she did tonight. 

The unicorn grunted, muttering something that wasn’t quite any specific word. 

“Sorry.” She fell silent, staring up at the swirling, starry night. 

She must’ve slept at some point, though she couldn’t exactly say when. Despite the horrors of that day, no nightmares came for her. She woke with Shauna’s command, stirring to sore, stiff wakefulness. 

It wasn’t so bad, really. She was somewhere warm, and for the first time in weeks the light on her face didn’t come from a unicorn’s spell. There was real sky up there—real sunlight.

We’re free.

Thomas sat up next to her, freeing himself from their shared sleeping spot. Probably the last time they would have to do this—once they were back in civilization, they could go back to having their own stuff again. And hopefully, back to their own world not long after.

“We move in ten!” Shauna said, a command meant for both halves of the camp. “I’m not leaving you ponies behind for the dogs to find. You don’t have to like us, but we’re still rescuing you.” 

There wasn’t much camp to take down, or tools to dismantle it. Ponies shoved all they could into a few makeshift packs, storing the blankets and meager supplies.

They couldn’t even have a breakfast of grass that morning, not with the ground covered entirely in snow. 

They would have to make do with melting some of it for water to drink, and the last of the fruit scavenged from their captors’ barracks. 

“We shouldn’t have to continue very far...” [unicorn] said. “There is a village at the base of the mountains. Too small for a train station, but we should be able to send a pegasus messenger for Canterlot. We can wait there for rescue.”

The way he said “we” made Lincoln doubt how much of the group might be rescued then. Were their former companions having second thoughts about offering help?

Soon they were moving, separated into two distinct groups. The former humans led, carrying all their makeshift weapons along with the scavenged supplies. A smaller group of ponies followed behind, perhaps fifty feet back. 

Thomas glanced behind them as they set off, his tail flicking back and forth in agitation. “Don’t want to join us, but too afraid to go off on their own. No wonder they didn’t do anything to escape all this time.”

Lincoln nudged him with her wing, hard enough to make him stumble. “They’re not all like that. We had help.” 

Less than a fourth of the native ponies had joined them in the fight, and those same ponies walked with them now. At least Lincoln’s friends weren’t too good for her anymore.

“I’m gonna scout ahead,” Night called. She galloped past Shauna spreading both wings over the snow.

They were obviously much too small to carry an animal her size and weight, just like Lincoln’s. The native ponies occasionally hung in the air for a little longer than they should, almost seeming to glide through the underground tunnels of their captivity. But nothing like flight!

Shauna thought so too, because she gasped, reaching after the fleeing horse. “Wait!”

Too slow. But Night Spiral didn’t stumble off the narrow alpine trail. Her wings caught the air, and she lifted upward, scattering snow beneath her. 

Lincoln stopped in her tracks, staring in utter shock at the airborne horse. All their expectations were for nothing. Ponies could fly!

The bat wasn’t graceful exactly—those wings were built for short bursts of speed, and maneuverability in tight spaces.

Lin’s wings opened all the way, and muscles she’d barely used since her transformation stretched and strained. 

“Don’t even think about it.” Thomas rested a hoof on her chest, pushing her gently back. “She grew up doing this. How about you learn on flat ground.”

She nodded, barely even seeing him anymore. “Learn. I can do that now. No more sorting ore.”

“No more sorting ore,” he agreed. “But you might not have wings for much longer, either. How fast can you learn?”

“Right.” Lincoln folded both wings sharply to her side, so fast they ached. It didn’t matter how badly she wanted to try her flight, how much she longed to follow Night up there above the mountains. 

They’d escaped. They would be going home soon, assuming Equestria was as helpful as the natives said. She’d be going back to her old life, and her old self.

“Doesn’t seem that hard,” Ethan said. He jumped up and down in place beside Lincoln, flapping both wings in irregular, rapid rhythm. 

He fluttered wildly, shedding a few loose white feathers. For a second, Lincoln almost thought he’d do it. Then he dropped, sinking into the snow. He groaned, struggling out of a snowdrift. “Okay... maybe not.”

“Yeah.” Lin trotted over, offering a hoof to him. Escaped or not, there was a certain kinship between them now, and might be forever. The only other pony who had gone through what Lin was now, even if he didn’t know it. “We can both learn, when we get off this mountain.”