Purpose
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He struggled to grasp the wisp of consciousness from the depths of the darkness, the area between the two realms holding nothing, yet encompassing all. His tattered mind reached for something to hold onto, something to find solace in. A name bubbled up from the void, allowing him a degree of certainty: Oak Leaf. Redoubling his efforts, he sought to awake and view the world around him.
Lightning flashed as he wavered at the edge of reality. In a daze, Oak’s eyes flickered open to see a maroon face standing over him. The mouth was moving, yet he heard nothing except the pounding of the rain and his own pittering heartbeat. The maroon face grew fuzzy as the darkness reached up to reclaim him, its grip stifling. As Oak fought against his failing mind, the face would come back into focus to look off to the right, revealing a horn set amidst a green mane. As Oak’s head lolled to the side, he would see a yellow mare with numerous cuts and scrapes layered over her body.
Lightning would snake out again, and a pair of wings would be revealed, one held limply at her side. She appeared to be speaking, and this time whispers of sound, albeit incoherent, were heard. While Oak gazed at the pegasus, her eyes met his and something, somewhere between remorse and absolute grief, flashed through them. Tears streaked her cheeks, mixing with the heavy rain.
As Oak lay there, the tendrils of darkness coming ever closer to reclaiming him, he felt the ground tremble. He heard a shout from the maroon one, the deep tone revealing him as a male, but the clarity of the words still eluded Oak. He tried to call out as the two started to leave, but nothing came out but a low groan. The two ran off without looking back, leaving him lifeless on the ground. The tremble became a pounding, and the pounding swelled in strength.
Suddenly it stopped, just as it reached its zenith. A sense of peace came with the stillness, but was all too quickly replaced with the horror of the unknown. With the last of his strength, he tried to roll his head to face the other direction. He only made it halfway before being violently struck, flying into the air. A sense of serenity passed through Oak as he crested and began his descent. With a splash, the darkness claimed its spoils.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Lying in the shallows of the stream, Oak groaned softly as he awoke with no idea how dire his situation was. The ground wavered in and out of focus as he stared dumbly at the reeds in front of him. The minutes flew past as he lay there, reports of pain slow to reach his mind. Eventually, he couldn’t help but try to stand up, to try and figure out where he was.
Excruciating pain greeted his every movement, and, in absolute agony, he screamed mutely to the heavens. In a moment of horror, he finally understood that he was dying. Yet, instead of crying at what he stood to lose, he began to laugh, agonizing giggles raking his body. It wasn’t that he found it funny, but rather, he never thought he would be dying in this manner. Soon enough, however, the giggles lapsed into silence as he blacked out from the pain, his vision snapping like a twig.
Curiously: it was a frog who was the first to find him, searching for the reason the stream ran red. He wasn’t sure what to make of it, hoping close to determine just what this thing was. Before he could figure it out, a shape streaked by overhead, cawing voraciously. Deciding upon a hasty retreat, the frog leapt back to the safety of the stream, its questions abandoned. The large black raven returned to circling the unconscious form, leering down at it. Focusing on his deliberations, the corvus failed to notice the pale pink mare galloping towards them.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The third time came all too slowly, an awaited twilight yet to come. Every breath was laborious, forced and shallow. Through half-lidded eyes, Oak watched the world move on, distinctly unaware. As the cart beneath him rattled, lights passed judgement overhead above still silhouettes and whispers of noise. Decisively, the lights halted and Oak felt something press against the base of his shoulder, piercing the skin. Vainly trying to fight it, once more he lost consciousness, slipping into dreamless sleep.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The dawn of the new day brought another stunning sunrise, rays of lights and shadows draping the landscape. Briar Field’s small hospital stood valiantly in the path of a beam, denying its touch to the ground behind. Not all appreciated the building’s sacrifice though; Oak’s retinas screamed in protest as he awoke. Blinking sleep-encrusted eyes, Oak stiffly lifted a foreleg, trying to block out the light. A pair of outstretched wings beat him to it, forming a black outline.
Oak stared blankly, his mind lethargic and slow. “Noir?” he croaked, his throat dry.
The raven squawked a greeting, leaping up onto his friend’s head.
“Yeah, I’m alive, I guess; you?” Oak replied, looking up.
The warbling reply was lost in the crash of the door opening, startling the raven into flight. Confusion was etched into the faces of the three ponies as they ground to a halt.
“Heyo?” Oak tried lamely, as a black feather drifted down to the floor from the open window. Only then did he notice the monotone wail filling the room, originating from a monitor in the corner, and the wires strewn across his bed, the electrodes torn loose from his body.
The magical aura surrounding the unicorn’s horn dissipated as he regarded his patient’s condition: miraculously upright. He was short and stocky with a beige coat and a well-trimmed black mane, and he wore a doctor’s coat with a stethoscope draped around his neck.
Overcoming his surprise, the doctor cleared his throat authoritatively. “You, my dear lad, shouldn’t even be awake right now. Considering the extent of your injuries, and the sedative we gave you, you should be out like a light.”
“Extent of my injuries?” Oak repeated, climbing from his bed. To his displeasure, he found his left foreleg enveloped by a bulky plaster cast.
“Yes,” the doctor said, fishing a file from a nearby cabinet. “Let’s see... Three broken ribs—several more fractured—a broken radius, a fractured ulna and metatarsal, numerous lacerations, severe bruising and a severe concussion.” He closed the file, setting it on the counter behind him. “If it is permissible, I would like to run a few tests. After over a week’s rest, you are bound to have made some progress.”
“A week!” Oak exclaimed in shock.
“Actually, it has been eleven days,” the doctor corrected. “In your situation, waking up after a month, if ever, would have been lucky, Mr...”
“Oak Leaf,” he replied. “And you?”
“I am Doctor Remedy, and these are nurses Morning Shimmer and Golden Pastel,” he said, gesturing to the identical, pale yellow pegasi. “As you can probably surmise, they are twins.” Levitating a small penlight, he leaned in close to peer at Oak’s eyes. “So tell me, what is the last thing you remember?”
Pupils contracting in the penlight’s glare, Oak struggled to collect his memory. Cohesion was something his mind lacked, everything blurring together messily. “I... I’m not sure... Is that bad?”
“Normally, yes, but it is not unexpected for your degree of head trauma to have that sort of effect. Experience as a doctor has taught me that, with time, lost memories will resurface. Often, it is a catalyst of sorts which jogs the mind. Now please hold still for a moment.”
Whilst Doctor Remedy gauged Oak’s responsiveness, the two nurses moved about Oak, hefting scissors and gauze. Carefully, they changed out his bandages, tossing the bloodied cloth into a bin. When Oak felt fresh air against his bare midriff, he hazarded a glance back, immediately regretting the choice. Gouged across his barrel were four long tapering gashes, the flesh pink and puckered along the edges.
“Look here,” Remedy commanded, snapping Oak from his revulsion. “Only another minute or two and we shall be done.”
Soon enough, having finished their duties, the medical staff left, leaving Oak alone with the solace of his thoughts. Spying a mirror in the corner, he strode over, the ungainly cast thumping against the tiled floor. Tugging off the linens resting on top, Oak took a step back to examine his reflection.
“Wow,” he chuckled, “I really do look like shit.”
Hailing from the northernmost reaches of Equestria, Oak had grown up among giant, icy mountains and snow-blanketed valleys. Common to all ponies of his heritage, he stood on a set of sturdy legs disproportionate to the rest of his wiry body, hardened by years of running up and down treacherous slopes. A shaggy, forest-green coat, in desperate need of a trim, covered his body, adapted to the unforgiving climate. He blew at a few strands of the rough, coffee-coloured mane poking out from beneath a hat of bandages that pinned one ear against his head. Turning about, the gruesome wound across his middle was hidden under a thick mass of bandages, stifling in their weight. Peering closely, Oak could just make out his cutie mark, a skipping stone, from underneath the edge of yet another set of bandages across his flank.
All in all, he looked more like a medical cabinet than a pony.
His injuries and exhaustion decided to catch up with him at that moment, and, glancing over to the bed, Oak realized just how tired he was. Drained was the word to describe how he felt, and with that, the earth pony clambered into the bed, nestling beneath the covers. Noir returned a few minutes after Oak’s gentle snoring began to fill the room, perching atop the headboard. Preening himself in a show of indignation at his fearful flight, he settled down, watching over his master. Then, tucking his head beneath his wing, he joined Oak in dreams.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Something tickled his nose, and, sleepily, Oak brushed it away. He sniffled as the offending object returned. Grabbing the edge of the blanket, he pulled it over his head, hoping to escape the torment.
“Ow!” cried Oak, as something rapped his head sharply. Flailing wildly, he tumbled off the bed, ensnared in the covers.
Sighing, Oak set his head down on the floor. “Morning, Noir.”
The raven squawked smugly from his perch, lifting a wing to adjust his primaries.
The grasp of the blankets was unyielding, and it took Oak many minutes to extract himself from their clutches. He stood up stiffly, half expecting his legs to collapse beneath him. Surprisingly, they didn’t, and only mild aches accompanied his movements.
A few minutes passed before Oak Leaf noticed the bowl resting upon the nightstand, graced with a short note: “Drink this. -Doc R.” All that was needed to complete the image of the musty green soup was a score of frothy bubbles. Still, figuring it had to be some sort of broth, Oak tossed back his head, downing it in one swift gulp. His stomach immediately boycotted the decision, desperate to eject the pasty liquid. Coughing and heaving all the while, Oak inexplicably managed to keep it down, only spitting a few drops back out into the bowl.
“I suppose she wasn’t lying when she said it wouldn’t go down well,” Doctor Remedy commented, having rushed in at the sickening noises.
“What the blazes was in that?” Oak exclaimed, spitting yet again into the bowl.
“In short, medicine,” Doctor Remedy explained, passing across a cup of water. “In detail, it’s a concoction of rare ferns and plants from the Everfree Forest, first crushed into a paste then dissolved in a mildly acidic solution. The restoration capabilities of this mixture are rather astounding—”
“Doc,” Oak interjected, “medicine is good enough.”
The unicorn’s smile twitched in amusement. “Yes, well, in short, that medicine is what permitted you to heal so quickly. In fact, had we not been administering it, I doubt you would have survived.”
“Still tastes like shit,” Oak muttered.
“That it does, I suppose, yet I think you’d prefer it to the alternative. While I am here, I believe I should inquire as to the destination you were travelling to. Any ideas as to where that may have been?”
“No,” Oak muttered, “no idea.”
“Somehow I doubt that,” stated Remedy matter-of-factly, “Where were you headed? Was it of great importance or just to see the world and all its wonders?”
The answers Oak sought were like wisps of smoke: elusive and intangible. They weaved through his grasp like a fish through water, flitting away before he could grab hold.
“Think, Oak Leaf!” Remedy urged. “What were you seeking?”
Frustrated with his inability to recall, Oak lunged forward, snapping at a stray memory that was slow in its escape. Still, Oak missed, but not before getting a taste, and with it a name.
“Canterlot!” Oak exclaimed, mouth widening in a grin.
“Funny you should say that,” the doctor chuckled, after a moment’s pause. “I had intended to travel there two days after you were brought in, but given your condition, it was prudent to wait. Now, if you’re well enough, you could accompany me.”
The suggestion confused Oak terribly. “What? Surely I can’t be better yet?”
“True,” he admitted, “by all rights you should still be breathing through a tube, yet, medically, there is nothing worth keeping you here for. That substan—” The word caught abruptly in his throat. “Medicine has aided immensely in your, dare I say it, miraculous recovery. Any pain you feel right now should be merely aches from being confined to a bed for a week.”
Rolling his shoulders experimentally, Oak ascertained that the doctor was correct. Testing his limits, Oak gently stretched his body, waiting for a stab of pain to greet the cautious movements. Only the last one, stretching the skin across his side, the same side that had been ripped open, made his body scream in protest.
“Except those,” Doctor Remedy added, spying the pained expression on his patient’s face. “Nothing save time and perhaps medicine can fix those. Now will you be coming or not?”
“Um, yeah I guess,” Oak answered hesitantly.
“Very good,” he replied, passing Oak a set of saddlebags. “The train leaves in an hour and there are items you will need to pack.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A simple wooden platform and a small ticket booth were all that made up the small town’s station. The train was already there, standing unattended, the engineers having paused for lunch. Glancing back at the buildings behind him, Oak sighed and adjusted the loaned saddlebags before turning back. Had it not been for the urgency surrounding his memories, he might have declined the doctor’s offer. The sleepy town would have been the perfect place to recuperate.
Inside the ticket stand, a mare sat, idly flipping through pages of a magazine. Doctor Remedy had to cough obviously to gain her attention, and then only for a moment.
“Yes?” she asked tiredly, flipping another page.
“Two tickets to Canterlot please,” Doctor Remedy requested, pushing a few bits through the opening.
It was a testament to either her laziness, or her boredom, that she didn’t even bother to count them, sweeping them into a tray. Slapping a button twice, two tickets popped up before her, and she passed them through, reading her magazine all the while.
“Thank you for choosing to ride with Equestria Railroads,” she sang in a rehearsed monotone. “We hope you will choose us again in the future.”
“Gee,” whispered Oak as they walked away, “you’d think they would hire someone a little more—”
“Enthusiastic?” finished Remedy. “Briar Field isn’t all that big a town, so they had few applications for a job as dull this,” he explained. “In fact, she is one of the better ones. One or two of them use the slow pace to catch up on sleep.”
“Wow... Why doesn’t the company fire them?”
“Who else would take their spot? Like I said, they take who they can get.”
A whistle sounded out, signalling the imminent departure of the train. A familiar shadow graced the platform as Noir landed atop Oak’s back. Breakfast for the raven was something Oak always tried his best not to think about.
The two, plus one passenger, climbed up into the train, taking a right turn and heading towards the rear. The ungainly cast around Oak’s leg led to more than one apology as they trotted down the aisle, as the cumbersome thing was difficult to control. The train slowly began to move as they searched for a seat.
Doctor Remedy groaned in irritation as the last compartment in the car was occupied. Tugging the door open against the rushing air, the three crossed into the next and final car. Just like the previous one, all the compartments were closed, save for the last. Curiously, Remedy stuck his head in then shot back, bumping into Oak in his haste.
“What’s the matter?” Oak asked, rubbing his nose tenderly as he righted himself.
“There’s a gryphon in there!” the doctor hissed in reply.
The earth pony stared at the doctor in sheer astonishment, and then rolled his eyes, moving to push past him. “Bloody... Oh come on, gryphons are fine.”
“It’s not that!” Remedy insisted, his protests falling on deaf ears.
Indeed it wasn’t the race which had bothered the doctor, but rather the size and stature of the pillar of ice-white feathers and muscle. Only a few spots of grey dancing across his chest offered any contrast. Lending Remedy an uneasy grin, Oak crept in, carefully judging his steps.
“Now what’s someone like yourself doin’ this far south?”
All movement stopped at the sound of the gryphon’s voice, rumbling in a low tenor and articulated with a northern accent. His eyes were closed, yet a smile played at the edge of his beak.
“I could ask you the same thing,” Oak shot back before he could think up a proper response.
“Aye,” the gryphon chuckled, sitting up and opening brilliant blue eyes, “could never stand this damned heat.”
“But it’s not even twenty out,” stated Remedy in confusion.
“Ask him what a winter coat is like,” he grunted, gesturing to Oak. “Comfortable for us is around freezing.”
The forest-green earth pony gave a small nod of agreement. The long hair of his coat was like an ice cube in a desert: out of place. The first chance he got, half of it was going. Thing was, finding someone to fulfill that request wouldn’t be easy. The length of his coat was genetic, not merely from the changing of the seasons, and it did not naturally shed.
“Name’s Caldoris Talrius Hawkeye,” the gryphon said, stretching out a claw. “Call me Caldor, though.”
“I’m Oak Leaf, this is Noir, and this is Doctor Remedy,” Oak said, meeting the offer with a hoof
“So what has you heading to Canterlot?” Caldor asked, rummaging through a previously hidden pack.
“I’m visiting my daughter, Lilium, while Oak is trying to piece together what he was headed to Canterlot for,” Remedy explained.
“Can’t remember, you say?” the gryphon asked with a raised eyebrow. “Anyhow, the Royal Guard is recruiting again, and they—“
The words were lost in the noise of Oak’s mind; something had triggered a memory: a promise. It drew up to him slowly, like a building wave, but crashed down with only a fragment of its meaning.
“... Protect...”
“Protect,” Oak muttered, mulling over the word, oblivious to the others. In his eagerness to learn of himself, he made the connection, the jump, without first looking ahead. Whether it was correct or not, he was bound to his decision. “That’s it!” he shouted jubilantly, ignorant of the conversation. “I was going to join the guard!” His expression was replaced with confusion, then sheepishness, realizing he had interrupted Caldor.
“Well then,” Caldor declared, unfazed, “Ah guess we’ll be seeing more of each other; the guard hired me to assist with their training.”
“So you’re a mercenary then?” Doctor Remedy asked innocently.
The gryphon’s eyes hardened to shards of ice. “No, and Ah don’t take too kindly to being labelled as one.”
“Easy,” Oak interrupted, halting the irritated explanation. “He was just asking a question, and I doubt he was aware of the significance.”
Caldor’s expression softened as he recognized the venom in his words. “Aye, you’re probably right. My apologies, Remedy…”
“It’s quite alright,” Remedy assured him. “I too am passionate about my life’s work. So what manner of service do you provide the guard?”
“Training and experience,” he answered simply. “Even the highest-ranked pony on the guard lacks any meaningful combat experience. It has been too many years since Equestria has had a skilled foe.”
“I would argue that that is better than the alternative,” Remedy countered. “The princesses are quite skilled in diplomacy, so such methods have never been needed in the past.”
“True,” Caldor admitted, “but what will happen when Equestria finally faces a foe who won’t listen, one who is hellbent on destruction?” He held up a talon, silencing the reply. “The Elements of Harmony may be powerful, but they need time to gather and lack the conviction to finish it.”
“You should never finish anyone,” exclaimed Remedy, sounding disgusted, “even if they are your enemy.”
“Ah never said Ah liked it, but it is the only way to guarantee they won’t try again.”
Oak found his eyes drifting off to the passing landscape, while the two delved into a highly opinionated discussion of ethics. Groves of trees and golden fields of flowing grass rolled past as the train chugged along, its pace constant, never faltering. The sight of the mountains and foothills looming in the distance made his mind churn with all its misplaced memories.
Oak was suddenly struck by vertigo, and found himself assaulted by the smells, sights and sounds of a brilliant day. He could feel the sun beating down on his coat as he whirled about, dancing with others. Everything was a blur, yet constant was the twirling of the crowd, the fragrance of heavenly food, and joy tainted with horror as a bloodcurdling scream left him chilled to the bone.
“Oak, are you alright?” Remedy asked in concern, the sudden change not going unnoticed.
Retching, Oak managed to nod his head, a shiver passing down his spine.
“Ah know what will make you feel better,” exclaimed Caldor, “Getting your wings free of those bindings and giving them a good stretch...” Caldor trailed off as both Oak and Remedy gave him dumbfounded stares. "What?”
“I’m an earth pony,” Oak explained. “These bandages are for my gashes, not wings.”
“But... But I thought you said you were intending to join the Royal Guard?”
“Yes, I plan to.”
Caldor sighed remorsefully, “You have a problem then.”
“What?”
“The Royal Guard hasn’t accepted an earth pony into their ranks for over three hundred years.”