Adversity

by Ogopogo

Chapter IV - Reunion

Oak tumbled backwards from the yellow mare’s tackle, slipping on the polished marble. The breath escaped his lungs as he hit the ground, a cursed question already forming upon his lips. He sputtered on strands of her orange mane, which dominated his vision. A mere moment before Oak intended on pushing her off, he realized something.

The mare was crying.

Tongue-tied, he stumbled over his question like a foal learning how to read. Brushing her mane from his face, Oak tentatively returned the hug with his free foreleg, looking to Caldor and Sky for guidance. Neither the gryphon nor the lieutenant had anything to offer, both staring on in bafflement. The tension in the air dimmed as they understood it wasn’t anger driving the mare.

“I-I’m s-s-so sorry,” the mare sobbed, squeezing Oak so tightly that he swore he heard his ribs crack.

“Wha—” Oak tried to say, but his question was cut off by another arrival.

“Oak!?” a maroon stallion exclaimed, a few strides behind the mare. Amidst his trimmed dark green mane stood a slender horn. “By tartarus,” he whispered, disbelief holding his jaw open, “it’s you!”

Licking his lips, Oak tried to address the most prominent quandary. “Who—”

“I c-can’t believe you’re still ah-a-alive,” the mare continued.

“Alive?”

With the sound of the choked words still ringing in his ears, the faint memories of the stormy night when he had first awoken, with his side torn open, came back to him. Even in their purest form, they were still figments, ghosts of spectres. He had been so woozy and faint from his injuries that all that fit into place were the pictures. These ponies knew him, and him, them, but nothing beyond that. No names; nothing.

Caldor seemed to recognize Oak’s confusion for what it was. “Miss, normally it’s polite to introduce yourself before jumping on ‘em.”

“What?” she asked in confusion, propping herself up. “Oak knows me.”

“Does he now?”

The earth pony shook his head ruefully from his position on the floor. “I feel like I should, but I don’t.”

“What?” she repeated in shock. “But we—”

“Miss, a concussion can do that. Remembering is precisely the problem at the moment.”

The yellow pegasus looked down to Oak, who nodded his head sadly. Even though he knew there was no reason for it, guilt plagued his mind as he saw tears well in her eyes. The air left his body once again, as the mare embraced him tightly.

“Alright, that’s enough,” Lieutenant Sky commanded, striding over and nudging the mare with a hoof. “I can appreciate your concern, but this is hardly the place for it. What are your names?”

She looked up, noticing the lieutenant for the first time. Blushing a furious crimson, she stood up, letting Oak rise to his hooves. The Solar Guard seemed amused rather than annoyed at the mare’s antics.

“My name is Frittata, sir.”

“Noche Buena,” the unicorn added. “Nice going by the way, Frit.”

“Oh, shut up,” Frittata growled, suggesting his criticism was playfully constant.

“You're going to have to leave us for a few minutes, regardless of how much you want to get reacquainted,” Sky ordered. “Caldor,” he continued, glancing to the gryphon, “neglected to mention memory loss when he recommended Oak.”

“Ah’m sure I did,” Caldor commented without an ounce of conviction in his voice.

“Yeah, sure you did,” Sky sighed knowingly, rolling his eyes. “If the general finds out he’s going to hang this whole thing around my neck. It’s bad enough as is that Oak’s injured and can’t even take part in pegasus training, but even then, he—”

“Um, sir?” Frittata asked. A pit of horror bloomed in Oak’s stomach. “Did you just say Oak was a pegasus?”

“Yes,” he said offhandedly. “Now...” Realization clicked inside Sky’s mind, and his gaze snapped to Oak’s bandages, then to the gryphon, who found a sudden interest in the table next to them. “You didn’t...?” Oak’s horror turned to terror as Caldor failed to supply an answer or some indication it wasn’t so. Lieutenant Sky’s face met the table with a meaty smack. “Great,” came the muffled response, “I always wanted to be a private again.”

“Oh, relax,” Caldor muttered, “You’re making a scene.”

“Relax!” Sky hissed. “ Caldor, I could lose my job over this, and you're telling me to relax!”

“If you keep your mouth shut, it won’t be a problem.”

“You’re telling me to actively lie to them!”

“Sir?” Noche tried.

Whipping his head around, he fixed Noche and Frittata in his sights. “I thought I told you to get out of here.”

“You—” Noche started.

Caldor waved him off. “Ach, let them stay. ‘Sides, they can help fill in the blanks.”

Frittata and Noche awaited Sky’s reluctant nod before warily taking a seat.

“So let’s start with the first blank then,” Sky continued in a hushed and urgent tone. “The part where you decide to leave out Oak’s an earth pony.”

“Ah didn’t do it without reason,” Caldor calmly replied. “Ask yourself this: how many earth ponies are in the guard?”

“There’s—”

“Not including the militia or reserves,” he insisted.

Sky relented, holding a hoof to his chin in thought. “There’s... Haralson and Eastern Haste,” he replied after a moment’s deliberation, lifting his head from his hoof.

“Really?” asked Caldor with genuine surprise, “And what division are they in?”

The light faded from the lieutenant's eyes with a sigh of realization. “Administration.”

“And there you have it,” Caldor said, complementing his point with a dramatic sweep of his foreleg. “And it’s not for lack of them trying.”

“Are you implying the guard has something against earth ponies?”

“Ah’m not implying anything,” he replied levelly. “Ah’m telling you how it is.” Oak caught a flicker of movement in Caldor’s eyes as they drifted away from their table.

Sky opened and closed his mouth, halting a flawed retort before it could be voiced.

“Perhaps we should take this conversation elsewhere,” the gryphon interrupted suddenly. “Other parties might take an interest.”

The lieutenant didn’t miss a beat, discretely peeking over his shoulder. “Alright.”

“One more thing... Frittata, is it?”

“Yes?” the golden yellow mare answered.

“It was a manticore that attacked Oak, correct?”

“Yes... Wait, what?” Frittata exclaimed after him in confusion. The gryphon merely smiled and headed for the door, trailed by the lieutenant. “What was that about?” she queried, ruffling her feathers uneasily.

“He guessed it was a manticore after seeing my scars,” Oak supplied.

An uncomfortable silence permeated the air, leaving them alone with their food. Oak poked at his sandwich with a hoof, but the feeling of hunger had left him, replaced with an equal appetite: curiosity. By all means, he should be clamoring for answers to his history. They had the answers, at least to his recent past, and he had his own for them. The thought must have struck them simultaneously, as they all spoke up at the same moment, cutting each other off in a clash of noise and falling silent once more.

Summoning the courage to speak to the pony they knew, but he not them, Frittata hesitated before speaking. “Oak, how are you still alive?”

Oak shook his head. “I have no idea. I mean, I know how I survived my injuries, but I don’t remember how I woke up in the hospital bed. I guess somepony must have found me.”

“Obviously,” Noche stated, his comment dripping with sarcasm.

Chuckling, Oak gave his head a weary nod. “Obviously,” he confirmed.

“What about that gryphon, was it him?”

“Caldor? No, I met him on the train here. Doctor Remedy was the one who stitched me together, but he never said anything about finding me.”

“Is he—”

“Frit,” Noche Buena interrupted, “shouldn’t you let Oak ask a question or two?”

“Err... Right.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Princess Celestia sank her teeth into the pastry, relishing the flavour crafted by the chef and her kitchen. Quality was never sacrificed in the name of time or money, Swelling Sails adamant her princess have nothing less than exceptional dishes.

Now if only the chef could work on size.

With a sigh Celestia set down her fork, finished with the small portion. To her, it was an aggravating trend: the way it had become the pinnacle of cuisine to serve these miniscule portions on massive plates. For a moment, she found herself yearning for the wondrous feasts of years past. True, ponies may have been a tad on the wild side back then, but they knew the pleasure in falling asleep with a full stomach. Between the brink of nausea and being full existed the perfect balance, a state which serenaded the mind to rest.

Casting her eyes over the plate once more, Celestia searched for any morsel which may have escaped her all-consuming appetite. Talking to chef had finally become unavoidable. In the absence of proper meals, the alicorn had begun to sneak a few too many pastries or snacks at court or between hearings. A furious blush of embarrassment crossed her face as she remembered her sister’s comment. What had been meant as a joke on Luna’s part had turned out to be true. She, Princess Celestia, Ruler of Equestria and Bringer of the Sun, was no longer the slender beauty that bards wrote songs of.

She was fat, overweight, or, as she prefered it, of ample proportions.

The only thing that had held her tongue up until this point had been Swelling Sails’ pride. She could be a little... overzealous with her cooking, and it remained the sole reason the alicorn refrained from actively criticizing the meals. However, enough was enough.

“Excuse me, princess.”

Looking up from her deliberations, Celestia took in the guard before her and smiled warmly. Eastern Haste was one of the few guards she was rather familiar with, the earth pony bearing messages with admirable diligence. Now and again, they would bump into each other over pages of paperwork, a byproduct of the political process, and find themselves chatting. Eastern Haste held out bundle of scrolls, offering them to Celestia.

“Lieutenant Haste, how are you today?” she greeted him, flicking open a wax seal. Taking a brief glance at the title, she set it down, putting it, and the rest, off until later. Tax code was a tedious thing and there was no need to soil the potential for a pleasant conversation.

“Fine, your highness,” he answered in a dutiful tone, tinged with jovial spirits. “Just dropping off a few messages here and there.”

“Care for a cup of tea?” she offered, lifting the pot left by the servants.

“Still on duty, I’m afraid,” he replied half-heartedly.

“I insist.”

It was almost a little game of theirs, crafted from years of friendship. She would offer, he would decline, then she would insist. Without another word of complaint, he took a seat, nodding to the offer of sugar for his beverage.

“How have things been with you lately?” Celestia asked, passing the steaming tea cup.

Eastern Haste’s face lit up in a grin, “Absolutely wonderful.”

“Oh?” she replied curiously, stirring her tea.

“Received a letter in the mail from my daughter yesterday bearing news.” Eastern Haste’s eyes twinkled merrily. “In a little over five months, I’m going to be a grandfather.”

“Oh my goodness, congratulations!” Celestia gushed, sharing in his happiness. “Have they picked a name yet?”

Eastern Haste nodded. “If it is a filly, Blooming Laurel, and if it’s a colt, Eastern Horizon.”

“After you?”

“Yeah,” he murmured affectionately, “after me.”

“How sweet,” she giggled.

“It sure doesn’t make me feel any younger, though. My daughter always seems to take pleasure in pointing that out. In fact, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say she was eager to collect her inheritance,” Eastern joked.

Celestia frowned, looking down at her cup, and bobbing the teabag in idle motion while he chuckled. Jokes of mortality had never sat well with her, and still didn’t. Though she had long since understood the implications of her own existence, she still never enjoyed others trivializing their own.

“Something the matter, princess?” Eastern Haste questioned, noticing the sudden change.

“It’s... Nothing,” she answered with a forced smile.

“You sure?”

“Positive,” she reaffirmed quietly.

“I hate having to return to business, but I must; there was something else I was instructed to tell you. General Candlelight informed me the necessary precautions were put in place as you requested, though he didn’t mention what. Anything you need to pass on to him?” Eastern Haste asked.

Celestia fell silent, pondering the implications the news brought. Avoiding the question, she answered with one of her own. “Can I entrust you with a special task?”

“Of course, your highness, anything,” he responded instantly.

“Could you keep an eye out for trouble around the castle? I do not want to be the source of undue worry, but it would be a great ease to my mind if you could keep watch.”

“I’ll be sure to keep my eyes open.”

“Thank you,” she replied, taking a sip of her tea. “So what can I get your daughter for the baby shower?” she asked, changing the topic and awaiting the protest, a smile forming on her lips.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“For the love of... Come on, Oak,” Noche groaned.

Picking himself up off the ground, Oak shook his head, banishing the ringing bells. “Sorry, I’m just no good at this.”

Frittata balanced the sack on an outstretched wing, comically rolling her eyes. “You’re the one who taught us this game. You kick our flanks at this all the time.”

The three of them stood out in the yard, playing, or at least attempting to play, a game that Oak had taught them weeks before. The only thing needed was a small sack filled with dirt, a few ponies, and space. You were allowed three touches to keep the sack in the air, before passing it off to the next pony in line. Whenever someone missed, or let the ball tumble, regardless of where it was sent, the others would get a point. Whoever had the most at the end of the game won. The catch came with the design of the sack. When hit too hard, it would tumble open, plastering its contents everywhere and costing the striker the match.

“I know,” Oak sighed, having heard the criticism already. He was utterly abysmal at this game, without so much as a single point. “Just give me a moment to think.”

To the best of their abilities, Frittata and Noche had filled Oak in on what he had missed. It left him a good idea of when he had first met them, three weeks ago, but not much beyond that. Apparently, he hadn’t mentioned much of where he came from, or his history, and frankly, what they knew was limited as best. The three had met at an inn stationed at the edge of a town on the long path to distant Canterlot. After a round of drinks, it had been Noche who suggested they should travel together, working their way down south. All three of them were crossing the distance under their own power, and travelling together would certainly make the time fly by.

“Just curious, Oak,” Frittata questioned, “what happened to Noir?”

“He’s around somewhere,” Oak replied. “Not sure where at the—” Oak trailed off, recalling something. “Hold on a sec.” Raising a hoof to his mouth, Oak whistled shrilly, summoning the raven.

Knowing Noir, Oak reasoned he was likely off sleeping somewhere, or gorging himself on scraps. With an eerily rapid response, however, his companion swooped down from the sky and snatched the sack from Frittata, soaring up into the sky.

“Hey!” Frittata shouted, nearly tumbling over in surprise.

After a moment, Noir banked, soaring in a wide arc until he had reversed course. Piercing the sack with his claws, the raven sprayed the contents on Frittata and Noche, dropping the cloth atop Noche’s horn.

“What the hell!” Noche exclaimed, wiping his eyes free of the grit. “For heaven’s sake, Oak, what was that about!”

The raven finished his second winding loop, landing atop Oak’s head. Flaring his wings, he hissed viciously at the two ponies. He did not desire to see them again in the slightest.

“Noir, what’s this about?” Oak asked, wincing as talons dug into his scalp.

The crow didn’t answer, instead, jerking his head forward aggressively at the two ponies, hissing again.

Somehow, Oak got the message. “Noir, that isn’t their fault. Did you expect them to stay and fight the manticore?”

Noir warbled quietly, indicating his belief in that statement.

“I don’t blame them for what happened, and neither should you. You should apologize.”

Noir hissed once more, shaking his head.

“No, you are going to apologize,” Oak decided, lifting a hoof to take the raven off his head.

Before he could grab hold, however, Noir took flight, narrowly skimming over Frittata’s head and raking his talons through her mane. Moments later, he disappeared, ducking behind the city’s skyline.

Oak let his hoof drop down to the ground dejectedly. “Sorry about that,” he muttered to his friends, his ears drooping. “I’ll see if I can’t talk some sense into him when I get the chance. I’m sure he’ll come around.”

“I’m pretty sure he still hasn’t forgotten me for locking him outside the inn,” Noche commented, plucking the sack off his horn. “I mean— Ow!” Noche exclaimed, rubbing the spot where Frittata had kicked him. “What the heck was that for?”

Frittata gave the unicorn an obvious glare, before addressing Oak’s concerns. “It’s alright, Oak, he has good reason to hate us.”

“No he doesn’t!” the earth pony protested.

“Yes he does, Oak.” Frittata sighed, taking a seat on the ground. “We could have tried to carry you or something, but instead, we just left you to the manticore. You, let alone Noir, have ample reason to hate us for that. It makes less sense that you don’t, actually.”

“So what?” Oak replied. “I’m just happy I met you guys again. Just forget about that whole thing. I don’t really—” Oak broke off, yawning widely. “‘scuse me,” he muttered, regaining control of his jaw.

“Tired?” Noche asked, still plucking out clods of dirt from his mane.

“Yeah, seems like it,” Oak answered. “I mean, apparently I’m not entirely better yet, and then I was in a coma before that.”

“So how bad was it?” the unicorn questioned, lazily gesturing to Oak’s side.

“Well, from what I can remember, it hurt.”

Noche snorted. “Your amazing talent of description still astounds me. Whatever would we do in a world without Oak Leaf to state the obvious?”

“Oh, shut up.”

“Calling it how I see it,” he protested innocently, threading a lock of his unkempt mane behind his ear. “Can’t help it if that’s how it is.”

“Alright,” Oak relented. “Let’s just say, it was definitely better I was out of it and loopy from blood loss. I do not want to remember how much that hurt.” He finished his sentence with another yawn.

“Maybe you should turn in early,” Frittata suggested.

“It’s not even sundown,” Oak replied, giving himself a quick shake to wake up.

“Well it’s not like there’s anything else to do.”

“Speak for yourself,” Noche cut in. “I plan on going to a few bars, checking in on the action.”

“And what part of getting drunk sounds like a good idea to you?”

“Well, I’ll have you to guide me back, for starters.”

“Now hold on a moment,” Frittata protested. “What makes you think I even want to go with you?”

Noche shrugged. “Well it’s not like you have anything better to do with your time.”

Hoof met cheek as Frittata slapped Noche across the face. Perhaps it may have been a tad excessive, but it certainly hadn’t been unwarranted.

“But you know it’s true,” Noche Beuna added in good humor, in spite of the blow. “Without me you’d have nothing to do.”

It pained her to admit it, but he was correct. Bitterly, she muttered a response.

“Anyway, what did you think of Candlelight’s speech, Oak?” Noche asked, shifting the topic.

“Good, I suppose.”

“Trust me; it may sound good the first time, but after the first few times, you realize it’s rehearsed.”

“... What?”

“We’ve been here for a little more than a week now, Oak,” explained Frittata. “Every few days they gather us in the room and give us that sort of speech, saying we’ll be starting soon, before sending us on a run and making us repeat that exercise. Then, for the next few days, we have nothing to do. I guess they’ve been waiting for Caldor to arrive.”

“So they’ll actually be starting tomorrow?”

She nodded. “Probably.”

“So what’s the plan for tonight then?”

“I guess I’ll be going out with Noche,” Frittata sighed, glaring at the grinning unicorn. “You should just stay here and get some rest.”

“We’re done with the game, I take it?”

Noche lifted the torn sack. “Gee, I wonder what gave you that idea? I think its safe to say you lost, quite pathetically I might add.”

“Once again, shut up,” Oak shot back, groaning in mock annoyance.

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[Mother3Forever]

And so it begins....Let's do this.