Finding Harmony

by Alice Eddor

X

She wiped the sweat from her brow, stretching. She had received message that she was desperately needed in Appleloosa, but when she had gotten there she found the place surrounded by the dark magic that came with the Shadow Beings they were trying to beat back. Appleloosa was taken, and she did the only thing she could think of doing, traveling to the next nearest city. This city was clearly in the midst of preparing for a war. Barricades had been set up around the perimeter, cheap wooden carts and benches that Dodge City had never grown out of, ignoring the technological advancements of the world. Though their weapons followed the same trends as the rest of the world, shining swords and spears glistening in the light from the sun. Bronze shields glinting, almost maliciously. She raised her hands in greeting to the sentries that stood watch.

"It's Terra! I'm a medic sent from Vanhoover!"

The two sentries in their respective towers lowered their weapons, though were still suspicious. Terra had heard that the Changeling army was now at large and understood their skepticism. Who was she to argue? As a travelling medic she was used to such treatment in the first few days of her service in a new city. There would be a background check, which she would breeze through with ease. All she would have to do was explain her situation and set her to work, which she would do more than gladly. She had been a travelling medic for several months now and was confident that her clearance would check out completely. All her documents were charmed to prevent counterfeiting, which was the best she could do in the circumstances. She wasn't sure of the limitations of a Changeling.

The two sentries, having come down from their posts temporarily, cleared her for entrance. She nodded to them in thanks and walked past the barricade, the eyes of the militia assembled at the front lines following her as she made her progress through the defenses. They had every right to be nervous as well, a stranger coming into their town. There were very few people like her about, travelling medics. Most doctors had decided to stay in their hometowns, like one of her friends from medical school. When she had left, Vanhoover hadn't been affected by the war, but there was no telling what state it was in now. But she was different; she knew that there were smaller cities that needed a medic far more than her large northern settlement.

She was directed towards the medical tent, which was larger than she expected considering the size of the town. She had to wonder how many people were in there. She got her answer as soon as she walked in the door, watching men and women scrambling about, tending to various injuries of all severities on the fallen warriors. She made a quick assessment of the situation, determining that where she was needed most was by a bed in a far right corner of the makeshift hospital. She dodged through the medical personnel as she ran, swinging her backpack around to her front, anxious to get started.

The person she was running for was a young man, from what she could tell, either a Mage or Earth, but no wings. While that eliminated an entire range of potential injury, it still left rather a lot. She couldn't see the wound clearly from where she was, but she would soon enough. She reached his bed and was shocked at what she saw. He was lying on his back on the bed, pain written all over it, his eyes squeezed shut. It was clear why. The entire right side of his torso was wrapped in blood soaked bandages which, after a quick examination, looked hastily applied and unchanged. His right leg was completely untreated; making it the wound that worried her the most at the moment.

His leg looked as though it had been torn open, the flesh around it green with infection. He must have been a Mage, because as she examined the leg she began to notice signs of a self-induced healing coma. The bleeding seemed to have clotted around the wound, giving it a strange and bloated look. Being a Mage herself, she knew how to treat someone who had gone into a healing coma, but it wasn't going to be easy. This must have been his last resort.

She set herself to work; ignoring all feelings of nausea the gaping wound may have caused. She had to focus on her work. She was a professional. She propped the foot up on the metal railing on the end of the bed and began to sanitize the wound, well aware of the infection. This would begin to rot, and then where would they be? The rotten should not be the living. Whatever had done this to him must have been strong and it must have been vicious. If she was right, it was the Shadow Beings; they were the only things attacking innocents. He must have been swarmed, vastly outnumbered. She frowned to herself. There was no honour in the way the Shadows fought. She wasn't a warrior, and didn't know much about honour or nobility, but she knew that there was a certain pride that came with fighting that these things didn't possess. A hard world would be ahead of them if the enemies weren’t defeated.

She stretched her back, not realizing how stiff she was. Traveling was hard on her, but she was doing it for people like this man, who hadn't been getting any treatment until she came along. Of course, she couldn't blame the people here. They had their hands full, and there couldn't be more than five people here. It dawned on her that the militia that she had seen at the front barricade must have been all that was left of the army here. She wondered if they had lost any yet, if any of the wounded had actually died. A dismal thought that she quickly pushed aside. She couldn't be thinking such unpleasant thoughts, however likely they were; it would affect her healing. She had to think positively, if she didn't her energy would go in the wrong direction and have negative consequences on the patient.

The wound on his side was much worse, it was the first time a wound had frightened her and made her wonder how long the poor young man had been in this state. She bit back the fear as she eased off the rest of the bandages to take a closer look at what had happened. What she saw made bile rise up in her throat. Under the bandages was a very clear view of her patient’s ribcage, almost as though someone had deliberately torn the skin from the bones. This too, was acidic green with infection in the flesh around the bones. The wound was bleeding badly, considering the coma he was in slowed blood flow. This would take more than cleaning and new bandages.

She shut her eyes and held out her hands to the open wound, a few inches above it. A shimmering purple spark started up in the middle of her palms, just in front of the image of the Rod of Asclepius that represented her special talent. She connected herself to him, taking in his pain. She connected herself to his mind, fighting the murk that came with a healing coma.

There you are. I'm Terra. I'm going to help you. Can you understand?

Who...?

The voice was weak in her mind, quiet and pained. She had to keep him going.

What happened?

...Hurts...

I know. I'm helping you. The seal won't last forever, but it will be there. For now.

She opened her eyes, maintaining the mental contact with the young man. The wound was slowly being covered by a thin, light purple layer, and the infection slowly clearing out. This was a temporary bandage, meant only to clean the disease away but not to stop any other wounds. The infection in the chest was much worse than it was in the leg, and she had to clear it out as soon as possible. Having it spread to organs would not be good. Once she was done with her cleaning, she began the psychological healing.

There, I'm cleaning it out, see? How are you feeling now?

Hurts...

His voice was stronger, showing that clearing the infection was helping. Good. It wouldn't be long before she would be able to bring him out of the coma, either tomorrow or the day after.

She worked with him for the rest of the afternoon and somewhat into the evening, easing him slowly out of the healing coma, though she did not finish before she had to retire. Once in a healing coma, it took incredible willpower or another Mage to get out. A healing coma was a very challenging piece of magic, a last resort trick. She had never considered attempting one in her life; this young man must have been desperate. Though he had good reason to do it, had he not he would have likely died. Of course, if she hadn't arrived he would have died either way. It was nearly midnight when she left, exhausted but content.

She was on her way to the sleeping areas that had been designated for traveling medics. The word had gotten around Equestria that there were doctors roaming about, going where needed, and every town still standing had tents that these medics could take shelter in. She was grateful for it, rather than trying to find a place to spend the night she had these pre-set homes that she could stay in. She was on her way to said tent when she was stopped in her path rather abruptly.

A boy staggered out of an alley, his eyes fixed on something in the shadows he burst from. Fear was wild in them, though what he was afraid of she couldn't tell. She stopped in her tracks, unsure of what to do. It wasn't the first time she had seen something like this, but there had always been another person involved, and they didn't normally look like they were teenagers...

Quite suddenly, the boy was thrown backwards at least five feet, making her jump. She had no idea how he had been thrown back so far or by what. Coming to her senses, she decided that it would probably be the best course of action to help him.

He ran over to the boy, who was staring at something in front of him with horror written all over his face, and knelt beside him, reaching out a hand.

"Are you-"

She was cut off by a yelp from the boy, who attempted to stutter something out while scrambling backwards as best he could.

"Wait, no, I don't want to hurt you!"

She felt something cold pass over her, almost like a night breeze. The boy, though still looking shaken, relaxed slightly and focused on her face, but it didn't feel like he was looking at her. It felt he was looking just in front of her, an odd focus. After a couple seconds of this he seemed to focus on her face at last, clearly still afraid, but cautious. He was panting, his eyes darting about her face, taking it in. "You don't- want anything?" His voice was brittle and quiet.

"No, I just want to know if you're okay."

His brow furrowed. He was apparently considering something. "I'm alright," he said at last, pushing himself onto his feet. It almost seemed like someone helped him. Terra gave her head a quick shake. No, she couldn't start losing it she was a doctor.

"Are you sure? My name's Terra, I can help you if you need me to."

"I've heard that before."

As he turned away something caught her attention. "Your wing, it looks broken. Can I look at it? I'm a doctor."

He winced. "No, it's nothing." He turned his head sharply to the right. "Shush." A pause. "No, it's fine."

"Um, who are you talking to exactly?"

He looked back to Terra, blinking as though he had just remembered she was there. "None of your business."

Ignoring that statement she began to notice little details, not only his broken wing, which was black as night. What surprised her was that his hair was not so dark. The wing colour normally matched the hair colour, but his was grey. It wasn't a natural grey either, it reminded her of her grandfather’s hair, and it had been the same colour grey. He looked frail, but clearly wasn't weak considering how quickly he brushed off a wing injury. He looked almost- dead. Could he be? No, that wasn't possible. He had to be alive. The dead couldn't walk. It was his eyes that gave it away anyway; she had never seen a more vibrant blue in her life. They stood out amongst his ratty clothes, pale skin and dark features, the only assurance he was alive.

"Um, what's your name?"

He paused for a second. "I know."

"Sorry?"

"I wasn't talking to you."

"So- who were you talking to?"

He gritted his teeth, either out of frustration or pain from his broken wing, she wasn't sure. It was almost like he was listening to someone, and not liking what he was hearing. "Wind Storm, that's my name."

“Why were you in the alley?"

He hesitated. "Because-"

"You know what? Doesn't matter. I'm going to help you. Come with me."

"What? Wait don't- ah!"

Terra grabbed his arm and started walking, almost dragging him with her. She ignored every protest he made, knowing that he was probably sick, had a broken wing that had been untreated for Celestia knows how long and apparently had schizophrenia. If it wasn’t schizophrenia then some kind of madness. She was a doctor and a psychologist. She had to help him, she knew she could, and living in the alley wasn't helping his condition. But something bothered her. The focus shifting, it was normal for people who were schizophrenic to see their hallucinations as reality, but this had seemed like more. She couldn't shake the question, who was he talking to?