The Elf

I wake up to bright lights, not the chilled grey of a hospital. I smells plants nearby: apples, lavender, cabbages, daisies, and rosemary, as well as a hint of something else I can't quite place. As my vision clears, I notice a fan spinning lazily overhead, with a slightly tinted light at the center. I try to stand, but the flood of pain brings me back to the bed with a stifled scream.

I feel the softness of the bed against my bare back and stiffen, noticing that my armor is gone. One of my hands twitches, a bare flicker of motion that echoes an oath. I try to sit up again, but again the pain forces me down before I can get off the bed. Despite my best efforts, a groan escapes my lips.

This time, a creature walks in. Its posture is like that of a gryphon, but beyond of that, the similarities end. The legs end in flat, broad stumps, rather than claws or paws, and it has a muzzle rather than a beak. The ears stick out as curved flaps of skin rather than tufts of feathers, and there's a horn protruding from roughly between them. Its whole body is the grey of ancient mountains, and its eyes are the light yellow of sunset.

I try to raise my arm to greet him, but it barely lifts an inch before falling back to the bed. The creature blinks in surprise, then mutters in Trader, "Quick healing. That's good."

I stare in shock for a moment, then mentally shrug and murmur, "Never treated elves?"

The doctor tilts his head. "Speak up, please." This time, his voice is nearly at a shout, and my eyes widen in surprise. Do these creatures not value silence?

Still, as he is the doctor, I do as he says and repeat, louder, "Never treated elves?"

He shakes his head. "The Medical Collegiate taught me how, but your kind isn't all that common on our side of the Everfree Forest." He scowls. "Wasn't, at least. There are a few more of you here nowadays, with the war and all."

I nod. "Point."

He sighs and shrugs, then says, "Well, in another two or three weeks you should be good to go, but you'll be walking with a cane or crutch for another couple months after that while you get back up to strength. Can I get you something to eat or drink?"

I frown. "Brightwater tea?"

The doctor shakes his head.

I sigh. "Coffee."

He nods and walks out, but he's only gone for a moment before returning with a steaming cup of coffee, held in a light grey-blue glow. His horn glows the same color. I abruptly recognize the species, mentally smacking myself for not realizing he was a pony until just now. Ignoring the distinctive body shape and horn, the warmth, the polite neutrality, the speaking should have tipped me off.

The doctor raises an eyebrow. "What're you blushing at?" he asks, quieter now. He sets the coffee on the table beside me, smiling faintly.

I instinctively try to move my hand, but the twinge of pain reminds me to stop. I sigh and say, "Forgetfulness."

The doctor nods, then slowly shifts the bed so I'm at more of an incline. He gently sets the coffee cup against my lips and tilts it back, letting me take a few sips before pulling it away. I shut my eyes and focus for a moment, pulling the energy the caffeine lends me into form and pushing it in the right way until the bed groans under my weight, then back the other way until the pressure on my back disappears for a second and my hair floats up around me. I drop the magic and let the energy flow where it's supposed to, then open my eyes, some slight energy leak heating me up. I make a mental note to fix it.

The doctor is staring at me in either shock or horror. I tilt my head. "What is it?" I ask.

His mouth abruptly shuts with an audible click. He shakes his head quickly and says, "That's gonna draw her." His face creases a little with effort, for just a moment.

My head tilts a little. "Who?" I ask, confused.

Or, more accurately, I try to ask. I've barely opened my mouth when there's a bright flash of light and another unicorn appears, this one a mare.

"What was that?!" she asks the doctor, not noticing -- or not caring about -- me.

The doctor nods towards me with his head, and the unicorn follows his gaze to me.

By the time she can get a good look at me, though, my eyes are shut and my breathing is slow, as it would be in sleep. My heart continues its slow, sedate pace, only barely stirred by the surprise of the teleportation.

The unicorn groans and a cluster of hoofsteps tells me that she's turned around to face the doctor.

"That thing is asleep, doctor," she says, clearly annoyed."Besides, it's not a Sentient. There's no way it's the source of a magical aberration."

I hear the doctor snort quietly in amusement. "Sure, Twilight," he replies, his voice a quiet murmur. "After all, nothing in a book could possibly be wrong."

I crack open an eye to see Twilight scowling at him, then shaking her head. "Whatever. When it wakes up, bring it to the library. I want to examine it."

The doc shrugs. "If he agrees."

Twilight raises an eyebrow, then turns and departs without another word.

The instant she's out of earshot, I quit pretending to sleep and open both eyes fully. I give the doc an inquisitive look.

"That," he says quietly, "was Twilight Sparkle, resident Canterlot snowflake."

I smile faintly. "New?"

Doc nods. "Very. She got here about a day ago. Want some more coffee?"

I nod faintly, and he brings the cup to my lips again. This time, the coffee is cooler, and he lets me take a bigger sip from the cup. I close my eyes and use a tiny portion of the energy to build a seal. Another tiny bit goes to a quick scan of my body, cataloguing exactly what's wrong.

With a considerable effort of will, I pull the energy into two pieces and redirect it to the parts of my body that need it most. My broken shoulder begins to mend faster, as does my broken knee and leg.

I frown as I realize that there's almost no damage to my internal organs, ribcage, or skull, despite my fall. My throat is mostly fixes as well. Impressive healing, even for a trained doctor.

I look the doc in the eyes and murmur, "You are skilled. What is your name?"

He gives me a short grin. His eyes flash from normal to all yellow, with red irises and white pupils. He winks at me. "That," he murmurs, his voice much deeper than before, "would be telling."

An instant later, he's back to normal, acting as though nothing happened. I give him an odd look, then dismiss it and say, "Will you take me to Twilight?"

He blinks at me, scowling. "Whyever would you want to talk to her? Besides, I can't. You still aren't healed."

I grin a little at him. "She is interesting." I twitch a hand in an abortive attempt to gesture at the hospital. "This… isn't."

He gives me a flat stare. "It's a hospital. What did you expect? A fair?"

I grin wider. "In elf hospitals, people fight for their lives. Here, they wait to be healed."

The doctor snorts. "Your people have a very different sense of honor."

Abruptly, my shoulder clicks as the repaired ball fits into what's left of the socket, which begins to piece itself back together.

The doctor stares for a moment, then laughs, shaking his head. "Very quick healing. You'll probably be out of here in a couple days if you can keep that up. Still probably gonna be on crutches for two weeks at least, but you won't be trapped in this--" He grins a little "--boring old hospital."

I snort in amusement. "Anywhere but here, doctor."

Then my hip explodes into agony and I black out again.