Equestrian Guard

The whistles of the wind brushed through the tall grass among the trees, its branches moving about and its leaves flapping. One broke off, flying with the trail of the air flowing lower and lower to the ground past the rushing river, its water far from its Canterlot source. The leaf slowly drifted down onto the nose of a young child who slept peacefully. A sleep that had not come to him for such time for it was occupied by other means that he needed, wanted to do.

Althalos slowly came to wakefulness, his nose twitching to the touch of the single leaf. He sneezed hard, the leaf rose back up and continued its flight with the wind. His eyes no longer felt bounded, instead opening to the view of the leaves and branches that covered his view of the bright sun. It did not feel right seeing such sight, knowing that it should have been cloudy. Slowly he sat up rubbing his eyes clearing away any fatigue left and having a better view of his surroundings. Much trees surround him, the tall grass in which he had laid on being his comforter to a well rested sleep. His brown hair felt the touch of the air while his eyes took in how pretty it all looked around. He stood up, his legs shaking for a moment as if he had not used it for months.

Looking down to his chest, he saw that the wrap on him was gone and that his shirt was repaired. Inside though had the scar from the injury he received from the explosion. This thought brought two questions up: Where was he? Why was he here? The area he was in did not look familiar to him, and to make it worse there was no one around as there is no sign of camp. He started walking in a direction he was not certain about, and was hopeful that he didn’t come across any English as it would get him in trouble. The tall grass didn’t cause any trouble for him, it being pushed away like nothing, soft if anything which was not like the kind he would go through near his home. The touch by his hand ran by like silk, a rich commodity he imagined felt like. His ears faintly picked up rushing water, and to him was a good sign as it meant he could possibly figure out where he was.

He reached the edge of the river, looking left then right seeing where the water was flowing. Still he was not able to determine where he was for the river was also not recognizable. He could stay put and wait for whoever put him here, the sun still fairly high. He ignored the idea, waiting around for someone was boring to do if he was able to follow the river. He turned right and followed the flow of the calmly rushing water seeing the few fish swimming by him. The water looked clear, clean, crisp if anything, and he was thirsty. He knelt down and placed a hand into the water bringing it up to his mouth and drinking from it. For once it was refreshing, much better than the water the castle had stored. Then again, the stored water had run out a few days ago. He stood back up and continued walking.

The sun slowly made its way lower and lower as Althalos continued to walk by the river, still not found any signs of life other than nature that surrounded him. It was not the first time he was out alone in the wild, but the only difference was the ability to return home from the known terrain, which it was not. The water that was plentiful did not satisfy his hunger that remained with him for three hours. Three hours, he thought, realizing how much his feet ached from the non-stop walking by the river. He knew he needed to find something to rest in, a house or a horse stall if he had to, knowing it was to be cold. He took off his leather footwear, feeling some relief continuing on with his bare feet on the soft grass.

Again the sun lowered, the trees and beyond becoming darker and slightly not visible. He took a deep breath, knowing he had no choice but to leave the river and move further into the forest. This time the grass was much shorter, up to his ankles than before when it was up to his stomach. Around he listened to the few birds that chirped, the rest most likely having gone to sleep. His hunger grew, his throat having the weird yet familiar sensation when he has gone far too long without food. There were no mushrooms around him, and if there were he couldn’t eat it for he would not know if it could be harmful. Last time someone was reckless enough died of suffocation. He remembered the deep scratch marks on the victim’s throat as the body was taken away.

The feeling of the grass changed suddenly, and with little light left saw that it was even shorter. Looking around he saw that he stumbled on a pathway. He smiled greatly, finally a sign of someone that is close by to where he was. He couldn’t recognize the footsteps as it was too dark but he turned left figuring that was the way to the person’s home. Even if he went in the opposite direction it would still be a sign of life, of help for him to explain where he was.

A drop of water fell on his head, making him look up to nothing but leaves and further up the formation of clouds. Again another drop of water landed on his forehead. He was already tired of water, not wanting to have more for now. He placed on his footwear and sped up his pace as the rain picked up speed. Already the ground started to become mushy from the wetness and sped up even more, now slightly jogging. Now at regular pace he felt his head and shoulders beginning to feel a bit wet, his leather bag bouncing on his waist. It reminded him of the book that the man placed inside it, that being of interest to check out once he was indoors and dry. The rain picked up, the trees not fully able to protect him from the water that rushed down.

With one misstep he tripped, the book falling out onto the wet ground. Other items such as the leather book his father gave to him fell out as well, it containing his writings in practice when his father was still alive teaching him. He got up and quickly placed them both back inside his bag, hoping that it wasn’t too damaged. Then he realized the light coming from a small house. His face lit up, his legs moving quickly to reach the house. He was finally going to know where and why he was here.

The door was unlocked and he allowed himself in, seeing that no one was inside other than the fireplace producing light, and most importantly heat. He closed the door behind him walking slowly and looking around. The cooking pot first off which was by the fireplace, nearby a table with various foods: bread, carrots, apples, and some bowls. To his left he saw a large bed, by it an unlit candle on top of a small cabinet. Closer to his left was a large shelf that held many books and in the corner slightly hard to see was what looked to be armor for a horse. A small horse that is.

His stomach growled and his eyes turned back to the table. He placed his bag to the side and sat down, grabbing the loaf of bread and taking bites of it, his other hand grabbing an apple and eating that as well. Satisfaction came to him, humming to the relief of food filling his stomach. What he didn’t notice as he ate was who had entered the house a few minutes later. He stopped his eating when he heard a clearing of the throat, and when he turned around he saw what he didn’t expect. A small horse.

The small horse had the same feeling of confusion seeing that it was not a pony that had entered his house, but a bipedal creature. It wasn’t a Diamond Dog, nor was it a Minotaur, and those...can’t be paws or claws. He continued to stare, seeing what it could be putting the food down slowly. “No, no, eat,” he told it, trying to make his rough voice sound soft. It didn’t move, instead kept staring at him. He didn’t know what to do, and instead of him having a staring contest with it he just walked forward towards the fireplace. He sat down with his back facing the creature, seeing that there was no threat to come. Even if it did his training from the E.U.P. would still be of great use.

Althalos did not know what to do. He never experienced a talking horse-, pony, with wings too!Thinking it being from the folktales the traveling monks would speak of. And from the look of it, this was his home. He stared at the gray pony, having a better view of his white mane, and from where it stood before having brownish-gold eyes, not close to his blue ones, and a drawing of a blue flame on his rear. He then noticed the scar on its left cheek, not noticing that he had gotten closer to look at it. It turned around fast, making him move back startled. He looked at the bread and grabbed it, holding it in front of him gesturing to eat.

“Thanks,” the pony spoke, taking it by his wing.

Althalos remained seated, wondering what was to happen now. Is he going to eat me? He thought, shaking his head free from such idea.

“So who and what are you?” The pony asked suddenly. “I know well enough you’re not from here, and by Tartarus know you’re nothing that I’ve seen around Equestria.”

Equestria? Althalos further realized that he was no longer home, far from it. He stood up and went to his bag, which made the pony stand ready, and pulled out his book. He untied it and flipped to a blank page he can write on. He looked around to see if there was something he could use to write. He found a bottle of ink by the bookshelf at least.

The pony noticed what it wanted to do and he plucked a feather from his wing. He walked over to it and gave it. He returned to where he sat and waited for what it was writing. When it finished writing he was presented to it. [My name is Althalos.] it read. “Althalos?” He said. He placed a hoof onto his chest. “I’m Winter Ember. I’m surprised you can write in the same language as I can.”

Althalos didn’t understand what he meant, but continued with the next question being presented to Winter. [Where am I?] he wrote and showed him.

“Outskirts of Caval. South from Ponyville. Equestria,” Winter Ember answered. “Now answer my question of what you are. I’m a stallion pegasus.”

Stallion pegasus? Althalos wrote into his book. [A person. I am seven years old.]

Winter thought for a moment. “Still a colt then.” He noticed his, whatever held the book up. “What happened to your, whatever you call it? You get into a fight or something?”

Althalos didn’t write, this time nodding as he remembered his assistance with the men. He started writing again. [My hands are still sore from helping fight back the English.]

“Hands?” Winter said, then he went wide-eyed. “Hands! You’re a human.” He face hoofed himself, not realizing sooner of what was in front of him. He stood up and walked over to the bookshelf and pulled out a book that had folktales. He skimmed through the pages until he found what he was looking for. It detailed what a human was, or what the tale thought. Nevertheless, the description matched what he was seeing. He placed the book back to where it was. “How did you end up here, colt?”

[I don’t know. I woke up ~~lieing~~ lying down outside.] Althalos wrote.

Just like in the folktale. Winter didn’t know what to do with Althalos. In his gut, it told him to not let anypony know of his existence. He wasn’t sure why, why he wanted to keep the colt protected, and why he didn’t want to let anyone know. He then heard sniffling. Seeing the colt, he saw that Althalos was crying. He let out a sigh, not really being the affectionate type to others. Mistral Snow, she’s more affectionate than him. Oh Celestia, how am I gonna explain this to the bat? He thought. Apples being eaten he can deal with, but this.

He walked up to Althalos and held a wing over him. “Don’t worry colt, I won’t kick you out or anything. You can stay here if you want,” he said, feeling Althalos nodding on his chest. He turned to his right hearing the doorknob rattling to be opened. Quickly he brought Althalos to the dark corner by his armor. “Stay here,” he whispered. The door opened, revealing another gray pony walking in wearing a golden scarf that belonged to Winter during his tour with the E.U.P.. “Mistral! I didn’t expect you to come home so soon.”

Mistral shook a bit, stretching out her bat wings. She yawned out before speaking, “I finished what I needed to do early. Weird for me to be tired but I guess all the flying got to me.” She noticed the brown bag but did not bring it up.

“And you’re out in the sun. Your eyes must be dying.” He watched her walk over to the fire, but saw her stop midway and walk towards the table. There lying in plain sight was the apple bitten into.

“Winter...” She began.

“Yeah, yeah, I bit into your apple. My bad.”

“No, this wouldn’t be you,” she looked closer, seeing the small bite-marks. She turned around. “Who’s here?” She asked, her blue eyes locking to his brownish-gold.

Winter sighed, knowing well he wouldn’t be able to hide Althalos for long. “Now don’t freak out,” he turned and nodded to Althalos to come out. He watched him walk out then turned back to his love. “Mistral, this is Althalos, a-”

“Human...” She said softly, walking up to Althalos. She examined him, “Young, very young.”

“How did you know he was a human?” Winter asked.

She placed a hoof softly onto Althalos’ chin, turning his head. “My family back home used to speak stories about the legends of the Lunar Guard. I thought nothing of it, like any other folktale that was told to us.” She pulled her hoof back looking at him. “How did you get here?”

“The colt can’t speak, I believe he’s mute,” said Winter.

“‘Boy’. I believe the correct human term is ‘boy’.” She looked down seeing Althalos’ book. “I see.”

Winter raised an eyebrow. “You seem to be an expert, what more did your family speak of about the tales?”

“That was it. The only reference about a human was in the spoken legends of the Lunar Guard. About a warrior or something who had a boy and a girl that protected Princess Luna. Anything else was lost in time, like if somepony had hidden it from the world,” she move her wing to Althalos who had yawned. “You must be tired, come, you can sleep in our bed.”

“Our bed?” Winter questioned, meeting a glare from the batpony. “Right, our bed. Not like I sleep on the floor already.”

Mistral let Althalos in, moving the blanket over him. “Don’t worry young one, we’ll keep you safe.” She saw him nod, turning to his side after to sleep. She walked back to Winter. “Why did you try to hide him from me?”

“Didn’t know how’d you react seeing a mythical creature actually exist. But I guess I should have told you from the start seeing you’re well informed,” said Winter.

She hummed and nodded, brushing her head by his warmly. “We need to keep him safe.”

“Already decided on doing that.” He nuzzled her purple mane. “We’re far enough from Caval anyway. Even farther from Ponyville. Not on topic but did you hear about King Sombra’s return?”

“Quickly defeated by Princess Twilight and her friends once again, as always.”

“Yeah, guess magic really is all that’s needed.”

“Hush, what you’ve gone through before is enough reason why we need stallions and mares like you.”

Winter breathed out, slightly smiling. “Thanks.”