Tovii

Desert awoke with a frantic gasp.

“...where...where am I? What the hell...”

It didn’t take long for Desert’s amnesia to wear off; he was still inside that cave. His legs and arms felt restricted, like they were nearly being crushed by weight. Come to think about it, that’s how his whole body felt. As his eyes focused, he saw that was buried under sand, up to his neck.

Desert shook sand and dust from his head and hair and sharpened his focus. The cave was now considerably darker than it was earlier. That was because now there was no exit to be seen. He groaned and pulled one of his front legs upwards; slowly his senses came back to him. He sweated from the heat in here, and the air was thin. He managed to get his front legs free and thus dug himself out from the pit, but his ears brushed against the top of the cave as he stood and stretched. That meant he was considerably higher up than when he entered this place.

He shook his legs free of dust as his heart began to settle down. This was one of many times that the country he loved and lived in had tried to murder him.

But now he had the predicament of getting out. He had no idea how long he was asleep for. Maybe a day? Hours? Or maybe just a few minutes? The longer it was, the more likely that the surface of the sand outside was much higher on the outside. Not good news.

“Wait a minute...my bag!” Desert exclaimed. He shot down and dug the sand away from where he sat previously. He pushed walls of dust and dirt aside till his hoofs scraped the stone wall he sat against, and eventually scooped out a handle. He pulled out the bag absolutely covered in sand and clutched it against him tight.

Strange. He hadn’t expected a reaction like that from nearly losing the bag. Was that because of the egg inside? He scooped it out and examined it: it was intact still, thank goodness.

Perhaps sometime after he discovered the egg in his bag, subconsciously something clicked in his head. This was a living creature for the most part, the only living thing not airborne nor microscopic for quite some distance. Though it could not speak, and it could not sense, it was alive, and Desert had a duty to protect it, both for the creature’s sake itself and the people who relied on him.

He had to think on that later, as it dawned on him that they would both be dead if he couldn’t get out of this cave. Desert put the egg carefully back in his bag and moved to one of the cave walls.

He lowered himself once more and dug at the base of the cave wall, scooping away the sand like a dog digging a hole. He dug deeper and deeper, but had no luck; there was no exit submerged here. He began to sweat more intensely from the heat of the cave and progressively dug along the base of the wall, moving along its side. This was hard work because the air in here was thin, the walls were warm and the sand was rough which scuffed his hoofs pretty bad. His shoveling grew more panicked with each hoof-full of sand he threw back.

But he kept going through the exhaustion and the fear, moving further and further along the wall. He huffed and panted with sweat dripping from his forehead, eventually he had to find the exit somewhere along this wall. Desert felt the panic in him continue to rise, but he pushed on. “C’mon...c’mon! Where is it?!” he called out.

His hoof clipped the edge of the entrance, and energy sparked from what felt like the pit of his soul. He dug harder and scooped sand back and away. Light peered in through a gap, the light of daytime. He squinted his eyes at its brightness even through a tiny gap like that. Desert dug harder and kicked sand in heaps away from the exit, before getting low and crawling between the sand and the stone cave.

He pushed through and once out, rolled onto his back from this new opening, free from the cave. He gasped in the clean air, his coat filthy with dust and dirt. Exhausted, but relieved to have unsealed his fate. He pulled the bag against his chest safely and held it there.

Why was he acting like this to an egg? Sure, it is an important resource to other people, and he wouldn’t exactly feel good about misusing it or threatening its life, but by the way Desert was acting you would assume that it had a special significance to him.

He stood up weakly on all fours, shaking himself down of dust (and practically making a dust storm of his own in the process) and looked up at the mountain besides him. The sun was still high up in the air. Desert didn’t feel any more parched or hungry than before so it must still be the same day. Perhaps he only passed out for a few minutes, perhaps out of fear.

The stallion rested against the great mountain and slumped to his flank; evidently it was too soon to stand. He felt the blood racing behind his eyes and under his fur, so he took slow breaths and closed his eyes. Despite his distracting heartbeat and the literal near-death experience just moments ago, this choice with the egg was now the biggest issue filling his mind. Maybe that’s just the way his mind worked.

“I should take it back to Irus in Ozka, but...” Desert thought on, “maybe I could...keep it? If I could bring him up and raise him, or her, they could be...a companion? No...that would be selfish.”

Maybe a decision like that would be selfish. It could hamper the conservation effort, maybe this one extra tawny eagle could save the species from years of endangerment, maybe even extinction. Saving a native species was a small piece to the puzzle of building up Zerca, but it was one Desert was happy to be a part of.

But on the other hand, perhaps this companion could help him with his own personal conservation endeavors. Having an eye in the sky would be a very useful tool in unfamiliar sands. Maybe this little bird could help Zerca in a very different sort of way. Maybe, if he knew how to take care of one of these guys, he could be some sort of companion. That would certainly solve a whole load of Desert’s issues. Maybe one bird wouldn’t be too harmful.

Again though, that could be cruel. This was a wild animal at the end of the day. Maybe it would be better for the eagle if he lived a normal life amongst his own kind, naturally, rather than forced to scout oases and temples, and carry messages and light tools.

He pulled the egg out and looked at it, “Hmmmmm...”

Desert knew he should take it back to Irus and the avian trust place. After all, like he thought, this one could be vital in repopulating the species. That was the whole point of today’s expedition. Desert knew the right thing to do with this egg was to hand it to Irus.

“Hmmmmm...”

Desert needed to pick up some more water now that his canteens were lost, so he had no choice but to head for Ozka. But should he hand the egg over to Iris? Or maybe head to the library instead for some research?

Desert gradually stood on his weary legs and began to walk around Kalvika Ta; he collected his manic thoughts and slowed his racing pulse with slow periodic breathing. He had to think through this issue with the egg though. He made his way for Ozka.

Was Desert so fervent in his quest to fix Zerca that he would steal and lie?

“I don’t know how you traveler-folks get the energy for those journeys. While you were making your mind up on whether to follow me or not, I was napping. In fact, I just woke up five minutes ago.”

Desert stood at the desk of the Ozka Institution of Avian Preservation. Well, its Zerca branch anyway, which didn’t live up to the expectations set by its corporate name. This place was like a cluster of refuge barracks, but then again most of Ozka looked like that. The walls were lined with contact information and details, as well as with maps of locations and trails through the Kurizi forest and some close landmarks of Zerca. There were a few ponies here, most were likely residents of Ozka, but a few had brighter colours that Desert had scarcely seen on a pony before. They were from the grasslands; a smaller detail which most wouldn’t care to remember, but it had been a while since Desert had seen colours so vibrant.

Desert definitely looked the scruffiest and most disorganized there. Though in his defense he had fallen off a temple pillar and nearly drowned in sand under a mountain, all in one day, so he let himself off.

Desert smiled at Irus, who stood behind the desk and hovered slightly above the ground with his wings. “Thanks. Besides, I dropped the canteens I had so I needed some more. Long story, involving a dust storm,” Desert said, with some shiny new canteens at his side.

Irus noted the sand in his coat and assumed he was telling the truth. “Uhhhh, didn’t you know there was one on the way? Everyone gets radio’d about it.” He quirked his brow.

“No, I just like walking in them from time to time.”

Irus squinted his eyes, confused.

“Sarcasm,” Desert shrugged, “been a while since I got the chance to use it.”

“Oh!” Irus smiled, “You need some practice.”

Desert chuckled a little bit as Irus continued, “Listen, I was thinking about earlier. What I said about you. I don’t think it was, well, entirely fair.”

Irus dropped to his hoofs from the air and tucked his wings away. He sorted out some papers and other items on the desk in an uncomfortable way and avoided eye contact. “I don’t think I was wrong, but maybe I could’a been more constructive about it. You’re doing your thing, and that’s fine. I just don’t get it.”

Desert nodded in understanding, “I know. I don’t expect many people to, in honesty,” he replied. By the way Irus was acting, he assumed Irus didn’t like apologizing.

“I still think you're crazy, no doubt. You do you, but sometimes you gotta think of you, right?” Irus smiled.

“I guess so.”

Irus leant on the desk, “Anything else I can help you with, Mr. Sun?”

Now was the time, if Desert wanted, to hand the egg over. It sat at his side in his saddlebag.

Thoughts raced through his head. Irus would not be very happy with him if he ever found out about this. Maybe he didn’t really deserve his payment if he decided to keep the egg. A slight trickle of sweat ran down Desert’s temple. Irus had noticed by now Desert was lost in his head. Actually, he had noticed that it seemed to happen quite a lot. He waved his hoof in front of Desert’s eyes, “Hey, you still in there?”

“Sorry.” Desert shook his head, “That’s everything,” he said with a small smile.

Irus tipped his hat and sat back on his chair. “If you ever stop by Ozka make sure you pop in, if for any reason just so I know you’re still kicking,” he said with a chuckle, “You stay safe now.”

“Will do.” Desert returned the smile.

“Back to the desert Desert goes.” Irus waved him away and looked through some forms on the desk.

And with that, Desert left the conservation building and made his way straight to the library.

Ozka was a pretty place, no doubt. It was sat right on the border of Zerca and the Kurizi, so there were both trees and small sandy dunes surrounding the buildings. Roots weaved their way under the sand and spiraled through the dunes like ropes, or webs even. These trees were ancient, older than any tribe, and it would be an impossible task to uproot any of them intact. Vast entanglements of spiraling roots and vines erupted from the sand into the air, only to find their way back into the ground, like a snake. In a way each and every tree here was connected, feeding off of each other's energy and water supply. Perhaps the lack of water was the reason they did that.

To the north, the Kurizi forest manifested in larger numbers of trees densely packed together; the further you saw the denser it became, until you saw nothing. To the south, the opposite effect was true for Zerca. Trees became smaller, weaker, and less densely packed together, until the sand was all that remained.

Desert walked to the library, which did actually look like a building and not just an army barracks. This one was wooden and painted, though the paint had been worn from the dust in the air over the years. He opened the door and entered.

The librarian at the back smiled warmly; she was an old, grayed earth pony. She had worked here in one capacity or another since Desert was a colt, but now she ran the place. It turned out a town as remote as Ozka only needs a handful of staff to keep a library operational. There were a few people in here, no number out of the ordinary.

“Back so soon, Desert?” She looked to him with a light smile, her tone deeply sarcastic.

Desert smiled back in return, “Yeah I know. Nice to see you. It has been a little while.”

The stallion walked down the entrance, he ritualistically glanced at the “Zerca’s history” section over on his right. He did this every single time he came to this library, and every single time there was just two books there, both of which he had read over a number of times.

“You wouldn’t happen to have any books on native animals, would you?” Desert made his way to the librarian, who gestured to the shelf behind her without so much as a heartbeat passing. An answer that should have been expected from a pony with a book as her cutie mark.

“You’re welcome,” she replied as Desert passed.

“Hmmmm...habitat of deserts, mountains, savannas, generally dry climates...diet of carrion, small mammals, insects, understandable...fledgling at around 12 weeks, wow...”

Desert had been sat at this desk for a fair while, now surrounded by a fair number of books about birds and their information. Each was open on the page of the tawny eagle, unsurprisingly.

But what was surprising however was the fact that Desert was enjoying this study. Throughout his life, there was very few things that could keep Desert’s attention for longer than five minutes. The history of Zerca was one of those things, but he could barely recall another.

Even more surprising was how much of this he was remembering, too. He skimmed and scanned over information, corroborated sources and cross-referenced facts with the information available. He smiled quite widely; it had been a while since he had enjoyed reading a new book (even if it was purely a factual one).

Next after trying to remember as much as he could, he researched and read over how exactly the bird developed and gestated inside the egg while under its parent’s care.

“A regular temperature transferred from the parent’s body heat...” Desert said quietly. He hoped the temperature of the room and the soft insulating fruit inside his bag was adequate for now, but he would have to use fabrics and some sort of shelter from the wind when he got home.

All this seemed easy enough. Desert’s confidence grew; perhaps this wouldn’t be so difficult. He continued to skim the pages and analyze the information; the particular book he held showed off photography and diagrams all about eagles and a variety of its species. Desert saw a particularly appealing photograph: a black and white image of a tawny eagle flying above a dead tree. He knew this was Zerca because of the blurry, hazy presence of Kalvika Ta in the background. It had writing underneath it:

An adult female tawny eagle, soaring in front of the Great Compass, 2584 AC. The image is entitled “Tovii Orvaa”, the ancient Zercan word for the eagle.

Desert knew what those words meant, and it wasn’t Zercan for “tawny eagle”. He frowned at the book; the words were actually an old proverb, roughly meaning “to fly is to survive, to survive is to fly”.

The proverb was referring to life in Zerca. Stay put, the sand swallows you up. Much like the dead tree in the photo. Keep moving like the birds, you will thrive. He ignored the annoyance that the book didn’t get the fact right and instead focused on that word.

“Tovii...” he whispered while looking into his bag. He saw the egg sat under the fruit.

The librarian cut off Desert’s trail of thought, “It took you long enough, but I knew you would get there,” she said and smiled from her desk.

Desert looked up to her, “Sorry?”

“I was wondering why you didn’t head over to the usual bookshelves, but I see it makes sense now,” she replied. “I’ve always said that it takes more time for some than it does for others.”

“I don’t think we are on the same page. Mind the pun.”

The librarian chuckled a little bit, pointing to Desert’s chair. He briskly checked whatever it was she was pointing at.

“No no no, your leg Desert. Not the chair.”

And there it was, a mark on Desert’s thigh: it was two white feathers, tipped black.

It wasn’t entirely uncommon for those born in and around Ozka to struggle finding their exact place in life; older folk than him had waited longer for theirs to reveal itself, many discovered themselves after moving to Equestria. But Desert thought he had his nailed down and he was just waiting for that one event to show it. Maybe a map, or perhaps something that symbolized an artifact.

But a feather? His skills, his destiny, involved...birds? All his life he assumed it would be about Zerca. This didn’t exactly turn his life on his head; it’s not like you can’t have more than one interest and pursuit in life after all, but still. It was definitely a surprise.

“Everything ok?” the librarian enquired. Desert’s mind, once more, had trailed off.

“Yeah...yeah, everything's ok.” Desert smiled.

He swept together the books and parted with most of them, but kept one that detailed care for eggs and the chicks they produced. “I’ll take this one, please. To rent,” he said to the librarian.

She nodded in return, “I thought you would be more excited about your mark?”

“Well, maybe so.”

“Not what you were expecting?” the librarian continued.

“Not entirely,” Desert leant on her desk, “I always thought it would be a map. Guess this isn’t exactly how I imagined it.”

“I can see that you’re slightly disappointed.”

“I was never very good at hiding that, huh.” Desert smiled a bit, to which the librarian nodded in agreement.

“Well, these things come up sometimes,” the librarian said as she stamped the inside of the book, “if life was straightforward, we wouldn’t need a book every now and then, huh?”

“I guess so.” Desert smiled. He took the book, nodded in departure to the librarian, and headed out the door.

“Man...my cutie mark?” He thought. “I had completely forgot...I wonder what it means.”

He returned to that word that hovered in his head as he left the building. “Tovii...” he said. Desert peered into the bag again. “That’ll be your name. Tovii. To fly is to survive.”

A hint of guilt lingered in his thoughts as he passed the conservation barracks though. Desert knew he did the wrong thing in many ways. But if he could just make it work, perhaps Tovii could help rebuild this place. He would make a perfect scout after all. But maybe it was appropriate for Desert to give him the choice to leave, when the time came. That would be the fairest decision; if Tovii stayed then Desert could rest easy.

Desert walked for the border of Ozka back to the Zercan plains, before a voice stopped him.

“That was a hard decision to make. Perhaps a decision that doesn’t have a correct answer, one way or another.”

Desert turned to his side to see a lightly cloaked stallion, leant against a shack. From what he could tell, this man had a purple mane with a white coat, and golden yellow eyes. He was stood above some wooden planks and pallets.

“Excuse me?” Desert replied to the stranger.

“Hmmm?” In return the stranger looked up to Desert.

“You said something to me.”

“Oh,” the stranger smiled, “sorry sir, I was just talking to myself. It’s these pallets, they’re dense enough to be used for the foundation, but firm enough to be side walls. Whichever one is correct will leave someone short on something.” he said as he tapped his hoof on the wooden supplies, deep in consideration.

“My apologies.” Desert nodded respectfully and continued his walk.

“Perhaps what works for me will work for now. But I shall not make a habit of it.”

Desert turned once more to the man, who was making his way into the town with the wooden planks. Desert shook his head in confusion at the strange encounter, before he headed back into the wilderness of dust.