I will always remember that with my knowledge I am to heal the sick and injured and so will place their wellbeing as the highest of goals, above all others.

―Excerpt of the medic’s oath that is taken by all members of the medical field, regardless of occupation within, upon graduation from their training.

I slowly became aware of the sunlight piercing through my closed eyelids, forcing me awake when all I wanted to do was rest. Letting out a weak groan, I made to roll over in an attempt to shield my vision from the blinding, unwanted intrusion.

Suddenly, I heard the a clattering of hooves as a shadow fell over me, blocking the accursed sun. Simultaneously I felt a hoof gently push against my chest, coaxing me to keep my back firmly against the mattress.

“Easy, honey. Just lie still,” a soft female voice instructed me.

Complying, I shifted myself slightly to get more comfortable, letting out a contented sigh in the process, and awaited for the gentle lull for sleep to retake me.

Wait! Hoof? Soft voice? That wasn’t Gilda.

Snapping my eyes open, the world that greeted me was fuzzy and out of focus. However, it didn’t need to be clear for me to know that the orange and yellow blob didn’t belong amongst the earthy tones that composed the rest of the room.

“W-who’s there,” I weakly called, hating myself for the frailty of my voice.

“It’s alright,” the blob said, laying a hoof on my shoulder that I unconsciously recoiled away from. “You’re fine, you passed out last night from blood loss, do you remember?”

Suddenly, the events of the night before came back to me in a rush. Every excruciating moment seemed to piece itself together until I could remember everything from the touch of the cold metal to the smell of burning hair. However, I only felt joy at the memory, pure and unadulterated; I had finally gotten rid of that loathsome mark that had plagued me for too long.

As I lay there, my vision slowly began to focus, gradually revealing a mare looking at me with kind green eyes. She was coloured a light orange complemented by a yellow mane done up in a loose bun. Her most eye catching feature was the horn that protruded from her forehead, glowing bright yellow as it hummed with unknown magics.

“Ah, he’s awake I see,” said a soft-spoken male voice from the other side of the bed. Slightly alarmed, I turned my head only to find myself face to face with a yellow coated griffon. He seemed to be in reasonably good health, a lot better than others that I had encountered, though his build was skinny in such a way that it gave his posture a severe, even predatory, sharpness. Interestingly, he had a pair of armless moon shaped glasses that set perched on his dark grey beak, enhancing the stern expression he was giving me.

They both seemed to be around middle age, he with greying around the tips of some feathers that appeared sporadically throughout their otherwise black expanse and she by the slight greyness that were at the very roots of her mane.

“What’s going on? Who are you?” I questioned, whipping my gaze repeatedly between the two of them.

“Well to paraphrase,” the griffon spoke in a strict tone, “you lost an extensive amount of blood last night, not to mention the massive lacerations on both of your flanks, both of which required serious medical attention.” His eyes seemed to grow sharper for a moment as he continued. “Attention that my wife and I were hired to perform.”

“What my husband means to say,” the mare continued with a role of her eyes, “is that I’m Golden Poppy and he’s Doctor Frederick.”

By now, I believed I was fully awake, though I wasn’t entirely sure. Everything just seemed so surreal, from the lack of pain to the apparent marriage between a griffon and pony. If my conversation with Gilda last night was any indication, the idea of such a union was one of the deepest taboos for both species.

As I contemplated the strangeness of the situation I began to struggle to pull myself to a sitting position. Unfortunately it seemed that I was still weak from last night and so I wasn’t able to make much progress until Golden Poppy looped her hooves under my armpits and gently pulled me up.

“Is that better?” The orange unicorn asked, “Now if you have any questions for us then don’t even hesitate.”

“How is it that I don’t feel anything? Shouldn’t I be lightheaded from blood loss or something?” I asked hesitantly, cautious as to not say anything that would be obvious in their eyes.

“My horns not glowing for the pretty light show, Honey.” Golden Poppy softly giggled, “I’m casting an aesthetic spell for the pain. It makes the treatment a little bit easier on you.”

“As for the blood loss,” the griffon spoke up, “I utilised a healing stone to speed up your metabolism so that you could replace the blood that you lost. It also had the side effect of causing your wounds to heal at a faster rate, so they aren’t so deep now. Granted, had you lost much more than the outcome would have been nowhere near as happy as it is. You’re quite the lucky stallion.”

Staring down at my forehooves, it took my brain a moment to fully process the doctor’s information. Honestly, near the end of previous night I had thought that I would be dead come morning, though I was glad that I was proven wrong.

Shifting myself slightly, I became aware of an object that moved against my chest with a slight jingle. Looking down I noted with a smirk of amusement that it was the coin bag I had acquired the other day. I supposed that I had forgotten to take it off when I went to bed and that in the commotion no one had paid it any mind. Picking it up and examining it closely, I realised for the first time that it was made of a brown sturdy cloth and not leather like I had unconsciously assumed. The moment when I had stolen it from that noble seemed like it didn’t really happen, an act performed by a man who wasn’t truly me.

I noticed out of the corner of my eye the two medics give each other a conspiratory look, evidently believing that I wasn’t looking.

Subtly the good doctor gave a slight incline of his head. “Well I’ll go let Gilda know that you’re alright and discuss our payment.” Without waiting for a response, he quickly exited the room, shutting the door behind him with a soft click.

Without any further warning Poppy seized my shoulders with her hooves whilst balancing on her back legs.

“Now honey, Gilda,” when she said her name she turned to shoot the door a dirty glare, “has already paid us a substantial amount of meat to not ask any questions, but just answer me this: was she the one who did this to you?”

“Wh-what?” I stammered out in shock, outraged at the very suggestion, “Gilda saved me. Without her I would be dead.”

For several seconds, the orange mare stared at me, searching for any sign of something suspicious. Eventually she gave a small nod of her head. “Okay, I believe you. Now let’s not speak about it anymore.”

Returning her nod in affirmation, we lapsed into an uncomfortable silence, although I caught her eyes drifting down towards roughly where my hips were shrouded by the blanket. Though I was annoyed at Poppy for just assuming that Gilda had been the one to hurt me—even though it was technically true—I was willing to let it slide. Really, I respected the couple that they would be willing to forgo payment to ensure the wellbeing of their patient.

“Honey, I hate to be the one to tell you this,” she suddenly spoke, a look of intense sadness filling her features, “but I think that you might take it better from another pony rather than my husband. He’s a dear and I love him, but he doesn’t understand some things about us ponies.”

Poppy’s referral to me as a pony caused me to slightly tense my forehooves, but I managed to relax them again once I brought my irrational anger back under control. I couldn’t really blame her, she didn’t know any better. I had a vague idea where she was going, though I couldn’t risk interrupting the conversation without making things look even more suspicious than it already was.

“It’s about your cutie mark… ” Quickly she seemed to lose her resolve as her speech trailed off. At my marks mention I felt my chest tighten and I had to enact all of my self control to prevent myself from demanding her to continue immediately.

Taking deep steadying breaths she continued, “I’m afraid... I’m afraid that the cuts were too deep, you cutie mark will never grow back.”

As she finished the triumph and relief I experienced was instantaneous as it felt like my spirit could soar to the heavens. I could begin to feel the edges of my mouth turning up to form a triumphant smile.

I had done it! I had beaten Celestia at her own sick and twisted game and banished the chains that sought to bind me in servitude into oblivion.

“Honey, are you okay?” questioned a hesitant voice that startled me back to reality. Silently cursing myself for getting carried away by my emotions, I gave a small nod. Luckily, it seemed that Poppy’s distress was making her blind to my poor acting.

“Not even a little bit?” I asked in a soft voice, doing my best to hide my true feelings about the situation.

I was suddenly pulled into a warm embrace as a hoof gently stroked my back.  As Golden Poppy had me rest my head on her shoulder, I let loose the grin that I had been suppressing, it stretching so wide it felt like my face would split in two.

“No, I—I’m sorry but it will only be scar tissue,” she replied with a slight sniffle.

“Oh, okay,” I spoke in an almost whisper.

We sat like that for a while, with Golden Poppy gently rocking me back and forth and whispering comforting reassurances, even though it sounded like she was struggling to hold off her own tears. While I was grateful for the intent of the gesture, as minutes passed I was beginning to feel bad for the sheer amount of emotional distress that this was causing Poppy. Unfortunately, there was no real way for me to interrupt it first without it looking suspicious. 

Thankfully, our impromptu hugging session was eventually interrupted by a series of swift knocks on the door, followed by it opening inwards a few inches to permit a head to peek through, whilst I struggled to re-establish my usual neutral expression.

“Is everything alright?” asked Frederick as he peeked into the room, not being very subtle with the loaded nature of his question.

Glancing back at me with a sniffle, Poppy gave a small nod. “Yeah Freddy, everything’s fine.”

“Well, that’s good then,” began the doctor, “Now th—.”

“Let me through,” interrupted the unmistakable voice of an angry Gilda from behind the door, “I have a bone to pick with your patient.”

Without warning the door was forced inwards, leading it to bang rather violently against the wall and pushing the doctor up against its’ frame.

As Gilda made her away across the room, I saw a venomous glare etched across her face. This was by far the angriest I had ever seen her, which when taking into account the number of times she had been angry in the short time I had known her, made it a rather terrifying prospect. As soon as she reached me she drew back her claw and delivered an angry punch to my arm, causing Poppy to shriek in surprise.

As pain exploded from my arm, I saw stars gather at the edge of my eyesight whilst it felt like the bone had snapped under the force imparted onto it.

“If you ever do something like that again then I swear by the ancestors that I’ll kill you myself. Are we clear?”

Staring at the talon pointed at me accusingly I swallowed the lump in my throat and nodded.

“Are we clear?” The griffoness repeated her claw drawing back and clenching into a first threateningly, “answer me.”

“That’s enough, Gilda,” Golden Poppy interjected, spreading her forearms out protectively. “The poor dear has had enough without you coming and only making things worse.”

Laying a hoof on her shoulder, I gently, but firmly, returned one of her forearms to the ground.

“We’re clear,” I groaned, resisting the urge to rub my newly forming bruise. Remarkably, the painful throbbing seemed to fade almost immediately. Whilst I was pleasantly confused for a moment, I eventually attributed it to Poppy’s spell.

During our short exchange, Frederick had made his way over to us, and stood at the foot of the bed, the cutlery precariously perched on the plate he was carrying rattling all the while.

“Now, Gilda, that’s enough,” he said angrily, locking eyes with the griffoness, “my wife and I have only just managed to bring him back from the brink. I refuse to have you mess it all up just because you can’t control your temper.”

For a few tense seconds it looked like Gilda was going to take things further as she stared back, her wings half-spread in a animalistic display of defiance. Without any warning, her posture relaxed, and her wings returned to their position at her sides.

“Sorry Doc, I might have got a bit carried away,” she said with a huff, sounding decidedly unapologetic.

During their exchange, Poppy had taken to examine the area where the punch had landed, running over it with gentle hooves and an appraising eye.

“I’m sorry honey,” she spoke in a kindly tone, “but that’s another bruise you’ll have to add to the collection. Look on the bright side, at least it’s nowhere near as bad as that one on your jaw.”

Remembering my fight with Shining Armor, I slowly raised my hoof up to my jaw, feeling a swollen area about the size a marble. Slightly curious about the extent of Poppy’s spell I jabbed the tip of my hoof into the bruised flesh, producing a muted tingling sensation and the knowledge that it was as hard as a rock.

Before I could experiment any further, Poppy gently grasped my hoof with her own and placed it down on the bed sheets. “Now careful, my spell may mask the pain and Freddy’s speed up your healing rate, but it doesn’t mean that it isn’t there. Just be gentle with yourself for a while. We don’t want to make anything worse, now do we?.”

As things simmered down, Frederick moved himself over to the other side of the bed so that he was now standing next to his wife.

“Now that we are all calm, may I please finish things up here?” He questioned in the same detached monotone.

Looking around we all gave a guilty nod. Even Poppy, rather amusingly.

Stepping forward, he placed a plate of food in front of me. Lying on the plate looked to be something that at least vaguely resembled meat, though the colour and apparent consistency just looked off.

Directing my gaze at Frederick, I stared at him questioningly for several moments. It seemed that he caught onto my scepticism if his raised eyebrow was any indication.

“Just eat it,” he commanded.

“No thanks,” I replied, “I’m not really hungry.”

“You’re not now, but the treatment I gave would normally have left you extraordinarily hungry. You only don’t feel it because Golden Poppy’s spell suppresses the sensation. Trust me, things will be a lot more comfortable if you do it this way.”

Picking up the provided fork I reluctantly stabbed it into one of the unappetising chunks and brought it to my mouth. The taste could only be described as odd. Whilst in the loosest of definitions it tasted like meat, the consistency was too soft to be even close. After forcing down the mouthful that I had, I was left with an unpleasant aftertaste that did little to encourage me to take another bite.

Apparently my thoughts were clearly shown on my face, as Frederick immediately gave voice to my objection. “I know that it’s rather unappetising, but feat is the only real thing that Gilda has that is suitable for a pony. You’ll just have to grin and bear it.”

“You’re tougher than me,” Poppy piped up, a shudder running through her body, “I can’t stand the stuff. It tastes too much like meat for me to be even remotely comfortable.”

Through a great amount of struggle I managed to choke down another piece of the feat, trying my hardest not to bite down on it to avoid the bulk of its taste and texture.

Surveying me for a moment, Frederick gave a nod of approval before launching into his speech. “Now, the metabolic acceleration I gave you has left you malnourished and weak, so for the foreseeable future, I suggest that you maintain a healthy diet and a reasonably active lifestyle to help build back up the muscle mass you lost. But before all that, you are not to move a single inch from that bed for the next week. You still don’t have the optimum amount of blood, and those wounds of yours are still too delicate to risk.”

Pausing for a moment, he whipped off his glasses and wiped them several times, using the coat of his partner.

“Stop that,” The orange mare giggled, playfully swatting away his arm.

For a second, he seemed to gaze at her with the same slight frown, but it soon broke into a wide grin, the first change in his expression I had witnessed from the stoic griffon.

“Well it’s not my fault,” he replied with a joking tone, “I told you to not make your coat so soft if you wanted me to stop.”

Not waiting for her reply, he darted in and gave her a peck on the cheek, an affection the shorter mare returned by gently nuzzling into his side.

“Ahem,” Gilda coughed into her claw, rolling her eyes at the display.

The two broke apart, Frederick blushing furiously whilst Poppy merely grinned. Despite this though they still remained closely pressed into each other, a content smile gracing both of their faces.

“Anyway,” he resumed, obviously trying to mask his own embarrassment for his public display of affection. “I’m afraid that once we leave, your injuries will cause you a reasonable amount of pain. However, there is something that might be able to help you, if you are willing. I’ll let my wife explain as it’s really her forte.”

“Thanks Freddy,” the orange mare spoke, rewarding him with another nuzzle before turning to address me. “I have something that could replicate the effects of my spell, though it is a bit unprecedented.”

Breaking apart from her spouse, Golden Poppy went over and began rummaging through the saddle bags that I had just then noticed were leaning up against the wall. Trotting back toward the bed, she deposited a rather nondescript pouch onto my lap.

Picking it up, I loosened the cord with some difficulty and peered inside curiously.

“Vials?” I disappointedly asked. By the way they were building it up I was expecting something far more impressive. Tipping the contents out onto my lap revealed that they contained some sort of liquid that looked to be muddy reddish-brown in colour.

“Yeah, it’s a remedy I created that contains a diluted extract I get from poppies,” she answered enthusiastically, “my cutie mark isn’t just for show.”

As if needing to prove the fact to me, she turned to her side slightly and displayed her mark, a golden flower—which I could only assume was a poppy—with each individual petal being in the shape of a heart.

Catching sight of the accursed thing, I gave a slight start and unconsciously flinched backwards.

My reaction seemed to provoke a further response in Poppy, as a look of sadness once again clouded her features. “Oh, I’m sorry honey, I didn’t think.”

Hurriedly, I searched my mind for anything that I could do to change the topic. Bringing back the cutie mark discussion would not be a smart idea when every moment I had to talk about it made it even more likely for her to discover that something wasn’t right. Suddenly her name and the vials that I had received seemed to click together in my mind and a realisation dawned.

“Umm... Poppy,” I began awkwardly, “this extract of yours, it isn’t Opium by any chance?”

It seemed that my distraction did the trick as a look of confusion overtook her features.

“How did you know that?” The disbelief plain in her voice, “I’ve never heard of anypony who works with poppies like I do.”

I mentally cursed myself for my panicked solution. I had traded one suspicious circumstance for another, and this time I couldn’t think of anything that wouldn’t make the situation infinitely worse.

“I’m not sure, I must have read about it somewhere,” I replied lamely.

If Poppy was suspicious of my answer she didn’t show it, only giving me a small nod.

“Okay, then,” she accepted, “If you feel that the pain is becoming too unmanageable just take about half a teaspoon no more than once every five hours.”

“Now,” interjected Frederick, “I think it is time for my wife and I to be off. It has been a tiring night for us all and we could all do with some rest.”

As if on cue the orange unicorn at his side gave an enormous yawn, prompting me to notice for the first time the dark bags underneath both their eyes.

“I think you might be right Freddy. I just need to deactivate the numbing spell and we can get home and enjoy ourselves,” Poppy said, giving a suggestive wink.

“Now hold on,” I started, feeling alarmed enough to ignore the enormous blush that overtook Frederick's features, “how long until I start feeling pain again?”

“Don’t worry honey,” Poppy spoke soothingly, “it should take over half an hour until you can even hope to feel something, more than enough time to drift off and have a nice long rest.”

“I trust that you two a bit to discuss,” interjected Frederick, nonchalantly gesturing to myself and Gilda.

The couple then began to gather up the various medical supplies lay around the room. Poppy also collected the numerous vials of Opium mixture that lay on my lap, returning most to the pouch from which they originated. However, she did manage to place one on the nightstand that stood alongside the bed, her hoof movements looking clumsy and inexperienced.

Once everything was ready and both the griffon and mare had their bags across their backs Frederick made to speak again. “Well, good day then. I hope that you feel better soon. Don’t be afraid to contact me if anything worries you.”

“Also, honey,” Poppy added, “if you need to talk about anything, all you need to do is ask. I’ll call around in the next day or two to change your bandages but if you can’t hold out ‘till then just get Gilda to ask for me and I’ll be here in a flash.”

“Yes, thank you,” I replied with a small nod of acknowledgement, “I’ll make sure to keep both of your offers in mind should I need them.”

As the couple turned to leave Gilda made to follow them, though she was halted by an upraised claw.

“Don’t worry Gilda we can see ourselves out,” the doctor spoke dryly, “I hardly think we will get lost on the way out.”

“Frederick!” Poppy scolded, “that wasn’t a very nice thing to say.”

“I didn’t mean it like that dear,” replied Frederick, “it was a simple statement of fact.”

Even though Frederick had inadvertently insulted Gilda, the couple seemed to make no move to stop and apologise and were quickly lost from view. Despite this, the room was still filled with their good natured bickering, right up until the moment when it was muffled by the shutting of the front door.

For several moments, Gilda and I remained in silence, both awkwardly catching glimpses of the other when we thought the other wasn’t looking.

In the quiet, I began to slowly deconstruct everything that had happened to me in the past two days. It scared me how close I had came to falling prey to external machinations in the form of that mark. However, it was abundantly clear that I owed all my thanks for avoiding it to a single person. I knew then what I needed to do, a Ford always pays his debts and I was no exception.

“Gilda,” I began, “For the second time, I owe you everything. I have to repay you for it.”

“Well, that purse looks a little light, but I’ll accept that to start. The doctor wasn’t cheap.” By the way she spoke it seemed that she was trying to tell a joke to break the tension, though her deadpan delivery meant I couldn’t be completely sure

“No, money is not enough for what you have done for me,” I forged ahead, staring straight into the griffoness’ eyes, “Celestia sought to rob me of everything that I am, and in some areas I fear that she succeeded. I have no home to return to, no job to work for and until now, nothing to strive towards each day. But right now, I feel something that I haven't felt since I was brought into this nightmare. Do you want to know what it is?"

"Sure," she replied, her eyebrow raised in interest.

"Victory," I said with a grin, "Victory, and more importantly, purpose. Seeing all this," I began, pointing out the window, “has given me purpose. You, Gilda, have given me purpose and even if I spent a lifetime at your beck and call, I wouldn't have even begun to repay that debt. So in that case, I shall have to settle for the next best thing."

"And what would that be?"

"I'm going to set the griffons free." 

Silence reigned throughout the room as Gilda stared at me wide eyed in utter shock for a moment, before her expression hardened. “That’s a serious claim you’re making,” She spoke scornfully, “Do you really think that griffons are suddenly going to start following some random pony that walks up to them?”

“But you forget Gilda,” I said, trying to sound more sure than I was, “I’m not a pony. Humanity has quite the record of righting injustices, through whatever means necessary.”

For a second, Gilda looked at me searchingly. “And just who was responsible for these injustices?”

“What do you mean by that?” I questioned indignantly.

“Exactly like I said,” Gilda snapped back, “what species?”

“Umm...” At Gilda’s inquiry my first instinct was to lie, all I would need to do was recount the plot of the first vaguely relevant movie that came into my head. However, I could not bring myself to do it, not after the leap of faith she had taken in believing me. She deserved to know the whole truth.

“Other humans,” I admitted, “We have a long record for righting injustices, but we also have one for causing them.”

“And what is it you’re even going to do that’s even gonna achieve anything?” she asked sceptically.

“Err... well I’m not too sure,” I admitted, “I suppose I can start off by writing some of the ideas down so that we can distribute them. Pamphlets, you know.”

My—admittedly weak—plan only seemed to produce a snort of derision from Gilda, “If that’s all you plan to do, then you might as well do it,” she dismissed with a shrug, “It’s not like you’ll be going anywhere for a while.”

Once again, we lapsed into silence until a rather unusual expression overtook the griffonesses face as every muscle in her body seemed to suddenly tensed without warning.

“Something the matter?” I questioned, concern filling my voice.                  

For a moment, it looked like I wasn’t going to receive a response, but after a lengthy pause, the griffoness began to speak, “It just hit me how weird this whole situation is. I have a pony who claims he isn’t a pony sleeping in my bed. Even if you aren’t what you say you are—.”

“I am,” I interrupted with an angry scowl.

“Even if you aren’t what you say you are,” Gilda repeated breathlessly, “you are still a pony who basically cut off his own cutie mark and somehow managed to get me to help him do it.”

“It is rather strange,” I admitted, “believe me if—.”

“And on top of all that,” the griffoness continued, “he is now going on about doing something that is almost certainly completely impossible, that every griffon who’s ever tried was left broken and beaten down.”

As soon as she had finished, Gilda sucked in a deep breath, her muscles relaxing and her shoulders drooping slightly.

“Feeling better?” I gently questioned.

Receiving a nod in return, Gilda let out a mighty yawn. It proved to be contagious, as I soon let out my own that was so wide I struggled to properly cover my mouth.

“I think that I might go and get some shut eye,” Gilda said tiredly.

“Where are you planning to sleep?” I asked in a voice that shared the same weariness.

“Where do you think? she began, jerking her thumb in the vague direction of the living room, “The couch.”

“Gilda, I can’t let you do that in your own home. I’ll take the couch.”

Not waiting to give her the chance to argue, I began to struggle to throw the covers off my legs.

“Don’t be stupid,” Gilda snapped, roughly grabbing hold of my back legs and forcing them to remain still, “You need the bed more than I do. Don’t go and screw everything up by trying to be the gentlecolt for something that doesn’t even matter.”

“But I can’t go and take so much from you and then take even more,” I argued.

“You said you owe me,” she began threateningly, squeezing my legs for emphasis, “and I wasn’t joking about killing you earlier.”

“Okay, okay,” I conceded, gesturing with my two forehooves for her to calm down, “You win. Take the couch.”

“Good. Now, have a good sleep,” she said with a curt nod.

As aggressively as she entered the room, she left, shutting the door behind her rather forcefully.

Slowly, I managed to shift myself so that my head was once again resting on the pillow. Each wiggle of my hips causing a slight tingle of pain that I knew would be nothing compared to what I would experience once I woke up.

Letting out a tired sigh, I quickly drifted off into a thankfully dreamless sleep.