//------------------------------//
// Chapter 17 
// Story: The Mask Makes the Pony 
// by kudzuhaiku 
//------------------------------//

	The worst thing about all of this was that Wick Chandler was so calm. Angry, yes, but calm. Flicker sat in his chair beside Doctor Sterling, marvelling at how calm Mister Chandler was. His accent was even somewhat neutral, which was always a good sign. Astounded and a little afraid, the colt watched as Mister Chandler rubbed his temple. 


“So, ye thought it would be a wise idea to pick a fight with a bear… not knowing that Doctor Sterling ‘ere wasn’t going to run far, just far enough to give ‘imself some room to fight the bear. For whatever reason, ye thought that ye would give yer life so that the doctor and yer new friends might live.” 


Flicker nodded. 


“Yer a blithering idot, and alicorns bless ye, ye thick-headed little shit—”


“Wicked?” Doctor Sterling leaned forwards in his chair and baffled, he looked at his friend. 


“Oh, shut up, Sterling! This is all yer fault, ye know!” 


“My fault!” Sterling looked wounded. 


“Yar, yer fault! No offence, Sterling, but ye’ve let all those romantic notions ‘bout what it means to be in the gentry go right to yer fool ‘ead! Ye and yer noble ideas! Don’t get me wrong, Sterling, all of the nobles and the gentry should be like ye are, but yer in a damn ‘urry to die because of yer fantastical, romantical notions and yer sense of ‘onour. Now ye’ve gone off and infected Flicker with it! The two of ye deserve each other! Ye have nopony to blame for this but yerself, yer Lordship!” 


“So that’s it, then?” Doctor Sterling sat there, blinking, confused, and uncertain. 


“Are we to be punished?” Flicker asked, daring to speak without first being spoken to. 


“Ye bet yer bald ass yer gonna be punished!” The corner of Wicked’s mouth twitched as he tried not to laugh. “Because of yer carelessness, a sword given to yer care was broken. Yer gonna pay for it, Lad, and the guild will never again give ye another sword. So ye’ll be buying yer own from ‘ere out. Also, the two of you, yer gonna go and sacrifice together, and I expect that ye’ll be weeping great bloody martyr’s tears!” Wicked went silent and squinted at both Flicker and Doctor Sterling.


“Wicked?” Doctor Sterling looked puzzled. 


“Aye, the both of ye need to ‘urt… ye need yer bloody sacrifice… yer bleeding, bloody self-flagellating penance… yer both gonna give so much that it’s gonna ‘urt!” Wicked lifted his wooden leg and pointed at both Doctor Sterling and Flicker. 


Admonished, abashed, Doctor Sterling sank down in his chair, while Flicker dropped his gaze to the floor. 


“A fine, both of ye! A big bloody fine! Five hundred gold bits… each! And the two of ye are gonna march over to whatever charity ye fancy and yer both gonna bleed together like the two great louts that ye are! Ye’ll be giving yer fine to the charity and this will be over! Am I understood?” 


“Yes, Wicked, you are understood.” Doctor Sterling’s words were little more than a scolded foal’s whisper. 


Nodding, Flicker said nothing. He understood that there was a lesson here, and he needed time to think about it before he had something worthwhile to say. The punishment fit the crime, well, maybe it did, and it felt fair enough. Flicker felt that he was getting off light, but this was also his first serious infraction. 


“Charging a great bloody rabid bear with two rat stickers…” Wicked’s eyes bulged in their sockets and his ears pivoted around. He jammed his wooden leg in Flicker’s direction a few times, stabbing at the air, and he snorted as he tried to think of the right words to say. “Get out of my office, ye mealy, pudding ‘eaded ‘alf-wit!” 


“Sir, right away!” Flicker wasted no time getting away while the getting was good. 


“And don’t call me ‘sir,’ or I’ll ‘ave ye ‘ided!” Sucking in a deep breath, Wicked turned on the doctor too. “Get out! Get out! I can’t even look at ye right now, ye hoof-rag!” 


As Flicker retreated through the door and down the hallway, all he could hear was the sound of Wicked’s roaring, riotous laughter. It confused him, unsettled him, but he didn’t dare question it. The best that could be done in this situation, Flicker felt, was to be grateful for such a kind and charitable resolution. 







Feeling just a little bit dejected, his ears still ringing, Flicker huddled inside of the woollen frock coat. He was feeling just a little bit stupid at the moment, with hindsight being what it was, and he understood that the doctor could have dealt with the bear with magic at a distance. Of course, Flicker had not thought about that at all when he calculated the means of survival. 


Sighing, he resolved himself to bear the financial loss. He had to pay for one training sword, not too big of a deal, he needed to purchase a brand new sword, that was going to be expensive, and he had his fine to pay. That was going to sting a bit. Punishment had to sting a bit so one would learn from it. Trying to cheer himself up a bit, he reminded himself that he was coming away from this a better pony. 


Moving aside, he watched as some of the older apprentices moved on for their training. He didn’t get along with them, they saw him as a baby and spoke down to him. Soon, they would graduate and be fully fledged guild members. Watching them, Flicker wondered, had any of them killed a rabid bear? 


A wonderful smug feeling warmed the colt’s insides, but no sign of emotions could be seen on his face. One day, he would be like them, but he resolved to be somewhat nicer to the junior apprentices when they joined the guild. One day, he would have their respect, it was just a matter of earning it. 


With the crowd gone, Flicker continued on his way to the gymnasium. The morphine was wearing off, he could feel it, he could feel everything, but he wasn’t going to ask for more. It was good to suffer, suffering brought growth. Pain was progress. Piper and Hennessy were about to discover that. They were weak now, but one day, one day, they would know strength. 


But first, they had to suffer, just as he had spent the past year suffering. 




 


Standing near the doorway, Flicker examined the situation before him. Piper lay in a miserable heap in the far corner, out of the way, and Hennessy was being made to leap from post to post, which Hennessy wasn’t very good at. As Flicker watched, Hennessy went down in a tangle of legs and smashed into the floor, which was four feet down. 


Hennessy’s mistake was that he had stopped. Leaping from post to post, there was no time to stop, it was all about balance and momentum. The top of each post was just large enough for about one and a half hooves to be placed on. Pausing for any reason, like trying to get your balance, catch your breath, or figuring out where to leap to next, it meant a fall, most of the time. Flicker had learned to stand one legged upon the top of the posts and keep his balance. 


Ears pricking, Flicker heard the sound of Hennessy bawling as Mister Pepper berated him for being worthless and weak. White Pepper was actually one of the kindest, most soft spoken individuals that Flicker was acquainted with, and he knew that Mister Pepper hated being mean in any capacity. The fantastic Mister Pepper was a gentle sort with a soft spot for fuzzy, wuzzy kittens.


“Meow.” Spud rubbed up against Flicker’s left front leg for but a moment, and then went over to where Piper was sprawled out on the floor. The lumpy, wrinkly, misshapen, Tartarus-spawned cat climbed up onto Piper’s back, circled three times, and laid down upon the prone filly. 


“How did they do, Mister Pepper?” Flicker asked. 


“Miss Pie survived for a good forty five minutes,” Mister Pepper replied. He looked down at Hennessy, who lay on the floor, his sides heaving. “Mister Walker managed to make it to just a little past the hour mark, but I think he’s done for. Earth ponies.” The stark white unicorn snorted. 


“I didn’t make it to the half hour mark on my first day,” Flicker looked around the vast gymnasium and was filled with fond memories about all of the time he had spent here, the endless hours invested in making his body stronger, better, purging all weakness. 


“Miss Pie shows promising signs of being nimble, like you,” Mister Pepper said to Flicker. “Mister Walker shows signs of having great endurance, as expected, and I do believe he will be nimble with time and effort. He’s not nimble now.” 


This was good news, and it made Flicker happy. 


“I understand that you blew up a rabid bear with dynamite.” Mister Pepper’s eyebrow arched and he gave Hennessy an absent minded prodding with his hoof. 


Sighing, Flicker nodded, not knowing how he should feel about it at the moment. 


“I can deal with the plague,” Mister Pepper remarked, “but rabies scares me. Lost my friend that way. He was my fellow apprentice. We trained together, he and I. It was quite a long time ago. He was bitten by a bat, you see. His ear swelled up, turned black, and rotted off. Farlow started showing the signs… we tried some experimental zebra stuff, but it didn’t do no good. I was there when Mister Chandler and Doctor Sterling put him down. I held his hoof as he drifted off. Dosed him up on morphine and he just slipped away, all peaceful like. ‘Twas a mercy, it was.” 


“I’m sorry to hear that, Mister Pepper.” 


“We’ve lost more guild members to rabies than to the plague.” Mister Pepper let out a sad sounding sigh as his horn lit up, and he grunted as he picked Hennessy up from off of the cold, hard floor. “Come on, Mister Nicker, if you would please fetch Miss Pie, I do believe they have earned some rack time.” 


Bowing his head, Flicker nodded. 




 


Piper was almost weightless, or so it felt, and Flicker put her down upon the chilly tile floor of the shower room. She was frothy with sweat, her pelt was matted, and as he stood there, watching, she puked up a puddle of yellow bile. Beside her, Hennessy lay groaning. Mister Pepper had already excused himself, and was gone. The pea green frock coat hung from a brass hook on the wall. 


With a flick of magic, the levers for the shower were turned on and Flicker let the water flow. The water, cold at first, made his companions squirm, but the sooner they were used to discomfort the better. They had a lot to learn and a long, long way to go. The water, still icy cold, caused the bile on the tile floor to go swirling down the drain, which was between Piper and Hennessy. 


Fetching the bottle of liquid pine oil soap and arming himself with a brush, he contemplated who his first victim would be. After a time, he chose Piper. It was no different than bathing his sister, Knick-Knack, a task he had done hundreds of times, but he did feel a little apprehensive about it. He didn’t have to do this, this was a kindness, but he wished that somepony had done it for him. The memory of being miserable and crusted with sweat was unpleasant. 


Staring at the wall, Flicker lifted Piper’s back end from the floor, squirted a healthy dollop of pine oil soap onto his brush, and went to work. She squirmed, kicked a bit, and resisted, but it was easy enough to overpower her, just as it had been for Knick-Knack. This was a chore like any other, and he would just blank out until he had worked through it. 


“Too rough,” Piper whined as her legs flailed about in a useless, ineffective manner, “it’s so tender back there! Too rough!” 


His blank stare focused upon the wall while he worked, he ignored Piper’s whining and continued to scrub. There was a groan from Hennessy, who somehow managed to roll over and was now letting the hot water pour down upon his stomach. Piper floundered, still trying to resist, but then went limp as the last of her energy fled from her. 


A sulky, exhausted expression was on Piper’s face, which was framed by her soaked, waterlogged mane. After a few moments of mental resistance, which was all she had left, she closed her eyes and just tried to bear Flicker’s not too gentle ministrations, trusting him to do right by her. 


When at last, Piper was scrubbed from one end to the other, and still covered in soapy lather, she was dropped to the floor and left under the showerhead to rinse. Flicker still staring at the wall like a dim-witted dullard, grabbed Hennessy by the back end, and, ignoring Hennessy’s whiny drawls of protest, he began scrubbing the squirming earth pony colt. 


“Ow!” Hennessy cried. “Ow! Hey! Oow! Ooh! Stop! Stop, now I understand what Piper was going on about—hey! Ow! No, don’t pull my tail! Ow!” 


“I think he scrubbed the skin right off,” Piper whined as she tried to rinse the soap from her mane and keep it out of her eyes. “If you squirm, Hennessy, he’ll just scrub harder… hold still!” 


“You don’t know what he’s scrubbing! OW!” 


“Oh, yes I do!” 


Flicker ignored them and continued his task, unfeeling, uncaring, and his eyes almost vacant as he did what was best for them. His thoughts turned to his sister, whom he loved. Flicker missed her something awful, and he longed to see her. He gave a stern yank on Hennessy’s tail as the colt tried to wiggle away, and he continued his ruthless, relentless, hygienic assault upon his companion. 


Maybe it was time to visit home again…