//------------------------------// // Chapter 20 // Story: The Mask Makes the Pony // by kudzuhaiku //------------------------------// The Weeping Sister Hospital was a little over nine hundred years old and one of the oldest buildings in Canterlot. It had been named during a time when ponies still remembered Princess Luna, whom ponies believed had died that fateful night when Nightmare Moon had attempted to overthrow the Royal Pony Sisters. Over time, over centuries, Princess Luna’s memory faded and it became a great mystery as to why this place of medicine was called ‘The Weeping Sister Hospital.’ This was a place of hope, a chapel that could renew the fading spirit of equinekind in a body. This was a place where miracle workers resided. The staff that worked in the hospital lived here in exchange for the care that they offered and there was no pay to be had, only room and board. Flicker had heard Doctor Sterling say that this place was a bastion of decency, a fortress where the finest, most selfless souls of ponykind could be found. Doctor Sterling himself volunteered here when he was needed. Flicker looked around the lobby, there were a lot of guards here, and Flicker wondered about the reason why. The sound of all the armor jangling made his ringing ears ache just a little. He followed after Doctor Sterling as the doctor wove through the crowd, marvelling at the guards and their majestic bearing. A charcoal black mare with a dark green mane stopped and stared at Flicker with wide eyes. “We have an admission!” she cried in alarm. “No, no, he’s fine, I assure you,” Doctor Sterling said to the mare, who was now in a panicked state. “He doesn’t look fine!” The mare’s lips puckered and she blew her mane out of her eyes so that she could get a better look at Doctor Sterling. “I was blown up with two sticks of dynamite,” Flicker said, offering up information to be helpful. “I had a big fight with a rabid bear and I blasted him into smithereens. When it was over, I was put back together with body spackle.” “Mister Nicker, do shut up, you are not being helpful, not at all.” Doctor Sterling gave the mare a sheepish grin after speaking and backed away a few steps. “He’s just a colt.” The mare got up into Doctor Sterling’s face and she looked more than just a little cross. “Is this your son? How could you let this happen? What sort of father allows his son to be menaced by a bear? And dynamite? Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t get in touch with Twilight Velvet and report this!” “He also mulched hundreds of rats with heavy farm equipment, I was there,” Piper said, sounding cheerful and upbeat. “Then we gassed a bunch of pests. Later, we blew up a rat burrow and we gassed them too. We went on a spree of murder across the countryside and Mister Nicker set many of our victims on fire after running them through with his sword.” “So not helping,” the doctor muttered. “You poor babies! What has this awful fellow done to you?” the mare demanded. “He turned me into a hired killer,” Flicker replied, never once thinking about what his honesty might do to this situation. “I’m getting a gun soon and later today, I’m going sword shopping, I think.” “Guards! Guards! Do something! Foal abuse! Foal abuse!” Flicker heard the sound of much metal clanking, and became aware that the entire lobby was now staring in his direction. Something felt wrong about his situation, and a dull sense of worry crept through his mind. Flicker began to wonder if perhaps he had spoken out of turn. He began to wonder how far he might make it if he ran. Running seemed like a fantastic idea. A great idea. Unless of course, he was given the order to stop, and then things would get confusing. Flicker didn’t like confusing, not at all. Confusing was, well, confusing, and was always difficult to sort out once that state was reached. Try as he might, Flicker could never find the great state of Confusion on a map, but Wicked assured him that it was there and he had to keep looking. Perhaps someday… “Doctor Sterling!” Turning, Doctor Sterling saw a familiar face and he let out a sigh of relief. “Doctor Gambol! You have no idea how relieved I am to see you.” “I see you’ve met Miss Risotto.” Doctor Gambol came closer and smiled. “Miss Risotto, this is Doctor Sterling, from the Rat Catcher’s Guild.” He turned and looked at Doctor Sterling. “This is a big day for us, Prince Gosling and Princess Luna are here, visiting our precious little ones. So, why are you here, Sterling, and why have you set our greeter into such a panic?” “I came to donate a thousand gold bits,” Doctor Sterling replied, “and I just don’t know what went wrong.” The donation was painless and made Flicker feel good about himself. Five hundred gold bits was almost two weeks pay and he could afford it. He had many, many bits saved, so he would still be able to send bits home for his sister’s education fund and for his parents to live more comfortably. The transfer would be cleared in three days through his bank. The marvels of living in the modern era. He didn’t even need to carry that many bits around. The burrito was assaulting his insides like a back-alley thug and he wished that he hadn’t asked for the salsa de asesinato. He could feel it, the bad, bad burrito, moving through the neighborhood of his guts, mugging his kidneys, extorting his liver, and shaking down that bad side of town that existed between his stomach and his bruised, battered tailhole. It was almost a perfect day. The one thing spoiling both the day and Flicker’s mood was his rat-sense, which wouldn’t stop tingling. Rats were everywhere in his fair city, above, below, all around, and just knowing they were there made Flicker a sour pony. It was difficult to walk the streets and know that his hated enemy was all around him. At least there were fewer rats here in the posh residential district where they now walked. There were a few rowhouses all tucked together, a few townhouses, with a little bit of space in between them, but not much, and the towers favoured by the wealthy old blood of Canterlot. The towers in particular were well protected, full of magic, dimensional pockets, and protective charms, some of which were laid in place by the Rat Catchers Guild themselves. The group, lead by Doctor Sterling, stopped in front of an imposing townhouse, tall, square, and topped with a dark blue slate roof. The townhouses along this street weren’t quite old money, but neither were they nouveau rich either. It was a sign of an established family that had been around for a century or two. The good doctor did not go to the front door, but trotted down the walk between his townhouse and his next door neighbor. The apprentices followed as the doctor made his way to the back door, where the kitchen entrance was located. Lentil Pakora stood in the middle of her kitchen, giving Doctor Sterling the stinkeye. Having one eye intensified the effect, and she was a fearsome, matronly mare with a few extra pounds here and there on her frame. Scowling, she did not look pleased to see the doctor and drew in a deep breath in preparation for what was to come. “You have not been home for a while,” the old mare said in a cross-sounding voice. “I’ve been rather busy,” the doctor replied. “I’ll forgive you if you give me the handsome earth pony colt.” At these words, Hennessy looked quite alarmed, and for good reason. The doctor’s housekeeper was looking at him with one greedy eye and keen, unwavering interest. “Madam Pakora, I know you mean well, but in this country, many would see that as being terribly tribalist—” “I don’t care… how much for the colt? He’s very handsome, sturdy, and has bright eyes. I am old and my back is going out. I need a housecolt and that is all there is too it.” Turning her head, she focused her one eye on Hennessy. “You there, I would feed you well, give you your own room, and give you cookies on request.” Hennessy’s ears perked up. “Uh… um… hey, Doctor Sterling, I think I’m okay with—” “No, and the answer is final!” Doctor Sterling’s mustache quivered as he looked at his housekeeper. “This isn’t Windia, Madam Pakora. Look, I understand you have a custom of buying and selling unwanted foals, but you can’t do that here.” “Selfish, backwards barbarian!” Lentil cried as she conjured a long handled metal spoon into existence. “Have at thee!” Without warning, the old mare lunged at the doctor with surprising speed. Flicker, who had seen this before, scrambled out of the way as the doctor snatched up a ladle from off of a nearby rack to defend himself. The clang of metal on metal filled the kitchen and Piper dove beneath a wooden chopping block table. Hennessy remained by the back door with a blank stare, trying to figure out what had gone wrong. So much had gone wrong as of late that it was now difficult to keep track of everything. The ring of metal on metal made the bells in Flicker’s ears go crazy. Lentil’s assault was brazen, skilled, and she had the doctor on the defensive in seconds. She swiped at his legs, forcing him back, and making him block her swings with his ladle. Flicker watched every move, hoping to learn Lentil’s terrific technique. The doctor, wide eyed and wary, picked up a stainless steel pot lid to use as a shield and he went on the offensive. “For once I would like to come home and not be assaulted upon entry!” “But then your life would be boring!” “Indeed, it would… do you think you could fix lunch?” The doctor made a calculated swipe with his ladle as he blocked the incoming spoon with his lid, but Lentil was quick and she almost smacked him on his nose. “You may fawn over them and feed them, but that is the best I can do for you.” “Accepted.” Madam Pakora withdrew her spoon and stood down. She laughed a bit, then turned to face Flicker. “He’s getting slow. You need to keep him on his hooves, Flicker.” Flustered, wishing the mock-sword fight had continued, Flicker nodded as something dreadful pummeled his spleen. Not knowing what else to do or say, he fell back on being polite. “That’s Piper under the table, Piper Pie, and the colt you wanted for hauling stuff around town is Hennessy Walker. They’re new and very, very green.” Piper emerged from beneath the table, looking shaken, and she moved to stand beside Hennessy, who had a wide, sheepish grin. Flicker tried to relax, but failed, as his spleen was being thrashed to within an inch of its life. Doctor Sterling moved around the kitchen, fetching what was needed to make tea as Lentil studied the two foals by the door. “You have loving parents,” Lentil said to Piper, “but you”—she turned to look at Hennessy and her single eye had a strange, swirling glow to it—“you have parents that do not deserve you. I do not care about what the doctor says or the rules of this strange land full of backwards ponies, I am keeping you. You may continue to do your job, but I demand that you come home on a regular basis so that I might check on you. Your chakras worry me. You have known only guilt and shame, you live with a cloud over your head.” “I… wait… how do you know this?” Hennessy asked, looking bewildered. “Never mind how I know this, you are mine now. Madam Pakora has claimed you, urchin. Do not test me or try my patience.” Lentil rushed forwards, moving with surprising speed for her age, and she embraced Hennessy in a hug. “Mine now. I give you my mark.” Without further ado, she pressed her horn to Hennessy’s head, right between his ears, and there was a blinding flash of light. “Mine.” “I don’t understand what is going on. I feel funny.” “No more shame, no more guilt. As your keeper, I get to determine what you may posses. I give you all of the world for you to have, but your guilt and shame is forbidden to you. Now go and sit down.” “Yes ma’am,” Hennessy drawled as he shuffled away sideways towards the table, looking very confused and out of sorts. “I don’t mind being owned if I can get cookies.” Piper, who followed Hennessy, didn’t take her eyes off of the strange one eyed unicorn mare. She looked bewildered, and she had good reason to be, as there was strange, unknown magic in the air. When Hennessy sat down, she sat down beside him, plopping her plush rump down upon a cushion on the floor. Flicker, feeling a great deal of intestinal discomfort, also went over to the table and sat down. He wondered what the dynamite blast had done to his insides. His ribs hurt a great deal, and his head throbbed in a most unpleasant way. Just as he started to get comfortable, he felt powerful magic grab him. Blinking, he realised that Lentil was examining the wound on his head, and he could hear her clucking her tongue. “What happened?” Lentil demanded. “Oh, only a very amusing story involving a bear,” Doctor Sterling replied as he prepared tea. A low equine rumble of concern came out of Doctor Sterling’s housekeeper and her eye narrowed as she continued her examination of Flicker. After several long seconds, she pulled her head away and let out an angry snort. Flicker tried to relax a little and get comfortable, but it hurt to sit down. “I will hear your story about the bear, for I am curious…”