Knick-Knack, it seemed, had moved into his old room, but liked to sneak back into their parent’s room whenever she got the chance. It was hard to believe that she was two now, and Flicker wondered where the time had gone. He was another year older himself, and hadn’t celebrated his birthday. He had forgotten about it, but it didn’t trouble him too much. The past year had been a busy one.
She was two.
Flicker felt a strange pain in his barrel that had nothing to do with the fiery ache in his side where he had been raked open and then had surgery for a torn muscle. The sound of his mother’s voice as she talked to Piper was somehow soothing. Hennessy had gone outside to offer some help to Flicker’s father, Conk.
Afraid, without knowing why, Flicker pushed open his parent’s bedroom door. This was an odd place for him, a strange place, comforting, but there was the knowledge that his parents had made him in this room, which left his mind feeling unsettled for some reason. There in the bed, he saw her. All that was visible was a few strands of muted melon-coloured mane that had a few degrees of variation from strand to strand.
It occurred to him that his sister would be pretty one day, and that worried him. She was chestnut brown, like his father, except that her back was a faded, creamy patch of yellow-white. A fond memory fluttered through his mind, of combing her mane and putting it into two long braids, obeying his mother’s request. She hadn’t wanted to sit still so that he could finish his task.
“Knacky… guess who…”
The filly beneath the heavy quilt and blankets jerked, snorted, farted, startled herself, squealed, and opened her eyes. She looked around, blinking, and then focused upon the tall figure beside the bed. It only took her a few scant seconds to guess who stood there beside the bed, waiting for her to wake up.
“UPSIES!” she cried as she pronked free from the blankets and the quilt. She began to bounce on the bed, using it like a trampoline. “Flickery-Dickery-Dock! Upsies! Upsies now!”
“I’m sorry, Knacky, I can’t carry you on my back right now. I’m hurt.”
The little earth pony filly stopped in mid-pronk and came crashing down to the bed in a heap of tangled legs. Ears waggling, her lower lip quivering, she looked up at her big brother, seeing for the first time his condition, the bandages on his side, and in her eyes there was a terrible squall building. She bleated a bit, trying to hold it back, but then the levee broke, and the flood came forth.
She bawled for all she was worth, letting go a wounded squeal that could be heard throughout the house. Sitting on her tiny little bum, she thrust her forelegs up into the air and waved them around as she pitched a fit. Being the dutiful big brother that he was, Flicker didn’t flinch or hesitate, he picked her up in his telekinesis, held her close to his neck, and carried her out of the room, as his mother was the only pony that could fix her current state.
Dabbing at her daughter’s eyes, Twisty gave her son a reassuring smile as he sat at the table, looking rather dejected. Knacky was wailing and continued to pitch a fit, she kicked and thrashed in her booster seat, and banged her front hooves against the edge of the table. It was tough, being two, when one had the emotions, but not the control to deal with them.
Sunlight flooded in through the kitchen window, which had an eastern exposure. Flicker shivered and wished that he had a coat, or something to cover up with. He was tempted to go and pull a blanket off of a bed. At the moment, he was a bit more vulnerable than he liked, due to blood loss and medicine. Piper was trying to coax a smile from Knacky, but she had no such success.
“She’s adorable,” Piper said to Twisty, having to speak up just a bit to be heard.
“Thank you.” Twisty smiled and then tried to tempt Knacky with food, which was already all cut up into bite sized pieces.
His ears aching, but his patience nowhere near depleted, Flicker decided that it was time to end his sister’s tantrum. Leaning over just a little in his seat, he lowered his head until his nose was just inches away from her face and he said in a very stern voice, “I’m going into town later, and if you don’t stop crying right now, I will not bring you any candy back. Now eat your breakfast.”
In two shakes of a filly’s fluffy tail, Knacky’s waterworks dried right up, she sniffled a bit, her barrel hitched, and she looked at her brother with wide, wounded dark brown eyes. “No candy?”
“Not. One. Piece.”
Knacky realised the gravity of her situation, and she let out an urgent, frightened whine before she said, “Okay, I’m good. Bring back candy.” She gave her brother one final, worried, fearful glance, dropped her muzzle down to her plate, and began to lap up applesauce from her cut up buckwheat pancakes while letting out soul-crushing whimpers of remorse.
“I still don’t know how you do that,” Twisty said to her son. “If I do that to her, she just cries more. It drives your father crazy because he can’t do anything either.”
“I think I see a tear.” Flicker tried to raise an eyebrow, but it was currently missing in action.
“Nuh-uh. You don’t see nuttin.” Knacky wiped her eyes with her stubby little foreleg as she om-nom-nom-nomed her applesauce and buckwheat pancake bites. “You shu’p.” Realising what was at stake, the sulky filly began to gobble down her breakfast at a reckless pace as she eyeballed her big brother.
Twisty began to laugh and she leaned back into her chair, glad to have her son home.
Sitting on the floor, Knacky, who had finished her breakfast, now played with her collection of stuffed viruses, microbes, bacteria, and parasites, all things that Flicker had purchased for her to aid in her brain development. There was mange, toxoplasmosis, rabies, a heartworm, the black death, typhoid, malaria, and a whole host of cute, cuddly, plush diseases. At the moment, the common cold, whom Knacky called ‘Princess Snuffles,’ was holding court over her subjects.
Held in Flicker’s telekinesis was a steaming cup of coffee, which wasn’t tea, but would do just fine. The hot liquid was soothing and made him feel better. He was in a bit of pain at the moment, but managing. Piper, who lay on the new sofa, looked to be almost half asleep after taking a half a tablet of morphine for pain. The bandages around her legs still looked white and new.
On the wall, the clock ticked away the pleasant minutes, the treasured time when there was no hurry to do anything. Flicker’s mother was knitting, or trying to, as there was now enough money for her to take up a pleasurable hobby. That was the thing that Flicker couldn’t help but notice; just how much things had changed around here.
A fire crackled in the wrought iron wood burning stove, leaving the room a little warm for the others, but still a little chilly for Flicker, though standing next to the fire would warm him if he chose to get up from where he sat. It seemed that his mother had the day off from work and Flicker wondered if she had requested personal time or a vacation.
“You’ve gotten so big.”
Ears pivoting, Flicker listened to the dulcet sound of his mother’s voice, adoring every spoken word. His mother wasn’t looking at him, she was focused on her knitting, and her face was scrunched up in concentration. In her features, Flicker saw a bit of himself when he looked into the mirror.
“You’re bigger than I am and you’re all muscle now. I can’t get over how different you are. Flicker, sometimes, I look at you and I have crazy thoughts about the special little colt I created. When you went away to Canterlot… I never thought you’d turn out like this.”
Taking a sip of coffee, Flicker allowed it to swirl around inside of his mouth before he swallowed it. Ignoring the ache in his side, he replied, “I spend a lot of time training and I’ve worked very hard to become what I am. I spend ten hours a day in the gymnasium sometimes, preparing and training. I’ve done twenty four hour endurance runs through the sewers. I’ve given myself over to my training and I hold nothing back. Wicked says I hold a lot of promise, but I still have a long way to go. I still can’t make the standing leap over the eight foot wall, and I’ve been trying for months. It’s very frustrating. Sometimes, I can almost get my front hooves to scrape against the edge.”
“Why would you need to make such a leap?” Twisty asked, still focused upon her knitting.
“Garden walls,” Flicker replied. “Rats scurry up and down the walls, and we have to follow them. Most garden walls start at six feet, because the ponies of Canterlot like uniformity. So, garden walls, privacy hedges, fences, almost all of it meets the six foot marker at minimum, because a short fence looks out of place. And Canterlot is all about fences, because good fences make for good neighbors. There’s not a lot of space, like here in Ponyville.”
“Seems like the job would be easier if you could fly, Flicker.”
“Mother, I do fly. That’s what we’re taught to do to gain ground. Jump to a high place and then leap away using all of the strength in our hind legs. Some of us”—Flicker thought of himself in particular—“have a limited range with our telekinesis. So we have to run the rat down and that means gaining ground in any way we can. So we learn to fly… my best measured leap was a little over twelve feet from the top of a six foot wall. Doctor Sterling can clear over twenty feet from the same height, so I have a long ways to go.”
“That’s insane.” Twisty looked up from her knitting and stared at her son with a wild-eyed look of disbelief.
“Also very useful if the rats swarm. If that happens, you have to run, or leap up to high ground where the rats can’t reach you somehow. Swarming is bad and we’re still trying to figure out how and why rats do it.” Flicker looked over at Piper and her bandaged legs. “When swarming, the rats get stronger, faster, and they gain a bit of magic resistance, meaning they can shrug off telekinesis sometimes. Doctor Sterling believes that the rats are evolving magical defenses to protect themselves from us and if this continues, one day they may become a much greater threat than they already are.”
“That’s horrifying.” Twisty began to recount her stitching and she shook her head.
“Mother, you have no idea what’s out there, and I can’t talk about some of it. But the danger is growing. This is why I have to train, endlessly, and work so hard. A war is coming, Mother, and I intend to fight it.”
“Flicker, we’re already at war—”
“And another one comes at us from below. I don’t say this for the sake of hyperbole. The enemy is already among us, all around us, living in our shadow. I have seen the face of our enemy and I—” Flicker cut himself off, as he had almost said, And I have heard his voice. He thought of Rat Bastard and felt a spike of rage go through his heart. “Mother, please, remember to do everything I say to try and keep this place somewhat secure from vermin. I worry all the time.”
“Conk and I, we do our best, Flicker. You’re a good colt for worrying about us. Thank you.”
“Mother, I am going to go for a walk.” Flicker gulped down his hot coffee and grimaced as the hot liquid flowed down his throat. After taking a few seconds to recover, he added, “I promise I’ll be careful and not strain myself, but I need my constitutional. Plus, I need to get candy for Knacky.”
“Candy!” Knacky squealed as she hugged her adorable red rabies plushy. She turned her wide, expressive eyes upon her doting brother, knowing full well the power she had over him. “Honeydrops!”
“I’ll get you some honeydrops,” Flicker replied.
“Gummy boogers?” Knick-Knack asked.
“No!” Twisty cried in disgust, causing Piper to snort in her half-asleep, drowsy state.
“Maybe.” Flicker gave his sister a nod, because he didn’t want her to start crying again. He had no intention of disobeying his mother.
“Lavender licks?” Knick-Knack squeezed her red rabies plushy in anticipation for a major haul, and the toy squeaked. “Can you come home with a toy for me?”
“Knacky, I don’t know—”
“Just a wittle toy… pwease?”
“What do you want, Knacky?” Flicker knew he was being worked over, but he didn’t care. He was the Big Brother and this was his trial to endure. It was his sacred duty, his burden to bear. If he couldn’t be here to care for her, at least he could buy her nice things to keep her happy.
“A fart whistle!”
Twisty rolled her eyes and shook her head, facing a mother’s dilemma, regretting that she had wasted her power of denial on gummy boogers. She should have waited, and she knew it. Saying anything now would just make her sound mean and might cause Knick-Knack to melt down. The twos were terrible and mothers were right to live in fear. She let out a sigh of annoyance, wondering how long it would take before the fart whistle broke, or if her or Conk might be able to cause it to get ‘lost.’
“Well, we’ll see on that one,” Flicker replied.
“Thonks!” Knick-knack began to bounce and place, which caused her red rabies plushy to squeak over and over. “Youda best! Youda best!”