Being a prefect meant having responsibilities, and so it was that Flicker Nicker had dragged himself out of his bed to do the rounds. He wished he hadn’t. Having seen his fellow apprentices, the gruesome injuries, he wished he hadn’t. Upon returning to his room, he couldn’t feel much of anything, not even rage. There was no grateful feeling of being alive, no feeling of relief, there wasn’t much of anything at all, just an empty, hollow ache.
Everything he loved, everything he believed in, everything he stood for, everything that he was so passionate about, he had witnessed its end. Shutting the door behind him, he gazed upon Piper, who was sound asleep in his bed. A nurse had come to take Piper back to her own room, and Flicker had snarled at her. The nurse had left in a hurry and an orderly arrived about five minutes later to clean up the puddle that had been left behind during the nurse’s hasty retreat.
It was difficult to walk or even move, but Flicker managed. Responsibilities were responsibilities, and nothing good ever came from shirking them. Doing the rounds, as White Pepper had called it, had left Flicker feeling drained and exhausted. Out of the twenty six students that had survived the massacre, there were now nineteen, with more than a few that remained upon the edge.
Equestria’s healers were elsewhere, and Flicker understood this all too well.
Standing beside his bed, Flicker watched Piper sleep, and became aware of the fact that Spud was staring at him. Hennessy was recovering, but couldn’t be seen, and this worried Flicker a great deal. Whomever had saved Hennessy, Flicker owed them a debt of gratitude the likes of which he feared could never be repaid.
In the bed, Piper’s eyelids opened, revealing bloodshot, somewhat yellowed eyes. She stared up at him, unfocused, let out a mewling cry of pain, then closed her eyes and drifted off. Sighing, ignoring his own pain, Flicker climbed back into his bed, mindful of Piper’s fragile state, so that he too, could doze off and lose awareness of this horrible nightmare he found himself living in.
The chicory coffee was quite good, much to Flicker’s surprise. He had tried it on a whim after being offered a choice, and he was glad he did. The nurse had offered him a Fancy coffee drink, café au lait, with chicory. It looked like coffee and milk, but it was different. Piper, sitting up in his bed, close to him, was drinking the same, holding her haggard, sagging face over her cup.
A figure appeared in the open doorway, not a nurse. Flicker’s eyes darted over to his swords, which still lay upon the table at the foot of the bed, and then back to the unknown visitor. The stallion cleared his throat, adjusted his bow tie, and bowed his head in greeting.
“My name is Trafalgar Truffle,” the stallion said, introducing himself in a heavy Grittish accent. “I represent the estate of one Lord Sterling Shoe, and I would very much like to offer my condolences. Might I come in?”
“Please do,” Flicker replied, and his eyes darted over to the empty chair. “Have a seat, Mister Truffle.”
The stallion, who had a big walrusy mustache, came in, took off his tweed flat cap, went over to the chair, and sat down. With his wings, he pulled open his attache case and began rummaging around inside. Sitting at the foot of his bed, Flicker took a sip of his coffee and watched every move that his visitor made, taking note of his meticulous, fussy nature.
“Lord Shoe—”
“Doctor Sterling,” Flicker said, correcting the pegasus. “He felt that Shoe was a silly name, and he always used his first name.”
“Yes, erm, right, my apologies.” The pegasus pulled out a pipe, placed it between his lips, but did not light it. Looking thoughtful, he studied Flicker, and then continued, “Doctor Sterling considered you his son and listed you as his heir. Now, there are some issues that need to be sorted out, but nothing too serious.”
Flicker nodded to show that he was listening, then drank more of his coffee.
“Because you are not related by blood, you cannot inherit his title or rank in the aristocracy. You cannot inherit any of his family’s estate houses, which is a shame, Doctor Sterling wrote a number of great things about you, young Master Nicker.” The pegasus’ pipe bounced up and down a bit and his mustache quivered. “What you can inherit is Doctor Sterling’s Canterlot townhouse, as well as a considerable fortune. Doctor Sterling hardly ever touched his own inherited fortune, but instead lived off of his own earnings.”
Sucking in a deep breath, Flicker held it until he felt as though his lungs might burst, then he let it all out in a huff. He thought about Doctor Sterling’s townhouse and its blue slate roof. He looked at the lawyer and blinked once. He was curious about the pony’s pipe, and why he had it if he did not smoke it.
“The townhouse comes with one condition though, and that is that you must employ Madam Pakora, his housekeeper. She is to be allowed to remain in the house until the end of her days. Her ways are peculiar, and strange, and Doctor Sterling worried for her well being, in the event that something should happen to him.” The pegasus pulled out some papers and laid them down next to the weapons on the table. “The money you’ve inherited should allow you to pay her her salary.”
“What about Doctor Sterling’s sword?” Flicker asked.
“Oh, that was specifically left to you, along with the contents of the house and Doctor Sterling’s personal armory.” The pegasus pulled out yet more papers, and an ebony black fountain pen accented with gold. “A pistol, called ‘Wraithbinder,’ was also left in your possession. Documentation of said artifact will be delivered to you shortly, but I do not know when.”
Sighing again, Flicker drank some of his coffee and noticed that his cup was almost empty.
“Now, seeing as how you are not a legal adult, not as of yet, your parents will also have to sign off on this inheritance, but it is a protected contract. They will not be able to wrest the property away from you. This is just standard contract stuff, with no ill meaning meant.”
“I understand.” Flicker nodded and eyed the fancy fountain pen. The colt knew his parents would never wrong him, never slight him, and he had total trust in them.
Placing a folder down upon the table, Mister Truffle looked into Flicker’s eyes. “Being a landowner in Canterlot is complicated, and these papers here will explain to you your rights and responsibilities. You will be beholden to the city, being both a landowner and having a Mercenary’s Writ, you will be obligated to defend the city during times of crisis. This also earns you quite a number of special privileges. Should you serve with distinction, you can appeal for peerage. All of this will be made clear by reading the papers in this folder.”
“Peerage?” Piper asked in a low whisper, breaking her silence.
“Well, by technicality, being a landowner makes one a Lord or a Lady,” the pegasus replied, “but with commoners able to purchase land, the law changed a bit. Here in Canterlot, owning land is the first step towards gaining peerage. Young Master Nicker here has a unique opportunity to become one of the many Lords of Canterlot.”
“Like Lord Fancy Pants.” Piper gazed with great interest at the papers upon the table at the foot of the bed.
“Yes.” The pegasus’ mustache bristled as his pipe jittered. “All I need from you is a signature, just to show that these documents were delivered. Later, when your parents can be present, all of this business can be dealt with. My apologies for intruding upon your grief, but these actions are time sensitive, and Doctor Sterling was very insistent that you received your due should anything happen to him.”
“Thank you,” Flicker said to Mister Truffle. Then, after a moment, he thought of something. “What of the Don’t Panic?”
“Oh, that comes with the house.” The pegasus smiled, but it was difficult to see beneath his mustache. His teeth clattered against the stem of his pipe and he clicked the brass clasp of his attache case shut. “I can’t stay. The entire city is under lockdown and there is a curfew. This is worse than the changeling invasion we suffered all those years ago. Any last questions?”
“None that I can think of,” Flicker replied, and he watched the pegasus get up from the chair. “Where do I sign?”
“Right here.” The pegasus slid a piece of paper closer. “Standard writ of delivery, proving that I was here.” Mister Truffle tensed, and his pipe bobbed in the corner of his mouth. “I really am sorry for your loss. I didn’t know Doctor Sterling all that well, but I respected him a great deal. He was good friends with my boss, they were very close.”
“I see.” Flicker gave a nod of acknowledgment, then lifted the pen, and eyeballed the line where he was supposed to sign. After a moment, the fancy fountain pen trembling, he signed his name. Flicker Nicker.
“I really must be going…”
The hospital food wasn’t very good, it was bland and flavourless, but Flicker ate it. He didn’t understand how the hospital could have a selection of coffees and teas available for consumption, but the food, the food was almost inedible. If Flicker was in charge, this seeming contradiction would be sorted out and put into order, because it was intolerable.
“I think when ponies die in the hospital, it’s from the food,” Piper remarked as she cast a forlorn glance upon her mushy, mealy rice swimming in strangely yellow gravy. “Ugh, you pray to the alicorns after you eat this mess. I think this is supposed to be saffron gravy, but I suspect it is mostly just artificial colours.”
At that moment, Flicker would sack all of Canterlot just to get a burrito from a street vendor. The peas on his plate were a distinct shade of yellow, and not a shade of green, as they should be. They were also mushy, bland, and devoid of any sort of salt or flavouring. The asparagus spears were vile and were more grey than green. And the broccoli? Flicker didn’t want to think of the broccoli, not while he was eating it.
“Flicker?”
The colt looked up from his food.
“This is what war is like, isn’t it?” Piper asked. “We’re at war, aren’t we?”
“Yes.” Flicker’s words were a pained grunt as he fought to keep his food down.
“I’m just a little filly from Vanhoover… I grew up in a bakery. My mom likes to ‘barrass me and my dad always treats me like I’m still a yearling. He’d freak out if I even crossed the street alone. I was sheltered, and protected, and my parents didn’t want to tell me anything about how the world was, because the world was awful.” Piper shook her head and pushed her rice around her plate with her spoon. “I haven’t even hit my decade mark yet and I’ve ended up in a war.”
“You did good in your first battle,” Flicker said to the filly sitting on his bed with him.
“You think so? It feels like I failed.”
“You’re still alive,” Flicker responded, bringing irrefutable logic to bear. “This is like the bad old days, when ponies grew up quick. Asterius, she tells me that those were horrible days when she sometimes teaches history, but I don’t think they were so bad. Ponies weren’t coddled back then. You were respectful to the Princesses because the land was filled with monsters and they were the ones that protected you. Being civilised meant that you got to live in the city, under protection, and being bad meant you got banished out into the wilderness.”
“Flicker, don’t take this the wrong way, but you would have been banished into the wilderness…”
Turning his head, the colt stared at Piper, his face devoid of emotion.
“You and Hennessy… the way you are… you would have been banished. Ponies had to breed back in those days. Sons and daughters were needed. Infertile mares were seen as being beyond useless and gelded stallions were deadweight. Being gay was a crime, Flicker.”
Flicker’s mouth sagged at the corners, and he knew that Piper’s words were true. He recalled Asterius’ stories, what she had told him, and she had spoke of how captured stallions were gelded to take the fight out of them, to make them passive. When and if the war ended, and the prisoners were returned home, they had nothing to look forward to, nothing at all.
Those days were grim times indeed.
He gave Piper a blank stare, not knowing what to say after having his worldview shattered. Reality was a cold, terrible thing, and Flicker was bothered that Piper seemed more in touch with the real world than he was.
Throwing her spoon down upon her tray with a clatter, Piper said, “If I don’t get to see Hennessy soon, I’m going to be very angry…”