As Sundance came in hot and heavy with a fierce tailwind that hastened his approach, he realised that if he survived this somehow, he would be a pegasus with a flying story. This gave him the determination he needed to go on and he steeled his resolve. There were two kinds of pegasus ponies in the world; those who lived humdrum lives who never once did anything remotely exciting, and those who had not only done something bat pony insane, but also lived to tell the tale.
Snow came at him sideways and from behind while an oppressive downdraft shoved him down towards the street. He was coming in too hard, too hot, too fast, and grinding his teeth, he thought about trying to pull out so he could make another pass, but came to the conclusion that the wind had no mercy. He was going down, like it or not, and he was about to become one with the cobblestones.
Wagons had been pulled onto the sidewalks and the street was clear as possible, which is to say it had a narrow, unforgiving path that was as crooked as a kinked draconequus. This was going to hurt—a lot—and he would be lucky to survive it. Too fast, too fast, too fast! First contact was made near a vegetable cart and somehow, Sundance avoided breaking his wing on it. The impact sent shockwaves of pain through his hooves, his frogs, fetlocks, and for a moment, it seemed as though his legs would shatter into matchsticks.
He skated over iced cobblestones, which rattled and bounced his body. His teeth clattered, sending painful jolts through his skull that left him swimmy headed. Now, he was skating down the street at a breakneck speed with no control, no steering, dazed and stupid from impact. Ponies hustled at the last minute to try and widen the path, pushing and shoving away obstructions in the street.
“Piper”—the voice was mechanical, grating, raspy, and loud enough to dominate everything—“put an end to this at once!”
Just as Sundance was about to crash into a barricade of parked wagons, he came to an abrupt, lurching stop that caused his teeth to clack together and he almost bit his tongue. Every bit of his momentum was fully arrested and he found himself completely immobilised. Out of the corner of his good eye, somepony approached…
Or perhaps somepony was the wrong word. The wind tugged at a dark green cloak and long, spindly steel legs were revealed that moved with an odd mechanical gait. There was something spider-like about the legs, something unnerving, something unsettling. Beneath the cowl was a steel mask that looked like a bird’s face, and bright red eyes could be seen glowing within the shadows beneath the hood.
“Behold the foolhardy loyalty of the pegasus pony,” the nightmarish mechanical figure said in its woodchipper voice while it approached. “Oh my, that’s a nasty injury. Flicker, remove these ropes at once, time is of the essence.”
Sundance found himself released from whatever was holding him and turning his head, he asked, “What are you?”
“Why,” the cloaked, cowled figure responded and his mechanical respirator gave his voice a terrific resonance, “I am a Lord Balister. Who might you be, foolhardy, loyal one?”
Two unicorns flanked the horrifying mechanical—whatever it was—along with what appeared to be an earth pony. Sundance could feel the ropes being loosened, but even the gentle tugs still cut cruelly into his skin. He winced, but did not cry out, and somehow, he remained standing, though he was not sure how. The unicorn mare was thin—too thin, while the stallion was a short, stocky, hulking behemoth.
“I am Sundance and this is one of my peasants.” Breathless, he had to suck in a lot of wind to keep going. “She broke her leg and she’s lost a lot of blood. Hurry, she needs help right away. Please help me.”
The mechanical pony-thing stood breathing, chuffing like a nightmarish locomotive, and each breath was like a blacksmith’s bellows whooshing. All four of his legs were as thin as steel curtain rods and cringe-inducing scarring could be seen along what was left of his body. When Earwax was lifted from his back, Sundance was so relieved that his body went limp and he would have pitched over into the snow had he not been caught.
The unicorn mare that lifted him and held him, the whites of her eyes were a sickly yellow, and he did his best not to stare. Her face was pinched, thin, and it was obvious that she had seen grievous injury. No matter what he did, he couldn’t get his legs to behave, and with a pained gasp, he gave up. When the mare held him aloft, he squirmed, but offered no protest. Now was not the time to refuse the kindness of strangers.
“So Lord Sundance is it then?” The red eyes flashed in the light as Lord Balister’s head tilted off at an angle. “Flicker, this is the one you signed off on, right?”
“It was Princess Celestia’s command,” the burly unicorn stallion replied. “I could not refuse her request.”
Balister’s snort sounded like a rivet gun going off. “Let’s get them inside. Okay ponies! Clear the street! Show’s over! Go back to your day! I want this road cleared right now!”
Without further ado, Sundance found himself being carried inside, along with Earwax.
“Do you know her age?” the nurse asked while throwing a second blanket around Sundance’s withers.
“I told you, no I don’t.” When the needle was pushed into his neck to draw his blood, he winced but tried to hold still. “I only know that her name is Earwax and that’s it. I just met her. I was just put in charge of the barony and now this has happened and it’s only my second day on the job and I—”
“Sir, take a deep breath and calm down,” another nurse said, interrupting.
“Will she live?” Sundance asked while his blood was being taken.
“We have no way of knowing. I’m sorry.” The nurse drawing his blood pulled away one vial and loaded a second one into place while another nurse—the one who had draped the blankets over Sundance’s withers—pulled out a blood pressure cuff and a stethoscope. “The doctor wants this eye examined and he’s scheduled for x-rays. Let’s finish up triage, ladies.”
“Am I okay?” Sundance asked and for the first time, he began to worry about himself.
“Probably not, but we can get you patched right up,” the nurse taking his blood replied.
One wing, sprained in multiple places and a bruised terminal phalanx. Microfissure cracks in all four hooves. Multiple abrasions and friction burns from rope. A multitude of contusions and bruises from hailstone impacts. One eye, blackened. All of this with severe muscle strain everywhere. Sundance counted himself lucky. Earwax too, had also endured quite a battering on top of losing her leg, though he had heard nothing about her condition.
Sundance now sat in a room, alone, and tried not to lose his mind or go crazy. His room was cheerful, with a green floor, blue walls, and a white ceiling. Cartoonish animals covered the walls and some of them were having a picnic. This was a hospital for foals—at least under most circumstances—and the room reflected that. When everything was said and done, with his examination and x-rays finished, Sundance had been offered his choice of whatever flavour of lollipop of his liking by a teasing, good natured nurse.
Outside of his window, a springtime blizzard had turned the world greyish-white.
He was now a pegasus with a flying story, though not a good crash story, which was tragic in its own way. He had read in a book that having a good crash story could make a potential mate sympathetic. The flying story was a good one though, especially the part where he met a half-pony half-mechanoid that was the Grand Marshal of Canterlot. What was a Grand Marshal? Sundance had no idea, but it sure sounded impressive. Lord Balister and his trusted retinue had exited the Weeping Sister Hospital after making a donation just as Sundance had made his final approach.
There was a soft rapping at the door, which then opened. A stunning, statuesque mare entered, and Sundance recognised her right away. She carried with her two steaming waxed cardboard cups and the rich smell of spiced chai assaulted Sundance’s battered, wind-burned nostrils. Lifting his head from his pillows, he addressed her with a smile.
“Lady Fleur, I am surprised to see you.”
The graceful mare set one cup down upon the table beside Sundance’s bed, then stood there, looking him over, her eyes glimmering with heartfelt concern. Holding one cup aloft, her mouth formed a worried, pouty pucker, and her ears rose and fell a number of times while her emotions ping-ponged.
“Fancy Pants couldn’t make it so I came in his stead. Darling, you look positively dreadful! Are you in much pain? What did the doctors tell you? They wouldn’t tell me. You will be a dear and tell me, won’t you?”
“I’m fine,” Sundance said and he did his best to be reassuring. “I’m expected to make a full recovery with some rest. I am more worried about Earwax than I am about myself.”
“That makes you a good colt.” Fleur Dis Lee paused for a moment, shook her head, and then she corrected herself. “That makes you a fine young stallion. I did not intend to demean you, if I happened to do so.”
“It’s fine.”
“You’re very gracious.” Lady Fleur pulled her scarf off, folded it up into a neat bundle, and then stowed it in her saddlebags, which were still damp from the weather. “What you did was an act of extraordinary bravery. Fancy Pants was right to put his faith in you. There has been much discussion as to how you would perform and it seems that Princess Celestia made a fine choice.”
“I do believe the previous lord would have taken her into the woods and left—”
“Oh merciful alicorns, that’s monstrous!” Mouth agape, Fleur appeared as though she might faint at any moment and one vein could be seen throbbing in her neck. “Promise me that you would never do such a thing! Promise.”
“It’s horrible and I—”
“PROMISE!” One dainty hoof struck the tile floor with enough force to make Sundance’s ears ring.
“I promise,” Sundance said, not knowing what else to say, and he leaned back into his pillow. “It’s been unsettling… I’ve learned a few things… bad things…” Shaking his head, Sundance failed to come up with the necessary words to express how he felt. He had to turn his head to look at his cup of chai, which was hidden from him on his blind side. Steam rose from the open cup and he watched it as it curled upwards towards the ceiling.
“I understand the conditions there are quite rough and comforts are few and far between.” Fleur sniffed once, twice, and then took a step backwards. “I also understand that your barony is rich with the most fantastic mineral springs which are said to be advantageous to one’s good health.”
“Do I stink like eggs?” Sundance asked while suddenly feeling self-conscious about himself.
“Yes, my dear, but only just a little,” Fleur replied while she retreated another step. “I do believe the storm blew off the worst of it.” Leveling her gaze upon Sundance, she began to breathe through her mouth while trying to appear that she wasn’t doing just that. “It can be quite difficult to adjust to deprivation, to go from a proper life in the city to suddenly having no comforts. Other young lords and ladies have also endured these trials and tribulations. It can be quite taxing. Some have quit their post and abdicated. Sadly, some ponies just aren’t cut out for that kind of life. I, for one, do not think I could cope with such a change in circumstances. It would be so dreadfully trying.”
“This morning was pretty miserable.” Mid-sentence, Sundance’s stomach rumbled to remind him that he still hadn’t eaten yet. He thought about waking up in the cold after shivering all night and how poorly he had slept in a smoke-choked room. This morning had almost been his breaking point, but then, other things happened, far worse things, and he had somehow endured it all.
Perhaps he was made of sterner stuff than he believed.
Again the door opened and an older mare entered bearing a tray. Sniffing, Sundance’s whole body went rigid from the scent of food, and Fleur stepped aside so the orderly could reach the bed. Sundance struggled to sit up, and his battered, rope-burned stomach protested by sending jolts of agony spearing through his guts.
“What’s for lunch? I’m starving…” Sundance went silent when he saw that the portions of food were decidedly foal-sized ones.
“Wheat-meat nuggets with honey mustard dipping sauce,” the older mare recited in a dull monotone. “Macaroni and cheese, tater tots, peas, carrots, and hot buttery corn niblets.”
Unable to stop himself, Sundance whimpered and when he faced the orderly, he did his best to look as pitiful as possible. “May I please have seconds?”
“Only if you finish everything on your plate, youngster. No eating the nuggets and leaving the veggies, you little hooligan. We don’t reward picky eaters here… no, we put the kibosh on that, pronto.” Leaning in closer, the mare’s brows beetled. “If you dump your veggies beneath your bed, I’ll find out about it, trust me, and no puppet show for you later. That’ll be something you’ll regret, mark my words, youngster. We put on the best production of The Great and Powerful Trixie Versus the Ursa Major that you’ll ever see.”
At this point, Lady Fleur was snickering.
Frustrated, Sundance stammered, “I-I-I am no hooligan! I drink my tea like a good and proper pony! And I most certainly won’t hide my veggies beneath the bed!”
“So says the scofflaw daredevil who violated the no fly order and crashed in the street.”
Going silent, Sundance did his best to look sullen and he glared at the snide orderly.
“I’ll be back in about ten or fifteen minutes to check on you. I’ll have a second tray, but you had better eat your veggies. No excuses. I know your type.” With that, the mare shuffled off, no doubt to deliver other trays and spread her own special brand of cheer to the other scofflaws, hooligans, and vegetable tossers.
Grumbling, Sundance tried to get himself into a position where he could eat and the orderly shut the door behind her. Fleur was still laughing, a muted, reserved sound, and Sundance cast a dubious eye on his wheat-meat nuggets—all five of them. These had never been his favourites, but the steaming hot tater tots—all seven of them—would be a fantastic treat.
“Remember to eat your veggies,” Fleur said, and then she took a careful, cautious sip of her chai. “Sundance, do you need some help? You appear to be struggling, darling.”
With a sigh of resignation, Sundance went limp in the bed after struggling to raise his leaden body to a proper eating position. He lay there, his breathing heavy, laboured, and after a time, he nodded. “Yes, help would be appreciated, thank you.”
“Give me a moment, darling, and I shall be glad to help you.”