When Sundance looked back over his withers to check out his wounds, he cringed mightily and wished he hadn't. Three long gashes stretched from his neck down past the middle of his back, with an occasional fourth at various points. Parts of them had scabbed over, but there were still places that were oozing blood—precious blood that made him wonder just how much blood could he possibly have inside of him.
Without saying a word, Corduroy turned his head around, but he didn’t much care for this view either, as Cucumber was wrapped in a blanket just about a yard away. In the aftermath of it all, Sundance’s senses were dulled and it was difficult to think about any one thing for any meaningful length of time. Whimpering a bit, he rested his head down upon the table and wished he had a pillow.
Sumac was outside, doing the job that Sundance felt that he should be doing. At the moment, he felt compelled to do all manner of things, but as weak as he was, as woozy as he was, he was in no condition to do much of anything. He could hear Corduroy preparing to do whatever it was that she was going to do, but he didn’t know what she was going to do, not exactly. He was scared though, terrified that whatever came next would involve more pain.
“These are not clean cuts,” she said, her voice heavy and deep with concern. “The flesh was ripped, not cut. From the looks of things, those claws had sharp points, but not sharp edges. I have to be honest, I’ve never treated wounds like these before. Sewing them up will be tricky.”
It sounded as though Corduroy needed reassuring, but Sundance wasn’t sure what to do, or how, for that matter. He needed reassuring himself. “We’re all just doing our best here, Corduroy.” He was shocked by how slurred his own words were and icy-cold claws of fear raked at his flesh.
“Only some spots are really deep. You got lucky. Any deeper on your neck and we wouldn’t be having this conversation. Up there, the skin is torn, but not much else. However, as we go further down… well… this will be a learning experience for me. I’m going to give you something to drink, and that’s going to dull the pain a bit. This is still going to be a nightmare though, as I have to irrigate the wounds, scrub them, and disinfect them. Which, I imagine will be mighty unpleasant. Actually, if you’d like, I could put you under.”
“Do that.” His request was one of fearful desperation.
“I feel like Corduroy, Frontier Nurse. Here I am, about to do actual surgery on a dining room table in conditions that are less than ideal. I wish Doctor Hedge was here. Ugh.”
He waited, not knowing what would happen next, fearful and worried about Corduroy. Some kind of weird magic bubbled and stewed within his brain, and he could feel it even now. He wanted to see his crystal tree, to be close to it, to protect it. To watch it grow, to see it flourish because of his good deeds.
Something warm and wet was placed over his nose, and with it came a suffocating smell that dulled his senses. He tried to push it away from him with his forelegs, but they didn’t work. Nothing worked. It was as if his mind had been disconnected from his body and left to drift. The last thing that he heard was Corduroy saying, “Tell me, does this towel smell like ether?”
Hearing muffled voices, Sundance tried to listen. It felt as though he was underwater, a warm, gentle pressure surrounded him and he wondered if he was drifting. He remembered swimming in the ocean, the scent of salt, the caress of wind, and the warm brininess of the water. His mother didn’t want him swimming in the ocean, because it was dirty and the city of Baltimare’s sewage emptied into the bay.
Swimming in the salt water always changed the texture of his coat, his mane, and his tail, leaving them coarse, with far too many tangles. He remembered the sights and smells of the boardwalk; his father didn’t like going, but his mother did, and it was always a treat, a wonderful time. As he drifted along the tidelands between memory, dreams, and the vast continent of reality, he wondered upon which shore the rushing tide might leave him.
Other things moved about him, soft, gentle things that slid smoothly along his skin. Somepony was singing, some lullabye whose words he could not comprehend. Lights flashed, but he was only aware of the sensation of light. All of his senses turned blue and he felt the swirling current wrap around him, as if he were a swaddled foal. He was content to drift here in this place, to be swept away by the moon-borne tides.
Slowly, bit by bit, little by little, what he sensed became real. It was water all around him, surrounding him, drowning him. No, not drowning. There was fluid in his lungs, but he was not starved for air. The tides turned amniotic and he felt reality solidify into substance around him while the haunting melody of the lullabye retreated deeper into his ears.
Groggy, his mouth full of cotton and something foul, Sundance attempted to open his eyes. His first attempt went poorly, and the stinging light forced him to squeeze his eyes shut. Phantom bells rang in his ears and while most of his body felt quite numb, his back felt as though it had been set ablaze.
“Oh, oh, I think I see his eyes moving!”
He was unable to place the familiar voice in his current state and amidst the ringing bells he heard the sound of flowing liquid. The sensation of blue was still with him, a deep, dark, nighttime blue. His stomach lurched and the acrid flavour of bile joined the taste of cotton and yuck. Somepony lifted his head, but did so carefully, and something was placed against his lips.
When he felt the wet, he drank, but swallowed too much too soon. He choked, coughed, sputtered, and while he fought to breathe, his eyes managed to open, but everything was far too blurry. After hacking for a bit, he was able to breathe again, and the cup was placed near his lips once more.
“Slowly,” a voice said.
A slow trickle was poured into his mouth and Sundance wished for more. The liquid was cold, delightful, refreshing. After a few swallows, he realised it was apple juice—and it was the best apple juice he had ever tasted. The sweetness washed away the taste of bile and soaked through the cotton that had left his mouth as dry as a desert.
When his eyes focused, he saw a beak. What sort of pony had a beak? He blinked, his thoughts far too scattered for any sort of meaningful conjugation, and he focused upon the sweet, sweet taste of apples instead. Never in his life had his throat ever been this dry and as more and more of his senses returned to him, he wondered how long he had been out.
“Oh, look, he’s awake. See, Nuance, I told you he’d be fine. Now dry those tears, dear.”
Nuance? Sundance made a dedicated effort to get his eyes open and make them focus. The beak was a good start. Slow, little by little, it gained clarity and he saw Silver Lining looking down at him with worried, expressive eyes. His ether-addled mind balked at the idea of doing anything other than looking and drinking.
“Hi,” said Silver Lining. “Can you see me? You woke up in the middle of getting sewed up and freaked out. It took a lot of ether to put you back under. You gave your nurse quite a shiner.”
Sundance tried to say something, but all that came out was a whimper. Another face slipped into his vision, and this one looked down at him with great concern. Princess Celestia’s face was quite literally like a ray of sunshine, and the gentle warmth she radiated restored his senses. He looked up at her, she looked down at him, and what little of Sundance’s mind that currently worked wondered what she saw.
“Rise and shine, Grandson. You have a funeral to attend.”
As Sundance recovered, and Silver Lining helped him drink apple juice, Princess Celestia chatted away at him as if there was nothing wrong: “Poor Nuance, he wasn’t prepared for all of this and I think it’s been a little overwhelming. Today was Nuance’s Day, the day that we spend together, and when everything happened and I made preparations to leave, I had to bring him with me, because it is really very important to keep your promises. I thought I’d be bringing Nuance to a celebratory occasion, but as it turns out, I was wrong. It seems as though you earned your tree the hard way, Grandson. As for my dear little Nuance, he’s getting to learn firsthoof that Mommy’s life is no bed of roses. At least I kept my promise to spend the day with him.”
Nuance sat on the floor, his ears erect, and every time his mother said his name, he sighed.
“I had high hopes,” the alabaster behemoth said, still nattering away while Sundance drank. “When I gave you this position, I had the highest hopes, but I also had a few concerns. You’re a bit… passive, dear. Well, passive in a relative sense. Anypony who chases after a rampaging owlbear is most certainly not passive. My sister wrestles them for sport and let me tell you, sometimes, she comes home in a rather rough state. Nasty creatures, owlbears. Magical predators. They have to eat magical creatures to maintain themselves. Just nasty, really.
“Owlbears never stop growing, they only get larger and larger as the years go by. Their bones turn harder than iron and over time, they become quite difficult to kill. Your peasants told me what you did. Nasty, nasty business with that axe. I dare say that you gave that owlbear quite a headache. You’re very brave, Sundance… but we’ve established that. And maybe just a little stupid. Not many ponies would intentionally try to become the focus of an owlbear’s rage.”
While Princess Celestia paused, Sundance managed to croak out a single word: “Corduroy…”
“Oh, your lovely nurse is quite busy. All the excitement caused somepony to go into labour. One life ends, another begins. Such is life.” With a turn of her head, she looked down at her son, Nuance. “Nuance, would you like to see a mare give birth? It would be good for you to have some awareness of the suffering of others.”
The colt’s first response was his ears drooping, followed by him recoiling in disgust.
“Suit yourself, Nuance.” She held out her hoof and made a dismissive wave in her son’s direction. “I think I could use another cup of tea. If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go help myself. Stressful times, these, and I need a spot of tea now and again to get me through the day.”
With that, the big mare’s horn flashed and left Sundance blinded.
“Where is Sumac?” Sundance asked while Silver Lining steaded him on his hooves and kept him upright. He wobbled around, but somehow managed to stay upright even though he couldn’t feel anything past his knees.
“Tending to Cucumber. Washing him, brushing him, making him look his very best. Mortician stuff.”
Sighing, Sundance stared down at the floor and tried to make sense of his emotions. His mind, still addled by the ether, wasn’t very cooperative about sorting everything out. Princess Celestia’s caffeine-fueled cheerfulness had left him unsettled. She was gone, at the moment; the big mare had stepped outside after guzzling her tea. Nuance was still present, but the colt hadn’t said much at all.
Overwhelmed by everything, he asked, “How did you get here?”
“Oh, Sumac sent a message saying he needed me, and I came. I wish Pebble was here, but she’s in Canterlot, throwing her weight around and trying to make things happen. Steady there, Sundance.” Holding up her talons, Silver Lining nudged Sundance just enough to keep him upright. “There’s a lot to do before the sundown. That’s when Cucumber will be buried. So come on, snap out of it if you can. Let’s see those legs move. Your ponies need you right now. They’re hurt… grieving… quite shaken. So it is very important to get you back to being your usual self. They’ve lost their caretaker, and they’re bound to turn to you for comfort.”
“She’s right, you know.” Nuance shuffled closer, his hooves clicking on the wooden floorboards. He started to say something else—but didn’t.
“They’re terrified that you’re going to die,” Silver Lining remarked. “No amount of reassurance will persuade them that you’re okay. So we need to have you up and moving. For them.”
“Yeah,” Nuance added.
For reasons unknown, Sundance was offended by this very notion. It was time to present himself to his peasants and tell them he was okay. With a drunken wobble, he lurched forward, and would have tumbled to the floor if it had not been for the combined efforts of Nuance and Silver Lining holding him upright. This gave him pause and he wondered what the ether had done to him. What would his mother say about all of this?
“I don’t die.” He snorted, still offended by the very idea. “I don’t crash, either. But I do have some exciting landings.” He couldn’t recognise the sound of his own voice, and he spoke as though he was three sheets to the wind. “Eks-shite-ing” he had said, and he had to contain himself so he wouldn’t giggle.
His mother would not approve of his current state of being.
“Oh, Sumac crashes. Why, he trips and stumbles just getting into bed.” Silver Lining rolled her eyes, sighed, and sidestepped closer to Sundance. “I don’t think he sees half as well as he says he does.”
“You sound drunk.” Nuance, wary, relaxed his magic, and when he seemed certain that everything was okay, he let go. “Perhaps it might be best if you didn’t say anything during the funeral. Blueblood, my master, he told me that sometimes, nobles should be seen, but not heard.”
“Heard, but not seen. Got it.” Though he had said the words, Sundance almost couldn’t make out the incomprehensible garble coming out of his mouth. “Invisibubbles.”
On Nuance’s face, concern caused his cheeks to tighten, and one eyebrow raised in the exact same manner as his mother. His piercing gaze intensified and Nuance the Foal vanished, only to be replaced by Nuance, Son of his Dam, Celestia. A sound came from deep within his throat, a sort of groaning wicker, and the small, slight colt stomped one hoof against the floorboards.
“We still have some time,” the colt said, now a tiny version of his mother. “As Mom likes to say, ‘Integrity, ingenuity, and a cup of tea will salvage any situation.’ Guards, prepare some tea and pour it down this pony’s gullet. We can’t have him making a fool of himself at the funeral, or worse, disrupting the proceedings. Sort him out.”
There was a clank of armor as the guard rushed to do Nuance’s bidding.