//------------------------------// // 7. An Expert Touch // Story: Out of Love // by Carapace //------------------------------// If there was one thing Esalen had learned quickly while volunteering her time in Caress’s clinic, is that there was never really an end to studying or diagrams. Dear Morrigan, was there ever. As she and Toola entered the clinic, offering bright smiles and nods of greeting to a middle aged couple who’d come to the village just before that mess during the Summer Sun Celebration—a pair of walk-ins, if she recalled the schedule—and stepped through the door leading into the massage room and Caress’s office, Esalen found herself reacquainted with that reality in earnest. Caress’s students stopped in mid step, their eyes wide. “What,” Toola whispered breathily, “in the name of love?” A sentiment which, Esalen had to admit, truly fit the scene before their very eyes. The actual clinic itself was less a formal building, more the changeling’s old home, repurposed into a fully-functional clinic after she’d moved in with Queen Euphoria and Cool Breeze. Caress’s office was less an actual office, more a little side room she’d repurposed almost haphazardly to suit her own needs. It was maybe half the size of one of their shared room back home, with a single window to allow sunlight to filter in, a wooden desk which bore several pictures of herself with the Queen’s entourage—as well as several of individual members —a stacked paper tray where client information and billing were set, and a chalkboard calendar she’d purchased during a visit to Canterlot hung for easy editing and viewing. Hanging on the wall were certifications and diplomas from the Royal Canterlot University School of Medicine and University of Manehattan Therapeutic College. This was all quite normal. What wasn’t was the scattering of anatomy diagrams, all focused on the muscular and skeletal systems of each of the three pony races and a specialized changeling model, pinned to the wall outside the office, and a few new pod seats and tables set aside for reasons neither quite new. “Are those my eager little pupils I hear?” Caress’s dulcet tones carried through the air like sweet music. The changeling strode out of one of the recently added rooms, unused as of yet, a box of pins held aloft by the verdant glow of her magic floating along in her wake. Beaming, she nodded toward the diagram-laden wall. “What do you think, girls?” “I think I must have somehow missed the sheer volume of your diagram collection,” Esalen deadpanned. “Where in Morrigan’s name did you get all this?” Wrinkling her snout, Caress glanced between her and the diagrams, and back again. “Those old things? I’ve had them forever. You used to look at them when you two visited, you silly things!” She tilted her head, a hint of incredulous mirth showing in her eyes. “Surely you didn’t forget.” That many? Really? Blinking, Esalen turned her sugar pink eyes upon the mass of diagrams covering the wall. Covering it? There wasn’t a hair’s breadth between any one of the posters and its brethren. They had taken that wall over like a mass of fungus or rot! Still, had they really gone through that many over the years? Time did fly. “I guess I never quite realized we’d gone through so many over the years.” Her keen eyes flitted over the diagrams, Esalen had to furrow her brows. Were there really so many nerves clustered around a unicorn’s horn? By love, it was a wonder Prim didn’t get migraines! Or did she just never complain because Caress had some secret cure method Esalen’s grandfather, Beguile, had taught her? With each passing second, Esalen found herself wondering more and more what she’d forgotten about the different muscles and nerves of pony and changeling bodies. Slowly, a sense of doubt began to creep into her chest. An uncertain flick of her tongue earned her a sample of the familiar, unpleasant taste of Toola’s own nerves—stale bread and moldy cheese, sticking to the tip of her tongue and all over the roof of her mouth. Utterly nasty! Laughing, Caress trotted over and patted her shoulder. “Oh, don’t worry your silly heads! I don’t expect you to memorize every muscle,” she said, nodding to the diagrams. “This is to help familiarize yourselves with which muscles may or may not correspond to pain in certain areas, it’ll help you remember quicker then if I just had you stare at them for hours on end and tried to throw you out on your own to help a patient.” “Oh?” Toola asked. A trickle of relief seemed to flow into her chest, evident in how her ears began to perk. “Then what’s all this … redecorating?” “A little something I was thinking about leading up to trade day.” Caress gestured between the diagrams and the setup with the pod seats and tables. “When Beguile sent me off to school so I could get my actual licensing and certifications taken care of, each of the clinics and hospitals I did my clinical rotations at had these little areas set up for therapists and patients. Though, it was less out in the open, more in the actual massage rooms.” She paused and gave a little shrug before adding, “They had a bigger setup. Anyway, we’d take the time to point out the muscle and nerves for our patients, explaining everything we’d diagnosed from what they described. Our mentors would listen in all the while and chip in if they felt it necessary. Or if we were entirely off-base.” An interesting notion. Esalen took a moment to consider it, idly chewing on the inside of her cheek. It certainly couldn’t hurt.  Communicating what they felt was the cause of a patient’s pain or discomfort had been Caress’s practice along as she’d watched, and having the chance to do so before her mentor could serve as a bit of a safety net. Though there was also the worry of botching an entire assessment. Enough so that either Caress stepped in and took it over before the patient left, or the patient grew skittish after a series of corrections and didn’t give it a chance. Caress’s hoof touched her shoulder. “Relax, Esalen,” she said softly. “I’m not throwing you to the timberwolves. I’m going to be with you every step of the way, just like your grandfather was for me.” With a kind smile, she added, “And don’t worry. I plan to have you both follow me along with the assessments and answering as prompted. You’ll still be doing some of the actual massage therapy work while I oversee.” “And the same for me with yoga?” Toola asked, a hint of hesitation to her tone. “Yoga isn’t quite my strongest point, but I definitely know a bit.” Caress moved to stand near the young gymnast and offered a supportive smile. “I’ve been able to ask around and talk with some old schoolmates with their own clinics, several of whom studied yoga quite heavily. So, they were quite happy to hear I was training a couple students of my own, and pointed me in the right direction  to get you some nice mats and a few books and charts on techniques. Something to help you get started in a more formal way.” Magenta ears stood ramrod straight. Toola beamed. “Is it all in one of the rooms?” she asked, nearly bouncing on the tips off er hooves. Her short, curly tail bounced and swished eagerly. Laughing, Caress steppe to the side and gestured to the room on their right. “It’s all in there for you.” She barely had a chance to brace herself for the sudden leap and ironclad grip of the excitable mare before she was nuzzled and released as Toola scampered into her new yoga room to inspect the setup. Esalen, naturally, followed along, curious to see it herself. The room seemed to be a repurposed bedroom, with most of th furniture cleared out to make room for a row of three yoga mats and another positioned at the front of the room. Nearby, there were a few foam rollers—for what purpose, Esalen didn’t know—and a ballerina’s stretching bar. And in the middle of it all, stood a giddy little mare with a smile brighter than the sun, so excited she seemed to vibrate. A happy little squeal sounded as she began to prance in place. “Well,” Caress drawled, her voice low enough so only Esalen could hear, “I’d say she’s thrilled. Why don’t you and I go greet our walk-ins? We can get you girls started for your first actual day.” With a wink, she added, “But first, how about I show you your setup? I think you’ll find it suits your needs.” Ears perking, Esalen turned to follow her out of the room and into the farthest one to the left side of the clinical area. Caress opened the door to the new therapy room—Esalen’s new therapy room. Her heart hammered in her chest like a steady drummer’s cadence. Esalen licked her fangs, biting down on her bottom lip to try to keep the smile from splitting her face, if only for a bare moment. The room itself was set up much like Caress’s own, with a massage table at the very center, dimmed lighting which filtered in from a slatted window, and a counter set off to the side bearing a bevy of oils, lotions, and a bottle of sanitizing salve from Ladybug’s stores. Upon a little table resting in the corner, was a vanilla scented candle, its wick lit and the lazily dancing flame trailing a fine aroma to fill the room. “I didn’t want to put too much together for your rooms,” Caress told her. “So you could personalize the setup yourselves. Think of this as my way of saying welcome to the—eep!” Esalen caught her in such a tight embrace and lifted her straight off the ground, all her mentor could do was chitter her head off and nuzzle the younger changeling’s mane. The squeal and force of a bouncy little missile joining the hug was all that was needed to bring a bright grin and jubilant tears to the corners of her eyes. She had her own massage room! She was really going to perform her trade! “It’s been a lot more prevalent of late. I’m starting to worry a bit that I pulled a muscle during some of our drills after the Summer Sun Celebration.” Frowning, Esalen trotted a slow circle around Tailwind, her eyes flitting between each of his legs and wings in turn. He’d come in a short while ago, complaining about a sharp pain between his wing joints. Her gaze then turned to the diagrams on the wall. Back injuries in pegasi were tricky—their natural want to fly, their connection to weather, all of it came from a sense of power and strength, which came from two places: their back and core. Having seen the pegasi of the Village Guard perform their flight drills for as long as she could remember, she had little doubt that it must’ve been unbearable long before he’d chosen to bite the bit and visit. “Could I have you show me with some slow stretching?” she asked. With Caress watching from near her own massage room, Esalen stood before him and adopted a relaxed stance, with her hooves shoulder and hip width apart and head held high. Then, slowly, she raised her right foreleg, then extended it out to the side. “Can you try to follow along with me? Just stop if you feel any pain and tell me where it is.” Tailwind nodded once, then began to mimic her pose. However, as he began to shift and extend his leg out, the sky blue pegasus paused, a wince marring his face and fluffy white bangs covered his eyes. “Pain,” he grunted. “Between my wings. Stabs when I try to shift.” Esalen made a quick mental note, then motioned for him to put his hoof back on the floor. Once he’d done so, she raised the other, repeating the process. With each hoof, she made him raise and extend until he felt pain, each time it was that same spot. Even with his wings—one out, one out, both up, both fully extended—his pain stayed in that same area. Once she’d checked his limbs, Esalen came to the part she had a feeling would earn her a flurry of curses and a pained grimace. She shifted her weight to her hind hooves and began to bend her head to the floor. “Can you bend like you’re trying to touch your forehead to the floor?” The look Tailwind shot her suggested he’d like to do anything but, and that he’d very much rather tell her to go dunk her head in Lake Neighagara. But he bit back any commentary and did as asked, shifting his weight back just as she’d done, and drew in a deep apprehensive breath. Then he began to bend low. The effect was almost instantaneous. Tailwind hissed and let out a pained grunt, his legs nearly buckling. “Pain!” he ground out through gritted teeth. “Shooting pain!” “Where?”  Caress asked, stepping toward them. She held up a hoof to forestall any of Esalen’s questions and offered a kind smile. “Where’s the pain, Tailwind? Can you describe it for me?” “All down my back, shooting pain,” he said as he tried to stand up straight again, wincing all the way. “Gets to my hips, then it’s like someone is trying to wiggle a spear around.” Humming, Caress’s gaze flitted up to the diagrams. “Shooting pain down his back, to about his hips,” she repeated. “What do you think, Esalen?” “Er.” Esalen started, glancing toward the diagrams for help. Her eyes fell upon the three back muscles along a pegasus’s spine—spinalis dorsi, longissimus dorsi, and serratus dorsalis posterior. “I would say inflammation of one of the three dorsi muscles, possible pull, causing the other muscles to compensate for movement, leading to a strain. Er, as my initial assessment.” “I would agree. Though I wouldn’t rule out a strain of the gluteus as well.” She nodded her approval, turning face Tailwind. “Tail, Tail, Tail, when will you learn to take things slow when you feel pain? Don’t answer. We both know that day will never come.” Gently, she patted the sheepish stallion’s shoulder and nuzzled his cheek. “Well, we can’t have one of my Phory’s favorite guards in pain at his post or running drills, now can we?” Ducking his head, Tailwind rubbed the back of his mane. “Fleetwing had to pester me to come in the first place,” he admitted. “Then thank Morrigan your wife is sensible.” Her piece said, Caress motioned for him to head into her massage room. “Right this way, dear. Essy, if you don’t mind, I’m going to take care of Tailwind myself since this is a back issue and we need him in the air.” Esalen shook her head. “Not at all. Would it be okay if I watched?” An approving glint shone in her eyes. “I think that’d be just fine. Get Toola for me, as well. She may find seeing it helpful to her own work.” Turning to Tailwind, she added, “And I think we definitely want you to do a little stretching after this. No arguments.” Tailwind rustled his wings. “Can we have her not tie me into a pretzel?” he asked. Laughing, Caress tussled his mane. “Only if you’re a good boy. Now, come along. Let’s get your back taken care of.” After collecting Toola, Esalen stood by in Caress’s massage room in complete silence. She watched closely, her ears open to take in every bit of conversation, each time she advised him to breathe, if his pain worsened under her touch, if he needed a moment, everything. Constant care, repeated assurances that Tailwind was in complete control of things if he felt any level of discomfort, even as her hooves kneaded and pressed against his muscles, or rolled tiny circles to work out his stiffness. And through it all, even as his face seemed to contort both in pain and utter bliss, Tailwind followed every word of her advice and answered to the best of his ability. Or, at least, he did. Right up until Caress had worked out the pain and rendered him a sleepy-eyed, smiling fool of a blissed-out stallion. His feathers fluffing and a low, contented hum rumbling from deep within his chest. From cursing and wincing at every motion to happy and content with a bit of care and an expert touch. By the time Caress tapped him on the shoulder and told him to hop off the table, Tailwind looked like a pony half a dozen years younger, and moved with grace that rivaled Toola. He bounced lightly on his hooves, beaming as the lack of pain registered with him. “Thanks, Caress!” he said. “I should’ve come to you sooner! I could get back on duty before the shift change!” The changeling fixed him with a look that spoke of one part amusement, one part sternness. “You’ll do no such thing until I say so, you silly stallion. Fleetwing would have my head if I even thought of letting you go galavanting off without putting you through stretches to be sure and you somehow hurt yourself worse.” Tailwind blinked. “But—” “Nothing.” Caress turned to Toola, nodding toward their patient. “Take him and put him through a light stretch routine, please. And you—” she returned her gaze to Tailwind and arched a brow “—speak up at the first sign of pain or I send Esalen to fetch Fleetwing. Clear?” “Yes’m,” he replied, resigning himself without further resistance. Esalen and Toola Roola shared matching grins, the young mare waggling her ears as she took Tailwind by his elbow and led him out of the room with an eager little swish in her tail. All the while, she chattered away about different ideas for stretches, advising him to consider adding a routine to start his day, just as she had. At least, she’d planned to follow right up until she heard a familiar voice call out from the waiting room. “Hello? Caress? Esalen? Toola?” Her ears twitched. Was that Vector? Wrinkling her snout, Esalen turned away from Toola and Tailwind to trot out to the waiting room, curiosity written across her face. She opened the door with a deft tug of magic, and stepped out to greet her friend. “Hey, Vector,” she said. “Sorry about the wait. We were just helping Tailwind with a bit of a pain in his back.” Wincing, Vector ran a hoof through his teal and gray mane. “Got that bad, eh? He’d been lagging in some of our drills, but I didn’t want to be the one to say anything. New pony and all.” Now, there was something she hadn’t expected. “You? Keeping your mouth shut?” Esalen scoffed. “By love, things are all topsy-turvy since that night, aren’t they?” “Don’t remind me. Zephyr’s been grumbling—I mean, he always does—but he’s been grumbling about how they’ve never made us keep pace like this for so long. Usually they give a bit of a rest day or two.” Vector shrugged, rolling his shoulders as if to work out some stiffness. “Doesn’t bother me too much, but I’ll be hit with lightning if all that armor doesn’t make you stiff. Do you have any idea how heavy those helmets are?” “I’ve never tried one on, but I can imagine it must be quite an adjustment to wear all that armor.” She cocked a brow, eying him a moment. “Just your neck and shoulders?” He shifted a bit in place, his smile turning decidedly sheepish. “Er, well, it’s a bit … everywhere.” At the way her brows shot up, he added, “Hey! You know me, I never skimped on working out, but …” Esalen inclined her head, giving an affirmative hum. It was true, Vector had been training for as long as she’d known him, always eager to prove he was the fastest and strongest around—thus his constant wrestling with Aspire. All in the name of someday being a guard. But actually joining was another matter entirely, and being thrown in during a time of crisis when they were drilling and patrolling at such a torrid pace … No wonder he was starting to feel it. She stepped aside to allow him entry, jerking her head toward her massage room. “Come on in. I’ll let Caress know you and I talked about what was bothering you, and we’ll get you taken care of. Might as well give you a full-body one since it’s all over.” Vector grinned a coltish grin. “You’re a lifesaver, Essy,” he said, hurrying inside, pausing only to nuzzle her cheek. “You can have all the love you want after this! By Morrigan, is this going to make tonight’s shift a breeze!” All the love she wanted? Chuckling, the young changeling shook her head with a smile, and licked her lips. She guided him into her massage room, the happy swish of her tail and rhythmic sway of her hips a testament to her happy mood. Their first day of the trade had gotten off to a good start indeed.