//------------------------------// // I:II Last Call for Hope // Story: The Solar Enigma // by Lionheart07 //------------------------------// The Solar Enigma Book I Chapter 2: Last Call for Hope “Optimism is the faith that leads to achievement. Nothing can be done without hope and confidence.” – Helen Keller Soarin was annoyed. Really annoyed. He had accidently left the map of Ponyville at the house he had recently vacated, and was not completely sure where he was going. He had a filly on his back that was probably going to die if she didn’t get help. And his appetite had yet to be sated. All in all, it was a fairly typical day of the chaos that was Soarin’s life. Raising his head against the harsh wind, Soarin squinted his eyes. This road is easy enough to follow. The edges of pathways can guide me, I just need to go forward, pass seven buildings, hit the intersection and take a left. Then pass some more buildings and the hospital will be on the right. The only question is… was it eight or nine? Or was it ten? Snorting angrily, Soarin watched the snow for a moment. It was coming down in torrents – density so thick it was more similar to pouring rain than flurrying snow. Briefly glancing backward, Soarin took a deep breath, prepared his muscles and marched forward. It was tough going, like walking through mud, but he managed all the same. Noting the walkways toward the buildings Soarin slowly counted in his head as he progressed up the road. After passing the seventh walkway, Soarin paused raising a hoof to his chin. This should be the main street of Ponyville. Since the Hospital is on the right, I guess crossing the road would be a good idea. I can just keep going until I hit it, I shouldn’t need to know the exact number of buildings I pass. Soarin sighed. The problem is that this street doesn’t have an easy edge to follow. Maybe… If I cross the street and actually go up to the building and bounce directly from building to building... that would keep me in line and on track. Of course, that’ll only work if the buildings are in a straight line. But the map made it look like they were, so it seems like my best option. Nodding his head, Soarin strode forward into the street. In the middle of crossing Soarin glanced around. It was surreal being in a place where everything was completely white. Even clouds had some discrepancies, but here, it was perfect flawless nothing. It was also getting dark, giving off a feeling of forbearing. It was almost like being on a sheet a paper; Soarin just hoped that the artist wouldn’t make things more difficult for him. Continuing to push forward, Soarin forced his legs into a steady rhythm. He walked until, on his horizon, a blackish tint appeared, dirtying the immaculate white in the air. Cautiously stepping, with eyes narrowed, the anomaly morphed into a small wooden building in no time at all. A hint of smile appeared on his lips and Soarin started to put his plan into action. He kept one hoof on the side of the building as he moved left. Feeling the wall give way slightly, Soarin paused. He was able to feel the filly’s breath on the back of his neck and mane. Glancing over his shoulder, Soarin tried to analysis the filly. Unfortunately, like a burrito, he was unable to see the insides and could only really see the outer blanket shell. She seemed fine. Turning back around, Soarin pushed past the doorway. Keeping his hoof in contact he reached the end of the structure. Taking a deep breath, Soarin squared his shoulders and stepped out into the white void; with no knowledge of the area, he could only hope there was a building in front of him. It was a leap of faith. Steeling his trembling nerves Soarin focused himself toward the next structure. And just like clockwork it was only a dozen steps away. Soarin breathed noisily before repeating the process, making sure to stop by the door of the following structure and check on the filly. He repeated it again: three, four, seven times. Suddenly, harsh wheezing interrupted his meticulous pace. It quickly turned into a few violent coughs and Soarin felt something wet land on his mane and neck. It had a coppery scent in the air – just like blood. “Are you okay” Soarin paused and turned his head. “Ya, but its cold. I just want to go inside.” The response was not as weak as it had been earlier, but there were still copious amounts of exhaustion laced in. “Not too much longer, than I promise, everything will be better.” Soarin kept his voice as clear and confident as possible. “Promise?” The voice of the filly was quiet and disbelieving. “Of course, I never go back on my word.” Soarin perked his chest up as he spoke – words sparkling with confidence. “But no pony ever really keeps their promises…” The voice was neither quiet nor naive. Rather, each and every word was spoken slowly, contemplation mixed with a haze of confusion. Soarin felt his eyes narrow and his mind race. There is a story there, but now is not the time, nor the place. It’s amazing how coherent she still is though. Stretching his neck out Soarin tried to ease out some of the stiffness he was feeling. Trying to ignore his increasingly sore and protesting muscles Soarin started the trek to the hospital again. Seven buildings became eight and eight became ten. Reaching the end of the eleventh building in line Soarin paused, once again, for a minute. His expression no longer contained any trace of joy or satisfaction. Brows and eyes narrowed Soarin muttered incoherently under his breath. Body tensing up like a winding spring, Soarin fluttered his wings and tail out, trying to relax. He closed his eyes and focused on his breathing – thinking of sun and summer, ice-cream and sundaes. Before he could properly settle down, a voracious crack rang though out the area. Snapping like a rubber band Soarin jumped and scanned the area. Only to feel a torrent of snow hit him from above. Knees buckling, he fell to the ground, engulfed by the deluge of snow. Noticing how much warmer it was, Soarin momentarily debated staying buried, but reality caught up to him. Instead, he stretched his wings, pushed the snow off and, with surprising difficulty, managed to stand back up. Shaking his body and flicking his tail, he managed to get most of the snow off of him. He turned his head around to look at the filly. She seemed a little shaken up by what had happened, but was mostly okay. However, the blankets were a different story. The snow had seeped into the cotton and in a few more minutes, at most, the blankets would be completely soaked. Really? What are the chances? That was bucking stupid. Although, Soarin’s eyes turned toward a hoof sized branch that had fallen no more than a wing length away, it could have been much worse. Soarin neighed hollowly, almost like a sigh. Now with a time limit, Soarin forced his muscles to work even harder than before. Not only was the filly soaked, but his mane and tail were also drenched and could cause problems. Gritting his teeth and closing his eyes Soarin ignored the burning sensation his body was sending him, making him feel as though his veins were on fire, and pushed onward. In critical situations time has a tendency to act abnormally. Sometimes it will speed up, and others it will slow down. However, blocking other senses can have a multiplicative affect. As Soarin pushed forward through the white sheet, his own senses were getting confused; he couldn’t see, the wind muffled his hearing and the cold was muting his feeling. To combat the unease and helplessness that he felt, Soarin started to do the most boring thing he could think of – counting. With his eyes closed, and pain in his limbs, Soarin ignored them and focused on controlling his breathing and counting his steps. Even so, he had no idea whether ten minutes or ten seconds had passed. It was all becoming a mind-mumbling blur. Luckily, it was at that time when his nose hit something much more solid than uncondensed snow. Snapping his eyes open, Soarin took in the large cobblestone pedestal located directly in front of him. It was mostly rectangular and made of marble. Glancing upwards he noticed a sign was resting above its base. Standing on his back legs and using a hoof to clear it off, Soarin saw a symbol etched onto it; a large red circle with a white cross and small pink hearts at the corners. Soarin let out a breath of relief that he hadn’t even realized he was holding. Adrenaline helping numb his sore limbs Soarin walked from the back of the sign into the unknown, purpose and determination etched in his pose. Only ten paces later Soarin ran into a convoluted blob of snow intermixed with shadows of light gray that gave its distinction. Halting his steps and glancing out of the corner of his eyes Soarin thought he could make something out on the edge of his visibility. Trusting his convoluted senses he took a few tentative steps in that direction and soon yellow light started to seep into his sight. For a fleeting second Soarin thought that it was somehow the sun – regardless of the hour – before logic set in. Continuing his trek toward the rectangular projection of light, a black silhouette started to grow in front of Soarin and soon towered over the small flier. Like a lightning strike had hit his brain the origin of the light became apparent. Smiling, Soarin started to hum a simple tune, spirits rising. Nearing the, now obvious, window Soarin started to work his way around the building. After what felt like no time at all, Soarin found himself standing in front of a large oak door. Filled with enthusiasm Soarin gave the doorframe a quick kiss – ebullient in success. It was the first time Soarin had kissed a doorframe in his life. It wouldn’t be the last. Snapping his eyes close after the blast of light that greeted him as he opened the door, Soarin took a moment to compose himself. Breathing deeply, a calm feeling washed over him and into his soul. Relaxed, he opened his eyes and moved forward. A white nurse sat at the front desk and was eying him with an interested expression. She was wearing a white nurse’s cap with the same symbol that was on the sign out front. Looking to his right he saw what appeared to be a waiting area. It had an assortment of large fluffy couches and engraved rosewood tables. A various assortment of magazines and books populated the surfaces. There was also a large wooden fireplace that had a roaring fire in place. He also noticed that there was somepony…or something watching him over the edge of the couch. What in the hay is that? It looks almost like a young dragon… but why would one be here? The creature was purple with light green spikes and a darker green for the eyes. Soarin guessed that it was male, but it was difficult to tell just from the head. Facing the front desk Soarin moved toward it with newfound strength in his legs – a confident and refined trot. Just then a unicorn walked into the room, looking for, Soarin assumed, the nurse. He was a yellowish tan and was wearing a white lab coat. He had blue eyes and was wearing a pair of thin-framed spectacles over his nose. Soarin wondered if he needed them, or wore them for cosmetic reasons. He also had a full brown mane and tail. He was obviously a doctor. Soarin increased his pace and walked up to the doctor. “I need your help really bad,” he tried to say as he approached the unicorn. Unfortunately, he spoke too quickly and his speech came out as a garbled mess. Hearing the commotion the doctor slowly turned toward Soarin, “I can’t understand you if you don’t speak like…” Eyes snapping toward Soarin’s back the doctor paused. “What’s with the saddle?” He was eyeing the small yellow butterflies that were on the saddles straps. His glance then shifted to Soarin’s long wet mane. “Ah, I see. Sorry, but I don’t know how to do sex change operations.” It took a minute for his comment to sink into the tired flier. “WAIT, WHAT? NO!” “Its okay, your secret is safe with me, Ma’am” The doctor mockingly patted Soarin’s shoulder with a hoof. “The nurses on the other hoof, might be a bit more difficult to keep to secrecy” “… Look can you just help this filly, please? It’s serious.” Soarin was not in the mood to play games right now. The doctor’s gaze moved to the bundle on Soarin’s back, “Certainly, Ma’am. Follow Nurse Redheart please, I will be with you momentarily. Ignoring the vocal jab, he followed the white mare down the hallway. They passed a few other nurses and every time they would start giggling at the sight of the Wonderbolt. Redheart seemed to disapprove of their actions, but wasn’t voicing any protests. Soarin was used to attention so it really didn’t bother him too much, until one of the nurses called out, “The saddle is so cute Soarin, I can help you style your mane if you like!” Momentarily, Soarin toyed with the idea of bashing his head against the wall and for a second it seemed like a really good idea. Unfortunately, common sense quickly caught up with him, so he settled for sighing in frustration instead. The two ponies came to a standard medical room and walked inside. The room was painted mostly blue, but there was a band of brown near the bottom of the walls. The room had a very thin tan colored carpet and two beds, which were separated by a curtain that could be opened and closed for privacy. There weren’t many medical apparatuses in the room, only a few hanging on the walls behind the beds. “Help me move her to the bed please.” Redheart had already started to undo the ropes that held the blankets and filly to Soarin’s back. Once the knots were undone, they quickly freed the filly from her cocoon and moved her to the bed. Now that it was no longer necessary, Soarin hastily removed the saddle from his back. He was not sad to see it go. “So what happened?” Redheart asked with a mix of curiosity and concern. Soarin explained what had transpired in the time since he had found the filly. His recollection didn’t seem to faze the nurse very much. As he finished his story he was surprised to be answered from behind, rather than from the nurse standing in front of him. “Check her hoofs. It’s not good for the tissue to thaw and rapidly refreeze with frostbite.” Turning around, he noticed that the doctor he had seen earlier had arrived. Unsure of the unicorn’s name Soarin shot a quick glace at his nameplate. Dr. Gregory Horse. The doctor noticed Soarin’s gaze. “There will be time for introductions later, now move and let me do my job.” Not wanting to agitate the doctor, Soarin stepped out of the way and watched Dr. Horse approach the bed. “There is definitely frostbite here, but it seems to have been well wrapped up during the transport. I don’t see any recent damage.” Nurse Redheart said while squinting at Scootaloo’s hooves. The doctor, on the other side of the bed, lifted a hoof and stared at it for a minute. “It’s hard to tell, but I agree. Likely second degree frostbite, but again, it’s hard to tell.” Curiosity and concern getting the better of him, Soarin spoke out, “Is that bad?” Dr. Horse turned and glared at Soarin with very narrow eyes. Soarin, feeling like a berated child, felt his ears and tail droop automatically while waiting for a response. “I’ll…be quiet now” “That’s a good idea. To answer your question, it’s not good but there shouldn’t be any permanent damage.” He turned to Redheart. “Now the best thing to do is simply keep them warm. The water should be set to slightly above the body temperature. The limbs should also start to get their color back and start to blister or swell. Now,” he faced toward Soarin again, “you said you tried to administer C.P.R. correct?” “Yup” “Better check and make sure her ribs are okay then.” The doctor moved the covers off the filly and felt around her chest area for a minute. After Dr. Horse was done he moved the blankets back into place. “It seems that they are fine. That only leaves the question of her hemoptysis. You said you remember it being clear and smooth right?” The doctor said with a pointed glance at Soarin. “Ah, I’m not sure what that hemo-thingy is.” Dr. Horse rolled his eyes. “It means she was coughing up blood.” “Oh… ya, it was really clear, crimson red too. In fact she spit some out on my neck, it might still be there if you want to see.” Dr. Horse sighed and started moving toward Soarin. “You really should clean foreign blood off your body as soon as possible. It’s not good to leave it there. But in this case it would be advantageous if I could see it. Could you lean forward? Soarin, being tired, decided that it was best to simply lay down. Closing his eyes he waiting for the doctor to finish his inspection. However, Dr. Horse was quiet for at least a minute and feeling like a specimen under a microscope Soarin felt himself start to squirm around. Finally, Dr. Horse’s brusque voice broke the silence like a rock in a pond, “The blood has started to dry up, but it’s very apparent that it was deep red and smooth.” “So no pneumonia?” Redheart must be standing over him as well – the voice was close. “That was my first guess as well, but if that was the case then the blood would be mixed with air and mucus, it’s much too clear for that.” “So what caused it?” There was an edge of uncertainty in Redheart’s voice that made Soarin squirm even more. “I have no idea. I need to run some tests and think about it.” Dr. Horse paused. “We no longer need your assistance soldier boy so it’s best if you go back and wait in the lobby. We’ll let you know when we find out more.” Standing up Soarin threw one finally glace toward the bedridden pegasus, before he turned and left the room. As Soarin headed down the hall, he heard the filly go into another series of violent coughs. They sounded worse than before. Soarin found himself resting out in the lobby. Thankfully, the fire was still blazing, and helped warmed him up a bit. The dragon Soarin had noticed earlier was sitting on the couch directly across from the roaring inferno, who, Soarin could now tell, was definitely male. He was mostly purple with green spikes and similar tinted eyes. The dragon was obviously still young as he was only about a third of Soarin’s height. “So how did she get like that?” The dragon was talking to him. Lost in his thoughts Soarin responded stupidly, “Who?” The dragon rolled his eyes and snorted. “Scootaloo, how did she get like that?” Soarin noticed that the dragon’s eyes started to narrow dangerously. “She was outside in the storm. Why do you know her?” “Ya and if I find out you did anything to her, you’ll have to answer to me.” Soarin didn’t find the protectiveness unusual. Dragons were known to be territorial and materialistic animals after all. “Of course,” Soarin said with a neutral tone and nodded his affirmative. The room fell into relative silence. Soarin himself was not usually reticent pony, but the endeavors of the day were finally taking their toll. The only sounds that could be heard were the crackling and snapping of the firewood, along with the ticks and tocs of the nearby grandfather clock. Watching the clock for a moment, it dawned on him that he had not been aware of how much time had passed. It was 7:23 Sighing deeply, he closed his eyes and tried to think to pass the time. He thought about anything he could: Mares, pies, Canterlot, the upcoming show in Cloudsdale, bribing Spitfire, anything that would hopefully keep his mind off of the filly. After what he was sure was at least a half hour, Soarin opened his eyes and looked back at the clock. It was 7:24 “Ah, come on! That was only a minute! No way!” He was answered by a loud cawing sound on the other side of the lobby. Quickly snapping his head around Soarin looked for what he assumed was a bird. Why in the world would a bird be in a hospital? His examination proofed fruitful as he spied a moderately large bird. In fact, it looked to be almost as large as his draconian companion. Its plumage was black but seemed to shift colors slightly as the light in the room reflected off of it. Its legs and beak were both black as night and the bill was long and somewhat curved. There were shaggy feathers around the neck and its eyes were a piercing blue-gray. The avian creature also had a graduated fan shaped tail. “Is that a raven?” Soarin asked to no one in particular. “Yup,” the dragon surprised him by answering. It had been a rhetorical question, as Soarin had honestly put the dragon far out of his mind. “What is a raven doing here?” Soarin’s brow was lopsided as he spoke. “Not exactly sure, I asked earlier and Redheart said that the bird always comes here during the winter. Maybe it doesn’t want to migrate?” “I thought ravens didn’t migrate.” Soarin wasn’t completely sure but he thought he heard it somewhere. Spitfire was always exuberant about birds of prey and was always going on about hawks and raptors. She even had a pet falcon called Pyre. Soarin assumed the fact was from her. “I don’t know but I don’t see you coming up with anything better.” The dragon threw his hands up in the air in obvious frustration. “Maybe it likes it here?” The dragon snorted loudly and disdainfully. “It’s a hospital, why would it be happy here? What I don’t get is why they keep it around. Aren’t ravens supposed to be symbols of death or something? At least I think that’s what Twilight said.” The dragon paused before finishing, “Seems like a bad omen to keep in a hospital.” Suddenly, the large bird opened its wings and glided through the air toward them. Soarin was impressed by the creature’s wingspan. It was almost as wide as he was long. Its wings also made an unusual creaking sound, not even remotely similar to what a pegasus’s would make while airborne. The bird landed on the couch directly behind Soarin and made more cawing noises. It almost sounded like laughter. “His name is Daylight. I overheard Dr. Horse getting upset about him when he came in.” The dragon seemed fine with communicating with Soarin even though it was obvious he didn’t like the Wonderbolt. Hoping that continuing a conversation would help ease the dragon’s feelings toward him, Soarin responded with the first thing to come to mind. “Dr. Horse is an interesting character.” “He is on a pretty short fuse tonight. He wasn’t supposed to be here, but the storm came in so fast that he didn’t have time to go home.” The dragon lifted one of his clawed hands to his chin and appeared to be thinking. “Same thing happened to me actually.” “Oh and why did you come to the hospital?” “Stomach ache, ate too much candy.” Suddenly, Soarin felt something heavy land on his back. Before he could deduce what it was he felt a sharp tug on his mane. “OW!” The dragon was laughing; Soarin didn’t see what was so funny. Twisting his head, he saw that the raven was the culprit in his plight. Apparently the black animal didn’t approve of the condition that Soarin’s, now dry, mane was in. It had started preening it. “OW!” He started wiggling and briefly debated about trying to buck the bird off. Thinking of the talons the bird bore, he decided that he would rather not have them clamp down on his back. Instead he increased his futile squirming. “Looks like the nurses have some competition.” Spike had a full-blown smile on his face, almost as if somepony had smashed a water balloon filled with joy on it. The dragon’s voice caused Soarin to stop his struggling. He quickly noticed that once he stopped moving the bird’s work had become more pliable. “You heard that?” There was a tint of apprehension in his voice. “Everyone heard that, the saddle was pretty girly you know. I wouldn’t be caught dead in something like that.” Not deeming the comment worthy of a response, Soarin kept his mouth shut. He really was not in the mood to be dealing with his apparent feminism. The bird was still yanking his mane, and causing the Wonderbolt to wince every few minutes. Bored, Soarin decided to try and continue the conversation. “You know I never did get your name. It would be nice to call you something other than little purple dragon.” “I’m not little.” “My apologies, all mighty one,” Soarin said without a hint of sarcasm. “Better. The names Spike though.” He held out his clawed hand. Soarin answered with his front hoof. “Soarin” They shock appendages. “Ya, the Wonderbolt. Dash talks about you all the time.” Spike seemed only partially impressed with this. “Dash?” The name was really familiar. Maybe it was the same pony that the filly had been talking about earlier? “Rainbow Dash, a good friend of mine. She really looks up to you guys so you better not disappoint her, you hear me?” Most dragons are possessive animals. Some like to collect hordes of treasure, or control vast amounts of territory. Apparently, Spike’s calling was to collect groups of friends. When dragons felt that their valuables were threatened they could act quite illogical. Since Soarin didn’t know this dragon very well, he decided that it was best to simply change the topic. Try and steer it away from dangerous winds. “So you had a stomach ache? The hospital seems slightly overkill.” The purple dragon rolled his eyes. “That’s what I said, but Twilight didn’t listen to me, she is such a worrier sometimes.” “Twilight?” “Twilight Sparkle, the personal student of Princess Celestial. I’m her number one assistant.” Soarin knew that the name had sounded familiar. “The element of magic?” “…How did you know that?” Spikes voice was slightly strained and troubled. Soarin deduced that the unicorn must not tell many ponies about her status. Seemed slightly weird to him personally, since most ponies knew she defeated Nightmare Moon and Discord. “The Wonderbolts are a high end military organization. We were informed of the elements of harmony during Nightmare Moon’s return.” “The Wonderbolts are part of the military?” An astonished look passed over his face. “I just thought they were a group of professional stunt fliers…” “Nope, we do the shows to try and keep into shape during down periods. It also helps create some revenue, since military funding in Equestria is not the easiest thing to come by.” The dragon still wore a stunned expression. “Don’t think about it too much, it’s a common mistake.” “Oh…” “In fact I believe a squad came near here fairly recently. Some dragon attack or something. I didn’t hear about it till after the fact but Spitfire was pissed about their apparent failure. Said they were a total embarrassment to the organization. You know anything about that?” Spike had gone really pale, and replied in a shaking voice, “No, nope didn’t know anything like that happened.” He started teething his claws in a bout of nervousness. “And if it really did happen, I was in no way a part of it.” Soarin wasn’t sure what was making the dragon uncomfortable, but he amused himself with the idea that this little guy is what gave his comrades so much trouble. Spitfire had droned on repeatedly about how the event was an example of getting overconfident and doing something stupid. Soarin had paid little attention. A period of tedious silence followed. Nothing could be really heard save for the tic and tock of the clock. Bored and looking for something to pass the time, Soarin asked the dragon, “So I’m wondering…if Ms. Sparkle worries so much, why did she leave you here?” “Twilight can get so wrapped up in her studying that she completely omits everything else that happens around her. I wouldn’t be surprised if she didn’t know there was a blizzard outside.” “…Seems a bit extreme.” “It is a extreme, although it’s been much worse as of late. Something has her spooked. She got this letter from Princess Luna not too long ago, which in itself is kinda surprising. But ever since then…” He suddenly paused, “I don’t know why I’m telling you this. I don’t even know you.” “I’ve been told I’m easy to talk to. Its all cool though, you don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to.” The raven had stopped molesting Soarin’s mane but was still perched on his back. It was a big bird, but as long as it didn’t fidget much or attack him he was fine with it staying there. As he watched Spike, Soarin felt the bird’s talons moving on his back; it seemed to be turning around. “Ever since the letter she has been hiding away more and keeping secrets.” The dragon’s voice held strange conviction, as though happy to get something off his chest. “She is getting really anxious about something and I have no idea what it is. Normally, when something like this happens she freaks out, does something stupid and it’s over. This time feels different; I just don’t know what to do to help her.” Soarin had never met Twilight Sparkle before. He had seen her in Canterlot before, but did not really know much about the unicorn mare. He wasn’t exactly sure the best way for Spike to deal with his apparent problem. It was possible that there wasn’t even an issue. Sometimes children have a way of over exaggerating nothing. Unfortunately for Soarin, he felt a sharp tug at his tail. It seemed that the raven was dissatisfied with its state as well. Soarin said, quite brashly, “Oh no you don’t, the mane was more than enough. My tail is going way too far.” He quickly stood up, causing the squawking bird to fall off his back and ruffle its feathers in annoyance. Soarin, hoping to escape, leaped off the cough only to screech in pain a moment later. The bird wasn’t taking no for an answer and had grabbed some of Soarin’s tail in his beak when the pegasus jumped off the couch. Feeling a few of his tail hairs ripped from his hindquarters Soarin promptly lost control of his jump. Instinctively, he spread his wings, but unfortunately, was too late as he crashed hard onto the table in front of him. Soarin felt the table snap beneath him and the dozens of magazines that were on it got launched into the air. Shaking his head, he tried to clear his dazed mind and ringing ears. As they cleared Soarin saw that Spike was rolling around the floor laughing inexplicitly hard. Spike was clutching his sides and tears were running down the smile on his face. Quickly thinking, Soarin had the perfect idea for a retort. A cricked grin grew on his face as he prepared to pounce on the rambunctious winged lizard…only to be smacked in the head by one of the airborne magazines. The volume of the laughing increased quite noticeably. Distracted by the violating object, Soarin noticed that it had fallen on a page with a very disturbing picture of himself. It also had a headline that made Soarin go extremely red in the checks. Quickly shutting the text, he thought of the only pony who could have leaked that story. It had to have been Him. Well there would be time to worry about that later, but Soarin would make sure he got his revenge. Spike was still caught in a recalcitrant laughing spree and Daylight had apparently flown back to the other side of the room again. He had a few long navy blue strands of hair in his beak. Eyes widening in horror, Soarin hastily examined his tail for damage control. Luckily, it appeared that the flying menace had only gotten a miniscule amount of his tail in its beak and thus any damage was mostly unnoticeable. However, his honor was at stake and Soarin was not about to lose to a bird. Quickly diving behind the couch so the bird could not see his plans, Soarin began to devise a way to get back at the winged monstrosity. “If you two are done with your asinine and destructive actions I have an update.” Oh nuts, my plans will have to wait. Popping his head up above the couch Soarin confirmed his suspicion that the voice belonged to Nurse Redheart. Spike had finally managed to gain control of his laughing and was now listening intently. “We have narrowed it down to a few possible diseases and viruses that could be hampering young Scootaloo.” “Wait. I thought a disease and a virus were the same thing?” Spike said with confusion. “Nope, but both can be quite disastrous for the body,” Redheart replied. “We need to run some more tests to get more conclusive results. When we do so we will let you know. Now…” her face blossomed into a smile, “…the good news is that her frostbite was, miraculously, not that bad. Mostly degree one with only some degree two, which means there will be absolutely no permanent damage. Although, there may be some scaring and it’s likely that her fur will fall out of her hooves while it heals. Even so, with how long she was outside it’s amazing that she is in as good shape as she is. I believe we have you to thank for that Soarin.” She said nodding toward the Wonderbolt. “I didn’t really do anything special.” Soarin couldn’t understand why ponies didn’t get that he simply did what had to be done. Anypony in my situation would have tried to do the same… right? The mare laughed, “Your humbleness is awe-inspiring. You definitely saved Scootaloo’s life and should be proud of it. Her hypothermia is also improving. Her body temperature had dropped to around ninety percent of what it should be, which in itself was concerning, but she is currently doing much better and her core temperature is on the rise." Redheart paused to take a drink from a nearby cup of water. “It will still be sometime before we conclude the tests. I would ask you to get some rest but I doubt that would happen.” She snorted in distain. “So instead I will simply ask if you are hungry.” Soarin didn’t even need to respond. His covetous expression explained all. “I’ll be back with some food then.” Redheart had brought the food, some apples and blueberry muffins, before quickly excusing herself. Soarin had dove in and noticed that the apples were once again scrumptious and magnificent. What was it with this place and apples? Not that he was really complaining, he liked apples, but then again he couldn’t think of many things he didn’t like. “Man you really eat a lot.” Spike was watching him. His mouth was wide open and he was wearing an astonished expression. “Hmm? Most pegasus eat a lot, it really helps with flying. Some prefer to sleep all the time but with Spitfire as my captain that’s not going to happen. Besides food tastes so good it seems like a waste to let it go uneaten.” The dragon seemed to contemplate his words. “I prefer gems. Rubies are pretty good, and I love diamonds…” A glossy love struck expression appeared on Spikes face. Soarin nodded in agreement; he knew what it was like to love food. “Every time I eat diamonds I see the most beautiful creature in all of Equestria and I can’t help but wonder why I didn’t save them for her. Lady Rarity is finer than any jewel and I would give up anything for her.” Spike suddenly gasped and a look of horror crossed over his eyes. “What if Lady Rarity is stuck out in the storm and I need to save her. She could be all alone and cold and afraid and waiting for me to come save her!” The dragon was looking around franticly as though his beloved was in the room with him. Daylight was watching Spike with a look of disbelief. Soarin couldn’t help but agree with the monster, he definitely was in no mood to go running around the storm trying to save another child. “I’m sure that Lady Rarity is safe, she must also be intelligent in order to catch your trained eye.” Soarin hoped that playing to the young dragon’s ego would get him to settle down. Spikes eyes narrowed dangerously, “Scootaloo isn’t stupid and she was out in the storm.” Well that didn’t work, Spike 1, me 0. Unsure of how to respond Soarin just sat there with a confounded frown. Luckily, it appeared that the dragon was in deep thought, “Although she is pretty brash and sometimes does things without thinking…” “Lady Rarity wouldn’t want you to get hurt doing something stupid.” “Saving her would not be stupid.” Spike argued furiously. “Only if she needed saving.” The dragon didn’t respond but was no longer fidgeting and making movements toward the door. Soarin wasn’t sure if it was his words or Spikes own logic that had convinced him. In the end, Soarin realized he didn’t care, as long as it meant that he didn’t have go chasing his scaly butt through the blizzard. Silence descended on the group. The only sounds that could really be heard were, once again, the tics and tocs of the clock. The fire had started to die so Soarin decided to add more fuel to the flame. Walking over to the fireplace he let his mind wonder. The name Rarity seemed familiar. Soarin rattled his brains and after a few moments he – surprisingly, given his memory – had his answer. Ah ha! That’s right, Rarity is the element of generosity. Soarin had never seen a picture of the pony before so he didn’t have much more information. He believed that she was a unicorn but wasn’t completely sure. “So Lady Rarity is a unicorn right?” Soarin asked the other occupant of the room. He quickly added some timber to the flame and stood up. “Ya, what else would she be?” “I’ve heard of her before but don’t really know much about her.” Soarin started to pace around the room to try and work out some of the soreness he had from his crash into the table earlier. The dragon went into a full-blown explanation of how amazing the unicorn mare was. Soarin paid attention and learned a bit, she was a white unicorn with a purple mane that ran a boutique. However, he was quickly distracted when Daylight flew from his perch to the top of the clock. The bird started cawing, ruffling its feathers and making a lot of noise. Its gray eyes were swirling with intelligence and color – their vividness helping bring the seriousness of the current situation back to light. And they were staring right into Soarin’s own – feeling as if they reached to the very depths of his being. The situation was unusual and immediately put Soarin at edge. Spike, on the other hoof, was ignorant of the tense atmosphere and was going on about how he saved his Lady from the hands of diamond dogs. Soarin could not shake the feeling that the bird was trying to communicate. It was almost like Daylight was trying to symbolize that they were running out of time or something, but Soarin had no idea why the bird would think that. Suddenly, the sounds of hooves could be heard approaching the lobby. Spike snapped out of his reverie and looked around. After a few moments Soarin saw that Dr. Horse and Nurse Redheart were approaching them. The nurse had a morose and distraught expression that made Soarin immediately tense up, even more so than the bird’s strange behavior had. Upon reaching them the doctor immediately launched into conversation. Soarin got the feeling he wanted to get it over with. “So we have deduced what ails the young Scootaloo. It seems that well…she is going to die.” The entire world seemed to stop. Even the tics of the clock were nonexistent. “Doctor! A bit more subtly would be good!” Redheart barked out, face scrunched in annoyance, yet soft from sorrow. With a large sigh the doctor continued, “I guess. Scootaloo has what is known as haydrocephalus, which is a terminal disease that attacks the brain, causing the recipient to go slowly insane and eventually die. Generally, the disease is recessive unless something triggers it. This is usually some extreme or unusual event. Think of the disease like a spider, it waits in hiding before striking out when its prey is weak. Historically, it was often triggered due to silicate mineral mining, where asbestos poisoning would cause it to appear. However, that does not mean it has to be exactly this. There have been reports of it appearing simply through mental problems such as depression. It seems that young Scootaloo’s trigger was the hypothermia that she obtained today.” “So what’s going to happen to her?” It was Spike that asked the question. The timidness and fright in his voice felt like ice cold daggers through Soarin’s heart. “She will slowly lose her mind, when the diseases awakens it literally eats the brain. There is no cure, she will die.” Dr. Horse said emotionlessly. “How long does she have?” Spike asked again, tears appearing in the corners of his eyes. “Depends on which part of the brain it attacks first. She could remain coherent for as long as a year, and live in a coma for as long as a decade.” Spike didn’t ask any more questions, but Soarin could hear and see him starting to sob uncontrollably. Admitting, Soarin didn’t know a lot about diseases but this seemed a bit strange for what he did know. “I’m confused, where does this disease come from?” “It’s not really a disease, it’s a bit more complicated than that but for simplicities sake they act similar.” Soarin continued, “How did Scootaloo get it?” “Unfortunately, while dormant it is nearly impossible to detect, but it has been determined that it is passed on hereditarily. However, it can also skip as many as five generations.” “That’s it. There is no other way to get it?” A sudden terrified thought arose in Soarin’s brain. “I gave that filly C.P.R. How do you know I don’t have it?” A slight smile grew on the doctor’s face. “I don’t think you have to worry about that…” Soarin was starting to freak out a little bit. “How can you be so sure? You said yourself that it can’t be detected when it’s not active.” “There is only one known way, other than heritance, through which the disease can pass. And unless you were doing something I hope you weren’t, you don’t have to be worried about it.” Nurse Redheart sighed behind Soarin and answered, “It can be passed sexually Soarin.” “…Oh” There was a very awkward silence. Spike seemed to be staring but seeing nothing, tears cascading down the side of his muzzle. Redheart also seemed unhinged. Dr. Horse tried hard to conceal any sort of emotion but Soarin could see through his mask, he was upset too. Soarin, no stranger to death, spoke with strength in his voice, “So there is nothing that can be done?” Dr. Horse immediately responded, “No, nothing…” Soarin snorted loudly and with distain. There is always something that can be done. “That’s bucking stupid. I refuse to believe that. I didn’t come so far only to be told that it can’t be done. What the hay is wrong with you!” The doctor seemed unfazed by his outburst. “You don’t understand it’s not curable. It’s a terminal disease. Every patient that has ever had it has died. It’s simply not possible.” The words woke a memory in Soarin’s mind, one he would never forget. “It’s not possible Soarin.” “Huh what do you mean?” Soarin was talking with Skyflare, Spitfire’s younger sister, after one of the squad’s award ceremonies. He had always connected well with Skyflare, she was born into an extremely well known family of fliers but due to a bone problem was unable to fly. The structure they currently inhabited was located in Cloudsdale and was created, like most structures in the sky, out of clouds. It was owned by Spitfire’s family and was quite an impressive sight. Both Soarin and Skyflare were in one of the back rooms which, while beautiful, was rarely used. The room also contained a balcony and was an elevation of a few thousand winglengths above the ground. “There is nothing you can do to help me, but you’re sweet for trying.” She blew Soarin a kiss from across the room. “Are you sure? What are you doing out here anyway? What happened to being afraid of heights?” Skyflare was currently standing on the balcony, perched like a bird, contemplation lost deep in her orange eyes. Due to her acrophobia, Skyflare would normally be shivering, like she was frozen to the core with fear, when confronted with heights. Now however, she was standing one step away from sudden oblivion and yet was calmer than a tranquil summer breeze. “It’s true that I am afraid of heights,” she didn’t even turn to face the stallion as she spoke, “but that doesn’t matter anymore.” “Huh, why not?” was Soarin’s intellectual replay. “Look, go see sis. I’m sure she is wondering where you are. After all the award was given to the whole squad, not just her.” Her voice was droning and dry. “Are you sure you’re okay? You’re acting really…weird.” Skyflare and Spitfire had never really gotten along. Their parents had always given more attention to their famous and talented daughter rather than their grounded one. In response, Skyflare was usually rambunctious and enthusiastic to try and get as much attention as possible. To see her down and sad like this was…unheard of. “I believe I already answered that.” She was also never cheeky. “But Spitfire told me to stay around and watch out for you. She was worried about something.” Soarin initially had no idea what Spitfire was worried about, but by Skyflare’s demeanor and actions he was starting to get an idea. “Oh and of course her opinion is more valuable than mine. Who cares what the crippled pegasus thinks and cares about.” The female’s voice was quickly turning hostile and before Soarin knew it she was shouting, “IT’S NOT ALL ABOUT HER, I HAVE FEELINGS TOO YOU KNOW! JUST LEAVE ME ALONE” “But…”He had no idea what to do or say. With the way she was acting, leaving her alone wouldn’t be smart, but he also didn’t want to anger Skyflare. “Please… I really want to be alone right now.” Now she was crying. Soarin had never been good with emotional stuff. He was now at even more of a loss than before. “Just please tell sis it was an accident.” “Look, Sky, you’re starting to freak me out a bit. Why don’t you just step down from the balcony?” Soarin was slowly approaching the mare, trying to keep his voice level and calm, “Please? Don’t do anything stupid…” Skyflare still didn’t move, nor look at the esteemed flier. Her only movements were the continued shivering of her shoulders as she sobbed quietly. Carefully, Soarin managed to make his way to the mare and reached out to grasp her. Upon contact the pegasus flinched, and for a fleeting moment the Wonderbolt thought she was going to fall. And while she did indeed fall, luckily, it was toward the stallion instead of the open sky. Now with Soarin supporting her, the sobbing mare turned and cried into Soarins mane. “No pony will every care what I do. I’m nothing, sis…Spitfire can do anything better.” Her voice was over saturated with tears and Soarin had trouble making out the words. He led the upset and weeping pony toward a comfortable chair. Treating her more carefully than a flower, Soarin helped the mare settle down on the soft surface. Taking a deep breath Soarin opened his mouth to try and comfort her, but was interrupted by a loud shrill shout. “SOARIN, SPITFIRE NEEDS TO SEE YOU AND SHE IS RAVING PISSED!” A frown appeared on Soarin’s face. He wanted to stay with Skyflare as leaving her in this state would be foolish. But Spitfire could get really impatient. Maybe if he galloped, he could get back in time before she realized he was gone? “SPITFIRE IS ANGRIER THAN SHE WAS LAST YEAR! YOU BETTER NOT IGNORE HER!” Crap… If she was angrier now than last year, when Soarin almost blew up the house, this had to be extremely serious. Examining Skyflare, who currently had her head in her hooves and was bawling uncontrollably, Soarin doubted that she would be getting up anytime soon. Making a quick decision, Soarin told Skyfare, “Stay here, I’ll be back in one second, okay?” Not waiting for a reply Soarin opened his wings and flew toward the door and threw it open. Flying through the hallway he only focused on increasing his speed. He was not sure where the fiery captain was but he figured once he got close all he had to do was follow her yells. After a turning a corner Soarin heard her voice, “HOW IS THAT EVEN REMOTELY FUNNY?” Yup, while it was still somewhat quiet, he would have no problem following it. It was like trying to trail a pony with a microphone, not even remotely difficult. “IF YOU DON’T TELL ME, I WILL BE THE ONLY ONE HAVING FUN HERE!” The voice was getting louder and not in a good way. Soarin had no idea what Spitfire was angry about, but by her tone and his instincts shouting out at him, he knew he should be flying away, not toward the infuriated mare. Instead, he forced himself to increase his speed. Turning the corner the enraged pegasus came into view, her mane and tail frazzled with intensity. “I REALLY DOUBT SOARIN HAD ANYTHING TO DO WITH THIS AS HE IS WHAT DOING WHAT I ASKED HIM NOT LOLLYGAGGING LIKE A FOAL!” She was yelling at Surprise, who was sheepishly cowing from the bellowing and spitting Captain. Fanning his wings out to slow his flight, he came to a stop right as Spitfire turned and glared at whoever dared interrupt her tirade. Her glare quickly turned to surprise then disbelief. “SOARIN! WHAT THE BUCK ARE YOU DOING HERE? I TOLD YOU TO STAY WITH MY SISTER, SHE’S UNSTABLE RIGHT NOW!” “Huh? But I heard you were looking for me…” The orange pegasus’s eyes narrowed in contemplation before speaking, in a much more subdued, but no less threatening, voice, “What? I never asked to see you…” It was then that they heard a whisper on the wind, obviously muted by distance. All conversation stopped and it took them a minute to comprehend the shrill sound. When they did, all eyes widened in horror. Somepony was screaming… Shaking his head to clear the painful memory, Soarin saw that Dr. Horse was starting to walk away. And he was not walking in the direction of Scootaloo’s room. Soarin felt anger build up in his system. In times like this Soarin couldn’t help but remember something one of his old instructors had told him. It was simple in meaning, yet infinite in application. When in trouble, inactivity will get somepony killed just as easily as a spear or sword will. Before Soarin even recognized what he was doing, he was shouting, “WHERE DO YOU THINK YOU’RE GOING? His outburst caused Dr. Horse to pause and turn before answering. “We have already been over this. There is nothing that can be done.” His voice was resigned and distant. Soarin quickly broke into maniacal laughing, slightly mincing his words. “So you mean to tell me that you are simply giving up? That you are not going to at least try something? ANYTHING?” Soarin’s voice was rising toward its climax, “NO, INSTEAD YOU ARE GOING TO DO NOTHING BECAUSE SOMEPONY SAID THAT IT CAN’T BE DONE. WELL BUCK THAT! JUST BECAUSE THEY COULDN’T DO IT DOESN’T MEAN THAT YOU CAN’T!” Catching his breath, Soarin continued at a more subdued pace, “Let me spell it out for you. You. Are. A. Doctor. It is your job to try and help ponies. So do your job already!” “It’s never been done before. Everypony who has had the disease has died.” Dr. Horse’s voice had lost his sarcastic edge and was quickly becoming erratic and fearful under the wrathful rage of the Wonderbolt. Unfortunately, fear was not what Soarin was going for, so he quickly changed his approach. “Do you remember when you were a kid?” Soarin’s voice was much quieter, a reminiscent aura caught around his words. “The dreams and goals you had? The smiles of your parents when you made them proud? Well, right now there is a filly in that room and she has her own hopes, desires and dreams. If you don’t do anything, she is never going to reach them. She will never even have the opportunity to reach them. He heard Nurse Redheart sniffle behind him, and he could see in Dr. Horse eyes that his words were having an effect. His blue eyes were no longer vibrant and clear like the summer sky, but were blurring like a morning fog. “Right now she is lying in that room, in pain, terrified and alone. And you can say with a straight face that you wouldn’t want to try and help her? That it doesn’t bother you, even slightly, what is happening? No one will hold it against you if you don’t succeed, but if you don’t even try in the first place…” Soarin paused and shook his head back and forth. “How can you even think that?” The doctor answered hesitantly. “I wouldn’t even know where to begin.” The lament voice of nurse Redheart broke through her crying, “There is always that spell…” It was difficult to make out her words, but Soarin managed to. He was about to question further when Dr. Horse beat him to it. “That’s purely hypothetical, it would never work” Curiosity further piqued Soarin asked, “What spell?” The doctor turned toward him and said, “Well there is a spell that can supposedly remove the disease if it is caught quickly after the trigger. It has never been cast successfully and takes a ridiculous amount of magic power to attempt. I know I can’t do it. Other than the alicorn princesses I doubt anypony has the power to perform it. The longer the disease is active the harder it gets too. Even if the spell did work, there would still be brain damage.” That just sounded like a long-winded excuse to Soarin. “So you really aren’t even going to try… Someponies life is on the line and you are just going to stand there and go, oh sorry I can’t do it. No point in trying.” He turned away from Dr. Horse with a disappointed sigh and muttered out, to no one in particular, “I can’t believe you…” It seemed that Soarin’s words had finally reached the doctor. Dr. Horse’s ears were drooping and he looked ashamed. However, instead of motivating him, Soarin had merely destroyed any confidence he had. Once again silence descended on the group. The tension was so thick it could be cut with a knife. Soarin had been to more joyous funerals before. It was obvious that the nurse and doctor thought the filly was already dead and the thought was seriously starting to infuriate him. He was about to let more of his opinions known when a sound broke the doleful silence. “He doesn’t have to try…” Spike’s voice was quiet and laced with pain, but there was a rising shadow of hope as well. “Oh and how many other unicorns do you see around here? There is no one else who can try.” In a normal situation Soarin would not have been so sharp to the child, but he was stressed and annoyed. And the memory of that night put him on edge. The dragon didn’t seem fazed and with rising confidence in his voice spoke out, “He said he doesn’t have the power to do it. We need somepony with more magical power and I know exactly who would work.” The dragon turned and looked Soarin straight in the eye. “Soarin you up for a flight through the snow?” “Why?” He was legitimately confused, what does flying have to do with anything right now? Spike answered rapid fire, “Because we need you to go fetch somepony. We need the most powerful unicorn there is around. We need Twilight Sparkle. And we need her fast.”