Somepony was washing his face. There was a sort of vague, detached awareness of this happening, an awareness shared with other sensations. Like the horrible monster hammering away at the back of his skull, on the inside where it could not be shooed away. Water deep down inside of his ear threatened to soak its way into his brain. When his ears twitched, he heard the faint sound of voices, which were barely audible over the susurrus roar of blood.
Peeling open an eye was either an act of courage or stupidity, only time would tell.
Light speared his retina, stung a bit, and caused his eye to squeeze shut. When the sting subsided, he tried again. Blurry blue sky and smooshed, smeared colours. He was outside; at least his senses suggested that he was outside. Somepony lifted his head; they were gentle, careful, and had claws. No, not somepony. He came to this realisation with slow certainty. Somedoggy, most likely. Corduroy was a gentle creature—but she could also hold his head in one paw.
"He's fine."
"Yeah, he's coming around."
"Whew… I thought he had a stroke. I thought I had a stroke!"
"It's not a stroke." There was more than a little annoyance in these words.
"Well, it's what I thought—"
"Well, you thought wrong." A pause. And then, in a far kinder tone: "I told you… he got too hot. When a pony gets hot, all the blood vessels in their head expand so they can cool off. In the ears and nose especially. More specifically, he was overheated because of what Megara did to him. And when the incident happened"—another pause, interrupted by a soft snort—"the increased pressure caused a bit of a nosebleed. I assure you, he's fine."
"Still scared me."
"Sundance, what do you remember?"
Squinting, he peered out from between his now parted eyelids so that he might have a better look at the indistinct, fuzzy blur that was Corduroy. What did he remember? That was a tricky question, because he didn't remember much of anything. After a moment, he recollected that he dreamt of his grandmother. No, not a dream. Something else. Something almost real. He remembered that he was thirsty and—
"Yeah, now you remember what you did!" Almost shrill with panic, Hornet's voice assaulted his ears and caused the hammering in the back of his skull to thud double-time. "Do you remember every owl for miles around suddenly all hooting all at once?"
"We had ourselves a hootenanny—"
"Oh, boo! Boo, Megara, that's—"
"Well, we did, Corduroy."
"Every 'ling from here to the new hivehome got a splitting headache, myself included. My ocular lenses just about detached themselves from the pressure. And then, because of the connection between our minds, I suddenly had a clear insight into what the owls were thinking, and it was almost as if I'd become an owl. I was all grumpy and upset about the obnoxious daylight, and worried, and a bit scared, all because the funny looking owl had a headache and wanted a drink. It made me want to hoot and fluff my feathers, but I couldn't, because I wasn't an owl, but then I became an owl involuntarily and then all of a sudden I had new owl perspectives and everything from an owl point of view made a lot more sense and—"
Corduroy made a gentle interruption, saying, "Hornet, don't be a ding-a-'ling."
"I rather liked being an owl," Hornet said, finishing her words. "There's a sort of righteous grumpiness that's very satisfying. You should try it some time, Corduroy."
"I can't."
"That's a shame." This was followed by: "Sundance, are you alright, Your Owlishness?"
"Oh… perfect. Just perfect. Something tells me that's going to stick." Corduroy's exasperated words were punctuated by a long-suffering sigh.
"Sundance?" Paradox's voice was stretched thin from worry and came from behind him. "Sundance, can you hear me?"
He grunted; was it enough?
"You've had a radical re-alignment, Sundance. I think this is how this happened. You're no longer drawing from terrestrial energy sources. The change… the reconstitution of your body… whatever it was that happened to both you and Hornet. You're drawing power from the sun now. You were out in the sun all morning… it's not like drawing magic from terrestrial sources, Sundance. There's only so much of that to go around and that's the common source for ponies and so many other species. Very few creatures draw from the sun. Mostly phoenixes and Princess Celestia. So there's a lot of it. Psychic energy and magic are two very different things, but they depend on one another. Kind of like how unicorn telekinesis is psychic energy but magic gives photons mass. It's complicated. But you've had a re-alignment. I wish I knew how to explain things better, but I still don't fully know what is going on."
Again, Sundance grunted.
"I probably should have paid more attention to you this morning, Sundance. I'm so sorry. I promise, I'll sort all of this out… for your sake. And not because I'm so eager to understand these secrets."
What he wanted to say was that everything was fine, but what came out was a dry croak.
"You two got him into this mess," Corduroy said. "So you two are going to care for him. Get him hydrated. See that he gets a good rubdown. I want to see Fluttershy before she goes, and have a chit-chat with her about Sparrowhawk. Maybe Fluttershy has some advice for dealing with mustang foals."
"Three of us." Almost a nasal whine, Paradox's voice sounded downright pained. "I'll fix the tea I failed to serve this morning. I've got a lot to do, but I can make the time to do what's needed."
"Maybe ice it," Corduroy suggested. "Anyhow, I'm going to leave him in your care."
"We've got this," Megara said. "Go have a chat with Fluttershy. We'll get Sundance sorted out."
Sundance wasn't set down upon the soft grass quite so much as he was poured. After Megara's 'rubdown', during which he discovered what bread dough felt like when pounded and kneaded, he wasn't entirely solid. Things had popped during said 'rubdown', things that, up to this point, he had been wholly unaware that they'd even existed. At one point, she had picked him up, gotten a good grip on him—touching him in places that he dared not mention—and then she turned him into an equine accordion. Squeezing him in such a fashion had caused air to come whooshing out—of both ends, no less.
Then, she'd grabbed him as if he were a towel, twisted him a bit, squeezed one end, wrapped her paw around him, and then slid it down his body as if she were trying to get him to shed his precious bodily fluids—which he very nearly did. Though he had no proof, Sundance was absolutely certain that his body had to be at least, at the very minimum, six inches longer. When he was certain that he could take no more of her tender ministrations, she began to fling him up and around over her head as though he were pizza dough.
The shade was delightful, but still a bit warm. A cooling mist wafted over from the waterfall, which had grown quite thin. What was once a roaring flood was now a steady trickle of blue-green water that held the redolent reek of really bad eggs. Why, this would almost be pleasant if he wasn't in so much pain. He thought of his father and felt ashamed. Just how did his father manage to do what he did for a whole shift and then walk home? Earth pony endurance?
"Iced tea it is," Paradox said as she drew nearer, bearing a sweating glass pitcher above her head. "With honey and lemon. It's pepperminty!"
"—so then, my hatch-mate, who'd spent almost a month trying to perfect the griffon form, tried to surprise me by showing up for tea as a pony. Then she had this attitude and acted like I'd never seen herbivore." Grinning an unnaturally wide grin, Hornet elbowed Megara in the ribs while also waggling her ears.
Wincing, Megara responded by saying, "Oh… oh, that's awful… just awful, Ladybug."
"Is this what friendship is?" asked Paradox with curious suddenness. "Everypony is acting as though everything is fine."
"But everything is fine," Megara replied.
"It's not. Not really." Pausing, Paradox let out a huff. "It feels like I had another Twilight Sparkle moment." She paused, huffed again, and shook her head. "It's so easy to get caught up in my studies. I was awful to Sundance, and then this happened. This is not fine."
"Actually…" Megara's head swivelled around and she turned her carnivorous grin on Sundance. "I'm surprised by how fast you're recovering. While I was somewhat disappointed that you fell apart so quickly… I had high hopes because you're obviously an endurance flier. So I thought you'd at least make it until noon. But your recovery gives me hope. Combat, Sundance, is all about who can swing the longest. As for you, Paradox"—again she turned her head, this time to look at the dejected, huffy-puffy unicorn—"mistakes will be made. Twilight made them. You will too. Learn from them."
Before Paradox could further berate herself, Sundance uttered a few scratchy words and said, "Flying defined me. It wasn't my talent, but I was good at it. But I didn't start out that way. Doing delivery work… as well as the whole medical courier thing… I had no choice but to become the best flier I could be if I wanted to survive my job. It… it, uh, well, delivery work kills ponies. That's why they're always looking for new hires. A pegasus gets tired, fails to take the wind into account, and goes to make a landing without paying attention to the wind. You come around the corner, catch a tail wind funneled through the urban canyons, and it pushes you right into a skyscraper window. Splat. Then the window washers have to scrub you off because you're bug-guts on the glass."
"Oh, that's horrible," Paradox said.
"It sure is," Hornet said, her head bobbing in agreement. "Bug-guts on glass. I don't like that, no."
"So endless hours of flying under heavy load." Reaching up, Megara rubbed her fuzzy chin with her paw. "That takes a lot out of a pony. So we need to get the rest of you as conditioned as your wings, which are probably Wonderbolt-grade perfection."
"That's flattering—"
"It's not flattery." Hard and flinty, Megara's voice had no trace of warmth or friendship. "It's an honest assessment of what I'm working with. If I flatter you, if I'm not one-hundred percent honest with you, I could get you killed. The rest of you"—she squinted at him—"is about as enduring as an overcooked noodle wrapped in wet tissue paper."
"That's less flattering," he said in response.
"How's that throwing leg of yours?" she asked.
To which he replied, "Feels like it's going to fall off."
In the distance, sunflowers swayed, as if listening to some Celestial hymn that only they could hear. It was almost hypnotic how they all moved as one, all while keeping their faces turned towards the sun. Sundance realised that like he himself, these flowers were connected to the sun—in a peculiar way that the other plants were not. How curious—how intriguing. Not wanting to spoil the moment, he said nothing about his new awareness, and wondered if Paradox might notice.
I noticed too.
In mute silence, he turned to look at Hornet.
Paradox's home, the old oak trunk, it too has similar magic.
There was now a new mystery. Why were these things different? Who had changed them? When? For what purpose? Was this why Grandmother Oak was still very much alive? She had given up the ghost; there could be no doubt about that, but then had some sort of curious rebirth. Now she had new sprouts, new branches, new leaves. The old withered wood had new life. The barony, he concluded, was a strange place, one full of mystery and curious discoveries waiting to be found.
He thought about what Paradox had said about re-alignment. When she'd mentioned it, he was a bit out of it. Later, when the time was right, he would need to ask her about it. But not now. There was no good pressing reason to ruin this moment, this perfect moment with his friends. Feeling more than a little cerebral for whatever reason, he tried to think back on his life and to find moments that compared to this one. While he could recall plenty of happy moments with his family, those magical moments when shifts and days off allowed a little time together, he could not recollect times like right now. His existence had been a lonely one. Reduced to bare survival, he tried to make his way through life with as little fuss as possible.
All things considered, he rather liked his newfound awareness. The change did not surprise him as much as it perhaps should have. His connection to the land and the crystal tree caused many little changes, so this just felt like the natural outcome. Ponies were magical creatures and adapted to their environment. This held true for magical environments, though Sundance knew that his understanding of this happened to be woefully inadequate. It was just an extension of his ability to communicate with the owls made stronger. No need for panic, worry, fear, or doubt, all those typical pony reactions to the unknown.
"Intense exercise can lead to altered states," Megara said, matter-of-factly.
"What makes you bring that up?" asked Paradox.
"Sundance looks a bit stoned," the manticoress replied, and then she chuckled.
"Does he?" Leaning a bit closer, Paradox studied him for a short time, pursed her lips into a thoughtful scowl, and then pulled away. "Funny… he doesn't look like he's been zapped by a cockatrice. He seems more fatigued than petrified."
Covering her muzzle with her paw, Megara groaned, snorted, groaned a second time, made a chortled sort of purr, and then came the smothered chuckle. Whatever the joke was, Paradox didn't get it, but she didn't seem distressed by it either. Distracted, Hornet watched the swaying sunflowers, just as Sundance had done moments before. As for Sundance himself, all of his attention focused when he saw a familiar yellow pegasus pony approaching.
A few kind words from Fluttershy would be a soothing balm.
Everywhere that the Element of Kindness went, serenity followed. Why, she barely even disturbed the grass with her passing, for such was her gentle disposition. Her expression was one of kind determination and considerate caution. For Sundance, to see her was to want to be like her, to emulate her in every way imaginable. Something about his current state brought out an almost worshipful reverence that flowed like springwater from the depths of his very soul. She was so light, so airy, so unburdened by the oppressive weight of callous existence.
One might have to walk upon the grass, but that did not mean that one had to do harm during one's passage. It seemed as though every movement, every step was made with deliberate consideration for how that single action affected others. Watching her, it almost seemed as though gravity relaxed its tyrannical hold upon her, because it too could not bear to cause her to bring harm to another. As she drew near, Sundance felt his aches and cramps subside in the most peculiar manner, and he warmed in some curious way that had nothing to do with the sun.
"Hello, Sundance."
"Hello again, Fluttershy."
"Megara, good to see you again. Are you behaving?"
"No."
A soft laugh; it was a mirthful sound considerate of the needs of others. Then came a sort of sadness. "I can't stay long. When I found out that Bourgogne Blintz and Parsnip Parfait were dispatched here, I came with them so that I might keep my promise to sweet little Tarantula." She inhaled, a faint sound that disturbed nothing. "He seems happy. I'm glad."
"Did Corduroy get a chance to speak to you?" asked Sundance.
"She did," the Element of Kindness replied. "Corduroy is already doing all of the right things, I think. Sparrowhawk is troubled, but Kindness will prevail. It cured Discord, so surely Sparrowhawk will come around with a little love and gentleness."
A wave of intense guilt washed over Sundance, because he'd bitten the troubled tot.
"You seem to be glowing, Sundance." Another sigh, this one softer and quieter than the previous. "A little advice, if I may?"
"I would gladly listen to any advice that you have to offer."
"You have a rare and precious circumstance here, Sundance." Wings fluttering against her sides, she paused and waited while a mischievous breeze tugged upon her mane and tail. "You live surrounded by nature. A vast unspoiled wilderness. While I know it can't last forever"—her own words troubled her and her expression darkened like a cloud passing before the sun for a brief second before returning to its glorious radiance—"it is still a cause for joy. You have a herd of youth growing up, surrounded by nature's majesty. They have an appreciation for it. You may have little budding naturalists just waiting to bloom."
Her lips quivered, her nostrils widened, she inhaled, and then she pressed her front right hoof to the scruffle just below her slender neck. "Did I just pun? I'm so sorry. I hope nopony was offended."
Staring with ferociously funny intensity at Hornet, Megara replied, "I'm sure we'll be fine."
"A changeling." Fluttershy did not seem the least bit surprised. "Changelings like puns because of the emotions they cause in others. A changeling I know learned that humour and making others laugh was a good way to inspire the emotions they needed to survive." A thoughtful demeanour overtook the gentle pegasus and a faint smile graced her face.
"I had something to do with you being here," she said. "One group was sent here, to the wilderness. Those of you hybridised with plants. I hope this land is good for you. Another group was sent to the Crystal Empire. The crystal changelings are in their infancy, but the results seem promising. Already they show signs of being infused with beneficial healing energies. Empress Cadance is pleased with the progress made."
"We take on characteristics of our environment," Hornet said to Fluttershy. "I'm Hornet, by the way."
"Pleased to meet you, Hornet. I'm Fluttershy."
"I did not know about the crystal changelings."
"Twilight says we cannot put all of our eggs into one basket, and she is right." Cautious as ever, Fluttershy moved closer to Hornet so that she might examine her. "You have the same glow as Sundance. How curious."
"We had a bit of an adventure together," the not-pegasus said to the actual-pegasus. "I'm his bodyguard."
"Oh… oh my. Integration. This is good. This will inspire trust. Adventures are good for trust-building."
"I hope so." Almost squirming, Hornet gave herself away because her reactions were not at all equine, at least to those who were competent observers.
"I'm so sorry, but I really must be going. I have other places that I must be." She extended one wing, waved, and gave a parting gift of a fine, gentle smile. "Be good to others. Be kind. Farewell, all of you. Thank you, Sundance, for doing right with Tarantula."
"I barely have anything to do with it," he replied. "That's Hollyhock's hard work. Goodbye, Fluttershy. Do come by again."
"Oh, I will. If I can. I have to go and pick up a special little foal that needs my special care. Be well, all of you. Goodbye."
After a somewhat clumsy takeoff, Fluttershy took to the air, and then departed.