The day was slowly coming to an end. Twilight was sitting in the corner of the room, tired from re-reading her medicine books several times. From time to time, Dostoyevsky and Hansen were bringing in a patient to examine. Now, she was waiting for the next patient to come, fighting with her own thoughts.
This was a different world, she was sure of it. It was still called Equestria, but something was definitely... odd about this place. It wasn't the weather anomalies, nor was it the lepra epidemic itself. It was something with the mindset of the ponies themselves. It was... It was like if they were so distant, so aloof when it came to their own lives. They had the power to ignore things; things, that ponies in Equestria usually couldn’t stand.
Worst of all, she was sure that with every passing minute she was here, she too was becoming distant. The first leper was a shock, the second -a terrifying pony. The third was an incredible case, and the fourth one was just a slight anomaly.
"Though the worst part for me is the knowledge that they... that they all are basically dead. They’re still walking, still thinking, but in fact they don’t exist anymore."
Hansen’s words were still echoing in her mind. As much as she wanted to deny that, these words were true. She felt horribly weak, she couldn’t find the strength to get up on her hooves again.
“Miss? Are you alright?” Dostoyevsky asked when he spotted Twilight's grim expression.
“Not so right, I guess.” she answered.
“Do not fear to say if there is something wrong. Forgive my rudeness, but is it somehow involved with leprosy?” the old pegasus asked.
“Not exactly... can I ask you a question?”
“You already did that, Miss.”
“Can I ask you three questions?” Twilight asked, thankfully knowing about this joke.
“Confirmativum.”
“How can you be so emotionless in face of such terrible things?”
Dostoyevsky didn’t answer for a while. She was about to repeat her question, but the pegasus was faster.
“You chose quite a magnus word, Miss. Emotionless. But I think you are misunderstanding the meaning of the term. Are emotions what can be shown by gestures, grimaces, trembling or blushing? Or maybe they are hidden in our minds?”
“I think I can understand your point of prospectus. It’s a terrible situation, but please do not consider us as soulless. It’s about having...a mask. The truth about our lives is that we are wearing masks. A sergeant is giving an encouraging oratio to his legiones, wearing a face of a heros, while behind the mask he is scared to death. Sometimes it goes conversely, I knew a lot of ponies that were shy or weak, but in a situation of grave danger they shown a spiritus of courage.”
“In conclusion, I want to invite you to a play. We have roles to play, masks to wear, scripts to follow, so let the show begin. Life is a theatre, the only difference is that not always are the viewers in sight. However, you need to remember, Miss, that the actors have their own faces behind their masks. In truth, I’m maybe even more terrified about the lepra than you, the only differentia is that your role is more naturalis, because you don’t play the role, you live it. It’s something I can vere admire, the fact you don’t need to play.”
Twilight was slowly ruminating his words, slightly lowering her head.
“So, it’s only about the mask thing?”
“Indeed. I’m not a very good actor, but wearing the mask of a calm noble is easy to me. Would you wear a mask for me, Miss?” Dostoyevsky asked, smiling encouragingly.
Twilight chuckled in response and nodded.
“Confirmativum.”
The patient was sitting in a chair in front of the three "doctors". Half of her face was contorted in a terrible grimace.
“There's an insolitum symptom." said Dostoyevsky. “Due to the infection of the nerve tissue, the right facial nerve has been damaged, leaving that side paralyticus”.
Twilight put on the gloves, then she soaked her hooves in a bowl filled with a carbolic acid solution, and then carefully touched the patient's head.
"Indeed." she said. "I’ve read that similar incidents have occurred in Saddle Arabia.”
"And what did the local doctors recommend in terms of treatment?" Hansen asked curiously.
“Well, doctors there are few in numbers, and they don't have a very good reputation. From what I’ve read, about fifty years ago, the ponies came to the conclusion that it was the doctors who were spreading the plague. A famous physician was barely alive when he was reportedly pulled out of a well. However, witch doctors retained their popularity, and they generally used two methods. Medieval, by burying them in sacred ground, in the hope that it will draw out the disease.”
"What terrible crudelitatique." Dostoyevsky muttered.
"Let's not forget who claimed that leprosy is a hereditary disease." Hansen grinned teasingly.
The old pony looked abashed at that.
“The second method, more modern, was to put the ill pony in a barrel filled with boiling water for a few hours. Witch doctors then were marking the barrel with occultic symbols...”
"And it was helping?” Hansen asked with a flare in his eye.
“Actually it did, though the effects were short-termed.”
“It’s easy to explain. According to our researches, the leprae bacteria die in a temperature slightly higher than that of pony tissue. If the temperature was well chosen, a lot of bacteria could die, while the pony’s organism could still survive. Of course, not all bacteria would die, so after some time the disease would come back. Maybe, if we could warm the pony body as a whole to the appropriate temperature...” Hansen hoped.
“What should we do in this situation?” Twilight asked, pointing at the patient, who was sitting on her chair for the whole time, not moving an inch.
“In theoria, we could make an incisione here...” Dostoyevsky pointed with a pencil to a spot on the ill pony’s face. “After cutting both of the affected nerves, the face appearance would revert back to an almost original look. But this would be worthless, because this action would cause bilateral paralisis”.
Twilight nodded absently, her eyes lingering on the collection of bottles with carbolic acid. “It’s the first time I see one of the newest inventions in the field of medcine used on such a scale.”
Hansen nodded.
“The theories of doctor Lister were truthful indeed. Spraying the carbolic acid around the operating field drastically cuts the likelihood of complications.”
He dismissed the patient. After a moment, the next pony came in. The unicorn mare’s nose was partially collapsed, which gave her an incredibly terrifying appearance. The lepra stuck also the edge of her hooves. To Twilight’s relief, her horn was untouched. Hansen said something in a language Twilight didn’t know, and the ill pony extended her hooves. The unicorn doctor took a needle framed in wood, then he began carefully puncturing the edge of her limbs.
“Dammit.” he cursed. “The restorative treatment doesn’t give any results.”
“What did you use?” Twilight asked, pulling a notebook from her saddlebag.
“A quinine-arsenic mixing. Probably, the leprosy bacteria was affected for a time and was forced into regression, but now it seems it adapted to the new conditions. The wounds are beginning to open again.”
Twilight spotted a patch of unusually looking tissue. Some parts of the leper’s hoof was decomposed, showing something that looked like bone. However, it had a liquid-like consistence rather than a solid one, resembling a blob of pus streight out of a wound.
“Osteolysis?” the lavender mare asked.
“Indeed, osteolysis. The phalanges are crumbling to pieces. The normalis tissue is replaced with some genus of cartilage... it looks like this.” Dostoyevsky took a glass box from the drawer. Inside, there were several specimins with hoof bones.
“Maybe we could counteract the lack of calcium?” Twilight proposed. “The mixtures can be given orally.”
“Could you prepare them?” Hansen’s voice was filled with curiosity.
“Of course.” Twilight confirmed. ‘Being a bookworm has it advantages.’ she added in her thoughts.
“In that case, we will give you free reign in our laboratory.” Hansen stated with a nod.
“You should find him and kill him.” the leper said suddenly. “I’m already dead, but you must get him...”
And with that she left the room.
“Actually, I have question. Why not use magic to heal ponies? I mean... seriously, there are no spells for that?” Twilight asked.
“There are. Problem is... well, it’s complicated.” Hansen spoke. “In a theory, we could use magic to destroy the leprosy bacteria. Problem is, that to do that we need to “see” them. Magic is not a precise thing, and instead of healing, we could turn some organ into liquid. In the history of medicine, there were several situations when magic could actually help, but most of the time healing with magic is even more dangerous than leaving the ill pony alone. It’s just impossible to predict what would happen.
“When I was fighting under the ducatus of hetman Zamoysky as a hussar, we got a soldier with a damaged liver. He was close to death, so we brought the unicorn medicus to heal him. Well, he actually managed to treat his liver, but at the same time his heart was turned into only Celestia knows what, and in effect he died.” Dostoyevsky added. “More ponies died from diseases, than from the ungulis of the enemy.” he murmured.
“So in conclusion, no magic?” Twilight said
“Confirmativum.” the pegasus nodded.
“Who do they want to kill?” Twilight asked, with curiosity written on her face. It was something she was meaning to ask for some time now. “Somebody is infecting them on purpose? I thought it’s impossible.”
Armauer smiled slightly.
“It’s only a legend, and a idiotic one at that. There is nothing to talk about.”
However, Twilight spotted that Dostoyevsky actually wanted to say something about this, but an eloquent glare from Hansen effectively prevented him from doing that.
“We can’t be one hundred percent sure how the leprosy is spreading” Dostoyevsky said. “We suppose that bacteria are in the secretions of lepers, so the “purposely infecting” approach would be really difficilis, but actually possible. We can’t also deny the possibilitas, that the leprae bacteria can travel in drops of steam from the exhaled air of ill ponies. Still, we can’t find proof for that.”
Twilight felt an icy drop of sweat ran down her spine.
“I guess it’s time for some sleep.” Hansen yawned. “We examined most of the ponies already, tomorrow we’ll inspect in the city.”
Twilight nodded and after a farewell, each of them headed to their accommodations. Before going to sleep however, she washed her hooves properly. Gloves or no gloves, she wanted to be absolutely sure she did everything she could to avoid infection. While heading to her bed, she looked outside her window. This time she didn’t spot anypony outside. She was about to lie in her bed, but then she suddenly spotted something out of place. Despite the raging blizzard, there was a line of small, pony steps circling the building...