//------------------------------// // S // Story: Sick Week // by CosmicAfro //------------------------------// The wall loomed over Twilight, its height alone stood above her by several stories and mocked her puny size. Its obsidian facing, etched with eerie luminescent dusk purple carvings made the young alicorn wary of its presence, but not afraid. She couldn’t help but stare further at it as light pulsed horizontally through the wall. What struck her as odd were the shapes that were cast when the symbols were lit. There was a layer of crystal in front of the light and though it would suggest they would cast beyond her, the light somehow made itself to the floor in front of her hooves. Despite the unfamiliarity of the symbols, their shadows made words all too familiar. “TWILIGHT, IN, HEAR, ?, CONSTANT, CHAOS, LOVE...” That’s all she could catch. The wall shook and pebbles fell from the ceiling. Light from the wall soon spread itself across the room in roughly chiseled viens, moving past each other in a maze pattern Twilight couldn’t comprehend. She followed them involuntarily and found another wall where the light lead to. Its destination was a raised, convex stone surface. The light flowed with a water texture and filled a circle around it. Five points, equidistant from each other, jutted out from the circle and headed to the center. There, a hoof imprint revealed itself. Her hoof lifted. She pressed it against the panel. The world faded within a hissing noise. “Not so loudly,” Luna scolded in a whisper. “We don’t wish to awake her.” Twilight wanted to open her eyes, but her curiosity for what they were talking about consumed her. “Of course, Princess Luna. The reports are in; her horn has suffered some minor burns but otherwise her vitals are in perfect condition. Whatever that magic surge was earlier, the worst of it seemed to pass.” Twilight could not guess the stallion’s voice who spoke. He wasn’t Dr. Cooperation. Luna sighed. “She’ll be glad to hear that.” The shuffling of sheets caught the lunar alicorn’s attention. She approached the dome her sister’s pupil rested in and examined the sleeping body within. Her legs had twitched, that was all. Luna pressed her hoof against the thin dome, sullen that she could not be of any more assistance than a mere bystander. A nurse by the door threw his playing cards into the air as his companion scooped up the jackpot. Twilight decided to stop playing coy. She arose and spread out her wings which felt stiff after being under her all afternoon. She pressed the talk button on the panel beside her bed and said with freshly awoken tenderness, “I am glad. And I think your microphone is on.” She rubbed the sleep out of her eyes and grinned with Luna’s surprised smile. “I did not realize you were awake.” “The princess of the night not knowing who was asleep? Wha?” Twilight couldn’t help but snicker playfully. Never let it be said princesses weren’t above sticking out their tongue. “I find it hard to imagine my sister knows when everyone is awake, or when you know if two ponies are true friends.” “Ok, ok, you’ve made your point.” A nurse from the door asked, “Does this mean we can stop whispering, Princess?” Twilight recognized him as the gruff voice from yesterday. “Only if that is ok with Twilight.” Luna received a reassuring nod from the pony in question. “In that case- Ha! Three aces ya slum.” “Impressive. But I’m afraid I have you beat.” The other nurse smugly laid down his hand. “Four twos.” “Four tw- you’re killin’ me Syndrome.” They both chuckled like buffoons and then set up another round. “Glad I ain’t stupid enough to bet real bits against ya no more.” Twilight yawned and got back the attention of Luna. “What time is it?” “Far too late in the evening for you to be awake.” The patient had other ideas as she craned her neck this way and that, desperately trying to get crick out of her neck. A familiar tingling sensation from when she’d rest for too long in the library swept through her legs and much of her pent up energy was being difficult to handle. It hadn’t come up earlier, but she also hadn’t gone to the bathroom in quite some time and the urge was- perhaps literally- going to kill her. In short, she needed to move. Without warning, she hopped out of the bed. Next to the bed was a blue respirator mask which she struggled to lift over her head and equip only using her hooves. After some minor fumbling and two attempts -the first of which ended up with an upside down mask- later, she pressed a hoof on the glass door. “I really need to take a stroll, walk around a bit.” “Very well, a stroll around the castle would do you some good. Please, wait there for a moment.” Luna walked to the end of the chamber and pressed a yellow button near the exit. A fine mist spread through the dome and lightly coated the pony inside. Twilight’s nose itched from the mask, and she wiggled her nose to adjust it. The scent of the mask caused her nose to quietly sniffle. “Ara yoy reaer, Twilliwt?” Twilight shook her head. She delicately rubbed a hoof in her ear, thinking the mist had messed with her hearing. “Huh?” “Are you coming, Twilight?” Luna repeated with a thin frown. She opened the door in front of Twilight. “Of course.” ~~~ Twilight heaved a large sigh that had been sitting in her chest all day. Her jittery legs subsided as she took another step in the hallway, delicately scratching her itchy nose. The castle’s bright, ornate tiling and windows assumed a dimmer, pale-blue luminescent reflectiveness. It wasn’t difficult for her to see, far from it, but it felt odd not being able to view the hall from end to end. “How do you feel, Twilight?” Luna kept her strides short, matching with her friend’s slow gait. “I don’t know. Fine, I guess.” Luna knew there was nothing interesting about the floor which she seemed keen to keep her attention to. “You don’t sound fine. Are you worried?” She bent down and whispered into her ear, “The nurses haven’t tried to court you, have they?” “What? I- no,” she denied with blushing cheeks that grew hotter with Luna’s stifled giggling. At least her attention was off the floor now, Luna thanked in her head. “It is not becoming of a princess to present depression.” Twilight took in a deep breath. “Did you have visions when under the disease?” “Visions?” Luna repeated, unsureness obvious in her voice. “I had dreams, but-” she paused as Twilight sniffled, “ I couluo’c maam senes ofo thht.” Twilight shook her head and knocked a hoof against her ear. “Come again?” “I couldn’t make sense of them. Are you sure you’re-” “Fine? Yeah, I think I just got some of the mist in my ear is all.” Luna nodded accordingly. Twilight continued her train of thought. “Do you remember anything about them?” “In my life as a princess of Equestria, I have had this illness six times. It occurred to me and my sister that these dreams would predict an event in the future. As our magic grew over the ages, so did the vividness of these foreshadowing messages.” Luna eyed Twilight. “With magic as strong as yours so early, I would not find it surprising if they were strong.” “They’re... confusing.” Twilight scratched her nose again as it became uncomfortable to breathe. She sniffled once more and couldn’t help but notice Luna’s eyes direct themselves at the moon for a moment when she did so. “ Ifi Necesecen, I cac cooc ana visiv yooy dreerd ana perhrep heeh interetni thht?” she asked. “Whht?” “Twilliwt, Im’I beginigeb tot worow aboba yoy. Perhrep thht waaw waw non a goog iddi.” “Luul, I caa’c underednu whhw you’oy sayyas.” “Twiliwt, I caa’c underednu- oho, yooy snivevins! Iti muum beb yooy stuuts noon cauuac thht.” “Luul, I thiht tht disesid isi takkat effffe ini mym noon. It’i makkam usu non underednu ono anotona.” “Perhrep thht isi tht perfrep tiit tot teet yoy I dropord yooy toothhtoot ini tht bathhtab toiiot ana forrof tot rinir iti. Taat heaeh tht toiiot waw non ‘ussu’ durrud thht tiit.” ~~~ Pinkie and sneaky weren’t two words that pair well together. They were close to rhyming, but not quite; appropriate, given how inept she was at slinking down the squeaky stairs of Sugarcube Corner. Humming a spy theme while tiptoeing across the wooden floors wasn’t helping her case either. She peeked around the open archway to the kitchen. The refrigerator was on the west wall, closest to where she was observing the area. It was humming in the night, a subtle undertone to her musical dupery, as if it were waiting patiently for a certain pink pony to open it and take a midnight snack. That was exactly what she planned to do. Executing a perfect cartwheel, which not-so-perfectly knocked around pots and pans hanging above the center counter, she rolled to -or in her case, rolled into- the cabinets and gave herself a hi-hoof for her excellent sneakyness. The fridge was so close now. She could reach out and open the door if she wanted to. “Don’t.” Pinkie froze as her hoof touched the handle. “Pinkie Pie, stand up, I know you’re there.” Her other hoof raised itself above the counter, acting as a periscope that even had its own pair of glasses. Impossibly, it saw Mrs. Cake sitting in the far table, hidden by the shadows. Her hoof sank a little as it saw the grumpy face staring back at it. “We need to talk, you and I.” Her hoof shook its head. “Yes, we do. It’s about your late night snacking.” She wiggled her hoof around, conversing with Mrs. Cake in its own special way. “Should I assign you more babysitting duties?” Her hoof shook its head wildly and raised itself higher, soon followed by the rest of Pinkie Pie’s body. She attempted a grin, but even she couldn’t fake her way past Mrs. Cake disappointment. She placed the glasses on the top of the counter she had been hiding behind and mosied on over to the table, pulling up a chair and looking down at the wooden floor. “Pinkie Pie, we can’t keep doing this.” She sighed. “I know. But my tummy was so hungry, I just had to have something.” Mrs. Cake crossed her arms. The trouble maker knew that wasn’t a good sign. “Tell me deary, what’s in the fridge.” “...cake.” “And who is the cake always for?” “...the customers.” “So who doesn’t get to have the cake in the fridge?” “uhhh, Pound Cake?” “Yes, and?” “Pumpkin Cake?” “Yes, and?” “...Mr. Cake?” “Yes, and?” “...me?” “Yes. This has been happening for the past week now dear, I’m worried about you.” Pinkie Pie had once learned a lesson about responsibility and how she needed to own up to her actions. Her tummy might have been empty, but it was full of butterflies nonetheless. She knew what she had to do and from somewhere, she summoned her courage and nerves. “I think I have a sugus addicidda.” Mrs. Cake furrowed her brow. “What?” “I said, I think I have a sugus addicidda.” Mrs. Cake slowly shook her head from side to side. “Oh Pinkie, you can’t stop playing games for one moment, can you?” The mare in question gasped. “Of course I can! I just did! I’m trying to say I have a sugus addicidda! I mean, a sugus add-” she growled at her mouth. Maybe this telling somepony you have a problem thing was harder than she thought. “Ok.” She exhaled and moved her hooves like she was parting water. “I have a sugus addicidda. Oh come on!” The show owner shifted in her seat. It was clear to her Pinkie really was trying to tell her something important. “It’s ok, Pinkie. I know how hard it is to tell somepony else when you have an issue. It sounds serious enough that your body just won’t let you say it.” “Wait, let me try one more time. Sugar.” “Sugar?” “Addiction.” “...addiction.” “Sugus addicidda.” Pinkie Pie unceremoniously slammed her face into the table. “Are you trying to say sugus addicidda?” Mrs. Cake clasped her hooves over her mouth. “Sugus addicidda.” Pinkie mumbled something into the wood. It sounded like “See what I mean?” Mrs. Cake sighed. “Why can’t we say sugus addicidda?” “I don’t know! I think it’s cursed!” “Sugar,” they said simultaneously. “Addiction. Sugus Addicidda.” “What is wrong with us?” Mr. Cake stood by the archway that Pinkie had not-so-subtly slipped through to snatch a meal earlier and watched with an emotion that he could only describe as a confused terror as his wife and employee sat at the dimly lit table, saying the same word over and over again like witchcraft. He did what any responsible husband might do and backed away, backtracking up the stairs. He wouldn’t ask in the morning what he saw. “I think we’re both too tired for this. How about I cook some midnight cinnamon rolls and we head to bed?” Her hoof, with its glasses inconspicuously back on, raised up and nodded. ~~~ “Cac yoy grrg mem a tissit?” “Whhw?” Twilight mimicked blowing her nose. “A tissit?” Twilight vigorously nodded. “A tissit!” Luna summoned a handkerchief and levitated it to Twilight. “Heeh yoy ara.” Twilight blew her nose, finding it to be an odd sensation of having to balance the cloth on her hoof instead of holding it steady with her own magic. “Thank you.” “Ahh, much better.” Luna rolled her eyes. “I know how difficult it can be to understand somepony with a stuffy nose-” Twilight purposefully sniffled, not wanting to hear the rest. “-bub thht waw ridiccidir.” “Well, now we know what that does.” Twilight and Luna jumped when a door they had recently passed swung open and slammed against the wall. “If you want to make fun of me by mouthing off some gibberish in a foreign language, that’s fine. But don’t you keep it a secret from me!” The mare strode out, throwing a pillow over her shoulder. The pillow landed on the stallion’s face which he quickly swiped off. “Lillian! I swear that wasn’t me!” he pleaded, crawling on his hind legs. “I mean, it was, but I didn’t mean it!” “And now you go and lie to me, Button?” She shook her hind leg to get the fool desperately clasping on off. “If you wanted to say something to me, just say it.” “But I-” he was cut short as he received a swift kick to the face. “Lillian!” he belted, holding a hoof to his nose. She didn’t look back. The stallion collapsed into a sobbing mess on the floor, constantly repeating her name in a whimper. “Should we go after her and tell her?” Luna stood there with an unamused face. “No, he’s had that coming to him.”