Asylum
Chapter 16
“Twilight, it’s time to get up.”
Twilight struggled to raise her eyelids against the chemical sting of her room’s single light, a groan escaping her lips. The voice repeated itself a little more firmly, drawing Twilight’s gaze away from the plain ceiling tiles. She blinked a few times as Nurse Coldheart swam into view, the older mare appearing like a fish rising up from the depths of a murky lake.
“Come on now, you need to get up and ready,” Nurse Coldheart added as she glanced over Twilight. She smiled. “At least you didn’t spend the night on the floor again.”
Twilight rolled her eyes. “Yay,” she grunted as she kicked the sheets off. The bite of the hospital’s cold air pulled a hiss of displeasure from Twilight’s teeth, instantly banishing her morning grogginess and leaving her awake, alert, and annoyed. Sparing a single longing glance at her rumpled sheets, Twilight rolled out of bed and onto her hooves. “Gah! Cold, cold, cold!” Twilight gasped as she danced from hoof to hoof, trying to keep as little of her body in contact with the floor as she could. She leveled an accusatory glare at the nurse. “It’s like a freezer in here!”
“I’m sorry dear, but the air conditioning broke last night,” Nurse Coldheart explained as she fetched a fresh patient’s vest from the room’s small closet. “We’ve been having electrical problems all week. Thankfully, it’s only on this floor. Just consider it extra incentive to get ready even quicker.” She smiled as she handed the bundle over.
Twilight’s gaze shifted from the fuzzy pink sweater Nurse Coldheart was wearing to the ratty vest in her outstretched hoof. She sighed and slipped it on without complaint. Even with numbed hooves, it only took Twilight a few seconds to make her bed. “There. I’m dressed. The bed is made. Can we go now?” she asked, trying to keep her teeth from chattering.
Twilight shifted her weight from one hoof to another as Coldheart did another quick examination of the room, the seconds dragging on endlessly in the frigid air. “Alright, everything looks fine. Go ahead and line up outside for your medicine.” She gave Twilight another smile as she escorted the younger mare from the room. “The good news is that the water heaters are still working, so you can warm yourself up with a fresh shower.”
The thought of a hot shower almost brought a grin to Twilight’s face. “Well, that’s something, at least,” she grunted. The hallway outside her room was a few degrees warmer, enough to make it less painful to stand on the tiles. Still, she wasn’t surprised to see the other patients looking as miserable as she felt.
The silver lining to the temperature problem was that nopony felt like talking, something Twilight recognized as a true blessing when Silver Glow took her position in line next to Twilight, her arrival preceded by a wave of fragrant perfume. The white unicorn mumbled something about the disgraceful conditions in between loud sniffles, but seemed content to avoid trying to drag Twilight into a conversation as they waited for their medication.
Twilight's shower was equally uneventful, and she found herself feeling faintly optimistic by the time Applejack came by to collect her. The previous night had been spent hard at work crafting a list of essential questions she needed answered, which she had then cross-referenced against the list of questions she might actually get answers to. It was a depressingly short document, but Twilight took that fact in stride.
After all, I have to start small, she thought as she followed Applejack through the sterile halls. The temperature grew more tolerable with every floor they descended. Focus on the little victories and keep working on your friends. Until then, just play your role as a good little filly. Twilight had told herself the same words a dozen times, but the need to repeat it was almost physical. She wouldn’t let herself get distracted. She had to save her friends to save Equestria. Nothing else mattered.
Twilight glanced over at Applejack. Not even my pride.
Driven by her determination and focus, the day went quickly for Twilight. Breakfast, group therapy, and even another class with Miss Trixie had all passed in a seeming blur.
Twilight looked up from her painting, mulling the thought over. No, she corrected herself, it didn’t go quickly at all. It dragged on like racing snails. There was just nothing to break the monotony. She sighed, turning her attention back to the mostly blank sheet of paper before her. It was another period of arts and crafts, and the teacher, Miss Toola Roola, had told them all that their goal for the day was to paint a landscape. Playing the role of the obedient, healthy filly, Twilight had slapped some green paint down to form a trio of pretty unconvincing hills.
Twilight rolled the brush around in her mouth. Still, there’s no reason to hurry. I’ve got a full hour to waste on this drek. She turned to the empty seat beside her, a twinge of annoyance teasing the back of her mind. The mental schedule she had created had set aside arts and crafts for Pinkie Pie. After spending most of her breakfast and lunch trying subtly to find out what she could from Applejack, Twilight had determined to spend a bit more time working on her pink friend, building up her confidence and breaking her out of her shell of self-doubt.
It was a plan that was sabotaged as soon as the two of them had arrived. Toola Roola had asked Pinkie to take a stack of papers down to administration, a request Pinkie had been only too eager to oblige. After putting a lanyard around her neck carrying a card marking her as a ‘Patient Assistant’ she had set off, the papers perched precariously on her back as she whistled a jaunty tune.
Twilight glanced away. It was only a temporary setback. Pinkie would return eventually. Besides, we still have dinner together. And considering how Fluttershy reacted during our last free time period, I’ll likely be better served spending more time trying to teach Pinkie chess again. Twilight smiled as she dipped her brush into the tin of green paint. Besides, if I don’t get to work, I’ll just draw attention to myself. The last thing I need is to attract–
“Twilight?” a familiar voice asked from directly behind her.
Twilight jerked her head around fast enough that she had to bite down hard on the end of her brush to keep it from flying out of her mouth – which did nothing to keep the globules of green paint from being flung straight at the speaker. Twilight lifted her wide-eyes up from the other pony’s paint-stained clothes to meet Toola Roola’s disapproving stare. With deliberate care, Twilight removed the brush from her mouth. “Y-Yes, Miss Roola?”
Toola Roola spared a momentary glance back down at the fresh stains on her smock before she turned her gaze back on the blushing Twilight. “You need to be more aware of your surroundings, Twilight. Otherwise, you’ll end up spending your class time with a mop and bucket instead of paint and brushes.”
Twilight felt a momentary rush of relief that her green missiles had struck Toola Roola’s already soiled smock, the heavy fabric bearing the scars of a lifetime spent in the possession of a determined artist. “Of course, Miss Roola.”
The art teacher rooted around in one of her smocks many pockets, pushing aside the protruding assortment of brushes and pencils and rulers and beads and string and feathers and misshapen lumps of clay. Twilight wouldn’t have been surprised if a family of mice were living within its grimy folds. Eventually Toola Roola found what she was looking for and tugged out a folded piece of paper from one of the cleaner pockets. She gave Twilight a thin smile as she held out her hoof. “This is for you.”
Reluctantly, Twilight picked up the paper. After making sure it wasn’t bearing any sort of disgusting stains or fungal infections – a reasonable concern considering the state of Toola Roola’s clothing – she unfolded the edges carefully. Twilight’s eyes widened again, this time in awe. It was a drawing of a pair of robins rendered in charcoal, but the detail was exquisite. Twilight almost expected them to leap off the paper and soar around the room, such was the impression of vitality they possessed.
“This… this is amazing, Ms. Roola,” said Twilight as she lifted her gaze back to her teacher. “I’m flattered, but I don’t feel like I can accept this.”
Toola Roola blinked. “Why not?”
“This is a really great drawing, but I don’t think you should give this to me. Wouldn’t you rather put this up on the wall with your other work?” Twilight gestured at the many paintings and sketches that hung from the walls. “Honestly, this is the best thing you’ve ever done. Everything else is so bland and pedestrian compared to this drawing. It’s the sort of piece that should be hanging from a gallery in Canterlot, not stuck on the wall of a patient’s cell.” Twilight gave Toola Roola a warm grin and held the drawing back out to her. “It’s a demonstration of your true talent, and I could never take that away from you.”
Toola Roola narrowed her eyes. “I didn’t draw that.”
The paper slipped out of Twilight’s hooves. “W-What?”
“I didn’t draw that,” she repeated. “One of my students, Fluttershy, left a note saying she wanted me to give this to you the next time you were here.”
“Oh.” A crimson warmth burned Twilight’s cheeks. She tapped her hooves together nervously. “I, uh, I d-didn’t mean that–”
“If you’ll excuse me, I have other students to attend to,” interrupted Toola Roola. She lifted her head as she glared down at Twilight. “Hopefully, they won’t end up being as bland and pedestrian as I am.”
Twilight’s mouth flapped uselessly as Toola Roola spun on her hooves and strode away with her nose in the air. “Sorry!” Twilight squeaked after her to no avail. Twilight turned back to the table and buried her blushing face in her hooves. “I’m such an idiot,” she groaned. “How could I be that dense? Why did I assume that Fluttershy’s drawing was… was…” Twilight lifted her head from her crossed forearms. “Fluttershy’s… drawing?”
The two fillies at Twilight’s table yelped as Twilight knocked her stool aside and dropped to the floor. “Where is it?” she gasped as she dove beneath the table, pushing aside dust covered boxes of art supplies. “Where is it? Where did it go?” A flash of white caught her eye, and Twilight pulled the drawing free from the spot it had landed with a cry of victory. It was followed immediately by a cry of pain when she jumped to her hooves and banged her head on the underside of the table, causing the two fillies to yelp again.
“Are you okay, Twilight?” the pegasus on the left asked when Twilight reappeared.
“I’m… fine…” Twilight managed through her clenched teeth, tears leaking from the corners of her eyes. She clutched the base of her horn while groping blindly for her stool with her free hoof, sitting down heavily once she managed to pull it upright. “I just… I need a minute,” she added as she cradled her throbbing head. She wiped away her tears. I am going to buck the teeth out of whoever decided to make horns so sensitive.
Eventually the spike of agony that had been drilling its way through her skull faded away to something comparable to the sting from a ten-pound bumble bee. Focus, she told herself sternly, forcing her mind away from the pain in her forehead and onto the paper that lay on the table before her. The knowledge that it had been a gift by Fluttershy was a greater balm to her aches than any medication. I can’t believe it. I really did make contact with her, she thought with a smile. She must have liked my drawing enough that she felt like she needed to give me one back. Birds must be the key! If I can just keep focused on birds and animals and all the other adorable things Fluttershy cares about, I’ll be able to make progress with her and help to remind her of… of…
Twilight’s smile slipped. What, remind her of the real world? Nopony is going to believe me if I tell them the truth too soon. How am I going to cure Fluttershy in time if I’m stuck communicating through the medium of arts and crafts?
She tapped her hoof against the table as she let some of her frustration bleed away. Okay, I need to stay positive. Focus on what I can do. She glanced from Fluttershy’s inspired drawing to her own green-smeared sheet of paper. She reached out to pull a tin of paint closer, narrowing her brow in determination. Sometimes, you just have to be patient and work with what you’ve got. Twilight grinned around the brush held in her teeth. And if she likes birds, then I’m going to give her birds!
“Twilight! Wait up!” Pinkie Pie called out as she galloped after her friend, her scarred leg giving her an unbalanced gait.
“I can’t!” Twilight answered over her shoulder as she pounded down the hallway, ignoring the looks of surprise on the faces of other patients as she passed them. “We’re late!”
“Late for what?” gasped Pinkie, huffing heavily as she closed the distance. “I mean, I know how awesome free time is, but you should really slow down. What if Nurse Rat–”
“Twilight Sparkle, stop running this instant!”
The new voice reverberated along the walls, the resolve and command in the words locking up Twilight’s legs, bringing her to a sudden and ungainly halt. A glaring Nurse Ratchet stomped her way over to Twilight, her assistant Silas dutifully following two steps behind. He was a head taller than the mare and built like a draft horse, but Nurse Ratchet seemed to dwarf everyone else in the hallway’s tight confines, a mountain of granite with a nurse’s cap.
Twilight gulped. “H-Hello Nurse Ratchet,” she said with a weak grin.
“What are you doing running in the halls?” Nurse Ratchet asked as she strode up to Twilight, cold fury burning in her eyes. She didn’t yell. Her voice was like an avalanche in the distance; cold and dangerous and impossible to ignore. Twilight shrank away as Nurse Ratchet pushed her muzzle uncomfortably close to her own. “You know the rules. No running allowed!”
“And you!” she hissed as she spun to face a cringing Pinkie Pie. “I’m ashamed of you, Pinkie Pie! You know better than to allow other patients to run in the halls. A pony could end up hurting themselves. You wouldn’t want to be responsible for hurting somepony, would you?” Pinkie whimpered and shook her head. “Would you?”
“No!” choked out Pinkie, her voice breaking like dry twigs under a heavy hoof.
“You’re a patient assistant. Start acting like it.” Nurse Ratchet glanced between the two cringing patients, her heavy gaze weighing down upon their shoulders. “If I ever catch either of you running around like that again, you’re both going to be punished. Do I make myself clear?”
“Yes, Nurse Ratchet,” Twilight answered. Pinkie Pie’s response was a muffled echo of her own. “I promise it won’t happen again.”
“Good. Now both of you walk – walk – like all the other good patients.” Nurse Ratchet watched carefully as Twilight took a few timid steps away from her. After putting a few body lengths between them Twilight turned and hurriedly walked away from the nurse.
“There is something seriously frightening about that mare,” said Twilight to Pinkie once she was sure they were a safe distance away. “She’s just the head nurse here, but whenever she gets that really cold look in her eyes…” Twilight shivered. “It seems irrational, though. What sort of punishment can she honestly give to a hospital patient?” She forced herself to laugh. “Right, Pinkie?”
Silence.
Twilight frowned and turned to look at her friend. “Pinkie? Are you alright?”
“... ‘m n-not a bad pony...” Pinkie Pie mumbled to herself, her unblinking eyes staring through the walls at some distant point on the horizon. Tears trickled down her cheeks unchecked, her hooves rooted to the floor. “I'm not a bad pony… I'm not a b-bad pony...”
“Pinkie? Pinkie, look at me,” Twilight said, grabbing her friend’s chin and turning her head so she could look Pinkie in the eye. “You’re not a bad pony, Pinkie. Okay? You’re a great, wonderful, amazing pony. Just listen to my voice. You’re not a bad pony.”
Pinkie Pie flinched when she finally met Twilight’s stare, her vacant gaze dissipating like a morning mist in a stiff breeze. “We shouldn’t have done that…” Pinkie whispered, nibbling on her lower lip. “I don’t want to be punished. I don’t want to be a b… don’t wanna get in trouble.”
The corners of Twilight’s lips pulled down. “What sort of punishment can she honestly give you for running in the halls once?”
Pinkie shook her head as she brushed her tail with unsteady hooves. “Nurse Ratchet can be really mean if you break the rules. Normally she’s not that bad, even if her smiles are fakey-fakes and she doesn’t ever laugh.” Pinkie turned to glance up and down the hall to make sure nopony else was in earshot, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “But if you break a rule, though, she gets really upset. She just…” A shiver worked its way up Pinkie’s spine. “She just doesn’t like it when ponies break the rules.”
“Oh, come on, it can’t be that bad,” Twilight scoffed, putting as much confidence as she could into her words and ignoring how the hairs on the back of her neck were all standing on end. “After all, we’re just names on a checklist to them.”
“Honestly Twilight, you don’t wanna find out!” repeated Pinkie, the color draining from her face. “Especially after all that super secret stuff you told me about the, you know… Elements-ey of Armony-hay. So just take my word on it. Please?”
“Alright, alright. I’ll try to avoid ending up on her bad side,” Twilight promised as the two mares resumed their walk.
The travelled in silence. With her tail still tucked in tight beneath her body and her ears held tightly to her skull, Pinkie looked like nothing more than a dog well used to the kicks of its master.
Twilight couldn’t stand the pathetic sight any longer. “Hey, Pinkie, I didn’t want to show it to you at dinner, but I’ve got something amazing for you to look at.” Carefully, Twilight removed the charcoal drawing from her vest pocket with her teeth and held it out for Pinkie. “Take a look at this.”
Pinkie Pie’s eyes popped open. “Wow!” she gasped. “That’s… that’s amazing! Did you do this?”
“No, I didn’t draw it. Fluttershy did, and she gave it to me.”
“That’s fantastic! So, are you like friends now? Did you meet with her in arts and crafts class? Come on, tell me everything!” Pinkie asked excitedly, her face split with a sunny grin that melted the last of her despair.
“No, no, I don’t think you can call us ‘friends’ just yet. I haven’t seen her in person all day either, and I’ve been looking,” said Twilight as she returned the drawing to her pocket. “That’s why I barely had time to talk to you at dinner. I spent the entire period looking around for her. Applejack started to ask if I was feeling okay because of all the bathroom breaks I asked for. I’m certain I double checked every table, yet somehow I still missed her. How is that possible?”
Pinkie shrugged. “That’s because she eats her meals in her room.”
“Ah. That would make it hard to find h–” Twilight nearly choked. “Wait, she what?”
“Yeah, Fluttershy doesn’t eat in the cafeteria. One of the nurses brings her meals up to her room. Every few months they try to get her to eat with the rest of the patients, but… Well, she just sits there and gets really skinny and they end up putting her back in her room each time.”
“Why didn’t you tell me this earlier?” groaned Twilight.
Pinkie Pie smiled. “Because you didn’t ask, silly!”
She gave Pinkie a flat stare. “It was a rhetorical… You know what, never mind. I learned my lesson. If I want to know something about somepony, I’m going to make sure to ask you first, okay?”
“Okie-dokie!”
Despite having been forced to walk the most of the distance, the two mares still managed to arrive at their destination with plenty of time to spare. As expected, Pinkie Pie was eager to help once Twilight finished explaining her plan. Taking up their previous position by the chessboard, Twilight removed the two sheets of paper from her pockets and laid them atop the checkered wood. The first was Fluttershy’s gift. The second was her own painting; a non-toxic weapon in her war against Fluttershy’s social anxieties.
As Twilight carefully smoothed out the wrinkles with her hoof she caught Pinkie giving the painting a concerned look. “What? What is it?”
“You don’t think that maybe, I dunno, she might be a little upset if you give her that? I mean, her drawing is really amazing, and that’s just a picture of a moose.”
“Moose!” sputtered Twilight. “It’s not a moose! It’s...” Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath. “Look, Miss Art Critic, she liked the last painting I did just fine. Now, keep a look-out for me while I try to straighten this out.” First impressions were everything, after all, and keeping the paper folded up in one of her vest pockets didn’t do much for the visual quality of her painting. With deliberate care she ran her hoof along the creases as if ironing the wrinkles from a dress.
By the time Pinkie Pie nudged her to get her attention, Twilight was confident her painting was as good as it was going to get. “There she is,” Pinkie whispered. Turning her head to follow Pinkie’s gaze, Twilight watched Fluttershy slink around the walls of the room, keeping as much distance as she could between herself and any nearby ponies, her mane acting like a pink shield to protect her from any unwanted attention.
Twilight waited until Fluttershy took her customary place by the window before turning back to her friend. “Okay Pinkie, here’s the plan. I’m going to do what I did yesterday, come up to her, offer her the painting, say a few words, and hopefully draw her into some kind of a conversation centered around birds. Thoughts?”
“Well, I don’t think it’s gonna work.”
“What do you mean? She created this wonderful picture and left it for me,” Twilight countered, tapping her hoof against the charcoal drawing. “I think I’m making excellent progress with her.”
Pinkie shrugged. “Well, if you think so. I just don’t think you’re gonna get her to start talking with you after just one day. I mean, doesn’t it seem like you’re going a bit fast?”
“I have to move fast! The princesses are counting on me!” Twilight snapped, nostrils flaring. She took a few deep breathes as she reigned in her anger, Pinkie’s words sinking into her mind. “Alright, I see your point. I won’t push her too hard. I’ll still try to start a conversation, but if she doesn’t respond, I’ll back off. Okay?”
After Pinkie nodded her assent, Twilight gathered up her painting and ambled away from their table, the paper resting flat on her back. She took a deliberately circuitous path around the intervening obstacles, looping back around so she could approach Fluttershy in clear view of her friend. Twilight’s mind went back to one of the books she had read the previous night about body-language. Move slowly to display a calm demeanour, but not so slow as to suggest ulterior motives. When approaching someone, be aware of where you are looking. Staring forcefully at your target is a challenging display that can create conflict, while avoiding looking at them entirely is both false and insulting. Stay relaxed but determined.
Fluttershy’s eyes flicked over to Twilight as she drew closer. With a soft squeak Fluttershy turned back to the window, her wings flickering with faint distress. As she drew closer Twilight repeated the lessons in her head again, giving Fluttershy a friendly smile that was not clownishly big or sarcastically small. She could tell Fluttershy was still carefully watching her from the corner of her eyes, shivering faintly as she shrank away from the approaching unicorn. Pinkie Pie’s doubts seemed much more astute the closer Twilight got, and Twilight made sure to halt a little further away from Fluttershy than she had originally intended, just in case.
“Hello, Fluttershy,” Twilight said, reading from the top of the mental script she had composed earlier. “I’m Twilight Sparkle, and we met yesterday. I’m the one that gave you the painting of the bird. Miss Toola Roola gave me that drawing you did, and I was really impressed. That was one of the best drawings of two Erithacus rubecula I’ve ever seen.”
Although she continued to stare ahead like an anxious gargoyle, Fluttershy’s ears twitched in Twilight’s direction as she spoke. Twilight took it as a sign to continue. “It was a really great present, and I wanted to give you something in return.” Grabbing the corner of her painting in her teeth Twilight advanced on Fluttershy slowly, ignoring the increasing tremors working their way up Fluttershy’s body. She halted only once she was a few steps closer to Fluttershy than she had managed the previous day. Laying the paper out carefully on the floor Twilight retreated back a few steps. “I thought that since we both really like birds, and I’d like to be your friend, maybe we could discuss them sometime? If that’s alright with you, I mean.”
Twilight kept a firm hoof on her sense of unease and annoyance at Fluttershy’s continued silence. Again, Pinkie Pie’s words of caution flashed through her mind, and Twilight had to admit that even though Fluttershy wasn’t shaking as much as she had yesterday, it wasn’t much cause for celebration. Still, Twilight smiled again. “Well, I know you’re busy, so I’ll leave you alone for now. But I want you to have this painting of a Tyto alba I did for you. I hope that you like it, even though you’re a much better artist than I am. And, uh, I’d love to talk with you sometime. Or if you don’t like that, you can just give a note to Toola Roola or Doctor Applejack, and they’ll make sure they get to me. So… goodbye, then!”
After hesitating for a moment in vain hope her friend would respond verbally Twilight turned around and casually walked away, fighting the urge to look back and see if Fluttershy had taken the bait. She had to let Fluttershy respond on her own, and obsessively watching her was not the way to break through her shell.
Twilight ignored the look the orderly gave her as she passed by his precious radio, the soothing sounds of a small jazz band helping to wash some of her own anxieties away. There was a faint pop from one of the speakers as the music fizzled for a moment.
“... Tw… ight?”
She almost tripped over her own hooves. Twilight spun around to stare back at the radio as the music warbled and fluctuated, a few discordant notes making it through the hissing static, as if the wooden box was filled with a nest of agitated vipers.
“Stupid thing,” the orderly grunted, banging a hoof against the metal grill on top. There was a second pop and the static vanished, replaced by the same soothing notes as before. He caught Twilight’s eye and gave her a faintly apologetic smile. “Heh, sorry about that, kid. Sometimes you just need to give these things a little hoof-power to get them working again.”
“I, uh, I understand,” Twilight said, barely even looking at him. She lingered by the radio until the next song began, the music as clean as before. Turning away, she made her way towards Pinkie Pie, her friend’s face split in a wide grin.
“So, how did it go?” Pinkie asked, leaning across the chessboard.
Twilight blinked. “Oh. It went well.” Pushing what she thought she had heard from her mind, she gave Pinkie a firm nod. “You were right, she wasn’t prepared to have a full conversation with me, but I think I definitely am making progress. She didn’t seem to shake as much or look like she was about to have a heart attack, and she looked like she was listening to me.” She signed. “But if yesterday is anything to go by, then I won’t be able to gauge my success until tomorrow. It could still all be a waste of time.”
“Hey, I don’t want to see you making a grumpy face,” Pinkie declared. “You’ve done a lot! I mean, except for Rainbow Dash or a few of the doctors, you’ve come the closest to getting Fluttershy to talk. That’s something to be proud of! And to celebrate, I think we should play a game.”
Twilight flinched. “Uh, Pinkie, I’d rather not play chess again. Can’t we–”
Her words were cut off when Pinkie slammed a worn box against the board. “Not chess, silly billy! You got to pick the game yesterday, so now it’s my turn. And today we’re gonna play one of my favorite games.”
Twilight’s face fell as she read the faded letters aloud. “Candy World. A magical adventure for foals aged four to eight.”
“Yeah, it’s absolutely funnerific!” Pinkie said as she whipped the top off the box. “It’s got this really cool setting, and there are lots of really really awesome places you get to visit.”
“Pinkie, this game is for little foals. I mean, there’s no counting, no reading, and no strategy. You win based around what cards are drawn at the very start. That’s it.”
She smiled. “I know! That means no matter how good or bad somepony is at games, they can still end up a winner.”
Twilight opened her mouth to protest, but all that escaped was another sigh. “Alright, I’ll play,” she said, her surrender causing Pinkie to squeal with delight.
“Goody! Now, you just sit there for a second while I get the game set up, okay?”
Twilight rolled her eyes but agreed, letting Pinkie get to work. She glanced over at Fluttershy, unsurprised to see her in the same place as before. The corners of Twilight’s mouth turned upwards when she noticed the folded up piece of paper poking its head out of one of Fluttershy’s pockets. She allowed herself a wry smile. Well, at least I have something to look forward to tomorrow.
It was a refreshing sensation.
For all the futility in the act, she couldn’t help herself. Twilight had to be sure. Once again she carefully went down the rows of worn and battered books, pulling each one from the shelf and flipping through it before returning it to its home. Even with the air conditioning system working again she still felt like she wanted to wrap a blanket around herself, a cool sense of apprehension crystallizing in her gut.
The lack of medical books was logical, if infuriating. The staff didn’t want their patients feeding their delusions or paranoia – or double checking if what the doctors said was true. But as Twilight scanned around the hundreds of books that covered her walls, it seemed impossible that there wouldn’t be a single record of modern Equestrian history.
After hoofing through the yellowed pages of some frightfully out-of-date encyclopedia on the flora and fauna of the Everfree Forest she slammed the book shut and shoved it back into its slot. Two nights, she’d spent at her task.Two nights of searching through every book in her room, hoping one of them had a misleading title or held another text within an empty cover. It was two nights wasted.
“Wasted,” she repeated aloud as she sat down in front of her desk. She’d cleared some space for herself, but the loose stacks of books that had been on the table when she had first arrived were still there. They were mocking her, their stories of ancient history making the lack of a modern reference all the more glaring. She picked one up at random and began leafing through it, resting her head on her other hoof. It was an old textbook on medieval Equestria that seemed content to gloss over huge swathes of history with a foal-friendly font size. At the end of each chapter were a section of suggested study questions that were illegible beneath the heavy layers of pencil and eraser marks. The book was something she might have read back in grade school, its content far too simplistic to satisfy her intellect.
She sighed and turned the page. Anything was better than wasting what was left of her time engaged in another fruitless night’s search. It was maddening, not being able to find the answers when she knew there was a problem. They were keeping something from her, it was obvious. Hundreds of second-hoof books and discarded textbooks, and not a one covered the last five or ten years? Twilight snorted. Not very likely.
“Uh, Twilight?”
Twilight looked up from a painting of some great knight that one of book’s previous owners had set about improving with a pencil goatee and a half-finished word bubble. A blonde-maned pegasus mare stood in the doorway, her wings helping to support the burlap sack she carried on her back. Her orderly’s uniform looked one size too large on her slight frame, giving her a slightly disheveled appearance.
“Yes ma’am, that’s me,” Twilight said as she met the orderly’s gaze – a task made difficult by the mare’s lazy eye, which seemed to roll around aimlessly in her socket. Blushing, Twilight forced herself to not gawp like some country rube at a circus freak show as she made her way to the door.
The mare set the bag down beside her, either failing to notice or politely ignoring Twilight’s struggle. “I’ve got a letter for you, Twilight,” she said before she dropped her face down into the mailbag and began rummaging around. She smiled victoriously as she pulled a single white letter free. “See?”
Twilight’s heart jumped. She’d written to three ponies, and a response from any of them was enough to make her hooves tingle with anticipation. Resisting the impulse to yank it away and tear it open, Twilight let the mare drop it into her hooves. “Thanks.”
“All in a night’s work for third shift. I’d love to stay and chat, but I gotta get going,” she announced, gripping the burlap bag and tossing it up onto her back with practiced ease. “Tell Pinkie Pie I said hi, will you?”
“You know Pinkie?”
“Sure do. She’s a real hoot, isn’t she? She’s got a joke or story to tell every time I deliver her mail. She told me you were her ‘bestest best mare pal buddy buddy’ the last time we played checkers.” The orderly chuckled as she turned away. “Anyway, I hope it’s good news, Twilight.”
“Thanks,” replied Twilight as she flipped the envelope over in her hooves. Again, she resisted the urge to simply shred the envelope. Instead she held the plain piece of paper up in front of her. Her name, and the address to Broadhoof hospital, was scrawled out in pen on the front, but the return address was a simple stamp. Curiously, it was for a local address in Ponyville.
Twilight wondered which of her family members might have moved to Ponyville as she turned the envelope over again. She frowned. The top of the envelope was a thin open wound that had been resealed with a single piece of tape.
They were reading her mail.
It was a terrible violation of her privacy, but Twilight could barely muster an annoyed grunt. She’d predicted they would, after all. I was right to only trust Rarity with my letters, she thought as she checked the envelope for any other bits of data. Confident the letter didn’t offer her anything else, she finally opened the envelope and removed the folded sheet of paper within.
Dear Twily,
Wow, is it good to hear from you! It’s been awhile since your last letter. I was starting to get a little worried. Hopefully your treatment is going well and the doctors there are taking good care of you. You said that you sent a letter to mom and dad too, but don’t worry if you don’t hear back from dad for awhile. Dad’s on some business trip and won’t get your letter until he gets back in a few weeks.
I know you’re concerned about what is happening at the hospital and you might feel a bit scared and alone, but you shouldn’t be afraid. They’re working hard to help you get better. They are all good ponies there.
I’ve talked to my captain, and he’s decided to let me have next Monday off, so I’m going to come up to visit you a little early this month, okay? I’ll even bring a few new books for you to add to your collection.
I wish I could visit more often, but guarding Equestria is a real full-time job. But don’t worry, I’m perfectly safe. Your big brother is a tough stallion. Hopefully, if I earn that promotion I’ll be able to take off twice a month to see you. Promise!
Love from your BBBFF,
Shining Armor
Twilight read and reread the letter in silence, her face unable to decide upon just one emotion. Her brother hadn’t addressed any of her concerns about the hospital directly, he didn’t say anything about researching into Broadhoof’s public records, and failed to mention if he had passed on anything she had written to the princesses. It felt like he had simply ignored everything she had asked of him.
“Shining is coming to visit!” Twilight shouted, tossing the paper into the air and breaking into a grin. Her concerns and unanswered questions faded away as she danced with merry glee. When the intercom blared into life reminding her that it was lights out in five minutes, Twilight only laughed excitedly as she crawled up into her bed. Monday was still three days away, but Twilight continued to grin as the lights went out. Even the darkness couldn’t dampen her spirits.
It had been a long time since she felt so excited to face a new day.