Icon: Remnants of the North

by Vixavior

Act 3- Chapter 2: A Wake Up

A Wake Up

Proofread by TehSporkBandit

---

“Doctor Barnyard to operation room three, doctor C. Barnyard O.R. three.” The words that lilt through the still air are meaningless, nothing more consequential than a buzzing gnat. You linger on that restful verge of sleep, trapped between the boundary of wakefulness and the realm of dreams, coddled and comforted by a dark velvet blanket and the aromatic scent of lavender. Slowly, you roll on your side and crack open an eye.

Beyond a small bedside table holding your glasses, a mug of water, and your slab-like cell phone, you can see the murky grey void. Staring out the window, thick powdery snowflakes drift by like ash, though your blurry vision may be aiding that illusion. Outside, you can squint and see the muted grey slate tiles as well as the vague outline of the Royal palace’s grand turrets rising against the mountain cliffs. As you stretch out, your soles touch the metal bedposts, sending a shudder of transitory discomfort up your spine. Just curling up beneath the blankets and shrinking away from the cold feels like a good idea.

The patter of hoofsteps echoing down a hallway and the jabbering din of more announcements seem to cut to the quick as your surroundings start to sink in.

I’m in a hospital? How’d I get here?

You close your eyes with a muffled groan and try to recall your most recent memories. You vaguely recall plodding along racks and stumbling as your numbed toes kick the railway ties.

You have to be in Canterlot, you had gone too far to be back in Ponyville, and it isn’t pretty enough to be heaven. Gazing about the closed interior of the room, the tall white veils are drawn up between you and everypony else.

If this is heaven, then Rarity’s still alive, this place is too tacky and bland.

Blinking an eye open and looking at the foot of your bed, you see a peculiar banner strung between the two bedposts. Painted on plain white canvas and woven between two small spokes are seven pastel faces. Each bright smile has a corresponding name tag and there is even a stick figure of a dragon with the same treatment. Big happy grins painted bright and cheery with dripping edges mingle with the depiction of a spiral armed sun. In the bottom it read:

Do you remember us?

Leaning your head back against the pillow, you actually start to laugh and cover your eyes before those other emotions can takeover. There is no question who’s responsible for it; Pinkie and Pinkie alone could have made that. A bright red and purple bow trimmed in gold thread is wrapped around the base of the flag: Get well soon, mon cherr.

“What's so funny, hmm?” A familiar accented voice says while cursing about 'dadnab' things under her breath. Applejack sweeps the gauzy white privacy curtain away, but the pendulum motion brings it back in front of her face. Her bedside table has the same glass of water, but there is also that musty stetson hanging off a corner.

The cowpony's hair ties are taken out and the lengthy scarlet ribbons set aside. “AJ? You okay?”

“Don't you fret none, ah got most’a mah bits ‘cept fer some fur.” She dips her head to indicate the large swaddled bandage over her cutie mark. Two faint pink lines remain on the sterile white gauze. “It got me good but ya' know, you can bruise an apple, throw an apple, even get it a bit soggy or rough 'round the edges, but an apple is still an apple. Don’t worry, ya’ got all yer bits too.”

“I hope that’s a euphemism and not just saying nopony stole my wallet while I was sleeping.”

Applejack quietly guffaws, sniffing a little more like her nose is clogged. “Nah, yer alright. Every piece is still in the right place, doctor was worried about yer... hindclaws? Anyhow, after a lukewarm bath and all, you kept ‘em.”

“Well… that could have been pretty embarrassing. Anyway, we’re still here and we didn’t get eaten.”

“Yeah, cuttin' it close though. Ain't afraid to say, ah was shakin' in mah horseshoes.” She sighs and props herself up before craning her head to sip at the glass of water.

“I wasn't.” You rub your eyes and reach for your water to hide an involuntary smirk.

Applejack’s uplifting chortle still can’t remove that damp suffocating aura that snuffs the life from the room. It seems permeating, like the suffocating mass of clouds enveloping the Royal city outside. “Sure, sure, suga'cube.” She looks over at you with a wane smirk, “Ya’ better be ready for some kind'a Pinkie attack. Rainbow's probably gonna have a chip on 'er shoulder, but ya’ weren’t the one to leave 'er behind.”

“Hmm, Rainbow's here?”

“Yep, sure is.” Applejack nods and slurps more water from the straw.

“Twi-” you don't need to finish to see Applejack's smile falter and her eyes well up with unshed tears. Her jaw tenses and she swallows hard before shaking her muzzle. Robbed of speech, you feel that same clutching despair sink in. The mare doesn’t look at you. She fiddles and fluffs the pillow, keeping her muzzle close to it as you see the gentle heaves and shocks grip her chest. “Who's told the princesses?”

“Nopony’s got a summons yet.” She shrugs.

“What summons? Aren’t you the Element of Honesty? Who needs an invitation to see the Prin-wait...” a wave of incredulity washes over you as you eye the mare in bewilderment, “are you saying that the Princesses don't know Twilight is missing?!”

“Cool it, suga'cube. They know, sort’a. Ah was waitin' outside four’r five hours before ah got carted off. Rarity sent letters ta’ everypony she knew and the Princesses, callin' in favours. Fluttershy was tryin' ta’ wait outside in mah place, Rainbow... uh, that mare nearly put herself back in 'ere flyin' up near the castle towers and carryin' on like that. Every time, well, every time but Rainbow, we got back the same answer: the princesses ain't seein' nopony. But they keep wantin' fer Twilight anyhow. Ah think they're, well... Ah hate to say.” She scrunches up her lips and bites down hard. You weren't going to get anything out of her like that.

After settling back and staring at the blank chipboard ceiling with its inbuilt light panels you nod. “So we wait for a summons? Is that it?”

“Princess Celestia is gettin' a bit ornery.” Luna would have made sense, but Celestia had seemed like the rock upon which Equestria was built. “Been sendin' letters to Spike, an Spike's been givin' 'em to Rarity.”

“Spike's here? Where?”

“Givin' 'em to Rarity.” Applejack repeats in the same tone.

Alright, stupid question.

“Alright then, I gotta' ged-up.” The Apple family twang rings thick in your words as you try to push yourself to a seated position. It works as you glance around for your clothing and, more importantly, something to put on your feet.

Coat be damned, freezing feet are the real enemy.

Applejack's laugh says she takes the accent as a compliment. “Woah there, suga'cube, ya’ ain't goin' nowhere ‘till the doctor has a look at ya’. 'Sides....” she lets that hang in the void for a few moments.

A sideways glance at the bed-ridden mare reveals a pensive expression couched in solemnity. “Listen, ah appreciate everything' ya done ta get me out. Guess ah can be a might stubborn there, too, and ah don’t blame ya’ for Twilight goin’ missin’. So, Rightly…” she pauses. It lasts for a second or two as those impassive green eyes seem to swirl like her nascent thoughts. With a quick shake of her head she swallows and that uncertainty begins to clear, “Yer a good pony in mah books.” She beams; it’s a shimmering smile despite unsightly welts, lumps, bruises, and the patch over her cutie mark.

“Oh,” Applejack’s interjection interrupts your rumination, “but ah'm still gonna whoop ya fer that 'stubborn ass' bit.” The mare winks. “And if yer gonna go grabbin’ me like that again, you better hope you can outrun a rainbow.”

I’m not familiar with that phrase, but if it’s rainbow of the ‘Dash’ variety then no, and if it’s the rainbow of the ‘instant’ variety then no too.

The door latch clicks open as you hear ponies enter. “I'm aghast, simply and entirely aghast, dear. Whoever heard of the Princess refusing all her summons? I even contacted Shining Armor and got a form letter back. A form letter! It's dreadful... not the letter, obviously, that was impeccable, but I'm telling you: something's rotten in Equestria.”

Pinkie Pie merely hums, “I don’t know. I can't smell it. Are you sure, Rarity?”

“Yes, Pinkie, of course. Knock-knock, everypony decent?” Rarity quickly admits herself and Pinkie into the small enclosed space.

“C’mon in, Rarity, Pinkie.” Applejack waves them both in, though the gesture isn’t seen by the two in question.

Pinkie takes a deep, sucking breath as she sees you sitting up. Swallowing it down, she purses her lips and gallops the two body lengths between you before skidding to your side and bracing her forehooves against your bedside table. “I knoooow you're supposed to be feeling baaaaad, but can you remeeeeember who weeee are?” The long drawn out words would be patronizing if it wasn’t Pinkie Pie. The mare is being completely serious, right down to the tears welling up in her bright blue eyes.

Looking around at the others as if saying 'you are seeing this, right?' you are met with one fretting look from the Unicorn who is holding a stuffed bluebird doll with shiny black button eyes and a gold thread beak. The bright words 'Get well soon' had been sewn on to its breast in intricate filigree. She bites her bottom lip as her eyes turn slightly glossy. Instead of slipping forward, she recoils unsteadily.

“Yes, Pinkie, I know exactly who you are.” It’s probably too mean to toy with her. Besides, you doubted it would improve your mood either.

She throws her arms around your neck with a loud, “Hah!” and almost swings you from the bed in a loop, though the wobble back and forth in the cheery hug speaks volumes. “I am so-so-sooo happy to hear that! After they said you had brain damage-”

“What!”

“Pinkie cuddid' out girl. Ain't no point'n makin' a fracas over a ruckus.” Evidently it gets Pinkie's attention and holds yours entirely. Looking to you with a hoof up, Applejack shrugs, “It was a bit of a concussion, that's all.”

Well, it’s better than brain damage, but still not great.

A hesitant touch passes across your back. The Unicorn gulps, trying to keep her voice from collapsing into a whine, “I-I-I got you this because…” she sniffs and lets out a fluttering breath.

Glancing back and locking eyes with the fashionista, you can see the tidal blue eyes barely holding back the tears. A harsh, vicious, and demanding voice repeats itself in your mind:

‘How’d you let her go?!’

It is your voice, your frightened worry being directed squarely at the mare. The memory sticks in your stomach, causing it to churn uncomfortably. Twilight is gone, taken, and nopony wants to talk about it.

You stretch out a hand, uncomfortably patting her cheek, “Rarity, I…” you lick your lips and stop short. “I’m sorry, it not your fault. I shouldn’t have said that back there.”

Friends, you are there for them and they are there for you. Looking at Pinkie, you flash her a smile and make a little pointing motion with your chin towards the fashionista. Pinkie Pie gets the hint and takes the chance to enact it. Not even taking the time to trot around the bed, she simply crawls right over it. You suck in a harsh gasp as Pinkie’s bony knees and legs press down on your shins. Shimmying across the sheet, Pinkie enwraps the Unicorn in a half hug as the magic haze falters around the tiny bluebird doll and letting it fall to the bedspread.

You gently clutch the little bluebird token, knowing that she’d altered it just for you. Several faltering breaths escape Rarity’s lips as she mumbles, “T-Twilight…”

“Awww,” Pinkie gently pats her friend’s back, “There there. Auntie Pinkie Pie will make it all better.” But there was nothing but a ungainly silence permeating the room. You even expected a song, some sort of quiet tune to make you forget about things too. Instead, you found your gaze tracking towards the window and the dismal grey haze shrouding the rooftops.

Something feels wrong.

“Rare, ya know that it'll get better. Sun's gotta come out some time. We'll find 'er, don't you fret none. Twi's as stubborn as a mule when she needs ta’ be, an' tougher than a timberwolf's tooth, too.” Applejack’s reassurance sounds genuine, but there is some hint of it that seems reserved. If you were more cynical, it would be easier to believe that she is just trying to convince herself. Rarity nods dumbly in response without glancing up.

“Hey.” A raspy female tone rings out obliviously before the screen was thrown open again. Without fanfare or pomp, it’s a surprisingly jarring entrance for Rainbow Dash who just awkwardly looks back and forth between your bed and Applejack’s as if not being sure which was the gallery. Trotting up, she goes to your side first, she reaches a hoof out to ruffle your hair. “How’s it goin’? I heard somepony took an explosion to the face then walked it off.”

“Yeah, I'm fine, just a concussion, or might be a concussion. You?”

“Yeah, like always.” She flips her forelocks from her face then blows the same offending hairs out of her eyes when her mane settles back the way it usually does. “Nothing permanent, right?” She stiffens some.

“Hmm, me? No. You sure you should be up here after all that?” She could still have an inner ear problem, and if that grounded her it could explain her whole guarded mein.

“Nah, took harder knocks from walking into doors at Sugarcube Corner. Tore a bit in my ear from somepony shouting down it, got sick and disoriented, so they stitched it up with some paper.” She shrugs her withers as if to say 'no big deal' and takes a half hopping flap back to skip five feet instead of walking. The downward wingstrokes neatly knock over Applejack’s glass of water and sends the hanging stetson tumbling to the ground. But it's purpose had been clear, 'I can still fly', so it was something else.

Rainbow winces apologetically and quickly skips over to pick up the hat in her mouth. She brushes it off then plops it on Applejack’s head, setting it straight then giving it a flick to tilt in a jaunty fashion. “You good, cow-belle?”

A sigh of mock irritation passes Applejack’s lips as she rights the hat to disguise the smirk, “Yeah, Rainbow, thirsty, but ah’m fine.”

There is still something wrong, nopony said a single thing about what actually happened. Well, not in the presence of anyone else and Applejack had skipped around that, too. Chewing on your lip while still stroking Rarity's mane you finally blurt out, “Alright, so then what was it?” The chorus of confused or sedate 'huh's are as clear as mud. Looking around as the lights buzz above you in their noisy fluorescent glow, you ask again, “That thing. The one that trashed the train. I saw something like it on a flag once, they called it a wyvern. So what is that to you?”

A soft dulcet voice speaks with evident surprise, “Well, a wyvern is a winged sea dragon. They tend to make their nests off chalk or limestone cliffs and settle in the small divots in underwater grottos. They’re common in Saddle Arabia and in some of the islands off of Horseshoe bay. I'm surprised that you haven't seen them, Rightly.” Glancing up at the ceiling and stroking her chin, Fluttershy had slipped in unnoticed.

She might have gotten you almost pegged down as a non-Saddle Arabian, but there is no time to worry about that. Even as she slips over to give you a quick hug and a low coo of sympathy you start, “It was sort of a rubbery grey colour, underbelly was a little lighter. It kind of had scales like an eel, strong forelegs, no hindlegs, just a long twisting tail. About as bulky as a train car overall. Oh, it had a sort of fin-like-crest with a few spines on its back. I had a shorter neck but a head as big as a pony with a mouth full of sharp teeth.” You partially mimic all of the characteristics.

“How many heads?” Fluttershy asks.

“Huh? Just one.”

“It could be a young hydra. Maybe a mountain hydra if it was grey, but if it smelled-”

“Like rotting leaves?” You cut her off and slowly nod. It was starting to come together.

“Like rotting leaves.” Fluttershy nods with a certain smile. “Hydra, almost certainly. Most are born with two heads, but more or less isn't impossible and some sprout more over the course of a typical hydra's life.”

Don’t hydra’s regenerate like trolls? Huh, convenient. If it’s just pretending to be a hydra, we’ll be even more alike.

You shrug, taking her at her word, “Alright, so we've got a hydra. We've also got Cloud Gremlins for whatever that's worth.”

“Yeah, that sounds like them if they've been snooping around.” The prismatic pony squints while making her way to the window. She rests her forehooves on the sill, but it’s nice having a pony who believes you. “I didn't see anything when me and Fluttershy were flying in. Saw the train, though-”

“And she rescued Applejack’s hat!” Pinkie hollers.

“Yeah, yeah I did. You owe me for that one bark-bumpkin.” A smarmy grin blossoms on her face as she flashes that grin at Applejack. Rainbow doesn't continue after that. She stands at the window, scratching her name in the frost coating on the sill. Meanwhile, Fluttershy's eyes find yours. They were partially worried, but they also say 'we need to talk'.

Is this going to be about my disintegrating cover story or was there something else?

“Now,” you start and sit up straight, “how do we get her?” Rarity and Pinkie both shuffle to get more comfortable, causing the springs of your bed to groan.

“Twi?” Applejack lofts a brow.

“Sapphire Shores.” But the snippy sarcasm fades away like morning dew and dissipates in moments. “Yes, Twilight. We need to have something of a plan.”

“So you know where she is?” Rainbow asks while still trotting up and down in one place. She drops into a wider aggressive stance with a snort, “What are we waiting for? We’ll go out and-”

“No,” you reply, which prompts the Pegasus to grumble, “but I think I can guess.” Something slowly occurs to you, moments ticking by as you ponder if it’s worthwhile to really mention all your dreams. Many of them could wait, but with a newfound grin you hear the calls.

“Well, for pony's sake, ye gonna tell us or sit there like a frog on a toadstool?”

“Oh, oh, a guess! Let me see, west, nope north, deeeefinitely nor-south! Yes, final answer, it's definitely east!”

You nod slowly, “You were right the first time, Pinkie. I have a feeling it'll be out west. It has some swamps and some mountains. Right? Cloud Gremlins-”

“Stay in cloud banks and other high-up spots where it's dark.” Rainbow finishes your sentence for you.

Giving her a snap of your fingers you beam, “Exactly.”

Pinkie voices an ‘ooo’ of amazement at the gesture. “Oh neat! Noooow I see why she likes them.” Pinkie lapses back into her musing phase. It is almost possible to see her thinking as she taps her hooves together with a sound not unlike the tick of a grandfather clock.

It doesn't stop your train of thought, in fact, its rhythmic meter helps you think. “I didn’t say it before because I couldn’t be sure, but I think I may have seen Ulf. I saw him for a moment during the attack, he was up in the clouds… and I just realized how ridiculous-”

“Storm barge.” Rainbow cuts you off.

“Huh?”

“Storm barges, they’re part mechanical and part meteorological. Cloud Gremlins use them for long distance traveling. Some have some gadgets and junk on them, but if a troll stood on the metal frame they should be fine.” Rainbow’s explanation is surprisingly helpful and forestalls any lingering doubt.

You smile in thanks, but try to keep it subtle enough that the Pegasus can’t croon about it. “Good to know. So we need maps, we need information on where things have been happening. Basically, we need a plan.” The direction given to the others, that straight confidence repaid to both Rainbow and Applejack, is rewarded in spades.

“Yee-haw! Now that's what ah'm talking about! If this is all related, then what’s next?” Applejack says as a grumbling clearing of the throat comes from a patient on the far side of her curtain. A patient that you promptly ignore as does everypony else.

“Alright, we'll need time to discuss and formulate everything. We need to make this into a single coherent plan then follow it. Kind of like a cake, if we don't get all the ingredients just right, it's going to fall apart, go sour, burn, or get too runny. So here's what we need....” you take a breath, most of it was bound to be spur of the moment, but you had a rough idea in mind.

Pointing at Fluttershy first, she makes a gasping creak and recoils like you just accused her of murder, “Fluttershy! We need maps, we also need to know all the patterns, traditional, and nontraditional stamping grounds of Hydras and Cloud Gremlins. We don’t want to be surprised. We also need maps of the west, particularly coastal regions and mountains. We don't need to go knocking on doors and asking everypony if they've got a Gremlin under their bed. Got it?” You smile as brightly as you can at her saying 'it's alright', which contrasts bitterly with your tone not two seconds ago. She mouths ‘Okay’. “Good, you should be able to find that out at the library, not too much of an issue.”

You turn to Rarity next, “Now, dear.” You wait for her to sniff and dab her mascara stained eyes. “We need to know every little detail on those cases related to the slayings. Use every connection you have, find out names, cutie marks, where they were found, where they lived, and where they were going. More than that, find out what ponies have gone missing. I need a fashionista's eye, I want everything. Every. Little. Detail.” Grinning through the haze of wallowing misery, she says nothing but mutely nods.

“Pinkie!” Hearing her turn come up, Pinkie rears her head and salutes. “Last time I left Canterlot, it was without a book, one I think we very well might need. Princess Celestia kept it but it could be anywhere. It's called an Anglo Saxon Primer... never mind, it's a green and white book with funny writing. I’ll draw it out for you.” You look through your night table, hoping to find something to write on. You growl a bit, finding absolutely nothing but a spare clip board. Thankfully that had a pencil attached by a length of string.

“Pinkie, chart.” You point at the hook at the end of the bed. Reaching over with her mouth she grabs the bundle of medical charts and tosses it to you like a frisbee. You catch it and rip off the second page before thinking and quickly writing down 'Sweets Anglo Saxon Primer 9th edition.' You hand it back to her. “It’s green and white. We can ask for it in our summons, but if Celestia doesn’t say anything then we’ll have to find it ourselves. So it might be in the archives. Get it. I don't care how, but for Twilight's sake, get it.”

“Yes, Sir!” Enthusiastic, happy, motivated: Pinkie’s bright confidence is a welcome addition.

The indignant Rainbow Dash starts, “Hey! What about-”

“Rainbow!” You cut her off and she perks her ears up. You bite your lip some, bracing for what came next even though it was starting to feel like a mistake, “I heard you played commander Hurricane in the Hearth's Warming pageant.”

“Huh?” She cocks her head to the side.

“You're running the whole operation as soon as it starts. You can fly the fastest, talk the fas-uh, second fastest, and see the most of anypony here. That means you'll be relaying messages and keeping an eye out for us. Everypony listen up: if Rainbow sees something and needs to make a call, it's hers to make. If she gives you a message or command, do it. She's our eyes, ears, and in a snap decision she makes the call. Rainbow Dash doesn't fail, not when somepony is on the line.” Her ego practically balloons and that cocky grin spreads to every corner of her muzzle. Head back, smirk full, eyes narrow, and feathers bristling, she looks as puffed up as a grouse.

“Applejack!” You call out at once. She smiles, almost worming in her seat. “You stay here and rest.”

That smile instantly disappears, “Uhhh, pard'n?”

This is going to require some tact.

“You're our quartermaster and logistics. It means I need a full list of everything we could need and I need a mare who knows exactly how to keep an eye on it. Nothing left to chance. Medical, mechanical, food, everything. We'll need you to be in charge of planning the actual route, too, and finding any possible rest stops along the way when we find out where we're heading. We all need your honest assessment of everything. You might be the muscle when it counts, but you've got more no-nonsense brains than the rest of us combined.”

Applejack slowly smiles and nods, “Sure as sunshine in summer time!”

“Umm- if you don't mind me asking. Where will you be, Rightly?” Fluttershy sweeps her hair back.

“I'm going to have to go and see to princess Celestia. Twilight w- is my guardian after all. So you've all thrown yourself at the door to be heard, I'm going to try it, too. Tell them what happened, send some help, just the usual things. It's important that they know...”

“Well, I was just there, and that’s what I wanted-”

The patter of feet catch your ear, not hooves but claws. It is no surprise to hear a puffing breath. You preempt him, “Hey, Spike, great timing. Listen I think we've got-” His nails scrape across the floor as he throws himself back against the door and darts in the curtain, genuinely out of breath.

“No time, the Royal Guard are already here! I tried to hold them off and get a message up, but I couldn't stall them very long.” He huffs and puffs, thick banded chest expanding as if he is going to have a heart attack. Sweat beads between scales and plates before dripping down as he must have sprinted up every flight of stairs from the ground level.

“The Guard is here?” It is an odd and foreboding statement, “Why?”

Spike simply produces a parchment bearing a blue and lavender wax seal, then a smaller number of white and gold tethered scrolls. “Princess Luna called for you immediately. Princess Celestia has been writing almost non-stop, but honestly, it stopped making sense this morning. She keeps asking for Twilight.” It isn't just a summons, not with the royal guard being called. It was an edict, the closest thing to an arrest. They would be here at any moment. You break the wax seal of Princess Luna’s solitary scroll and unroll it. The print is shockingly scrawled:

Thy dreams are thine own now, We I have little left to give. We I shall tend to our nightmares. My precious domain, gone in a reflection. We see a face not Our own, and now in Our mind’s eye it remains. He asks. Stronger than before, stronger than ever. Black clouds hang on the verge of night, and herald in a new morning.

I prattle, I apologize. Mind yourself, news travels with great haste. My sister knows, but wishes she did not, and chooses not to.
~Noctum Regina Princess Luna

“Which is what I was trying to tell you.” Fluttershy’s voice finally catches hold and draws your attention, “I was waiting for Princess Celestia all morning and afternoon, she’s been acting a little strangely and keeps asking for Twilight. She’s been told, but I don’t think she really knows.”

Tapping your teeth, you sweep your legs out of bed and give Spike a pat on the arm before getting dressed, “This doesn't change anything. We're still going to do exactly what we set out to do. Spike, I'll almost certainly need your help. Follow Pinkie and she'll fill you in on the de-”

The doors sweep open to the tune of heavy hoof beats and scraping metal plates. The curtain is swiftly drawn back, leaving you with a view of a dull blue wall, but more importantly and far more uncomfortably, four large stallions. Each is armoured in thick brassy plates and two at the door heft those deceptively deadly spears. “Rightly, ward of Princess Twilight Sparkle?” The lead guardpony’s voice resonates in the enclosure as you struggle to get dressed. Admittedly, it isn't really much of a question as you gulp down the answer, button up your pants, and grab your shirt.

“Come with us, you have been summoned by her Highness.” No doctor's sign off, no extra checks, the Princess summons and you must obey.

Comments

[KJay]

Whew. Did a bit o' binge reading there but all caught up now!