Chapter 77
After enduring the warnings, the lecture, the explanation that he had to be careful, Flicker was allowed to see Hennessy. The critical care unit was different than the wing where he and Piper were staying, this place had an eerie quiet that left him feeling unsettled. The lights were kept dim and the wing was dark. He and Piper had to wear padded paper booties on their hooves to keep the sound of their walking muffled.
The nurse leading them stopped at room one hundred and nineteen, then turned to face both Flicker and Piper. In a soft whisper, she said, “Seeing him will be a shock. Try to be brave. He has been selected for healing, but that will take time, what few healers there are, they are very overwhelmed at the moment. He is still critical, but stable enough to wait for a healer.”
“I understand.” Flicker’s voice had changed since the injury to his larynx, and he now spoke as though he was a middle aged stallion that sounded as though he lived on a diet of whiskey and black-paper cigars.
“Brace yourselves,” she said, offering a final warning as she pushed open the door.
Flicker managed to wait for all of two seconds or so, then he slipped past the nurse and went to Hennessy’s bedside. In the bed was an unrecognizable mess of bandages, some of them bloody. Flicker couldn’t see anything of his friend. He could feel his pounding heart creeping up into his throat, and he turned to face the nurse, who now stood beside him, looking sad, her ears drooping.
“He was stabbed so many times and shot with flaming arrows,” the nurse said to Flicker, her voice straining. “Still, he should recover, especially with magical healing. He’s also suffered extensive burns, and while we live in an era of amazing progress, burns are one area that we are woefully inadequate in treating.”
Closing his eyes, Flicker ground his teeth together, and he could feel them chipping, the painful electric tingles made the corners of his jaw ache. He felt a soft touch upon him, the nurse, and she had leaned into him, trying to comfort him. Much to his own surprise, he found himself pressing up against her, and his eyes burned with tears that refused to fall, little soldiers that refused to leave the fortress that was Flicker.
“Flicker, is that you?”
The voice was dry, crackly, like autumn leaves blowing on the wind or kindling beginning to burn in a fire. Flicker felt his ears go stiff, along with his spine, which made the whole back half of his body ignite in flames of nausea inducing agony. Forcing his eyes open, he pulled away from the nurse, fighting to stay upright, and he turned to face his friend and dear companion.
“Flicker… I think I saw that zebra you saw,” Hennessy said in a whisper that sounded like wrinkled sheets of newspaper being rubbed together. “She sang to me… she was nice. She played a banjo with her head-ropes.”
Confused, Flicker stood there, blinking, his heart throbbing in the narrow confines of his now parched throat. He needed a drink, something cool, something to numb the burning throb that threatened to choke him. Piper pressed up against his side, leaning against him, and his legs wobbled as he tried to hold both himself and his friend up.
“Hennessy,” Flicker somehow managed to say, but nothing else seemed to want to come out. The colt stood there, wanting to rage and finding he couldn’t. He became aware of the hollowness that existed inside of him, that great empty space that he feared.
“Piper, look after him, he don’t sound good.”
“I will, Henny, I will.”
“Good, I’m gonna go back to sleep now. I keep hearing crows cawing.”
The puzzling statement left Flicker baffled, and unable to say anything, he stood there, staring at his friend, wishing that he had something meaningful to say, perhaps some beautiful word, some bit of poetry, something that would bring Hennessy some comfort. But he was empty and there was nothing of beauty that could be found inside of his grey matter.
With Piper leaning against him and the nurse watching, Flicker stared while Hennessy drifted off into merciful sleep.
Returning to his own room, Flicker saw that he had guests waiting outside of his door, which surprised him. One older stallion and three young mares, all of them ponies that he knew. He made himself walk a little faster, eager to see them, and his hind hooves shuffled a bit, not wanting to keep up with his increased pace.
Night Light was armed, which caused Flicker some genuine shock. There was a bandoleer around the stallion’s body—from this hung a sword and a brace of what appeared to be antique pistols. The middle-aged blue stallion looked stern, hard-faced, and he hovered protectively over the three young mares, Sweetie Belle, Apple Bloom, and Scootaloo.
Sweetie Belle had a bouquet of white carnations held in her magic.
“Night Light,” Flicker gasped.
“Hello, Mister Nicker,” Night Light said in a soft voice. “You wanted to speak to these nice young mares, or so I heard, but then, I guess things happened.”
“They did.” Flicker felt his legs shaking, and he was relieved to see his guests.
“Hmm, let’s get you back into bed, little ones.” Night Light’s paternal tone left no room for argument, no means to protest. Scowling, he scooped up both Flicker and Piper in his magic, his eyes flashing with emotion, and offering no apologies, he pushed through the three young mares, taking Flicker and Piper into their now-shared room.
A second bed had been wheeled in during their absence, and a few more chairs as well, leaving the room crowded. Flicker lay in the bed, exhausted, having told the Cutie Mark Crusaders everything, getting it all off his chest, starting with Octavia’s concert, finding his faith with Princess Cadance, and battling Contagion. Feeling very tired, he let his head sink down into his pillow, and much to his own surprise, he was able to relax his guard.
Night Light looked as though he could take care of business, if trouble started.
“We’re all very sorry,” Sweetie Belle said while her eyes lingered on the white carnations now in the vase that all hospital rooms seemed to have. “Flicker, do you mind if I call you Flicker? Don’t give into your hate. Don’t fill that emptiness in you with hate. I can’t imagine what your cutie mark might be doing to you right now.”
“I’ve been struggling with it,” Flicker confessed.
“Normally, we tell ponies to follow their cutie marks.” Apple Bloom’s eyes traveled up the blanket and stopped on Flicker’s face. “You’ve given us a lot to think about, Flicker. I think for us, because we did so much to find our cutie marks, and we continue to do all kinds of stuff together as friends, it was easy for us to enrich our lives with meaningful activities. But for you, the guild was very rigid and you found yourself in a spot where you gave yourself over completely. I’ve been thinking about it a lot… a whole lot.”
“And now, with everything that’s happened”—Scootaloo paused and blinked a few times—“and with how your cutie mark has changed, I’m not sure what advice to give you. We want to continue to help you though. The only thing I feel right in telling you is, go with Love. I don’t think it will lead you astray.”
“Right now, I feel so much rage and hatred.” Flicker closed his eyes and ignored the throbbing in the middle of his spine.
“Well, your cutie mark has changed, so your feelings might have changed as well.” Apple Bloom leaned forwards in her seat, and her red, bloodshot eyes revealed her fatigue. “And even though your cutie mark has changed, you still have a choice. You don’t have to be consumed by it.”
“We came here to tell you that we’re going to be with you during your recovery from this.” Sweetie Belle, turning her head, smiled at Flicker and Piper.
“We’re gonna be with you, every step of the way,” Apple Bloom promised.
“Because we’ve made you our pet project and we’re probably going to write our doctoral thesis about you someday.” Scootaloo clapped her hooves together once and laughed, but became serious again when Apple Bloom scowled in her general direction.
Laying in her own bed, Piper groaned, her bed frame creaked, and she rolled over onto her other side. She had her eyes half open while she listened, but she had nothing to say. Now that she was rolled over, her eyes were upon Flicker, whose bed was beside hers. Wiggling until she was at the edge of her bed, she reached out, grabbed Flicker’s fetlock, and held it in her own.
“I’ve never lost anypony before,” Flicker admitted to everypony, “and I don’t know how to take this. I can just feel the rage, it hurts me. Doctor Sterling was… my… friend.”
Turning away, Night Light stared at the wall, focusing on nothing. “This has been a bad time. A lot of ponies died. I’ve lost somepony as well, and Flicker, you have to believe me when I say this, it isn’t worth it, giving yourself over to revenge for the dead. The living will need you more. The city of Canterlot needs a hero, not a psychopathic monster.”
“You lost somepony?” Flicker asked.
“I did,” Night Light replied, and he turned to look at the colt. “Rather than give into my own selfish desire for revenge, rather than neglect the living, I shall serve. Rather than curse the darkness, I shall light a candle.”
At these words, Flicker’s hardened mask broke completely, the fortress walls crumbled, and tears began streaming down his cheeks. The first sob escaped him, causing his barrel to hitch, and the sudden pain in his spine felt as though he was being stabbed again. Whimpering, the stabbing pain was too much to bear, and this only further brought down Flicker’s defenses.
Flicker wept.
It came out in pained gasps that almost choked him, and Piper crawled from her bed over to Flicker’s, pulling herself over the gap. Without meaning to, Flicker was a little rough when he grabbed Piper and drew her close. The Cutie Mark Crusaders all leaned against one another, silent, heads bowed, it was awful to watch a pony like Flicker cry.
For the first time in a long time, Flicker became a foal once more, and his emotions bled out from him. In the corner, where he stood, Night Light stood a silent vigil, also crying, the tears streaming down his cheeks and it was obvious to any observer that he was consumed by grief. His weeping did not make him any less observant though, because when the door opened, his jaw muscles tensed as he turned to look.
“Fox…” Night Light said the word with a relieved gasp.
Fox Populi stood in the door, a longsword held in his magic, a longsword that Flicker might have recognised, had Flicker been looking. The naked blade had no sheath, it was flawless, unmarred, and made from steel that had a faint blue tint to it. Fox remained in the doorway, his expression one of apologetic awkwardness.
“Fox, do come in, please.” Night Light, glad to see his friend, went over to greet him.
“I brought this,” Fox said, raising the sword a bit, mindful of the naked blade. “It was recovered after the battle.” The orange unicorn with white accents glanced at the blade he held, and then his eyes darted over to where Flicker’s weapons lay on the table, looking past Night Light. “The law states that you are entitled to have this, either of you, as you are the survivors of the battle.”
Flicker, still sobbing, looked up from where he lay, holding Piper.
“The blade is called Keen and it vanished quite some time ago. Over fifty years ago, actually.” Fox blinked and then his eyes focused on Flicker. “Mister Nicker, I know this is a very difficult time, and I don’t know how you feel about keeping the blade that killed Doctor Sterling.”
Now, it was Piper who looked up, and she remained clinging to Flicker, trembling.
“The sword isn’t evil, nor is it good,” Fox said to Flicker. “It is just a weapon. It isn’t silver-imbued, but it does have a keen edge.”
Holding Piper, Flicker had a hazy recollection of how the blade had chopped right through one of his swords. Staring, his sobs subsided a bit, and he could feel eyes upon him, the Cutie Mark Crusaders were all staring at him. The colt didn’t know what to say, or how to respond. Once again, he found his heart in his throat, and he recalled how the entire length of the blade had been rammed through Doctor Sterling.
“To the victor goes the spoils of war,” Night Light whispered while he stood near Fox. “And we are at war, make no mistake.”
“Yes, I know.” Fox looked pained. “I can’t stay. I am needed, there is fighting in the streets… the rats are acting quite chaotic, almost as if they no longer have leadership.” The orange unicorn paused, shook his head, and added, “I suppose that is a dangerous assumption to make, but that is how it feels. Perhaps I am looking for a reason to have hope.”
“Leave the blade,” Piper said to Fox, her barrel hitching and her voice halting.
“As you wish.” Fox bowed his head, levitated the blade over to the table, and laid it down. “Do be careful, this particular blade has an enchantment that greatly amplifies how much bleeding a wound does.”
“Fox…”
“Yes, Nighty?”
“Do be careful, Fox.”
“Understood, Sir.”
“Spare no mercy, Fox.”
“As requested, Sir.”
“And Fox…”
“Yes?”
“Mister Nicker will need a teacher if he is to use two blades with any sort of skill.”
“Understood, Sir.” Fox raised his hoof and slapped it against his chest, just below his neck.
“Fox, let the light be triumphant and ever-present.” And with these words, Night Light watched as Fox departed, backing out of the room, and heading out to do good. After several long seconds, Night Light added, “So long as we draw breath, the light shall remain triumphant. Isn’t that right, Mister Nicker?”
Unable to speak, Flicker nodded, and his eyes burned with grim resolve.
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This is heartbreaking!
So now he has 2 swords again, so soon after his own very expensive swords were destroyed. Slightly too convienient. You shouldn't go around showering him with new toys like this, narrative causality doesn't tolerate that without reprecussions. I don't think he's even used his blunderbuss or air gun yet...
8061912
Ah, assumptions.
You do realise there are more characters than Flicker, right?
8061913
I acknowledge that narrative causality doesn't tolerate assumptions either.
8061918
8061937
I kept count of the dagger as something which is not a sword, and I saw who it would go to when you said don't make assumptions. I recommend you delete this conversation, lets not ruin anything for those who don't nitpick.
8061960 Too late dammit.
A mentally and emotionally robust Flicker might be one of the most dangerous enemies of Grogar.
He needed this, they all did.
Heavy chapter Flicker finally broke one way giving into grief. Interesting development with the CMC they are learning things in direct contrast to what they grew up believing
8061960 Only one of his expensive unicorn swords was broken. Plus he has Sterling's sword I think? Damn now I have to go double check again.
Edit: yes he does have it.
8062138 This cutie mark upgrading, like Tarnish's as well, is also going to have to play into CMC's consideration, especially relevant to Skyreach now.
I for one am rather glad that I had ice cream out and ready for this chapter. It was needed.
8062206 have they studied it is a question.
8062303 Don't know. They need to maybe, but I don't know if they're are aware of Tarn's changes.
8062197
One sword broken, the other missing and gone.
Newsflash, it melted.
8062537 media.giphy.com/media/l2JeeYJfwVeDFEHAI/giphy.gif
Quite tough to read as well. Thank you for another great chapter
8062537
Must have ended up somewhere hot, then.
8061912
yeah but he lost alot for these toys. the guild sterling, who knows who else in canterlot may have been killed
I like the fact that you're not paining Cutie Marks as this infallible thing of pure good in your stories.
hmm, an adult nicker dual weilding keen and doctor sterlings rapier, and i imagine doing a justice with hearthfinder
Even rereading this a second time still brings tears to the edge of my eyes.
Well written good sir, well written.