Where Only Silver Shines

by Etyco Filly

A1 — Waning

Doctor Vitro took a step back. “So far so good,” she said, more to herself than me. “Pulse is faster and a lot stronger than last time. Almost normal for a filly her age.” After a content nod, she recorded it on the parchment and slate floating in her telekinesis.

She pointed towards one of the only parts of the white marble wall free of furniture. “Please stand over there, I wanna see if you’ve grown.” Vitro pulled a pencil out from her saddlebags. Once I was in place, she marked my height with her pencil. A few moments later, she measured it and scribbled the result. Again, she nodded. “Grown about two centimetres,” she mumbled, more to herself than me.

Leaving me no time to ponder, she gestured to the sofa. “Lie down, please. On your back.”

The first time I’d seen her, she had complained that my family did not have a proper physician’s room in our residence, and that she had to use a mundane guest room for when she treated me. Since then, Papa had provided her with additional equipment, stored in the various cabinets and drawers. Though likely far from good enough, it did halt her complaints.

I did as told, and mentally braced myself for the invasion of privacy that was about to befall unto me. She was a doctor, and was thus expected to perform examinations such as this one. Nothing in her demeanour indicated any indecent intent.

Still, I held no fondness for the procedure, especially considering her vexatious habit of mumbling her findings to herself, no matter how curt or unpleasant they might be. To my colossal relief, she merely glanced over my more private areas, commented about everything being in order, then moved on to my barrel.

“Incisions have scarred up nicely.” She wrote on the parchment. “Much faster than expected, actually, given the patient’s previous condition.”

Though four months had passed already since my last checkup, I understood her surprise. In my previous state, wounds like these would have needed years to merely close, let alone fully heal.

Content, Vitro moved up my body again, checking my chest’s fur for irregularities. Finally, she turned her attention to my head. Levitating out a glowing crystal from her pouch, she inspected each of my ears, then my eyes.

“Well then, Lady Fell. It seems the procedure has not only been a success, but the recovery equally so.” Her gleeful tone came more from the positive results of her experiment, and less from my recovery. This mare hardly ever cared about anything other than her personal research.

“So…” My voice was weak, full of hesitation. I had already known I was doing better. I could feel it throughout my body. Movement was easier, fatigue only came towards the end of a day, and my appetite had reached new heights. Yet I was so deathly afraid of her answer to my next question. “Does that mean I will one day be well enough to travel?”

Vitro grimaced and shook her head, then furrowed her brow as she looked at the ceiling. She let her gaze wander for a moment before letting out a “huh” as she stared past me. She bit her lip, then made a popping sound with her mouth.

Finally, after drawing out her reflection for much longer than necessary, she shrugged. “I doubt it, but I could be wrong. As far as I know, there’s a fifty-fifty chance of you dying in the first month. But after that? Who knows how well your body would adapt. The treatment for fibrodysplasia ossificans progressiva already weakened you quite a tad, and I have no idea how you’d react to the outside’s… what’s the word—” she gestured at the air in the room “—thing. You know what I mean. Anyway, your body doesn’t know how to deal with it, so it’s all unknown.”

Even after it was cured, this disease still held a grip of iron on my life. I was no longer turning to bone, but I still would never be able to leave the family estate. What good was there in that?

Oh, I had stopped listening to Vitro. I forced my attention back towards chaotic speech. “…But maybe you’ll only need a few days to adapt.” She narrowed her eyes and hesitated for a moment before adding, “Of course, should you insist on trying anyway, and should your family allow it, I will be there all the way with you.”

Taking notes, no doubt.

I did not vocalise that comment. “I see,” I replied as evenly as I could. Again, the answer did not really surprise me, and it ought not to. I would have been a foal to believe my life held any chance at freedom. Any chance of getting out of this miserable residence and seeing even a fraction of the world. Of living even half the life of a normal pony. Of finding love, of sleeping under the stars.

Really, there was no reason for me to be on the edge of tears. The life I had read about in so many books would remain outside my grasp, forever inaccessible.

But I knew that already; I had no reason to feel upset. I thanked the doctor for her work and left the guest room. It took everything I had not to tear up on the way to my room, even though nopony would have seen me.

---

I lay on my bed, levitating a book in front of me. I had been reading for the past hour, but my mind wandered. Though my eyes followed the words, I hardly paid attention to their meaning.

The previous chapter had left off on a high note, but the narration had since returned to the slow pace permeating the story. Far from dull, it no longer held my attention, for my mind veered deep into the realm of fantasy.

The reason for my daydream was none other than the book itself. A beautiful romance was burgeoning between the Captain of the Guard and her servant, and the previous chapter had nudged their relationship further towards its realisation.

My thoughts roaming free, I wondered about my own life. Who would I be, had I not been born into this dreadful house? A noble family’s loyal guard? Maybe a sell-sword, accepting any work so long as the pay was right, only to be convinced to live a normal life, after meeting the perfect stallion.

Or a pirate, sailing the world and discovering the ancient, lost continent. Perhaps the word explorer would be more apt, in such a case. Archeology, too, was a purpose to which I might have dedicated my soul.

Though, my de facto skill set would have made me into a formidable author. Perchance I could have written as I adventured? However, my talent for magic undeniable, I could also envision life as a powerful sorceress, one who shaped the world to gain ponies’ respect and trust.

Reality was as harsh as it was inevitable. I was little more than a sickly noble of a fallen family, my dreams mere delusions, my only sane aspiration to assume my role as their leader. It would be my duty to restore House Fell; hardly an exciting or alluring concept, albeit better than rotting away without purpose.

Lack of passion notwithstanding, this goal was well without my grasp. Papa wouldn’t allow it, insisting I remain sheltered for as long as he could enforce it.

Oh, what I’d give to live in a different time. Serving the mythical princesses of the lost continent… I wouldn’t need any sort of adventures, content with even mundane jobs in such a bright and colourful world. The wonders of being able to read on a hill during a bright and sunny afternoon. What I would give to see the sun, if only once.

Even that hope was far beyond me; achieving it would be naught but fantasy.

Surely, a mere departure from my routine of reading, sleeping, and studying would be enough to fulfil me. Anything to make my life more exciting, to make it less a burden, would make me happy. Anything at all to give me a reason to push on.

I let out a long, drawn-out sigh. Was there a point to lamenting how pathetic my life was? Hardly; nothing within my ability could resolve that problem. Or maybe… maybe there was some spell that could mend me. There had to be a way to be rid of this mortal shell and live my life as I pleased, with no regard for health or bodily limits.

I shook my head. No, those weren’t good thoughts. Immortality, as attractive as it may be, is a curse, for it leads only to fates far worse than death. Magic of this kind only brings ruin in its wake.

Though perhaps it was worth it. I had nothing to lose and everything to gain. I was not living, only surviving; even undeath would be better than no life at all.

Was my life truly hopeless enough to warrant such permanent measures?

No… No, it wasn’t. I was young, charming, and attractive, and a noble at that. In fiction that would make me the protagonist, or at the very least an important character.

I could not let myself wallow in pity like this. The Tower itself was gargantuan and ripe with mystery. For though I believed it mundane, it was anything but. I merely had to step out into the unknown, into the dark. Not even the longest of books could possibly detail all the secrets that it held. It was a dangerous place, full of adventure.

Maybe I could rescue a handsome servant from a horrible fate, and have a secret relationship with him. Oh, the mere thought sent my heart aflutter.

I would fill the void in my heart, one way or another.

Tomorrow, I would explore The Tower.

Author's Note:

Originally, these were two chapters. They were merged after I deleted the old prologue.

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