Chapters Sun filtered through the windows, striking Monkey Wrench’s face and waking the yellow pegasus from her slumber. The pain in her back, radiating from her bandaged wings, throbbed dully as she brushed a lock of her red mane out of her eyes and looked around the hospital room. Instead of clouds as she’d expected from the last time she’d woken, there were the ornate structures of a land-based structure, and she could see the spires of a castle out the window. Her expression turns from curious to confused just in time for a grey unicorn with a blue mane and tail to enter the room. Her horn was glowing with pale blue light which also surrounded a clipboard and pen hovering before her, and she wore a white doctor’s coat.
“Good afternoon, Monkey Wrench. My name is Witching Hour and you’re at the hospital in the Canterlot. I requested your transfer from Cloudsdale Hospital,” the unicorn explained as the clipboard floats over to Monkey Wrench’s bed and hung on a hook for it there. “I’m certain you have questions regarding that…” she added with a smile to her patient.
Struck dumb by Witching Hour’s introduction, Monkey Wrench nodded then cleared her throat in an attempt to start speaking. It hurt, likely from disuse and being parched. Obligingly, Witching Hour anticipated the pegasus’ need, and a glass of water was floated over to Monkey Wrench’s hooves and gratefully accepted.
After a long gulp from the glass, Monkey Wrench sighs in relief. “Thanks… But… Why did you request the transfer? Why did they grant it?” she asked as Witching Hour moved to take a seat next to the bed.
“Because I believe I can help you… And they saw my argument to that point as convincing,” she explained patiently with a smile. Immediately, Monkey Wrench’s expression turned dark and hopeless, glancing over her shoulder at the bandaged appendages on her back.
“No one can help these,” she said, her voice sure and sad. “I’m not flying anymore.”
Witching Hour shook her head, seeming to be equally sure of herself. “I can , Miss Wrench, and you will ” she replied firmly. “I may not be able to fix them completely, just as I’m sure your previous doctors told you, but I will get you flying again.”
Witching Hour’s voice was so firm and sure that Monkey Wrench felt a spark of hope come to life in her heart. Flying and fixing things were her two great passions; of course, the latter had lead to the loss of the former. The spark flickered, almost fading before the pegasus desperately grasped it in her mind… The thought of soaring high in the clouds strengthened the faint glimmer.
“Will you let me show you how I intend to?” Witching Hour asked after a long moment of watching Monkey Wrench with patient blue eyes, breaking the pegasus out of her reverie. Wordlessly, she nodded to her doctor.
Immediately upon seeing the nod, a smile broke across Witching Hour’s face and her horn lit up again as several pieces of paper popped into existence in the room. She summoned a tray to her, laying the papers out. “Here’s what I propose…”
Witching Hour sighed as she left Canterlot General Hospital at the end of the day. Despite the assured front she’d presented to Monkey Wrench, she wasn’t nearly as confident as she sounded as regards the procedure she had proposed. Her theories were sound, but putting them into practice was another matter entirely.
She came back from her thoughts as she realized where her steps had taken her as opposed to her original destination of her own home; the Palace. A half-relieved smile crossed her face as she went up through the gates, passing by guards without being questioned as to her purpose. Her gray hooves took her through the familiar halls up to a tower and she rapped gently on the door to the balcony.
“Princess Luna?” she called out tentatively after knocking. The door opened so quickly after her query that Witching Hour blinked in surprise for a moment before heeding the Princess’ wish that she join her at her watch.
“What troubles you, my student?” Luna asked without any preamble as she raised the moon into the dimming sky. Witching Hour gave her mentor a sheepish grin, blushing slightly at being called out for her visit so quickly. Witching Hour’s healing talents could only be taught by the doctors at the Hospital as it was far from the Princess of the Night’s area of expertise, so Luna was distant, but attentive mentor to the young unicorn… And Luna always seemed to know when she needed to check on Witching Hour… Like now.
“I’m not sure it’ll work… The healing spell for Monkey Wrench,” she replied, her voice quiet and worried. “She’s so fragile right now… If it doesn’t work, it’d crush her more than the accident did…” Witching Hour went on. “I don’t want to see that hopeless expression on her face again…” she concluded with a sigh as she leaned against the railing.
She heard more than saw Luna come to stand beside her, so she wasn’t startled when Luna put a hoof at her shoulder. “Witching Hour… There’s only one limit to the magic we can perform… Do you know what that is?” Luna asked, her voice both serious and gentle.
Witching Hour turned to her mentor with a slightly confused expression as she shook her head. “There are lots of limits…” She opened her mouth again to start listing them but fell silent when Luna shook her head.
“No, my hopeful student… There is only one… And that is our will to see it succeed…” the princess said firmly, meeting Witching Hour’s eyes seriously. “If you have any doubt, no sound theory nor research will make it happen.”
Witching Hour stared at her mentor silently, her mind trying to work around Luna’s words. Luna gave her student a soft smile of understanding. “I suggest you get a good night’s sleep, Witching Hour. You have an important day tomorrow.”
Taking her dismissal, Witching Hour gave Luna a shaky, thankful smile. “Good night, Princess Luna,” she replied softly, then she turns and departs, heading back to her home near the hospital.
Luna sighed as she watched Witching Hour depart the castle grounds from her high vantage point, her own uncertainty becoming clear. It hadn’t been that long ago that her sister had started suggesting, with increasing strength, that she should take on a student of her own. Luna had put it off for some time, insisting she wasn’t yet acclimated to the new Equestria that Celestia had built without her…
“Stop thinking about that,” she muttered to herself, shoving the feelings of regret and failure back into the recesses of her mind. She knew quite well that dwelling on such problems would serve no purpose.
It had been Witching Hour’s unfailing optimism that had drawn Luna to her. The daughter of a well-respected earth pony herbalist and a unicorn brewer, Witching Hour took her father’s herb lore and combined it with her mother’s distillery skills to new levels of understanding and healing. Even seeing ponies on their worst days did not dim the bright hope that radiated from the unicorn filly, pushing limits but only after finding sufficient reason they could be pushed.
Hope was so integral to dreams, Luna had decided, so Witching Hour became her primary candidate in Luna’s mind. Indirectly, as was the Princess of the Night’s norm, Luna looked into the young unicorn. Witching Hour had a few acquaintances she accepted as peers, but otherwise devoted most of her attention to her patients. In the end, it was the striking similarity in temperament, but also the untapped magical potential in her inspirational abilities, that sealed Luna’s decision to select Witching Hour as her student.
Despite her confidence in her choice, Luna put off doing so until after Twilight Sparkle’s ascension. Part of her still hesitated, and wanted to see exactly how Celestia handled her student… She fleetingly recalled her sister saying something about how when the Crystal Empire is filled with hope and love, those are then reflected across Equestria. Again, Luna shook her head to dispel those thoughts. Those thoughts too served no use… If Witching Hour were meant to join Cadence in ruling the Crystal Empire, then that too would become clear without speculating on it.
The moon now risen, Luna turned to the other aspect of her duties; dreams. This was the main reason Luna had sent Witching Hour away with only vague answers and assurances. In the dreaming, Luna was far more capable of advising, and she was certain that Witching Hour’s dreams would be troubled.
Sure enough, her student was caught in a nightmare of failure. Witching Hour was horrified and pleading with her patient, Monkey Wrench, to not give up, but the light had gone from the pegasus’ green eyes and the battered remains of her yellow wings hung limply at her sides as Monkey Wrench walked through the doors of the hospital room into a bright light and vanished. Soon after, Witching Hour was surrounded by the patients she’d not been able to help - or those she’d inadvertently hurt in her experiments - and their families, a cacophony of their accusations echoing through the room. Her previous failures haunted Witching Hour, and even an image of Luna herself voicing her disappointment forced her into a small ball on the cold stone floor, her grey body shuddering from her whimpers.
“I just wanted to help…” Witching Hour sobbed quietly, not even looking up as a sudden wind and light dispersed the crowd of tormentors.
“Witching Hour…” Luna said, finally garnering the unicorn’s tearful attention. Watery blue eyes stared up at the princess incredulously for a moment before Witching Hour ran into Luna’s chest, sobbing.
“I don’t want to let her down! I don’t want to let you down!” she cried, hiding her face against Luna’s shoulder. Gently, Luna’s wing came to rest around Witching Hour’s shoulders, letting her cry a little while longer before drawing back a step and forcing her student to meet her gaze.
“Witching Hour, why in Equestria would you think you would disappoint me?” Luna asked softly, a reassuring smile twitching into place. Witching Hour cringed and looked away, sniffling as some wayward tears still leaked from her eyes to softly fall upon the floor.
“I- I-” she stammered, “I can’t heal everypony I see to… Even when the treatment should work, it fails… And they blame me for it…”
“And you blame yourself as well, don’t you, my hopeful student…” Luna stated gently, reaching out with a hoof to bring Witching Hour’s face back to look at her. Sniffling again, Witching Hour nodded, trying to hold back a fresh wave of tears.
“Don’t…” Luna said firmly, making Witching Hour blink, her confusion stymying her tears for a moment. “Don’t blame yourself. None can save everypony that comes to them… Not even my sister and I… Those you’ve let down may hold ill will but think of those you have helped, those you have saved…”
On Luna’s cue, the hospital room fills with all the ponies Witching Hour had healed: young and old, rich and poor; unicorn, pegasus and earth pony alike. All smiled and, instead of the discordant bombardment from her perceived failures, each said a few small but heartfelt words in turn.
“You have such hope for the future, my young student… But you must also have the will to achieve those hopes…” Luna continued. “The only true failure is one you do not learn from, Witching Hour… And each time you could not help one pony, you used that knowledge to help another. As long as you continue to do so, you will never truly fail.”
“But what about Miss Monkey Wrench?” Witching Hour asked, her tears now gone, replaced by a worried and fretful expression. Despite Luna now having control of the dream, the yellow pegasus with heavily bandaged wings appeared in the hospital bed. Witching Hour looked at her patient, who seemed to be staring contemplatively out the window into the moonlit night and oblivious to the pair watching her.
“There is always a chance of not succeeding, young Witching Hour… But the only time we have truly failed is when we stop trying out of fear of losing… When we lose our hope, we truly have nothing left,” Luna said softly. “You still don’t see how you revive the hope in those who thought they had none…”
The scene reversed at Luna’s silent command, only stopping when Witching Hour as she’d appeared in the room before entered with her clipboard. The scene played briefly, stopping at the moment after Witching Hour had insisted that Monkey Wrench would fly again. “Look closely at your patient, my student… Look in her eyes… And tell me what you see,” the princess suggested with only a hint of firm command. Heeding her mentor’s words, Witching Hour approached the bed, peering at her patient’s dark green eyes.
Just moments before, those eyes had had been virtually lifeless, caught in the grip of despair that she would no longer fly, stripped of what defined her as a pegasus. Now though, after hearing Witching Hour’s firm assurance that she would fly again, Monkey Wrench’s eyes held just a small glimmer of life - not a large one and nowhere near enough to say she believed her doctor completely. It was as if Monkey Wrench dared not -
“Hope?” Witching Hour murmured in quiet surprise before looking back at Luna for confirmation. Her mentor merely smiled, beckoning Witching Hour back to face her.
“Hope,” Luna confirmed. “Even if you cannot do as you say and help Monkey Wrench fly again, she will know you tried. And if possible, you will learn from the failure, try again, and perhaps succeed. I do not call you my hopeful student because you have hope for yourself… I call you hopeful because you have hope for others, and give it to them freely. Do you understand now?”
Witching Hour’s response was almost too quiet to be heard; “I do, Princess Luna… I do…” Luna smiled down at her before lightly pressing her muzzle to Witching Hour’s forehead, just below her horn.
“Dream of success, my student…” Luna said quietly near the unicorn’s ear, before all faded into the dark of slumber.
When Witching Hour arrived at the hospital the next day, wearing a fresh lab coat and blue framed glasses, Monkey Wrench was already sitting up in bed, seemingly waiting for her, but her gaze didn’t turn to the healing pony, remaining fixed on the view provided by the window.
“Do you really think it’ll work?” Monkey Wrench asked, still not moving her eyes from the view of Canterlot’s skies.
“Would you rather live without me trying?” Witching Hour asked in reply. Her tone was gentle in its honesty, but still caused the pegasus to whip around on the bed to fix the unicorn doctor with piercing green stare. After a long moment of silence, one of Wrench’s red eyebrows arched upward, as though prompting Witching Hour to reply. Witching Hour simply mirrored the expression back at her patient.
Another long moment of silence passed between them, but unexpectedly, Monkey Wrench snorted before quickly covering her mouth and averting her eyes. The whole of her yellow body started shaking before it could no longer continue to do so and the pegasus let out a soft chortle which gradually grew into full on laughter. Despite trying to maintain her calm and professional composure, Witching Hour felt the corners of her mouth twitching upwards at her patient’s response.
“Are you kidding ?! I’d rather die than not try!” Monkey Wrench finally answered after a long and hearty laugh, making a small snort of amusement escape Witching Hour’s mask of professionalism.
“Good,” Witching Hour responded, taking her seat near the bed again. “But I want you to know… This has never been done before and-” And she was suddenly cut off by Monkey Wrench shushing her irritably with a hoof pressed to the unicorn’s muzzle.
“Stop it. I don’t wanna know… All I know is that a pegasus with lamed wings is no pegasus, and I’m a Gods. Damned. Pegasus,” Monkey Wrench stated firmly, leaving Witching Hour stunned and thoughtful.
‘Do I really do this to everyone I try to help? ’ Witching Hour asked in her own mind, awed. Monkey Wrench finally removed her hoof from over her doctor’s mouth, allowing her to speak… but then words ran away from the unicorn, leaving her mouth working with no sound coming out. She sighed heavily before clearing her throat, and finally managed to formulate a coherent sentence.
“I’m glad you feel that way… I just hope you feel the same if this doesn’t work…” Witching Hour said firmly, but her voice gave away some of her fear at the end of it. Monkey Wrench merely sighed at her.
“Look… If we don’t do this, we’ll never know if it’ll work… I may have been the worst accident in recent memory at the Weather Factory, but I’ve heard enough stories to know that if this sort of thing can be pulled off, it’d make a lot of future accidents less… identity shattering…” Monkey Wrench sighed again, crossing her arms over her chest. “If not me, who else would you test this on?”
Witching Hour smiled shakily at Monkey Wrench, acknowledging the truth of the pegasus’ words while still reeling a bit when Monkey Wrench said almost exactly what Luna had the night before. Monkey Wrench smiled back at her, unfolding her arms and putting hoof on Witching Hour’s shoulder.
“You’re giving me a chance to fly again…” Monkey Wrench started softly, her gaze returning to the window. “I’ve loved my work as much as I love flying… I could still work, but it would be hollow without flying… I don’t want the pity that working with these…” she moved slightly, shifting her bandaged wings as much as the mauled limbs would allow her to without pain as she looked back at them over her shoulder, “would get me…” she finished, her green eyes narrowed in a mix of sadness and frustration.
Witching Hour could only nod, her heart going out to the pegasus. She could only imagine what she spoke of. There were medical practices to help earth ponies overcome bad legs, even unicorns with badly damaged horns… But a pegasus’ wings? Something so fragile, yet strong enough to bear the race aloft? There were treatments for strains, sprains, and dislocations - even simple breaks - but nothing for something so maimed.
Unless her new spell worked…
“I’m not the greatest flyer… I always preferred fixing things or figuring out problems… But without flying, what am I?” Monkey Wrench asked, more rhetorically than anything else. She returned her gaze back to Witching Hour. More than ever, the unicorn felt desire to help her patient, to succeed even though there was no precedent. She reached out and put a gray hoof on Monkey Wrench’s shoulder.
“That’s why I’m here, Miss Wrench,” Witching Hour said quietly. “I wish I knew the outcome of this spell… I wish I could say without a doubt that I’ll succeed and see you flying again… but I can’t. All I have is hope that I will… A well-founded hope, but hope nevertheless…” she continued, pulling her glasses off and tucking them into a pocket of her lab coat with her magic. She met Monkey Wrench’s eyes with an earnest blue-eyed gaze. She felt her heart swell as she saw the light grow instead of shrink in the pegasus’ eyes.
“I know,” Monkey Wrench replied simply. “But it’s more than I could have expected back in Cloudsdale…” she added, smiling slightly at the unicorn, making a small echoing smile appear on her doctor’s face. Her blue eyes flick to the clock in the room, noting that it was time to go.
“Well... Let’s get to it then…” Witching Hour says as her horn gives off a brief blue glow to press a button near the door. Soon, a pair of nurses arrive with a stretcher to transport Monkey Wrench to the procedure room.
The trip there is mostly silent, broken only by the rattling of the stretcher. Right before entering the pre-op rooms, Monkey Wrench grabs at Witching Hour’s shoulder before they could part ways. “Doctor Witching Hour? I just want you to know… Whatever happens…”
Witching Hour smiled at her patient, no small amount of relief in her eyes. “I know, Miss Wrench… Thank you,” she says, gaining an understanding smile in return and a nod from Monkey Wrench. She did know, without needing Monkey Wrench to say it. No matter what the outcome of today’s experiment, even if the pegasus couldn’t fly as she had or at all, Witching Hour had helped Monkey Wrench.
Witching Hour’s horn flared with magic once more, the glacial blue aura surrounding Monkey Wrench. The pegasus’ eyes drooped and closed, now in a peaceful and numbed slumber.
Witching Hour sighed as she entered the pre-op room, noting a green unicorn with silvery-yellow mane already in the room. Deciding something on the fly, Witching Hour summons her notepad from a pocket - a dark blue cover and her cutie mark (a black silhouette flying across a full golden moon upon a broom) on it, varied only slightly as a crescent of the moon was stark white as it had been a gift from Princess Luna - and levitates it over to the stranger. “I hope this isn’t an inconvenience, but I would like it if you could stay to observe the spell and take notes for me. I’m going to be rather occupied with the casting, and since it’s a new spell, I need to have documentation to either tell me where it went wrong, or how to do it again,” she requested, bowing her head slightly.
“I would love to stay and observe, Doctor Witching Hour,” the unicorn replied, smiling brightly. “I’d hoped I would be able to see the spell that required crystal iron and could possibly restore a pegasus’ wings,” she continued. “I’m Doctor Emerald Charmer, from the Crystal Empire…” she finished, finally giving Witching Hour a name to put with her face, as her green magical halo took the offered notepad.
“Thank you very much, Emerald Charmer,” Witching Hour responded, releasing her magic from the notepad. “Oh… The magical halation might get rather bright , so if you can find some protective eyewear, it would protect your sight…”
“So I won’t get blinded and be unable to take notes?” Emerald Charmer suggested before nodding. “Good idea. I’ll do that now.”
Entering the procedure room after passing through the sterilization magic screen, Witching Hour cast a glance around to see if all her materials were in place. She breathed a sigh of relief upon seeing that Princess Luna had come through for her and sent the crystal-iron she needed for this spell to work from Princess Cadence. Obvious to her now, Emerald Charmer had been the one to deliver the precious ore to Canterlot. Witching Hour made a mental note to thank her for that afterwards.
The nurses - one a green-maned brown earth pony named Natural Remedy and the other a gray-maned pink unicorn named Poppy Field, both of whom regularly worked with Witching Hour - soon joined her in the room with Monkey Wrench and began gingerly removing the bandages from the mangled wings. Witching Hour couldn’t help but cringe at their state. Seeing pictures of the damage had not prepared her for the stark reality. Most of the yellow primary and secondary feathers were stripped away, leaving only the covert feathers. Where the secondary feathers were missing, she could see severe damage to the ulna, radius and humerus. She knew the long tendon was still in tact (miraculously), and the muscles were only torn, not ruptured.
A third nurse arrived with a box containing the wing feathers that had been salvaged from the accident and Cloudsdale General’s attempts to fix the damage and set the box on a tray before departing quickly. Witching Hour had needed as much of the ‘original’ wings as possible so the wings would remain natural to Monkey Wrench, so that, too, was a necessary component.
Once the nurses backed away from Monkey Wrench, and Emerald Charmer joined them and took a seat close by, Witching Hour stood next to the operating table with the crystal iron on a tray to her left, and the box of feathers on another tray to her right. She nervously nudged her glasses further up on her nose before taking a shaky breath and closing her eyes. The pale blue light from her horn surrounded her and the materials, floating the crystal iron and feathers to hover over Monkey Wrench’s lax wings. In her mind’s eye, as though seeing through the magic, Witching Hour envisioned the end result - wings that were still fairly normal, but the edges lined with the crystal iron, replacing the mangled bones.
Witching Hour’s eyes snap open, glowing with the same pale blue as her magic so that her irises were completely obscured, and the light in the room flared to almost blinding brightness as the feathers and crystal iron moved together as the magic bid.
Emerald Charmer quickly put on protective shades, allowing her to watch and take notes on the process. She almost forgot to take notes as she caught sight of the crystal iron being shaped like clay in the magic’s grip. Sent from the Crystal Empire’s own hospital to deliver the ore, and then tapped to observe, Emerald Charmer watched with awe as the feathers slid back into place, stuck into the crystal iron coating the wings. The ore took on an inexplicable green sheen, clearly visible along the front edges of the wing. Her own pen flew across the notepad, mentally dictating the notes through her own magical aura, a mere candle compared to the sun-like radiance that Witching Hour gave off.
The magic finally faded, retreating back into Witching Hour’s horn. The grey unicorn slumped down, breathing hard as her eyes closed. The other two nurses returned and went about checking Monkey Wrench’s wings and heartbeat. Feebly, Witching Hour opened her eyes a narrow slit, working through the magical exhaustion to see the results of her experimental spell. Through bleary eyes, she made out the restored shape of Monkey Wrench’s wings, noting the crystalline structure forming the front edges.
The corners of her mouth twitched upwards in a smile of pleased accomplishment as Emerald Charmer approached her cautiously, notepad and pen held in her green halo of power. “That was quite impressive, Doctor Witching Hour!” Emerald Charmer exclaimed, pleasure clear in her voice. “I’m honored you asked me to stay and take notes!” she added, floating the notepad over to Witching Hour while her pen was placed in a pocket of her own lab coat. Witching Hour saw her notepad, and smiled in relief.
“Thank you for that, Emerald Charmer… and for presumably delivering the crystal-iron as well,” Witching Hour said wearily.
The magic faded away, and Witching Hour took the notepad in her own hooves, flipping through to the pages where Emerald Charmer started writing. “It was no trouble. The Crystal Empire hospital keeps a stock on hand for our own purposes…” Emerald Charmer hesitated briefly before continuing. “I hope you’ll forgive me, Doctor, but I went through your notations on the spell before the procedure, and your work is inspirational to say the least,” she beamed in praise, causing Witching Hour’s face to heat unpleasantly in embarrassment.
“I-... I just followed the theories…” she stammered, giving the nod to the nurses to take the sleeping Monkey Wrench back to her room. As they wheeled the patient from the room, Emerald Chaser shook her head at her colleague.
“I’m afraid I have to disagree, Doctor. In the Empire, we use the crystal iron to make bone replacements, no doubt, but we don’t have many pegasi,” the green unicorn said firmly. “There was no reason to believe that the ore would help restore bones so badly damaged - let alone a pegasus’ wings! And the way your magic worked with it… Did you see the patient’s wings before the nurses left with her? Clearly, Princess Luna has chosen her student quite well!”
At the end of Emerald Charmer’s impassioned speech, Witching Hour’s face and neck were burning from the heat of her blood gathering in her skin. Witching Hour was certain her coat had been seared red in her self-effacement. She stammered a thanks to Emerald Charmer, before quickly excusing herself and galloping from the room.
She barely made it to Monkey Wrench’s room before the exhaustion from the intense spellwork caught up her again. Cautiously, she entered, unwilling to wake the pegasus if she were still out. The spell was a handy one she’d picked up working at the hospital, and made delicate procedures (though more often not magic related) easier. It wore off sooner or later, and generally left the patients feeling refreshed mentally - even if their bodies still needed more time to recover.
Witching Hour hesitated just as the room opened up, seeing her patient stirring out of her magically induced slumber. “Doctor Witching Hour?” Monkey Wrench queried sleepily, barely managing to lift her head from her pillow and blinking tired green eyes at the doorway. Heaving a tired sigh, Witching Hour stepped further into the room, her steps slow to keep the appearance of any fatigue from Monkey Wrench.
“I’m here, Miss Wrench…” she responded upon making it to the stool next to the bed.
Monkey Wrench smiled at the unicorn as her eyes drifted closed and her head fell gently back onto the pillow. “Good… I’m glad it’s you…”
Despite the weariness that now seeped into her very bones, Witching Hour smiled back and leaned against the bed, resting her head next to Monkey Wrench’s forehoof. “I’m glad to be here…” she replied softly, and in spite of her best efforts, Witching Hour joined her patient in sleep.
The combination of sunlight streaming in the window, the scratching of a pen against the paper and the flipping of pages roused Monkey Wrench from her sleep. She blinked multiple times in quick succession to clear her vision, turning to where the sound came from and seeing Witching Hour engrossed with her notes, cobalt blue frames perched on the end of her nose and only occasionally glancing up to take note some new tidbit of information. Monkey Wrench herself was amazed at how well she felt; no pain, only some slight stiffness in her wing joints.
She smirked and gave her wings a light flutter, serving the dual purpose of working out a few of the knots from stiffened muscles and startling Witching Hour out of her reverie. A full blown snort escaped her as Witching Hour made a squawking noise and fell off her chair, the notepad and pen clattering to the floor after her. Despite her embarrassment, Witching Hour chuckles as well, joining Monkey Wrench’s guffaws.
After a long and much needed laugh, Monkey Wrench peered over her shoulders at her wings. She blinked again, surprised at how normal they looked in shape, but the bony edge was replaced with green crystal that glittered in the morning light. She’d seen ponies native to the Crystal Empire while around their home, and the effect was similar… She looked back to Witching Hour, confusion on her face and the question clear in her eyes.
“The crystal iron I used for the spell… the effect was unexpected, but your wings look to be in perfect shape now… Whether they’ll function normally is still in question, but -” Witching Hour started, but Monkey Wrench cut the unicorn off by jumping up and out of the bed, the hospital robe fluttering around her from the sudden movement.
“Well what are we waiting for? Let’s find out!” Monkey Wrench proclaimed, nudging Witching Hour up and towards the door. The gray mare squeaked in protest but managed to get herself composed before Monkey Wrench had pushed her entirely from the room.
“Alright, alright! But policy says that you need to be in a wheelchair,” she said, to Monkey Wrench’s dismay. She was firm against the pegasus’ protests, and soon enough, she was wheeling Monkey Wrench down to the first floor physical therapy center of the hospital. Given the early hour, only a few out-patient appointments were there - an earth pony working on regaining the use of his hind legs with the help of a walker, another learning to walk with a prosthetic forehoof, and a unicorn colt attempting to cope and use magic with a crooked horn.
Monkey Wrench eyed the foal, a pang of sympathy running through her. If the state of her wings made her identity, then a unicorn’s horn being deformed was just as bad. Witching Hour followed her patient’s eyes and spied the colt as well. “That’s Trick Step… He was born with the bend in his horn. I’m a consulting doctor on his case. We’re hoping that his magic will be able to work through the malformation, but if not, then we’re going to remove the bent portion of the horn and use a combination of porcelain and ivory to rebuild it. It’d be better than the life of perpetual headaches and random magical explosions he’d have otherwise,” she explained in a quiet voice.
The moment she finished speaking, Witching Hour cringed and kicked herself mentally. She should not have told any pony that much about one of her other patients… But, inexplicably, she had felt the need to confide in Monkey Wrench about someone who was having a similar crisis… While Trick Step had been born with a bent horn, the stigma attached to the deformity was just as bad as that of lamed pegasus’ wings. “Please don’t speak to anyone about Trick Step? I shouldn’t have told you as much as I did…” Witching Hour rambled before the pegasus cut her off again with a hoof in her muzzle again.
“Doctor Witching Hour… Please… I’m glad you told me, but I’m not about to go screaming it from the roof tops…” Monkey Wrench said, smiling and rolling her eyes. Knowing the story behind the little colt, with his auburn coat and a disheveled black mane that she was sure his mother was constantly trying to get to lay flat, and Witching Hour telling her, made Monkey Wrench feel… less alone.
The unicorn gave her a shaky smile again before stepping around to the front of the wheelchair. “Excuse me, I need to make sure the flight track is clear… Stay here. I’ll be back in a moment,” Witching Hour stated, not waiting for Monkey Wrench to reply before leaving to do exactly as she’d said.
Monkey Wrench spent the few minutes alone watching Trick Step struggle with levitating a small object, the crooked horn glowing with a flickering amber aura up to the bend as he scrunched his small face into a grimace. She could almost hear him straining with effort from where she was a fair distance away. The unicorn doctor working with him took notes and gave a little shake of his head in obvious frustration. She wondered if his parents were ever disappointed in him, as her parents had been just after her accident. Monkey Wrench knew her parents had tried to hide that from her, along with their pity for her state… She could only imagine Trick Step’s sire and dam being the same, possibly worse because was born that way, or maybe better because it hadn’t been a preventable accident.
All thoughts of Trick Step, his imagined parents, and her own, were briefly forced from her mind as Witching Hour returned, smiling. “Track’s free… Let’s see what you can do now,” she said, retaking her position behind the wheelchair and pushing it towards a ramp at the side of the room.
“How are his parents taking it?” Monkey Wrench asked quietly, looking over her shoulder to catch one more glimpse of the unicorn she barely knew but felt so much in common with.
“Not easily,” Witching Hour replied guardedly, bending forward slightly so as to almost whisper in the pegasus’ ear. “While Trick Step is here, they’re over in counseling… We used to hear them arguing up to two floors away, up or down… Celestia have mercy on your ears if you were ever on the same floor. We started putting a sound-proofing spell on their room as a standard procedure.”
Monkey Wrench couldn’t help but laugh at that, quickly stifling herself with her hooves to her mouth. She grimaced, mostly at herself, for taking such amusement at another’s expense, fully killing her laughter. She glanced over her shoulder at Witching Hour and saw the same things she felt reflected in the unicorn’s sapphire eyes.
“Exactly…” Witching Hour said, seeming to know the thoughts in her patient’s mind.
“Have you spoken to my -” Monkey Wrench asked turning back to face forward as they started ascending the ramp.
“Only briefly, when I was arranging for your transfer…” the doctor answered. “I’m not sure they were convinced by my explanation, but they agreed when the doctors at Cloudsdale General said it was a good idea.”
Monkey Wrench nodded. “That sounds like them…” she commented dryly. She glanced around as they reached the top of the ramp and came out onto a platform off to the side of a good-sized rounded track running around the room about four meters above the main floor of the therapy area. The track itself was two meters wide, divided into three lanes marked in white against the red flooring, and ran around one-hundred-fifty meters on the long ends and seventy on the narrow ends, with about fifteen meters of curve at each turn.
Eagerly, Monkey Wrench jumped up from the chair once Witching Hour parked the wheelchair, her wings fanning out on reflex. She cringed a bit as pain rocked through her back from the knots in her muscles and gingerly laid her wings back, looking over her shoulder at them with worry. Immediately, Witching Hour is at her side, fussing over her and fretting. “Be careful, Miss Wrench!” the unicorn chided, her horn glowing and a veil of magic scanned Monkey Wrench.
Witching Hour sighed in obvious relief as she stepped back again. “Well… no harm done at least… It looks like some muscles are just stiff from not being used… I take it you flew every day?” Witching Hour barely waited for Monkey Wrench to nod before continuing. “That makes sense… You didn’t use those muscles, ligaments and tendons for several days, so this is bound to happen…”
Monkey Wrench allowed herself her own sigh of relief, extending her wings slowly. Again, she was amazed at how normal these wings feel, aside from the soreness of stretching from their contracted position. They responded to her natural reflexes, and even a trial puffing up caused her feathers to ruffle the same as they always had.
Witching Hour made a pleased noise as she took slow steps around the pegasus, pen virtually flying across her notepad as she made little observations. “Reflexes seem in good shape… Wing span unaffected…” she muttered, clear enough for Monkey Wrench to hear. Monkey Wrench moved her wings around to preen her feathers back into place, allowing her doctor to see, and discovering for herself, how much like normal wings these new ones moved.
Taking a close look as she fussed with her wings, Monkey Wrench saw that the crystal from the edge made thin veins down the skin, some holding feathers in them like they’d grown from the crystal. She paused briefly at the sight before shrugging and continuing. She stretched the wings out to their full span, feeling an almost unpleasant pull from the tender muscles. She then flexed with little rolls of her shoulders, working most of the knots loose while pushing her wings forward as far as possible before sweeping them fully back.
Witching Hour took several more circles around Monkey Wrench once she’d finished stretching until finally the pegasus sighed in frustration. Witching Hour gave her patient a sheepish smile. “Sorry… Alright… Let’s start easy… a simple hover a meter or two off the ground…” the doctor suggested, taking a step back and adjusting her glasses.
Monkey Wrench grinned and fanned her wings out, the movement no longer causing her any pain. The movement was second nature to her, but the moment she thrusted her wings downward for lift-off, she knew something was different. Instead of only getting a few feet of clearance, she rocketed up and only a quick roll mid-air saved her from crashing head-first into the ceiling.
“Ah!” she cried out, desperately trying to regain control of her flight as she kicked away from the ceiling. Instinctively, Monkey Wrench flapped her wings again to slow her descent, but again, they sent her further aloft. She twisted to change direction, sending her out over the main area. She gave up on flapping to regain control, extending her wings out to glide and turning using only her body weight and wing angle. The latter caused problems, as even her slight adjustments caused her to careen wildly from side to side.
Finally, after far too long of being airborne without much control, Monkey Wrench finally managed to glide back to the platform, skidding to a graceless landing and crashing into the parked wheelchair. Witching Hour was immediately at her side, her horn glowing as yet another veil of ice blue magic ran through Monkey Wrench. “That was… Not what I expected…” the unicorn said simply, scratching at her head.
Monkey Wrench pulled herself up, glowering at the wheelchair and then her wings as though they had betrayed her. “Me neither! Any move I made did more than it used to… That lift off should’ve only taken me five feet in the air at most! And what was with my glide control?!” Monkey Wrench ranted, shaking her head irritably.
“Well… I think…” Witching Hour started thoughtfully before consulting her notes and turning back to Monkey Wrench. “You said that was your normal effort?” At Monkey Wrench’s nod, Witching Hour’s pen started scribbling down notes quickly. “Alright… So more effort will obviously cause havoc… How about as little effort as you can manage?” Though they were both full of trepidation at how things had progressed so far.
“Alright…” Monkey Wrench replied cautiously as she moved back to the starting point. She hid her nerves by shaking her wings out again. She stretched them out to their full span and gave them the lightest flick she could. Before today, it barely would’ve helped her jump over a crate, but now it took her several feet off the ground.
“Haha!” she crowed at her success, flapping her wings again. She soon realized her error as the stronger flap sent her crashing first to the ceiling, and then down to the floor. She picked herself up as Witching Hour rushed over.
“Strange… It seems that you now require less wing power to accomplish the same tasks as before…” Witching Hour’s pen scratched hastily at her notepad while she circled Monkey Wrench.
“But I can fly!” Monkey Wrench interrupted, as though that was all that mattered. Before Witching Hour could gather herself to counter, the pegasus scooped her up with a joyful whoop, and took them aloft, only to dive over the side of the track to the main floor. She clung, terrified, to Monkey Wrench as she managed to pull out of the dive and another flap sent them zooming across the length of the room, all the while shouting “I can fly!” It was a wild ride as Monkey Wrench still wound up constantly over-correcting her movements with too-sharp turns and too-quick accelerations.
Finally, Monkey Wrench managed to land with some semblance of grace, coughing as her cheeks burned red, and she set Witching Hour down on her shaky hooves. “Erm… Sorry…” Monkey Wrench muttered, embarrassed, her head shrinking down against her shoulders. Witching Hour laughed hesitantly, but stopped as Monkey Wrench immediately threw her arms around her neck and hugged her tightly. “Thank you… Thank you so much…” Monkey Wrench whispered fiercely, though Witching Hour could hear the tears trying to work their way to the surface. Slowly, she brought a hoof up to return the hug, patting her patient’s back reassuringly.
“You’re very welcome…” she replied, unable to say more than that, lest her own tears of joy for her patient spill over.
Luna burst into a small room off the throne room filled with light. It was the place where she felt closest to her sister while she recovered from the spell used to save Soarin’s life. Luna was practically bouncing in place as her magic quickly shut the door behind her.
“She did it!” Luna exclaimed excitedly, hovering a foot or so in the air in her joy. Luna could feel that Celestia returned her sister’s smile, despite her lack of physical presence.
“I’m surprised you waited this long to find out… I almost expected you to cut into your sleep and go see for yourself how your student did since you couldn’t discover the outcome from her last night,” Celestia replied with a teasing note in her mental ‘voice’. Luna landed lightly on the floor, looking uncertain.
“You never did that for Princess Twilight…” Luna responded as though she’d been chided, her forehoof making an idle pattern against the tile. Celestia chuckled and Luna felt her sister’s presence beside her.
“Dear sister… You are not me,” the elder alicorn said, and Luna felt something like her sister’s horn gently touching hers. “You are more subtle and discreet, while I am direct. I saw Twilight Sparkle’s display of power, and wasted no time taking her as my student. You took your time. I knew you had your eye on young Witching Hour long before you made it official… You will teach your student differently from how I taught mine…”
Luna looked up, a little startled but smiling shakily. “I know… But…” she started again, but Celestia ‘spoke’, silencing her again.
“You are not me, Luna… What works for me may not work for you, if it does at all…” Celestia explained again. “If you could not see yourself taking Witching Hour under your tutelage immediately upon finding her a suitable candidate, then there’s no reason for you to do as I have done.” She again ‘smiled’ down at her younger sister. “Now… I take it she just contacted you with her lucid dreaming and you found out that way?” she prompted, causing Luna’s elated mood to come back with a side of humor.
“Yes! Last night she was too exhausted to do so. Apparently, the results were better than expected too! Miss Monkey Wrench was apparently quite the sight today, careening wildly about the physical therapy room because her normal wing movements provided too much force,” Luna laughed. “It was almost as bad as when Princess Twilight was learning to fly if Witching Hour’s memory wasn’t exaggerating. Little Spike still has nightmares about that experience.”
Celestia laughed heartily at her sister’s words. “Good… I’m glad to hear it…” She paused briefly, turning thoughtful. “Luna… Where do you want her to go?”
The question brought Luna up short, but in a show of playfulness, she smiled at up at the glowing ceiling. “The long term planning was always your speciality, sister. As I am not you, I have endeavored to not give it much thought…”
Celestia snorted in bemusement at her sister catching her with her own words. “True enough, dear sister… What fleeting thoughts have crossed your mind then?” she rephrased her question, hoping to get a better answer.
Luna sighed, unable to avoid the question any longer. “You once said that when the Crystal Empire is filled with hope and love, those things are reflected across all Equestria… Princess Cadence is obviously already there, and she is the Princess of Love. But what of hope?”
“What of it, indeed?” Celestia prompted, teasing Luna for not quite giving her a full answer.
“Witching Hour inspires such hope in ponies… Since the accident and before Witching Hour spoke to her, Monkey Wrench’s mind was so dark and morose, her dreams dismal of a life on the ground - as you might imagine, given the state her wings were in… But after just speaking to her of possibly getting any use of her wings, her dreams changed… It’s been the same with many of her patients… She brings them hope when they feel there is naught left,” Luna elaborated before stopping herself. “She has only begun to realize it, though…” she added with a wistful sigh.
Celestia nodded thoughtfully, remaining silent. “Then that will wait until she’s ready to fully accept it… In the mean time,” the elder alicorn sighed heavily. “Your student… How is she with spells outside of her astonishing healing abilities?”
Luna looked confused briefly before answering. “To be honest, I think she could’ve done anything she wanted to, but she wanted to help others the most… Her previous teachers all have said she has a great capacity for learning and it’s difficult even now to direct her studies down one line… I’ve managed to keep it mostly straight by leaving a majority of her education to the hospital doctors, but she studies seemingly random topics on her off time, or goes back to old favorites like logic, spell theory, and music.”
Celestia made a noncommittal, thoughtful noise. “Then, my dear sister, I think I have an idea that will keep her busy, but allow her to continue on her path…”