Life Finds a Way

Sunday, January 4th, 909 AB (3 days later)

“THIRTY FUCKING THOUSAND BITS?!”

“CURE!” Title shouts.

“WHAT?!”

“You’re shouting, you idiot!”

“Can you blame me?! That’s like… half of this god damn house!”

Scoffing, Title shakes her head, “Honey, that’s over half of this house… and honestly, I expect your actual bill to be a little higher.”

“HIGHER? DOES SHE WANT THE FUCKING BLOOD OUT OF MY VEINS?” he screams, crossing his right hoof over his left pastern and waving the foreleg in the air.

Quickly coming down the stairs, Deed looks at the enraged colt. “Easy, champ… What in the hay is wrong with him?” he asks, turning to look at his wife. Vines is looking out from the kitchen, clearly shocked at the outburst.

“He was a little nuts at the tax office too, but… come on, Cure, you’re better than this. You made a little over ninety thousand bits in eighty days, ya big baby.”

“Fine!” he growls, throwing his hooves in the air. After a few calming breaths, he slowly nods. “You’re right. I’m really sorry, mom.” He walks over to the mare and wraps her in a hug. “Sorry dad, sorry dam. I dunno why I lost my temper.”

“I think it happens to everypony the first time they get a tax bill, son. Yours bein so much higher just means it hits a lot harder.”

“I do not like hearing that kind of language from you, young stallion,” his dam scolds, waving a spoon his way. “Especially when you knew this was coming. There was no reason for that!” Just like the other day, the sting from his dam’s admonishment really hurts, and despite his mental age, Cure can feel his head droop, ears pin back, and tail go limp.

Releasing his mom and, with his head down, he slinks over to his dam and leans into her chest, “I know, dam. I really am sorry. It’s just… sooo much money.”

Wrapping a foreleg around her colt, she pets down his back while agreeing. “I know it is, sweetie, but you have to look at the big picture. You’ve made way more money in one quarter than most ponies do in a whole year. It’s only fair that you pay your share too.”

With one last nuzzle, he nods and, still hanging his head, trudges back to lay next to his mom, giving his sire a quick nuzzle along the way. “I’m sorry, everypony. Like you said, I should be better than that. It’s just so much more in taxes than I’ve ever seen and seeing so much just… go away set me off.”

Title puts her right foreleg over his lower back and rests some of her weight on him, holding the colt close. “It’s okay, honey. I get it. I just can’t believe you’ve made so much money. This is over three times what me and your sire make together… and that’s after your cutie mark ideas. We’re officially rich, I think.”

“Well…” he sighs again, “that’s good, I guess. Another quarter like that and I think it’s time we got a nicer house.”

Deed makes his way over and lays on Cure’s right while Vines goes back to getting lunch ready.

“Is this yer ledger?”

“Yeah, the first entry is the first time Uncle Lucky brought that first mare. I’ve underlined those just so they stand out, but all the rest is my cosmetic business. I only collected pay from the clinic for the first three times I worked there, so my tax bill from that will be like… fifty bits, I guess.”

Deed lets out an impressed whistle at the ledger showing amounts anywhere from three hundred bits on, apparently, a slow day back towards the start of the business, all the way up to seventy five hundred bits on a single busy one. He knows that was the Sunday just before Hearth’s Warming where he deaged a husband and his wives over three hours.

“Any idea how many actual hours of work ya got here, champ?”

“I didn’t track that, but most appointments are less than twenty minutes. I’ve had about a hundred and sixty cosmetic customers, but as you can tell from the ledger the ones towards the end of the quarter were all a lot more involved. Over a third of this is from the fifteen ponies I’ve deaged. Well, the ones I’ve charged, at least.”

“Yep,” Title agrees, “several of those and yer flank fluffin mares comin in once word got out. I think we should send that newspaper mare a fruit basket or somethin.”

“Yeah, would you mind doing that for me? Just take the money and send her the nicest gift basket you can find, I do owe her for that. Maybe put a voucher in there for a free session if you think that would help.”

“I think you already made her pretty happy that day, so I’ll just send her the basket.”

“Alright,” he agrees, leaning his head under her chin. “Still can’t believe it… thirty grand.”

“Son, you’re payin more in taxes than I made in any six quarters from when you were born until I met yer mom.” Deed’s statement hits Cure pretty hard, making him feel like even more of an asshole for throwing a hissy fit over paying less than a one third tax rate on, likely, ten times as much income as the three of them got by on. “Hmm… a hundred ‘n sixty customers at three per hour… so you’ve worked about fifty three hours last quarter, champ?”

“I guess. That sounds right.”

“Son… your hourly pay, based on when you’re actually working, at least, is somewhere around seventeen hundred bits.”

Title does a full body shudder when she realizes Deed’s math is accurate. The colt is a walking gold mine. She never thought of him as anything but her son, but having hard numbers showing how valuable his talent is… it’s shocking. He makes more money in just over an hour than they do on a house sale, and it’s only his first quarter and he’s severely limited by his magic.

With a long sigh, Cure can only nod in acceptance of his sire’s subtle criticism. “Good point, pa. I guess I really am just acting like a baby.” Reaching out, he flips the ledger shut. “I accept the necessity of it, but it doesn’t mean I’m exactly thrilled with it. Oh well, I guess somepony has to make sure Bulwark and Haze are gettin paid.” Cure lays his head on Title’s foreleg and lets out another sigh. “Are you two coming today?”

“Of course.”
“We all are, champ.”

“Good. I’m gonna miss ‘em.”

“Aww…” Title coos, gently nosing into his mane. “He’s really become a big brother to ya, hasn’t he?”

“Yeah. I wasn’t sure how he would act when I first met him. Ya know, bein twice my age and all, almost, but… yeah, he’s been really cool from the start. I’m lucky Dawn brought him around.”

“Any idea what the colt’s planning after Basic?”

“Dunno if you can keep callin ‘em a colt, dad. He’s been an adult for a year now. Besides, he’s only like… nine years younger than you and’ll be fully grown probably by summer. Well, fully naturally grown at least. He asked for me to keep him in his growth phase for a little longer.” Cure rolls to his left, turning to wrap his forelegs around his mom’s neck and giving her a small tug so she lays down on his neck and chin.

Cure gives her a peck on the chin and continues, “As far as I know he’s going to come back for a few weeks, then either try to get into the Artillery school or the Medic Corps. I think he wants to do Artillery if he can, though… I just don’t know if he has the magic capacity for it.”

“I bet he does,” Title says. “You went above and beyond for him, honey. With the shape he’s in he’ll blow through Basic, and with that horn upgrade you gave ‘em he’ll probably be the best caster too. I bet they’ll put him anywhere he asks to be when he graduates.”

“I hope it’s somewhere safe. I need to order one of those books for ‘em just in case, though.”

“The scroll books you saw in that catalog?”

“Yeah, I was going to get one for each of us too. With this kind of income you never know if somepony’s gonna target you, so I figure if you and dad each had a few shield scrolls, a couple teleports, some stunners, a slow fall or two, and, in case it gets real ugly, some heavy hitters then I’ll feel a lot better.”

“That sounds like a lotta firepower, son. We ain’t the richest ponies out there, ya know… there’s other ponies they’d go after first.”

“Maybe, but neither of you have any experience defending yourselves. At some point I want you two going to the range with me. We’ll just take a bunch of scrolls and gems, that way you can get familiar with aiming them and activating them quickly. They won’t be very useful to you if you’re just carrying them with no idea how they work.”

“Sounds like it could be fun, honey. Maybe after I have the foal we can take turns going two at a time.”

“Hmm… dad? You’re leavin for your seminar next week. I can put a bolt spell in the mid crystal and a shield and stunner in a couple mid-lows before I head over to Dawn’s. Those will at least give you an idea of how to aim and how much power it takes to recharge. I’ll make you some scrolls and a subdermal pouch for the shield and teleport scrolls so, even if you’re searched, nopony will find ‘em.”

“Honey, nothing will happen to your sire in Canterlot,” Title argues, rolling her eyes. “You saw how many guards are patrolling the place.”

“So? He’ll come back with all of them still charged then. Where’s the harm in that?”

“I… guess,” she reluctantly concedes.

“I don’t mind, son. I know yer just worried ‘bout yer pa. We’ll go to the range later if it’ll make ya feel better.”

Vines calls from the kitchen, “Get ready for lunch!”

Title sits up, leans down, and plants a kiss on Cure’s chin, then another on Deed’s cheek before trotting off to get cleaned up. After hoisting Cure up onto his hooves and giving him a quick hug, Deed follows the mare, Cure doing the same a moment later.

After a delicious lunch, Cure gets ready to head into town. The weather team had, as is tradition, given the town about a hoof of snow the day before Hearth’s Warming Eve, and even though it was mostly gone Cure was still happy to have his built-in sunglasses. The nictitating membrane also provides a nice windshield in addition to its primary function.

Solar’s departure time is two o’clock, but he and his family insisted Cure join them before he heads to the station. Foregoing a coat since he no longer feels the cold, Cure grabs his bags and makes his way into town, brimming with anxiety. He knows his adoptive big brother isn’t going anywhere truly dangerous, but just the thought of the possibility some day makes his insides churn.

A quick knock and the door opens to a depressed looking Dawn, something Cure can barely stand to see. Wordlessly, he steps into the house, pushes the door shut behind him, and wraps his forelegs around the downtrodden filly.

As she nuzzles into the side of his neck he gently whispers, “It’s alright, Sunrise. He’s just goin away to train for a couple months. He’ll be back by spring, not to mention his half days.” With a quick peck to the cheek he releases the girl, nudges her back into the living room, and hangs his bags on a peg by the door.

Walking into the living room he finds Solar on a couch with Starlight Shine across his withers. Gleaming Haze and Emerald Aura are on another couch snuggled together.

Cure sits on his haunches and rubs his forehooves together. “Well if it isn’t every unicorn in the entire city, all in one place!” he loudly declares. “Now is my time to strike for all of earth pony kind! Bwahahaha!” he shouts, triumphantly waving both hooves in the air.

“Oh no,” Haze deadpans, “Run, honey, I’ll hold him off for you,” he continues in a flat tone, getting a snicker from Starlight and an eye roll from everypony else.

He thrusts a hoof in Haze’s direction and shouts, “Resistance is futile! There’s nopony that can stop my dastardly plan!” Sweeping the hoof to the others he continues, “Soon you shall all meet your fate!”

“Sweet Celestia,” Solar asks, mid-facehoof, “how many comic books have you read?”

Dawn gives Cure a shove, pushing herself sideways a little, then rolls her eyes and trots past him to hop up on the free couch.

“More than any sane colt my age ever should, my friend,” he answers, hopping up on Dawn’s right and leaning against the filly. “So, how was the party?”

“It was really nice, Cure. We had a lot of fun. Thanks again for that,” he answers as Starlight hops off the couch, walks over, and wraps him in a hug while planting a big kiss between his ears.

Cure had met her when he and Solar’s family had all gone to get the pair measured for a tuxedo and a fancy dress. The young mare looked absolutely stunning in the black evening gown Velvet Stitch, the boutique owner, had suggested and Emerald was nearly glowing in excitement. She’d been around a few times since then, but Solar is smitten with the girl, so he’s been spending a lot more time with her than anypony else over the last few weeks.

“Oh my,” he starts in a faux deep voice, “I know I’m irresistible, my dear,” he says, batting his lashes, “but your paramour is right there,” he teases, pointing a hoof at Solar. “Try not to make him too jealous now, you know how aggressive those military types can get.”

After giggling at the silly colt she gives him a quick nuzzle. “Thank you for everything you did, Cure. We had a wonderful time that night. The party was fantastic, and that’s coming from me!”

Solar had mentioned that she was an event planner, so if it exceeded her standards then that’s a win in Cure’s book.

Cure has to hold back a snicker when, as the mare hops up to get back on Solar’s withers, Dawn climbs up on his to stake her claim. He shifts to his left a little and leans his head back to nuzzle into the left side of her cheek.

“Did you get to meet anypony interesting?”

“Eh, just a few other young stallions and mares that’ll be joining me on the train today. There were a few business ponies’ foals there too, but that was the first fancy party like that I’ve ever been to, so I didn’t really know what to do. I just kinda followed Shiny around,” he explains, getting a smile from the girl.

“He was adorable,” she teases. “You should have seen how many other mares were checking him out when I dragged him on the dance floor. He got all cute and stammery whenever anypony asked to cut in,” she says, leaning forward and nipping at an ear causing the red colt’s coat to darken a shade.

“That’s my colt!” Haze cheers with a chuckle.

“Aww,” Dawn gushes, “look how dark he’s turning!” which even gets a light giggle from Emerald.

“Reminds me of somepony else, Sunrise. I think you get almost that dark too,” Cure adds with another nuzzle. Looking back to the colt he admits, “I think I would feel pretty out of place at something like that. I’m sure I’ll get dragged to a few eventually, though,” he finishes with a sigh.

“I bet you will, mister big shot,” Solar agrees.

“Yeah, that starts back up next weekend, then we’re skipping a few for the births.”

“Oh yeah? Any idea who?”

“Yeah, they gave me the info during my shift yesterday. It’s another unicorn.”

“Am I missing something?” Starlight asks, thoroughly confused as to what Solar and Cure are discussing.

“I do some volunteer work,” Cure explains. “I can’t really talk about it much, though, since it’s confidential.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, sorry. It’s all very hush hush, ya know? Some bad creature goes out and starts trouble and next thing ya know the princess is at my door all like ‘Cure,” he starts in a squeaky silly mare’s voice getting a chuckle from Haze, “only the most brilliant, dashing, and powerful pony can save the day! Please, I beg you… can you see if Solar is available?’”

Haze, Emerald, and Starlight all bark out a laugh, but the two that have had more Cure exposure just roll their eyes and sigh. “You’re such a dork,” Dawn comments, getting an agreeing nod from her brother.

“Yeah, probably,” Cure agrees, then turns to Starlight. “Seriously, though, Star, I do some volunteer work and it’s all health stuff, so I can’t go into details. Sorry I can’t tell ya more.”

Scoffing, she waves the issue away, “It’s fine, I figured if you got those tickets you must have some serious connections. It does seem odd for a colt your age, though.”

“To be fair,” Haze starts, “he is very odd for a colt of his age. Or any age.”

“Hey! My taxes pay your wages, sergeant! Ya oughta be nicer to your patrons!”

“And the guard thanks you for your contribution,” he coolly answers with a big smile.

“Contribution my tail, highway robbery is what it is. I almost popped my top this morning. We did the math for my first quarter. It’s… ugly,” he admits with a scrunched up snout. “Meh, enough money talk, I don’t need to lose my cool again. So when are you gonna be back, dude? Next Sunday?”

“The first day they’re letting us go is in three weeks, so the 25th. From there on I’ll be home from about one ‘till six every Sunday for two and a half months.”

“Cool. I’ll be at the station ta greet ya. If there’s something that you want when you get home just say the word. What was Basic like for you, sarge?” Cure asks. “Any good stories?”

“Not really from Basic,” Haze explains. “It’s not a fun time. We did have one stallion get caught on one of the mare floors, though. That was kinda funny.”

“Gleaming…” Emerald warns with a scowl.

“I’ll keep it clean. Mostly,” he insists.

“What happened?” Solar asks.

“Apparently he was visiting a lady friend up there, so when the drill sergeant came around makin sure nopony was up there that wasn’t supposed to be he dove in one of the storage trunks,” he explains, chuckling.

“This fella was a damn big earth pony, so the drill sergeant comes through the mares’ dorm and sees the mare laying there looking innocent with a cracked-open locker at the end of her bunk and half a tail hangin out of it.”

Solar winces at the image. “Oh no…”

“Oh yeah,” Haze insists with a slow nod and a grimace. “That sergeant read her the riot act for not properly packing her gear away, then pulled out a knife, cut his tail off, kicked the stump into the trunk, and slammed the lid shut. She had to stomp it down real good to get it to latch. I think she actually jumped up on it and bounced a few times before it did.

“The poor bastard was lucky those metal trunks aren’t airtight because that sarge kept chewin the mare out for a solid fifteen minutes. She made her get a broom and a dustpan and sweep up her stallion’s tail and everything.”

Shaking his head, he continues. “The sarge had her take it half way across base to the far dumpsters since it was biological waste, carrying the dustpan in her mouth the whole way while screaming her head off at the poor mare the whole time.

“Keep in mind, the stallion’s tail was way too big to fit in the pan, so every time she got a piece in her nose and sneezed or just had a hair fall out the sergeant made her stop and pick up all the pieces again. I think he was locked in that trunk for almost an hour.”

“By the time they made it back the bottom of the trunk was smeared with the… results… of their activities, not to mention a whole lot of sweat. They called him Tiny Tail or Double-T for the last six weeks of basic and made him wear a mare’s uniform and armor the whole time, saying if he was in the mare’s part of the barracks then he must be one, and therefore should dress appropriately.”

“As I understand it he had to… uhh… wrap himself pretty heavily to prevent chafing on the runs. That armor was tight on him. He did mention that it helped keep... well, parts warm that a tail apparently usually helps with more than you would think.”

“Wow…”

With a grave expression, Haze warns his son. “Do not piss off your DS, son. They’ll make the whole rest of Basic into absolute Tartarus if you do.”

“Good advice, dad.”

“Mrs. Aura,” Cure asks, “did you ever consider joining?”

“Not at all. I was never interested in joining the guard. Physical exertion is not for me… and that sounds absolutely horrid.”

“Huh… What about you, Sunrise? You wanna be a battlemage some day?”

“I think I would. I have a lot of fun at the range and learning new spells is really exciting. I wanna be a total hardflank too. I’m not too worried about the physical stuff anymore.”

“That’s my girl!”

“I’m sure you’ll be great, sis.”

“Cool. Maybe I’ll tag along. I’ve thought about at least joining the reserves. The last thing I want to do is get totally locked into my job to the point I can’t do anything else, though. I think I’d eventually burn out.”

“I thought you liked what you’re doing,” Dawn says, nosing an ear.

“I do, and my volunteer job makes me feel like I’m doing real good, but I’m just not sure I can do that all day every day forever, ya know?”

“There’s nothing wrong with that, son,” Haze encourages. “You have to get out there and live your life while you’re young. I certainly never expected the guard to bring me here, of all places.”

“Oh?” Cure asks, “How did you end up here?”

“Well, there’s not a lot of movement in the ranks, as you can imagine. When a post opened up for a second in command position I knew it would probably be a long time before another came around, so I applied. The squad needed a medic, so I had the right qualifications. My Emmy,” he says, nuzzling his wife, “was able to transfer to the local clinic easily enough, so here we are.”

“Well, I’m darn glad ya did, sarge,” Cure says, nuzzling Dawn again and getting one in return.

“So cuuute!” Starlight gushes from atop Solar, who’s faking a disgusted face.

“I admit, I wasn’t thrilled to have to move here,” Emerald explains, “but this town has been good for us. It’s nice. Much quieter than Manehattan, and I’m far happier with my job. It’s been a good place to raise our foals,” she finishes with a fond smile.

“I’m kinda surprised they don’t have you go to other buildings and clean them too, honestly,” Cure notes. “I haven’t seen anypony that keeps an area clean like you do.”

Emerald beams at the compliment and is just about to respond when Haze speaks up. “I think it’s time to leave, son.”

Solar lets out a sigh and nods, shifting slightly to signal Starlight to climb off him.

“Do you need to take anything?” Dawn asks.

Haze shakes his head no. “Nope. They don’t let you bring anything with you, honey. Not even a set of bags. The only thing you bring is yourself; they’ll have all his paperwork in Baltimare waiting for him.”

As a group, everypony quietly gets ready and heads out together. Several other families with young mares and stallions are doing the same thing, so a quiet procession of families collectively make their way to the station, preparing to say goodbye to their foals, most of whom are leaving home for the first time.

Outside the station is a small gathering of ponies, including many city leaders and the mayor, all coming out to cheer the town’s children on as they set forth on their first foray into adulthood.

Solar is greeted by several friends his age, none of whom Cure knows. Off to the side is the running group, all cheering and wishing him luck. Vines, Deed, Title, Amethyst, and Lemon stand behind the group like coaches and a youth team posing for pictures, all waving to the young stallion.

When the “All Aboard” is called, Solar is wrapped in a hug by his family, gives them each a kiss, then does the same to Starlight. After giving his friends a hoof bump, he turns to Cure to do the same. Cure grabs the hoof and yanks him forwards into a hug instead, squeezing the young stallion around the neck and wishing him good luck before letting go.

Solar gives his sister and parents another quick nuzzle and walks through the crowd, boarding the train, then finding an unoccupied window to give one last wave before the doors close, the whistle blows, and the train begins moving.

Though the filly is down, Dawn quickly finds herself surrounded by the rest of the foals hugging and nuzzling her to provide encouragement and support. Quietly getting everypony’s attention, Cure points the group to a crying Emerald leaning heavily on her husband.

Though most of the group barely knows the mare, they know who she is, so it’s only a few seconds before she finds herself and Haze at the center of a nine foal group hug, something that it is physically impossible to cry in.

Families begin departing several minutes later, and the quiet atmosphere permeating the area follows them back to their homes.

Cure trots over to his parents and quickly tells them he’s going back with Dawn to be a comforting presence, getting an approving nod in return. Rejoining the family, he keeps his side against his fillyfriend until they reach their home.

Starlight, having only met the family a few times, takes her leave from the group as the other four go inside.

Once inside, Emerald climbs into the couch Solar had been on, lays her head down, and cries. Dawn quickly climbs up and crawls under her neck, squirming herself between her dam’s forelegs and nuzzling her chin with her cheek. Haze leans into the mare on her left side and Cure takes the right.

The group, exhausted from worry and weary from emotions, soon falls asleep.

A knock at the door startles Cure and Haze out of sleep, the two vacating the sides of the sleeping mare at once, then blearily sharing a look. Cure gives the “after you” wave to the door and follows the stallion to see who’s there. Haze opens the door to find Deed’s smiling face with the wives behind him and food on everypony’s back.

“Howdy, neighbor! We thought maybe y’all could use a good meal. Nothin helps a long day more ‘n some good eats an’ a lil company,” he cheerily explains.

“Heh… that sounds great,” Haze agrees, stepping out of the way. “Come on in, everypony.”

The motion and noise starts to rouse the sleeping unicorns, who watch in a daze as Cure’s parents pile in and, with Haze’s help, set the table for dinner.

Haze approaches his wife and daughter, shaking them lightly with a hoof and telling them to go clean up. The two come out of their stupor and, after refreshing themselves, join the group at the now crowded table. Emerald and Haze take one side and find their daughter and Cure to Emerald’s right, Deed to Haze’s left, and Vines and Title opposite them.

Voice full of concern, Vines encourages them to eat up. “I know how saying goodbye to family feels,” she softly explains, “but you’ll see your son soon. He’ll be fine while he’s at training and he’ll be back before you know it. It sounds like he’s got a little fillyfriend, so maybe grandfoals will come along soon too!” she finishes with an excited wiggle.

“They do seem quite sweet on each other,” Emerald agrees, nodding slowly and taking her first bite.

“I betchya anything he’s gonna have half the mares in training followin him home like lost puppies,” Cure says, causing Emerald to choke and getting a punch from Dawn. “Ah fudge, I’m sorry Mrs. Aura, all I meant is that I haven’t seen any other unicorn stallions in shape like him.”

“The colt’s right,” Deed declares. “Could use a lil work on the timin, though, champ,” he adds with a weak scowl.

“My bad!”

Sighing, Title tries to help, “He’s not wrong though. Your son is in fantastic shape, especially considering he’s still growing. You got nothin to worry about. He’ll come back stronger, more determined, more confident, and ready to take on the world. He’ll be very successful, I’m sure.”

“And ya know who’s mostly responsible for that?” Cure asks. Pointing a hoof at the two he answers, “You two. Ya raised a great colt and he’s gonna keep kicking plot,” he finishes with a firm nod.

“Yeah, dam. Big bro’ll be fine. He’ll be back soon.”

“They’re right, honey. Chin up. We’ll see him in a few weeks, alright?” Turning to the parents, Haze continues, “I really appreciate you all coming over and bringing this wonderful food. We’re very grateful for our son and daughter meeting you all. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart.”

“My husband is right. This was very kind of you, especially given my shameful behavior in the past. I truly am grateful.”

“Water under the bridge,” Vines insists, waving the issue away.

“Couldn’t ‘a said it better, babe! Everypony dig in!” Deed jovially commands, helping himself. Everypony else joins in and, despite the dour feeling, enjoys a nice, if quiet, dinner together.

With only a few bites left of his food, Cure looks to his sire and asks, “Did you bring the crystals and scrolls?”

“Sure did.”

“Great. Hey Dawn?” Cure calls between bites.

“Hmm?”

“You know my pa’s goin to an investing seminar next week, right?”

Continuing to eat, she nods with an “Mmhmm.”

“I was gonna send him with some protection. Scrolls, crystals, and stuff. We’re goin to the range after dinner so he can get a feel for how to use ‘em all. You wanna come?” Quickly looking at her parents he adds, “You’re both welcome to come too, if you want, of course.”

“I think I’ll pass tonight,” Haze says, setting his utensils by his now empty plate. “I think we’re going to relax a little and just spend some time together. You two go have fun, just be home before the sun sets, honey.”

“Okay daddy,” she nods in agreement.

“We won’t be long, sarge, and we’ll drop her off before we head home.”

“Sounds good, Cure. Be safe.”

“We’ll help you clean up before we leave,” Vines insists. “You two go relax and we’ll be out of your manes before you know it.”

“Much appreciated,” Haze agrees with a nod, nudging his wife back into the living room.

The group breaks up from there. Dawn, Deed, and Cure take off to the range, him going in his normal colors for once. Emerald and Haze relax in the living room while Vines and Title clean everything with a few crystals and put everything away, then pack up everything they brought in one of the saddlebags.

Before leaving Vines approaches the pair. “We’re all set to go. Before we leave I just wanted to let you know that if you both have an evening shift and need somepony to watch Dawn and make sure she gets dinner, she’s always welcome in our home. You too if you’re getting off late and don’t have food ready at home.”

“I may occasionally need to take you up on that,” Emerald says with a sigh. “I’ve changed my availability at the clinic, but you know how it is sometimes. If I foresee a long day I can go to the school and let her know to come home with your son. Thank you again.”

“Oh think nothing of it,” Vines insists. “Dawn is an absolute sweetheart and we all adore her. If there’s ever anything you need a hoof with just say the word!”

Deed had done well enough at the range. Unlike unicorn magic, spells and crystals do not give the user an innate targeting aura to assist them; instead it is reliant purely on the visualization the caster crafts during the activation of the item.

Also, any change to a spell that requires different runes be applied must be included during enchantment. The user gets an intrinsic understanding of what a crystal can do when holding it; essentially a user interface in their brain. This is supported by the enchantment “program” that encapsulates the actual spell, and adds additional difficulty to preparing the crystal.

It also takes up additional storage space on the crystal itself, potentially reducing the space for the battery if too many options are included.

Magic Missile is a good example due to the flexibility of the spell. There’s different runic sequences available for several parameters. Number of missiles, aiming mechanism, and payload type, for example. A crystal with all options included will be far more flexible, but may only get one shot instead of three because so much more of the crystal is housing the options and, therefore, there’s just less space to store the “battery” part.

Fortunately, with his greatly enhanced visual acuity the lack of an aura proved to be a non-issue for Deed, though he will be unable to use a teleport scroll safely in circumstances where he’s not looking directly at where he wants to go. That, also, is not a huge problem given his ridiculously powerful physique and months of practice actively channeling magic through his muscles.

There are few ponies alive that Cure figures would be able to seriously hurt his sire, especially since he has spent time every night but an occasional Friday for the past few months enhancing the durability of the stallion’s bones, ligaments, tendons, and muscles and giving him the same subdermal armor layer he himself has.

Back towards the end of October Deed was, while unusually strong, still basically just an earth pony. With the changes Cure and he have made he’s essentially a mobile battering ram. Cure’s only real concern, given that Deed would be packing several utility and mobility scrolls and crystals, was that the stallion could accidentally kill a normal pony, especially a unicorn, if he had to fight somepony.

He made sure to warn Deed, then took him to the treeline and had him give a full-powered, magic-enhanced buck to a smaller maple tree for demonstration. The trunk was just a little bigger than one of his sire’s hooves. Cure estimated it a little under a hoof and a half in diameter, so he only used his right leg. Deed’s hooves are a couple centimeters bigger than an average unicorn’s upon which the standard is based.

Dawn’s jaw nearly hit the ground when the trunk exploded in splinters and the tree effectively had a hoof-and-a-half tall segment completely removed from its midsection, toppling over and nearly landing on the bewildered stallion.

The difference in a predator/prey mentality quickly became apparent when Deed, upon seeing the devastation that his attack caused, looked like he would be ill at the thought of hitting a pony that hard. The vivid description Cure gave of him accidentally internally decapitating an attacker certainly didn’t help, but it drove home the notion that he’ll have to be careful to control his power on anypony that he isn’t trying to straight-up kill.

After dropping Dawn back off at her house and grabbing his bags the two make their way home. When they trot in the door they find the mares each reading a book; Title on Vines’ right and leaning against each other.

“How’d it go?” Title immediately asks.

“It went really well,” Cure answers. “Dad’s eyesight seems to help a lot with aiming and stuff, so once I make a few pockets for him to stash the utility gems in he’ll be good to go. He also finally got to see just how much stronger he is compared to four months ago.”

“Oh? What’d you do?”

“Broke a tree in half,” Deed casually answers while trotting over to lay on Title’s other side. The answer gets him raised brows and questioning looks from the pair. “Yep, the colt’s changes combined with magic are somethin else, I tell ya. Don’t go kickin anypony at full power, you’ll kill ‘em on the spot.”

With a horrified look Vines simply asks, “What? What do you mean, honey?” as Deed gets comfortable.

“He means that a full powered one-legged buck literally blew a hoof-wide section of tree out the other side when he used magic to enhance his strength. It also made him slide forward a little bit and almost do a somersault, which worked out well since the tree probably would have hit him when it landed otherwise. He woulda been fine,” he adds with a shrug, “but it woulda been inconvenient patchin up the cuts in his coat from the branches.”

“Yep,” Deed nods, “so just be careful how hard ya hit somepony if ya ever hafta defend yerself. Or just use muscles with no magic, unless it’s a real bad situation, I reckon.”

“Huh. Neat,” Title mutters, looking at her own hoof.

“Yeah, from my experiments at the gym it seems like magic just about triples how hard we hit, so, as unpleasant as the picture is, just consider how messed up a pegasus or, especially, a unicorn would be just from a forward kick… never mind a buck. Our hooves might as well be metal clubs since I’ve enhanced us so much, after all.”

“Honey…” Vines starts in an unsure tone.

“Dam, it’ll only be an issue if you have to defend yourselves. Just don’t channel magic into a hit. With as strong as you all are now you won’t really need it, so just focus your magic on pushing away with your aura instead. It’ll be like your own personal shield. I tested it once… it makes a difference.”

“He’s right, honey,” Title says, giving her a nuzzle. “It’s not like you’re gonna go out picking fights after the bar closes or somethin.”

“Right,” Cure agrees, “you strike me more as a giggly drunk than a mean one,” he teases with a smile.

“I’ve only drank once or twice ever,” she quietly admits.

“Yep, yer dam’s never been a drinker, son. She’s always been the responsible one.”

“Huh. Well, nothin wrong with that. Aside from some vacations in my memories, I don’t have many where Ed drank a lot. I remember a few where Cyndi had a bit too much wine or a strong martini before dinner though.” With an absolutely feral smile he adds, “Those are some interesting memories.”

“Honey!” Vines shouts, uncomfortable with the predatory, lustful look on her son.

“What? They were married and it’s not like I got to pick and choose what memories I got.”

“Still!” she protests with a huff.

“Ooh… details, Cure!”

“Title!”

“Oh come on, babe! The colt’s no shrieking maiden. He’s seen more mares inside and out in the last three months than you have your whole life.”

“Oh my stars, honey!” Vines shouts. “You don’t have to say it like that!”

“Eh, I wasn’t gonna share anyhow. Those were pretty private. She got very… vocal, sometimes, though. Good Lord, a little booze in her and she would say the craziest sh… er, stuff.” With a deep sigh he shakes himself out of the memory, then worms his way between his moms and their books, his right haunch against Vines’ chest, shoulder against his mom’s, and front hooves across his sire’s forelegs.

The weight of his moms' necks across his back and withers makes him start feeling drowsy again, but they haven’t taken care of his trees yet, so after a few minutes he finally breaks the silence.

“Do you all feel up to workin on my trees before we go get cleaned up for bed? Today’s the day I was going to set up the organ responsible for making the antiviral attack cells in the Cure Tree or the antigens in the Vaccine one.”

Cure had, at the tax office, ranted about being screwed over by the government’s valuation of his trees. Though the thought crossed his mind it took no more than a single question from his mom for him to change back his stance.

The trees are, in his mind, his strike at the cause of Cyndi’s death, not to mention Edward's or the untold other millions of innocent humans. The suffering and death of one woman made it personal on a level that no number ever could, even if he never actually knew her. The trees will never save a human life, but they’re the means by which countless millions may be spared the agony he remembers vividly at the end.

“I thought you said antigens fight viruses. What’s the difference there, Cure?”

“The antiviral attack cells will basically do the same thing that white blood cells do. They’ll seek out specific protein markers on cells’ surfaces and, when they find them, kill them off. They’ll only be able to target viral markers, though, so they won’t be harmful to the pony. They’ll only live a week, so once the virus has been eradicated they’ll die off and the kidneys will filter them out into the pony’s urine.

“I’m planning on including a vitamin package specifically designed to help kidney function for when that happens. Once we’re done with this tree thing I really need to get working on something like this stuff called medigel from that game I keep referencing. I think I could probably pull off the full blown bacta tank idea, too. I know Water Breathing now, so I think with a mid tier or better crystal I could disregard that concern. The 'soup' somepony goes in would still be mostly water, after all.

“Anyhow, the antigens will just be fake viral cells that’ll train the body’s immune system to attack the virus. Once the immune system knows to target those markers then the pony should be either immune or much, much more resistant if they encounter the virus somewhere. So antigens train the immune system, antiviral cells supplement it.”

“I can help you, sweetie. Just let me know when you’re ready.”

“Thanks dam.” Sighing, Cure continues his explanation. “Next I’ll have to set up the 'wiring' for lack of a better term. That way the tree can pump the antigens or medicine to the fruit. Then I’ll need to modify the fruit themselves. After everything’s set up I think it’ll be time to activate and integrate the whole network, then start training the tree and making sure it’s producing what I want it to.

“I figure by April or May at the latest I should have a working prototype. I may take a little time to try exposing them each to different viruses to make sure they react right, but by summer they should be ready to be presented to the hospital board.”

“Sounds good, champ. I hope they can keep quiet about the source, though. That’s gonna make the news all over the nation.”

“Yeah. I know they’re already getting some pressure from the other hospitals about these medical trials. I’m sure they’ll hafta explain that they found a pony with a healing talent sooner or later. Otherwise everypony’s gonna want to know why they’re not sharing the treatment.”

Title leans down and nips at his scruff. With a flap of skin gently pinched in her teeth she mumbles out, “They can’t have ya!”

“Don’t worry ma,” he insists while nuzzling into her chest. “I’m not goin anywhere.”

Thursday, January 8th, 909 AB (3 days later)

“Again?”

“Yes, Miss Apple, again.”

“I don’t understand, Cure. You just left early a month ago for the same reason.”

“That was a preliminary meeting to make sure I was saving enough. This is my actual tax appointment so I can see how it’s done the first time. I’m really just doing it today because I’m leaving early for the testing in Baltimare anyhow.”

“Right, right… tryin to get outta my class for good, aren’t you?” she asks with narrowed eyes.

“I mean… no offense, but, are you really teaching me much? I spend more time teachin the other foals than anything.”

Sighing, she can’t help but agree despite the sting to her pride as a teacher. Fortunately Cure approached her during recess this time, so she doesn’t have to listen to the snickers and taunts from everypony while they have their conversation.

“Look,” he starts, “either way I’m stickin around until at least the end of the year, okay? If there’s a subject I don’t do well in I’ll probably still be comin to at least a part of the school day. I see other kids comin and goin like that, you don’t seem to mind them much.”

“They’re teenagers, Cure! You’re eight!”

“Do they do any better on your tests than I do?”

“Well, no…” she reluctantly admits.

“Is it ‘cause I help in class?” he softly asks.

“...maybe,” she admits with a pout.

With a sigh he looks up to the tired looking mare. “You’re doing a good job, Miss Apple. It’s not an easy career, and you’re still learning the job.”

Unable to keep the frown off her face, the white mare whines out, “I thought foals were all supposed to be cute and friendly and helpful,” with a deep breath she waves to the empty seats, “not… obstinate and argumentative and… FLATULENT!”

“It’ll just take a year or two of experience, you’re doing great. Would a hug help?”

“Oh, Cure… you’re smart enough to know the answer to that. A hug always helps,” she says, moving beside her desk and laying on her barrel. Cure happily walks over to her, rears up, and hugs the pretty white mare around her neck, nuzzling into her just behind her ear.

“Just don’t give up, Miss Apple,” he insists with a squeeze. “You’re a good teacher and the first year is always the hardest. I bet by the end of the year you’ll have it down pat,” he says, releasing her and sitting on his haunches.

Nodding in acceptance, the mare stands and walks back behind her desk, laying her head down on it. “Thanks, Cure. I guess you’re right,” she sighs out. “Go on,” she says with a shooing motion. “Good luck on your test. And with your taxes, I suppose. Is business really that good?”

“It is. You should come by the candy shop. I think I can give my favorite teacher a freebie. We’ll have stallions seekin yer hoof in marriage by the wagonful, okay?”

With a hopeful smile, head still on her desk, she looks up dreamily. “You think?”

“Not a doubt in my mind, Miss Apple. You’re already very pretty. Come see me at my job and they’ll have an even harder time takin their eyes offa ya.”

Lifting her head off the desk, a new sense of determination fills the mare. With a firm nod, she meets the colt’s eyes. “Okay! I’ll stop by after work next week. You’re doing your guard thing tomorrow, right?”

“Yep. You could always come by Saturday if that works. I’ll be there around one.”

“I’ll be there! The Sweet Emporium, right?”

“Yep. I’ll let Lemon know you’re coming.” Walking towards the door, he calls back over his withers. “Take care, Miss Apple. I’ll see ya in the mornin.”

“Bye, Cure!” As the door shuts, she relaxes and leans into her seat and quietly mumbles to herself. “Stars I hope it works… I need to get laid so bad.”

After a quick trot to City Hall, Cure spots his mom and sire sitting on the same bench again. “Keepin all the mare chasers away, pa?” he asks as he approaches.

“You betchya champ. I’m comin with this time, too. Somepony’s gotta make sure a certain colt doesn’t lose his mind in there.”

“Bah!” he waves a dismissive hoof. “One time!”

“Honey, you were screaming your head off and asking if they wanted your… What was the phrase?” she asks Deed.

Scratching at his chin, Deed mockingly looks up in deep thought. “I believe it was, ‘Does she want the blood from my veins?’ if I recall correctly.”

“Ya missed a word, pa.”

“Polite ponies don’t use that word outside, son.”

“You mean polite ponies prefer to pass if possible prior to proclaiming profane … uhh…”

“Pronouns?” Title suggests.

“Ehh… nah, I don’t think that works. It’s not a pronoun. Screw it. I’ll be good.”

“Shoulda gone with prior to proffering profanity, son.”

“Huh… yeah, I think that works. At least, it’s better than anything I can come up with.” Cure gets lost in thought for a moment, getting an eye roll from his mom and a knowing smirk from his sire. Finally shaking himself out of it he turns to look at the town hall building.

“Finally back, champ?”

“Yep. You two ready?”

“Sure am.”
“Yes, honey.

“Got my ledger?”

“Right here, Cure,” Title says, patting her bag.

“Alright,” he sighs out. “Let’s go. We need to get this done so I can go get tested.” Trotting towards the door, Cure looks up to his sire. “Hey dad? You doing anything this Saturday around one?” he asks with a smirk.

“Umm… no. Not that I can think of. Why, what’s up?”

“Ya remember how I talked about how much of a hottie my teacher is?”

Title starts snickering at the raised brows on her husband’s face and the confused look he’s giving their son. “Yeah. Quite the looker from the couple times I’ve seen ‘er. Why?”

“Well she’s coming by the candy store this Saturday. I overheard her complain about a glaring deficiency in her life you can help with, with dam and mom's approval, of course. How would you like to do some community service?”

Thursday, January 8th, 909 AB (same day still)
Location: Baltimare Board of Education offices

“Good afternoon. May I help you?” the older receptionist, a light blue unicorn, asks the pair.

“Yes, my son is here to take his EGT. Cure Wave, two o’clock?”

The mare looks down at her schedule, finds the name, and waves them to the side. “I’ll let them know you’re here. Just wait a moment, please.”

Cure and Title move off to the side and hop up on a couch. Title has finally gotten to the point where it’s more comfortable to lay on a side than her barrel, so Cure is happy to snuggle right against her belly with his right haunch pressed against her baby bump.

“I swear I don’t know how you sleep at night. You really oughta just let me move stuff around a bit so you can get comfortable.”

“I sleep fine, honey. I’ve always been a back or a side sleeper more anyhow. Besides, you’ve already done plenty. I feel sorry for every other mare out there that has to deal with actual discomfort during pregnancy. You’ve completely spoiled me,” she says, reaching down to squeeze him against her belly harder.

“To be fair, other mares don’t have to put up with me and my sire, so I think we’re about even. Still, can you tell your occupant to stop kickin my flank nonstop?” Cure looks to his right over his withers and calls back to her bump. “C’mon sis, at least wait till yer outta prison to start beatin me up.”

“She just knows you can take it. Quit yer whinin.”

“I guess… it’s the closest I’ll ever get to bein on the receiving end of a massage, I suppose,” he says with a pout.

Title rolls her eyes at the colt, then gets an idea. “Maybe if you do really well I’ll take you to get you a professional massage when we’re done.”

“Huh… that sounds kinda nice. Ed only ever got one and it didn’t go so well.”

“Yeah?”

“Yup,” he lays his head on her shoulder and whispers up into her left ear, “It wasn’t really the masseuse’s fault, though. She just irritated an old basketball injury he totally forgot existed. He only went once ‘cause he had a gift card someone gave ‘em for Christmas.

“He also went to a chiropractor for a couple of months several years later. He had whiplash and some back pain after a car accident, but very little of what the chiropractor did was massage. He had something I don’t think there’s an equivalent for here.”

“Oh?”

“Yep. I don’t remember what it stands for, but it’s called TENS. I think the ENS stands for electro-neurological shock or something like that… no idea what T stands for. They used tiny, tiny bits of electricity to stimulate muscles to, basically, wake them up. I think. I dunno, there didn’t seem to be any benefit beyond what could be chalked up to typical healing, so Ed stopped going after the insurance benefit ran out.”

“I’m not sure I really understand all’a that, but maybe you can fill in some details later,” Title suggests with a shrug.

“Yeah, it looks like we’re about to be called,” he points out as a middle aged pastel yellow unicorn calls his name.

As they start to stand she approaches the pair and explains. “Miss, you can wait here if you’d like, or you may accompany us. We’re simply going to a testing room where your son will take the Early Graduation Test.” She turns to face Cure and continues, “It’ll be scored immediately afterwards, so if you can wait for about thirty minutes you’ll leave with your results today.”

“How long does the test take?” Cure asks.

“You have two hours. Of course, many that take it come prepared and finish in less, but that’s the most time allowed.”

Cure turns to his mom and gives her a nuzzle. “How about you go do some shopping, maybe get a treat or something and come back? You don’t need to wait here.” Looking up to the unicorn he asks, “Are there any good bakeries nearby you’d recommend?”

She nods and, with a kind smile, points down the street. “There sure is. Best in Baltimare if you ask me. It’s right down the street on the left; The Early Bird Beakery.”

“Beakery?”

“The owner is a griffon. I think he found the pun amusing,” she explains with a giggle.

“Hmm… Momma, how bout you wait for me there? I’ll come find you when I’m done here.”

“Sure thing, honey. Good luck,” she says, planting a kiss on his head. “Don’t go showing off too much, ya hear?”

“Sure thing mom. I’ll show off just enough,” he promises with a wink.

Title had poked around the shopping area for a little while. Truth be told, she didn’t see the point anymore. If she or Vines wanted something there was simply no way anypony would have anything fancier than what Cure could make.

Granted, the way he made them was a little squicky, but between herself, Lemon, Amethyst, and Vines they had yet to come up with a logical reason why wearing a transmuted “Cure skin suit” legitimately was worse than used, boiled worm cocoons, shaved sheep hairs, or fake animal skin. Cotton was fine; at least that came from a plant, but that was a terrible material to use for anything that would get rained or snowed on.

Deed thought it was neat and couldn’t care less. He also said he didn’t need any clothes, though, which is true. Cure started converting his sire’s mitochondria just after the Running of the Leaves, so Deed no longer felt the cold like she and her wife still did.

Cure had told the mares that, if he had the help of their magic, he could make them shed a layer of skin and fur and transmute that, so there was no need to pay the boutique mare and be questioned about where all the material is coming from again. Plus, with the “molecular level bonding” Cure mentioned, which resulted in a very interesting Illusion lesson, there would be no seams aside from anywhere buttons, zippers, or other such things would be affixed.

Cure insisted the material was nearly impenetrable, too. The demonstration was an eye-opener, for sure. Title never thought she’d see a piece of cloth bend a metal knife, especially without some kind of enchantment placed on it, but the thick piece of silk did just that. A kitchen knife, granted, but that was still impressive. When she asked how tough it would be with enchantments Cure could only shrug.

She remembers his answer well. “No idea, ma. Damned tough, I’ll tell ya that. I have to give credit to Ferric for being the first one to give me an idea there. She made a comment about those chitin plates I was wearing on Nightmare Night, so my plan once I’m fully grown is to put on about twenty kilos of extra mass and eat a couple jars of crystal dust and do just that, but with a combination of this stuff and the crap our bones are made of.

“I’ve already put a thinner layer of that, minus the dust, under all our skin, so if somepony ever comes at you with a knife just don’t let them hit you in the eyes and, aside from cutting some hair or giving you a small scratch, they should be completely unable to harm you.”

Regardless, after doing some shopping she made her way to the bakery and ordered a box of doughnuts. She would only eat a couple, but the others would appreciate them once they got home. Cure must have absolutely breezed through the test because it was only an hour after leaving him when he showed up with a skip in his step.

“You failed horribly,” she immediately teases.

“Oh yeah, I mean the part with the square roots was super challenging. I mean… multiplying a number by itself? Whaaaaat? That’s crazy talk right there. Here,” he says, reaching in his bag and hoofing over his results.

“I dunno, Cure… I think you should have maybe done a little worse, honestly.”

“Hold that thought, ma. You want anything? I’mma go grab me a latte. Huh, kinda weird that this place is named Early’s too. Think they’re related?”

“I doubt it, sweetie. Just some water. Thanks.”

Title looks down at the results.

Math: 100%
Reading: 96%
Writing: 95%
Science: 100%
Social Studies: 98%

She can’t help but sigh at the results. This will get noticed by somepony, for sure. She barely registers when Cure returns carrying a tray with two slices of pecan pie, a coffee, a milk, and a glass of water.

“Have a piece of pie with me, ma. We’re celebrating. Do you still wanna do the massage thing today? We could always come back on Saturday if you want. Maybe dam will wanna come… I kinda doubt dad will, but I’m darned curious what it feels like to be spoiled like that.” Cure slides the tray onto the table, then hops up to snuggle into his mom’s side, nuzzling into her then sliding a piece of pie and his coffee closer and leaving the milk between them to share.

“He may want to, even if it’s just to spend time with us all before his trip,” she reminds him. Cure’s happy expression sours for just a moment before he nods in acceptance. “You took a while getting those pies. Was something wrong?”

“Nope, just had to see a griffon about a deal. If dad doesn’t want to come then maybe we’ll just schedule it for next Saturday and… Ah fudge! No we won’t because I’ll be busy. Crap!” he corrects himself mid-sentence. “Well, I guess we could do it on a weekday. I did cut back my appointments to one a day while he was gone, after all. I wonder how late they’re open.”

“I dunno, honey. We could always go by there and check before we head home. What do you mean by ‘See a griffon about a deal’?”

“I fixed up the owner’s hips and shoulders in payment for the food,” he answers with a smile. “As for the massage parlor, the three of us can make an evening of it if dad doesn’t mind. Just me and the prettiest two mares in the world. We’ll come over here after my appointment, go get all purtied up, then hit the town. Hmm… I wonder if any of the girls would like to come.”

“I bet they would, honey. I looked at your scores… I thought you were going to hold back some.”

“I considered it. Believe me, I really thought about doing so, but here’s the issue… if I don’t do really well I’m probably blowing any chance to get into a highly ranked magic school IF I decide to go that route.”

“Honey, they only let unicorns in those. You’re too well known to pull off any kind of disguise.”

“I know,” he answers with a mischievous look. “If only there were some kind of complex prosthetic device I could invent that, sadly,” he says with a faux pout, “only a biomanipulator could use that would act as a horn.”

“That’s a terrible idea. Everypony will want to know why you’re not making them for pegasi and earth ponies.”

“Oh I can make them for ‘em, but if they can’t use them because of some kind of metaphysical issue or whatever,” he trails off with a shrug.

“Then how would you be able to use it?”

“Because I’m an earth pony with an active special talent, ma. One of a kind, almost, right?”

“I… guess. I could see that panicking the nobles anyhow though. How’d you do so well in social studies, anyhow? Math and science were a given, but…?”

“Social studies is all memorization, so I made a bunch of cheat sheets for important dates and stuff, then scanned them. It was all pure regurgitation of that stuff.”

“That makes sense,” she agrees, digging into her pie. After a few bites she washes it down with some milk and asks, “So, do you think you actually will try to go to a magic school?”

“I think so.” Cure pauses to look at the other patrons, then activates the Sound Bubble in his bag. “It seems like almost a necessity really. I know magic is complex; I get that, but I’m frustrated beyond belief because there’s almost no pattern to it.

“How the hay can spells like Ice Bolt and Fire Bolt be completely different? Why is the part of Conjure Water absolutely nothing like the sequence of Ice Bolt or even the Ice variant of Magic Missile?”

Shaking his head in annoyance, he continues. “All of the books I’ve read, and keep in mind I’ve spent hundreds of hours on this over the last few months, they all seem to be missing one critical thing that fills in the blanks. How do you actually create a new spell?”

“I dunno, babe. I’ve only ever heard how dangerous it is.”

“Exactly! I think the information is being suppressed. There’s no other way these separate authors independently agreed not to spill the beans. There has to be… well, for lack of a better word, a programming environment for spells. It’s the only reason I can think of why crystals are the way they are. They’re so similar to things humans used to store data it’s ridiculous.”

“How so?”

“A crystal takes, basically, a pre-stored set of commands, AKA a program, saves it, then can run it on command as long as it’s supplied power. It even has another program wrapped around it to do the parts a horn or the pony normally do; making the user aware of its contents, allowing the user to change settings, store energy, and actually executing the spell’s program.

“It all works because Harmony lets it, or wants it to. In stories, higher powers that share with lesser beings typically get something out of it too. Faith maybe?” he suggests with a shrug. “I would assume everypony would say thank Harmony then, not thank Celestia. Then again, if she is a lieutenant maybe it feeds up the chain or whatever.”

“That’s an interesting idea. Maybe that’s why there’s not more alicorns. Why bother if one is good enough?”

“Right, especially if it takes power to create another. Of course, I’m betting there’s circumstances where the return on investment makes it worthwhile. The next one to ascend, for example, has a role to fill that, if she wasn’t there, would result in a net loss of whatever thing would be gained by having her there. The shoe fits given what she ends up doing.”

At Title’s raised brow he explains, “She leads the Crystal Empire. Without her there to unify the ponies as a staunch ally to Equestria who knows what would happen. Bad things if Sombra took over, I’m sure.”

“Huh…”

“Yeah, so anyhow, everypony’s omitting how to create spells, which makes no sense. There should be a book that says, ‘Here is exactly how we go from nothing to a basic Light spell, and here’s why it works’. Then move into the next, more complicated thing.”

“That would make sense,” she agrees. “I’m not sure if school will be your only option for learning how to do it, though.”

“It will be if I’m right and they are actively hiding that information.”

Sighing, the pink mare shakes her head. “Dummy. You could probably hire a tutor and bypass the need to go anywhere.”

“Yeah, I guess. It would just be a matter of finding somepony that knows their stuff then,” he agrees, slurping down the last bit of his latte.

Title stares at him like he’s an idiot for a solid minute until he finally looks up at her. “What?”

“Moron. Who was the first pony you deaged?”

“Uhh… Violet Jewel, right? The retired… I’m an idiot.”

“Sometimes, yes, you are. If she’s retired from teaching she may not want to do it anymore, but maybe she just loves to teach too. Write her a letter, dummy, and maybe if she doesn’t want bits in payment you can finish the job you think you half did already.”

“If she can open the door for me I’ll give her anything she wants. Can you find her address, ma?”

“I’m sure I can. Let’s go.”

Sunday, January 11th, 909 AB (3 days later)
Evening

“Stun?”

“Left pectoral.”

“Shield?”

“Right legpit.”

“Teleport?”

Sighing, he answers. “Left legpit. C’mon, son, we’ve gone over this a dozen times.”

“I don’t care. You can’t use the wrong one, dad. What if you shield when you meant to teleport?”

“I’m 'holding' them, son. I can tell which is which. If I use the wrong one then I’ll run. The shield’ll keep me safe.”

“... Yeah, probably. Still. Where’s the fire bolt?”

“Right pectoral. And I know, that’s a killer. I dunno why I even got it.”

“Ranged DPS, dad. What if you need to shoot thru a wall or bring down an enemy’s shield? Stun won’t do it. Blast them with the bolt, chase it with the stun, and keep moving. I’m not sure I would recharge the fire bolt; that’s basically set for maximum damage by default so the nine shots will take almost all of your magic. You could scale it down and get twenty or so though.”

“Uhh… how much damage are we talkin here, son?”

“I don’t know how to answer that. Each will blow clean through a mound of dirt though. Or a limb, or unenchanted armor, or maybe a thinner pony. It’s a pretty good shield breaker and they won’t be expecting ranged attacks from an earth pony. Just make sure you open the lid concealing that and stun before you fire. The others can stay closed.”

“Sun and stars, Cure… he’s going to the capital, not on a dragon hunt.”

Ears perking up, he turns to his mom. “They have those?”

All three parents recoil, looking at him with horrified faces.

“Son… we don’t hunt anycreature, especially intelligent ones.”

“Just askin,” he defends with an innocent look. “Mom’s the one that said it, not me.”

“I was joking,” she sternly insists.

“How would I know?” he asks with a shrug. “I figured if some dragon, ya know… like, ate somepony then we go hunt 'em down,” he says, grinding one hoof into the other.

“Why?” Vines asks.

“I dunno. Mount their head on a pike, use their scales for armor. Maybe send a couple parts to the dragon nation as a warning? I wouldn’t mind trying a dragon steak while we’re at it,” he says, licking his chops.

Vines covers her mouth with a hoof, looking ill. Title just shakes her head and sighs.

“Son… No. We don’t hunt anycreature an’ we definitely don’t turn ‘em inta armor. We especially don’t go puttin heads on pikes, and we damn sure don’t eat them. Stars I never thought I’d hafta tell my colt not ta go around eatin creatures,” he sighs.

“They’re okay eating us. It’s a dragon eat pony eat dragon world, pa, and ain’t no creature eatin this pony, I’ll tell ya that. Besides, I bet mountin their head would work ta scare off the others,” he points out.

“It would work to start a war,” Title insists.

“Hence the need for the armor. Duh?”

Deed shoots his son a warning look. “Colt…”

“Oh come on, I’m joking! Even humans wouldn’t… Well, yeah, some would. But most wouldn’t even kill another intelligent being. That’s actually something they specifically have to train soldiers to do.” At their judging stares he defensively says, “I’m not any more violent than most ponies. Usually.”

“I dunno, sweetie… I don’t think most ponies make sure to pack so many weapons for a trip.”

Pausing for a moment he clarifies, “Okay maybe I am a little more violent, but y’all are damn near complete pacifists, so that’s not saying much. Really, though, do you trust that dad can go a full week without us around to keep an eye on him without getting in some kind of trouble.”

“Hey…”

Vines looks at the pouting stallion. As much as she would really like to disagree with her son, Deed is a little irresponsible at times. “Well…” she wavers under his pitiful stare, then, when she can’t take any more, turns back to her son. “You have a point.”

“I ain’t that bad.”

“With dam and mom keeping you out of trouble and in a backwoods hick town you’re not.”

“It’s nice here,” Vines defends.

“It is,” he quickly agrees. “That doesn’t mean I’m wrong though.”

“He’s right,” Title quickly interjects. “This is pretty rural, babe. I still don’t think our husband needs a squad’s worth of scrolls and crystals, but there’s no harm in him being prepared.”

“Yeah, just be careful you don’t accidentally set any of those off if you find some cute unicorn or something, dad. I dunno how you’d explain that away.”

“Oh my stars!” Title snorts out laughing. “Can you imagine him accidentally teleporting mid coitus! Hahaha! Right into the hotel lobby mid-thrust!”

“Title!” Vines admonishes, “You behave!”

Cure makes a grossed out face. “I would prefer to not imagine that, thank you.”

“Me too, champ. That sounds a bit awkward, especially if she came along for the trip.”

“At least you could blame her then. I think it would be worse to just pop up in there by yourself with the Full Monty on display. Then again, lots of mares aren’t getting the lovin they need. Some may appreciate the offer. My teacher apparently did,” he adds with a snicker while giving his sire a hoofbump.

“I think we’re getting off topic, honey,” Vines growls out, done with this line of discussion.

“She’s right. You have your hidden bits in the mane pouch?”

“Yep. Four one thousand bit coins.”

“And you have the Slow Fall by your navel, right?”

“Yep. I’m ready for war, son. That seminar won’t know what hit ‘em.”

“Good. I’ve made you immune to every class of drug they have at the clinic or I have a venom sample of. If somepony sticks you with a needle it shouldn’t get through your skin and if you disable the dermal nerves like I showed ya a stunner should discharge around the subdermal mesh. If anypony tries to take you, use whatever force you gotta to get to the palace. I know you’ll be safe there, at least.”

“Dunno why you think they’ll know who I am.”

“Because your name’s on my birth certificate and the princess has certainly seen my file by now.”

“Huh… guess that’s true.”

“Yep. Just don’t forget to declare your arsenal if you’re taken to Her. Just do it while you’re bowing or something.”

With a deep sigh and an eye roll, Deed tiredly nods. “Sure thing, champ.”

“Alright,” he says with a sigh, “I think you’re ready to go then.”

“Yep. Just need my bags an’ I’m all set.”

Before Deed stands to leave he’s wrapped up by both mares and rolled on his back, happily accepting the deluge of kisses and nuzzles from his wives. Finally both settle down, sat on each side with their heads on his chest between his forelegs. “I love you both. I’ll see ya in a week, ‘kay?”

“Have fun, babe.”
“Be careful, sweetie. Love you too.”

“Alright ladies. I gotta go. Can’t miss the train, after all.” Reluctantly, the two mares stand and give him room to roll upright. He gives each another kiss and nuzzle, then motions to the door. “C’mon sport, let’s go.” He slips his bags on as Cure gets up and heads to the door.

Catching a few familiar scents, Cure opens it to Lemon and Amethyst; the former just about to knock and the latter carrying both daughters on her back. “Didn’t miss him, did we?” Lemon asks.

“Nope, almost though,” he answers, moving out of the way to let the two in.

The girls hop down and, after a nuzzle with Cure, sedately follow their moms into the room where Lemon and Amethyst are giving Deed some goodbye affection too. The four are staying the night, so the mares will all be in the master bedroom and Cure gets to snuggle with the fillies in his room once he gets home.

After a few more goodbyes Deed finally separates from the group and he and Cure take off for the station.

“Alright son. I’m countin on ya ta watch after the ladies while I’m gone.”

“Don’t worry, pa. I’ll keep them mare chasers away, guaranteed.”

“I knew ya would, champ.”

The two stand in silence for a moment, Cure content to lean on his sire and nuzzle into the stallion’s side. “Hey dad?”

“Yeah?”

“Be careful. I’m not joking. Don’t trust anypony you don’t know. Don’t even completely trust them if they’re a guard, okay? It’s not that hard to get official looking armor or, probably, steal a real set.”

The serious look his son is giving him drives home the point even more than the dozen scrolls and five crystals he’s insisted his sire be equipped with. The colt’s memories are full of one loss after another and, as unlikely as it is he’ll need any of that stuff, it is a little comforting to know that, unless all Tartarus breaks loose, he has everything he needs to come home to his family safe and sound.

Sitting on his haunches, Deed wraps his son in a hug, lifting him and planting a big kiss right between his ears. “Don’t you worry about me, son. Just keep the mares and yerself outta trouble. Got it?”

“Yeah. I love you, dad. I’ll see you in a week. And just so you know, if you’re not on the train coming in from Baltimare next Saturday I’ll be on the next train to Canterlot ready to turn the place upside down and inside out lookin for ya.”

Nodding in understanding, Deed sets the colt down. He is absolutely sure that is not an idle promise, and he’d really rather not see what kinda mess his son could cause in the kind of mood he would no doubt be in upon arrival at the capital.

“Love you too, Cure. I’ll keep that in mind.”

“’kay. You better go. They’re leavin in a minute. See ya, pa.”

Turning to board the train, he gives one last goodbye over his withers. “See ya next Saturday, son.”