Saturday, February 7th, 909 AB (6 days later)

“Are ya sure you should be givin yer boss flowers, son? I think most places frown on that kinda fraternization.”

“Har har, pa. I somehow suspect that Ms. Gale will be able to resist the urge to leap over the table and have her wicked way with me.”

Cure, with help from his dam, had made a set of flowers like he had for Glacial and Drift for Hearth’s Warming. He figures it’s the least he can do considering how great she’s been. The fact she took care of the request for Solar was no small feat, after all.

Cure doesn’t really consider them square; he still feels like he owes her a favor, despite his mom’s assurance that most ponies don’t keep track like that. Still, a small bit of effort, some magic, and twenty bits for a planter and some potting soil don’t equate to a prestigious, exclusive party invite in Cure’s book.

Cure had used a Sending crystal the previous morning and she had a pegasus run a message out saying she and Dr. Care would be happy to meet during his normal shift.

This is the first time since he helped with the births that he wasn’t flying to Baltimare to fix somepony’s disabled or missing horn or wing. Deed had opted to accompany him alone for the meeting.

“I dunno, champ. If yer anything like yer old pa the ladies may be incapable of holdin back.”

“Uh huh. Well at least I’ve come by it honest. I’ve already got two, maybe four. Hell, maybe six… seven? I don’t even freaking know,” Cure half-complains. “I dunno how this is all supposed to work, dad. Monogamy has some issues, sure, but at least it’s… not simple exactly, but certainly more straightforward.”

“I suppose,” Deed halfheartedly agrees, “but I never dated a unicorn. That whole possessive thing just don’t work for us, son. I tells ya what, champ. I’ll give ya a scenario and you just ponder on it a minute, okay?”

“Sure. Lay it out for me, pa.”

“Alright, so let’s say ya have a pretty lil unicorn lady, right?”

“Uh huh.”

“And ya got yerself a big strong earth pony stallion.”

“Okay.”

“Now on average, how tall ‘n heavy is the mare?”

“Dad, I know where you’re going with this, but that scenario doesn’t apply here.”

“Not as much, but to a degree, it does. That mare’ll be a hoof and a half, maybe two hooves shorter ‘n a hundred kilos less than the stallion. That part may not apply, but what about the things that magic does that ya just can’t make up for?”

“Like… stamina and strength?”

“You betcha, champ. I know a few earth ponies what married another tribe. Ain’t a one of ‘em that doesn’t have an earth pony wife too. Just like Spring, Berry, ‘n Silver. Now I ain’t a gossip, ya feel me, colt? But Silver comes down ta the Tilted Wagon sometimes too, and purty as she is, Spring just can’t take care ‘a Silver by herself.”

“Huh. I gotta be honest, pa. Ever since you gave me that damn closet speech,” Cure pauses to glare at his sire’s snorted laugh, “every time I see Spring … Well, questions come to mind.”

Deed bursts out laughing at the uncomfortable expression on Cure’s face. “Ponies come in all sizes, son,” he says with a chuckle. “Good thing for her, so do closets!” he shouts, followed by a deep, boisterous laugh.

“Ugh… I would say TMI but frankly I’ve seen about six hundred snatches by now. I’m pretty sure I’ve seen just about anything you can imagine. At least, as far as ponies go.”

“I reckon that all them scans helped with the thing ya got in here.”

“Not at all, actually.” Cure glances over to his sire and his spatially compressed bags. “That’s all thanks to the twins, actually.” Quickly clarifying he adds, “Your twins, I mean. Not Heavy’s sisters.”

“I kinda figured, sport. I thought it had ta be somethin ya magicked up based on everypony ya scanned though.”

“Nope. No matter the pony we all have those cells at the start. Just think, pa, if these work like I think they should then your and dam’s twins will end up saving more lives than anypony that’s ever lived. Well… probably. Anecdotally.”

“Huh. That’s pretty amazing, son. Here’s hopin.”

“Yeah. The scans did help with other stuff, though. I still need more scans of stallions but, one way or another, those’ll happen eventually. I’ve only scanned about twenty so far all year and only four have had the one issue. Still, that’s enough I feel I’m gonna have to let the boss lady know when I see her.”

Nodding along, Deed agrees, “Probably a good idea, champ. If fer nothin else so she can start plannin for the changes that’ll happen over the comin years. Ya know, one group ya won’t find in this town are them tall earth ponies. Ain’t none of them ‘round here. No hippogriffs either.”

“Uhh… are hippogriffs considered ponies, dad? I’m not trying to be a tribalist, I just don’t know.”

“They have a pony dam or sire, son. They’re plenty pony enough by my reckoning.”

“Huh. Good point. That’s probably one of those things foals don’t know and ask about at inopportune times normally.”

“That they do, champ. I’ve heard of ‘em pointin a hoof at one in tha store ‘n shoutin ‘Hey dam, what’s that?’ at the top’a their lungs.”

“Oof. That’s awkward. Josh did something like that once to Cyndi. This was before Ed met her. They were at the store and he was like four. Well, apparently there was a rather corpulent fellow at the register… err, the cashier’s counter-”

“I know what a register is, son. Ya just don’t see many ‘cause they ain’t cheap.”

“Oh. Sorry. I don’t think… wait, that bookstore in Canterlot had one. Damn, it didn’t even…” Cure chokes back a snerk, then overemphasizes, “it didn’t register at the time! BAHAHA!”

“Ugh… dad jokes are my job, colt.”

“Whatever. I’m hilarious. Anyhow,” Cure pauses to smile and wave at a passing mare. She’s a customer of his he did a manejob for a few weeks back. “Anyhow,” he continues, ignoring his sire’s smirk, “so they’re behind this lardass at the register and Josh points at the dude and blurts out, ‘Mommy! Why’s that man so fat? Is that why I can’t have Ho Hos?’

“Just for reference, Ho Hos were like a chocolate sheet cake with a frosting, then rolled up with a thin chocolate shell.”

“Huh. Sounds good. Ya oughta run some of them ideas past Lemon. She may like one.”

“Yeah, not a bad idea. So, anyhow, the fat dude apparently didn’t take it well. His cart was full of Twinkies, Cupcakes, Ding Dongs, and a ton of Pepsi and Doritos. Basically all shit food that’ll turn anyone into a fatass, right? Cyndi insists she didn’t see any actual Ho Hos in the cart, though, so I’m not sure why Josh picked that of all the damn things, but kids, ya know?”

Deed doesn’t say anything, he just gives Cure a knowing look.

“So this poor guy turns around, looks at Josh, looks at Cyndi, looks back at his cart, and just walks right out of line there on the spot. Didn’t say shit or anything, didn’t even acknowledge her trying to apologize or get Josh to. God I hope the dude didn’t go hang himself or something.” Cure waits a few seconds then adds, “He woulda broke the tree! HA!”

Deed doesn’t laugh at all, instead looking at his son curiously. “Hang himself?”

“Oh. That must be something ponies never considered. Uhh… it’s a method of committing suicide that’s associated with depression. And now I feel like a dick for joking about it. Ugh.”

“Damn, son… That’s a little messed up.”

“Yeah,” he agrees, “it’s called gallows humor, pa. You know what gallows are? Is that a thing here? I bet not if hanging is unfamiliar.”

“Can’t say I do, son.”

“That’s good, I suppose. It’s not a happy subject. I’ll spare you the details and just say that gallows are where they would execute people. Gallows humor is a joke about a subject that’s normally not funny at all.”

“Ah. Gotcha. I figured it was somethin like that. Ya know, I recall a certain cerulean colt causin a scene like that once.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yup. I wanted ta surprise yer dam, so I decided ta take ‘er out ta early dinner for Hearts ‘n Hooves over in Baltimare. You were only three, almost four, at the time and, on the way home, were runnin around while we waited fer the train to pull in.

“Well, ya musta annoyed this young unicorn mare and she said somethin to ya, no idea what; just behave or whatnot. You stopped ‘n looked up at her and, loud as can be, gave a big ‘ol sniff and asked, ‘Why do ya smell funny?’”

“Oh my God…”

“Yep. She was in town from the capital and, as you know…”

“She had her estrus hit on the way here.”

“Sure did. Or close enough. She musta forgot ta pack her medicine cause she was ready. I remember when ya came runnin back ta yer dam and I… she was mortified on that mare’s behalf.”

“Wait… you told me that was the scent of a beautiful flower -”

“just startin ta bloom! HA! I’m surprised ya remember, colt.”

“Eh, some things stick, ya know?”

“That they do, son. That they do.”

“So back to the topic at hoof, what about kirin? Are they considered ponies at all?”

“No. Why in the hay would they be?”

“Aren’t they… like, what you get when a dragon and a pony have a kid?”

Deed looks at his son like he grew a second head. “No. Where did ya hear that?”

“I don’t know… I think maybe Ed read a story where it happened and the foal was a kirin. Are they a totally separate species like zebras?”

“I… think so? I dunno, champ. I’ve never even seen one. Then again I don’t know what happens when a dragon and a pony try to have a foal, neither. I’m bettin a disappointed dragon and a scratched up pony with third degree burns. I don’t care ta ponder on tha results of a mare ‘n a dragon tryin,” he adds with a shudder.

“Huh. Hey, pa, what do you think about running a newspaper article to try to get more scans? Minotaurs, diamond dogs, dragons… I could use a few more griffons too. Twenty bits to show up, let me, in disguise, use my talent on ya, and I’ll even heal ya if I can. Think I would get a few hits?”

“I think you’d save yerself some bits and trouble just goin down to the docks and speaking to a few boat captains. Plenty ‘a minotaur, griffons, and an occasional abyssinian comes through there. Zebras too, of course. Heck, I bet you set up a stand with a sign that says ‘Hangover Cure, ten bits’ you’d have a line halfway ‘cross tha ocean.”

“Hangovers take a lot of water to fix. I can help them, but it’s not immediate like cuts, breaks, etcetera. We’ll hafta test that, pa. Also, I think zebras are similar to us as far as their make-up.”

“I don’t think they are, champ. They’re not strong like us.”

“Yeah but that’s on the metaphysical side. I’m pretty sure they have the TK field, though maybe not as strong. Dunno. Do abyssinians have magic at all?”

“Uhh… I think they do. I’m not sure though. Gotta be honest, son. Yer old pa ain’t been around the world a lot.”

“Fair enough, dad. One day you’ll be able to if ya want. You ever been to Las Pegasus? If it’s like the equivalent I’m familiar with, you could have some fun there.”

“I haven’t. We used to talk about goin to places like that, but honestly I think yer dam and I are more the cabin in the woods, hiking, and quiet sunset dinner kinda ponies, champ. Yer ma, though, she’s got a wild streak in ‘er when she drinks.”

“Yeah I can see that. She’s definitely the wild one between the three of ya. Dam, bless her heart, I just can’t see her cutting loose.” Cure goes quiet for a few steps and looks up. Deed, sensing the serious look, turns to look down. “Dad, I’m going to ask you something and, before you answer one way or another, I want to promise you that there’s very very little chance I’ll become violent either way, alright?”

“Not exactly encouraging…”

“Did her family hurt her? I know they broke her heart, but… ya know what I mean, right?”

Deed takes a deep breath and slowly exhales. Facing forwards again he answers, “They did not. You don’t have to worry about that, son. They hurt her by turning their rears on her, but they never laid a hoof on ‘er.”

“Okay. I can… not exactly accept that, but they don’t have to worry about Vendetta or anything.”

“That… sounded kinda like one of yer capital letter words, son.”

“Yeah. It should.”

“...”

“There’s Ms. Gale. I hope she likes ‘em. C’mon,” he calls, trotting ahead.

As usual, once Cure and Deed get into “typical pony” visual range the cheery pegasus brightens up and waves a wing in their direction. “Good morning, Cure! Good morning, Mr. Deed! How are you both doing today?”

“Pretty good, Ms. Gale,” Cure cheerily replies as they follow her in the clinic. He calls out a greeting to River as they pass by the desk and make their way to the usual meeting room. As they enter they find Dr. Care sitting on the other side doing some paperwork. She quickly puts it all away and greets them both. Surprisingly, Mrs. Hire is present as well.

“Hiya, Dr. Care, Mrs. Hire! Ms. Gale, I brought ya a thank you gift. I hope that’s not inappropriate, but I wanted to show my appreciation for your help with those tickets, not to mention how accommodating ya always are.”

“Oh, Cure! You didn’t need to get me anything… Are those flowers for me?” she asks, pointing a wing at Deed’s back.

“You betcha. They’re special, too. Maybe put ‘em on the floor instead of the table, dad?”

Deed squats down so Cure can rear up and, using his lightening aura on the pot, easily lifts them off his sire’s back while balancing himself on his hind legs. He sets them to the side of the table and, out of sheer curiosity, Dr. Care comes over to investigate as well. Mrs. Hire is seated closest to the edge of the table and able to see easily.

“So yeah, these flowers are for you, but don’t worry, I’m not askin ya out on a date,” he teases with a wink. The gray pegasus giggles at the joke and gives him a fake pout. “Just like those tickets for Solar, I tried to think up presents for all my other friends. A pegasus filly I hang out with mentioned that high quality, scented oil isn’t cheap, so I made these plants for her and the other pegasus in our group.

“The flowers themselves aren’t too special, but the leaves extrude a little oil. They’d be great for a touch-up or maybe to pack for travel or something. The bulbs are filled with a perfumed hydrophobic, antifungal, safe-to-eat, so forth and so on oil that, according to them, is really nice.

“It’s based on the gland that ducks have, just better and scented like each flower. If you prefer another flower just say the word; I can make them smell like just about anything. OH! I almost forgot, their sires prefer the leaves ‘cause they don’t smell as strong.”

Deed, during Cure’s explanation, moves out of the way and is sitting by the table looking over the mares with amusement. The three, Gale in particular, are thoroughly impressed by a pot of pretty flowers, meanwhile he’s standing there with, possibly, the biggest breakthrough in medical history in his saddlebags.

Nosing at the flowers, Gale can’t help but remark, “Woooow! That’s amazing, Cure! They smell wonderful!” Looking around for a second she asks, “Does anypony have something we could cut one of these open with?”

“Ah, I’ve got something,” Cure responds, holding up a hoof. The three mares freeze on the spot when, right out of the edge of his hoof, he sprouts a small claw not unlike a cat’s. It’s not big or scary, but from their wide-eyed stare it was certainly unexpected. Cure plucks a bulb from the lily stalk, turns his hoof over so it’s facing upwards, then sheds a thin layer of keratin into a small dish before cutting open the bulb.

The ease with which the cut happens and the clean, straight nature of it don’t escape Dr. Care’s notice, and she can’t help but comment. “That looks like a cut from a scalpel, Cure. How can you make a claw so sharp?”

“It’s just a very fine edge. Unicellular, in fact. Keratin won’t stay sharp long, but since I can reform it as needed it might as well be a scalpel.”

“Huh… that’s useful.”

“Eh, I’m sure it would be if I ever did surgery. Thankfully I don’t see that being something I need to worry about. There’s not many everyday uses for a knife, thank goodness. Here,” he says, retracting the claw and hoofing over the small dish, “see what you think. I didn’t think to bring a brush, like a dummy. Sorry.”

“Oh! It smells amazing, Cure!”

Dr. Care looks at the dish and asks, “Not that I doubt you or anything, but are you sure it’s hypoallergenic?”

Cure wrinkles his snout in thought for a moment, looking intently at the oil. “I’m pretty sure it should be. I guess it’s almost a given that somepony out there may be allergic to it, or more specifically the pollen, but so far I haven’t heard anything. Just like any other product it’s probably a good idea to try it on a small spot first and make sure you don’t have a reaction.”

“That’s a good idea. Gale, I’d put a dab on the back of a foreleg just to play it safe. I’m confident Cure’s stuff will work, but like he said, there’s somepony out there allergic to almost anything you can come up with. You don’t want to find out you’re the unlucky one after putting it all throughout your wings.”

“Definitely not! I’ll try it out when I get home, Cure!” She sets the little tray on the table and almost leaps on Cure, wrapping him in her forelegs and, with slowly flapping wings, lightens him with her aura, and wiggles back and forth squeezing him to her chest in a tight hug. “Thank you so much! You’re such a doll!” she cheerily shouts, giving the blushing colt a nuzzle between his ears before setting him back down.

Even Dr. Care can’t hold back a slight chuckle at the bewildered colt as he makes a quick retreat to the other side of his sire. Gale, in her own little world, happily picks up the pot while humming a cheery tune and sets it by her chair between the other two mares, stealing occasional glances over. Every time she looks at the flowers her wings give a little flutter that Cure and Deed both find adorable.

“Right, so, Gale said you had something to share with us. Given you requested my presence I’ll assume it wasn’t just for flowers… unless you have another bouquet for me in your pack?” she asks with a slight smile.

“Not flowers, exactly. I think you’ll like this even better. Mrs. Hire? Not that I’m not happy to see you, but I’m surprised you came too. Horn’s not giving you any trouble, is it?”

Looking a little uncomfortable, the light brown mare begins, “Oh, no! That’s simply wonderful! I can’t thank you enough, again. It’s been an absolute life changing experience being able to finally do everything most unicorns can. And, of course, I’m delighted to see you, too, Cure. Unfortunately I felt it necessary for me to come in pony to address a CR issue.”

“CR?” he confusedly mumbles. When it dawns on him that means Creature Resources he lights up in realization, then is confused again. “Is something wrong with my paperwork or something?”

“No, no,” she assures him, “There’s nothing to worry about there. I did, however, get… I guess a complaint? It’s related to an incident that occurred at the Hearth’s Warming party.”

Still confused he asks, “The drinks? Alcohol doesn’t…” he trails off when she shakes her head no.

“A few older fillies complained that you threatened their friend and broke the game they were using at the time.”

“Ahh. The foals that tried to bully me,” he says, nodding his head. “What about them? I asked if anypony wanted to play shoe toss, the colt got in my face, and, I’ll admit, I did damage one of the three boards there, which I’ve already paid to replace.”

“So you did not threaten anypony?” she asks.

“Not at all. I mean, the other colt was two hooves taller than me and there were several fillies there. I didn’t threaten anypony,” he insists, brows furrowed.

Perfect Hire can tell he’s beginning to get frustrated, but dealing with issues like this, unpleasant as it is, is part of her job. Being the Assistant Director of Creature Resources means she doesn’t have the option of passing the bit to anypony else. “The complaint indicated you bent a metal bar in half, then straightened it out, then waved it menacingly at another foal.”

Flat out pissed at this point, Cure opens his mouth to respond, but Dr. Care cuts in first. “Did he strike anypony?”

“No… nothing in the complaint says anything about him doing anything actually harmful.”

The doctor fires back, “Then why even bring it up? Foals got into an argument. Nopony was hurt. He replaced the damaged equipment. Can we move on now?” she practically growls.

Hire turns fully to face the doctor and snaps back, “I got a complaint that I have to address. I’m addressing it! When we have a discussion about anything medical I’ll defer to you, but I can’t just ignore a complaint from an employee!”

Deed and Gale both look incredibly uncomfortable, but sit quietly. Gale scoots back slightly so she’s not directly between them, moving her plant behind her rear in case they trade blows.

“Fine!” Dr. Care shouts, turning to Cure. “Did that happen?”

“Yeah, I would argue that I didn’t do anything menacingly, but the facts are otherwise correct.”

She turns back to Hire and asks, “Is it addressed now? Is there something else you need?”

Hire, clearly pissed as well, growls out, “I need a signature damnit!” while slamming an incident form on the table, then slides it to Cure.

He looks it over. It’s a narrative of the incident and little more. The signature line indicates he accepts that the narrative is accurate, he accepts responsibility for the conflict, and has been consulted on the matter. “First off, none of this would have happened if that colt wasn’t a bully prick. He’s lucky I’m not a violent pony or it wouldn’t have been the stupid game that got broken. Also, this is for an employee. I’m an unpaid volunteer now, aren’t I?”

Every head turns to Hire who clarifies, “You’re technically an employee but you’re donating your wages.”

“Fine,” he says, picking up the paper and ripping it in half before throwing it across the table. “I quit. Take this form back to whatever filly’s parent it belongs to and tell them what their brat foal just cost you.”

All three mares look like they’re about to be sick.

“Uhh, sport?”

“What? I came here to hoof over, basically, panacea, and apparently it’s not as important as a foal’s argument that happened a month and a half ago that wasn’t even started by me and ended peacefully. If the Baltimare RHA thinks dealing with this is a good use of my time then I’ll find something else to do with it. Maybe I’ll hop on the train to Canterlot. I bet Dr. Crystal will be thrilled to have her name associated with this instead.”

“No! No!” Dr. Care shouts, emphatically waving her hooves side to side. “That’s not necessary!” Turning fully on Mrs. Hire, she points a hoof at the door. “Take that form, get back on that fucking train, and tell whoever filled that complaint they’re fired if I ever see their name on a piece of paper again!”

“You!” Hire points back, standing and getting in the doctor’s equinal space, “can’t fire anypony! That’s a CR function!”

The doctor stands so they’re chest to chest, despite the half-earth pont’s taller, broader stature. “I think you’ll find I very much CAN fire somepony. I am the CHIEF PHYSICIAN of a major metropolitan area! YOU would be AMAZED at how short the list of ponies I CAN’T have fired is! When the rest of the board hears that complaint almost made him walk you may find YOUR name is NOT on that list!”

Cure isn’t exactly sure what a chief physician is. It sounds pretty important, though. Judging from the look on Mrs. Hire’s face it’s probably a higher one than an Assistant Director of Creature Resources.

“Uhh, ladies,” Deed hesitantly calls. “I think maybe a foal’s argument has gotten out of hoof. Cure? Sign the form.”

“What? Why? I didn’t start that crap!”

“Did you do it?” he knowingly asks.

“Yeah, but-”

He points a large hoof at the torn form and sternly says, “Pick your battles, son. This ain’t worth all that.”

Grumbling, Cure looks at Dr. Care, “Do you know Mending?”

The two mares separate, each returning to their seat. Gale slowly inches forward so she’s at the table again, still looking a little nervous.

“Yes, but this is ridiculous,” she growls, piecing the form back together with her spell, then sliding it, along with a quill and ink pot, to Cure. She stares angrily at Mrs. Hire the whole time.

Cure reaches in his bag and pulls out a fountain pen, then signs the form and, scowling, slides it back across the table to Mrs. Hire, who now looks rather unhappy with how everything went.

“Are there any other Creature Resource issues you wanted to address, Mrs. Hire?” he tersely asks.

“No, that was the only one. Again, I’m sorry I even had to bring it up,” she softly admits.

“Me too. If there’s no other CR issues then I thank you for coming.” Silence hangs in the air as he stares impassively at the mare.

She stares back for a moment before the dismissal registers. She scowls and takes a breath to respond when Gale puts a hoof on her foreleg and shakes her head. Hire blows the breath back out, then gathers up the form, puts it and the rest of her things in her saddlebag and leaves without saying a word.

Everypony sits in silence for a minute until Cure lets out a sigh and decides to get on with it.

“Well, that’s not how I expected this to go.”

“Sorry about that, Cure,” Dr. Care warmly apologizes. “Neither of us knew why she insisted on coming. I suppose I should have comported myself more professionally as well. I am excited to see what you have to present today, though. You said something earlier about panacea?”

“Right.” Cure pauses to take a calming breath before continuing. “I was talkin to my folks the other day about how I’m happy with how the healing is going on weekends where you have somepony for me to fly over to help out. Heck, I think my shifts here are fine too, it’s just I felt like I’ve been really underutilizing my talent.”

“Oh? I hope you’re not putting too much pressure on yourself, son. I know you’re very mature for your age, but…” She trails off when Cure shakes his head no.

“No, see, that’s actually a great point, Dr. Care. I think most ponies, if they have a healing talent, they think, ‘Oh I need to go out and heal as many ponies as I can!’ Well, that’s admirable and all, but horribly inefficient under these circumstances.” Tapping his chest he finishes, “One pony is still only one pony, know what I mean?”

The two mares nod in acknowledgement, so Cure continues. “One pony can only do so much themselves. But what if it doesn’t have to just be me, myself, fixing patients? What if there was a way I could make something,” he motions to the oil plants, “that helps the brilliant doctors all over the nation help ponies instead?”

“That… would be phenomenal, Cure,” Dr. Care answers, somewhat confused, “but… are you talking about developing some kind of treatment for something?”

“Sort of. Bear with me here, when I scan something my talent doesn’t provide labels, ya know?”

“Sure. Okay.”

“When conception occurs there’s a small window where the embryo is… well, honestly, I’m not sure if embryo is even the right word at that stage.”

“How long after conception are we talking?”

Deed and Gale sit by quietly and watch as the doctor and Cure continue.

“I’ve scanned my dam every day since the next morning,” Cure explains. Both mares make a face as if they’ve taken a bite of something very unpleasant, meanwhile Deed can’t help but cover his face and quietly snicker.

“Yeah,” Cure adds, slowly nodding with a stricken face, “my talent ain’t exactly for the squeamish,” he solemnly explains. “Anyhow, I’m talking for the first few days after my brother and sister were conceived.”

“Twins?” Gale excitedly asks, reverting right back to her happy mood. “Oh my stars! Congratulations, Mr. Deed! I’m so happy for you! OH! Speaking of which, and sorry, I’m getting us a tad off topic, amazing work with the births, Cure!

“They kept your name out of the paperwork, but everypony on the board was very impressed with your performance. Especially with the redesigned workflow… that must have been exhausting for you,” she sympathetically finishes.

“Eh, it wasn’t that bad.”

“Ya fell asleep takin yer gown off, son.”

“Only the first time! That was two days in a row of working over ten hours! Not to mention how much magic I burned through, especially on day two.” Cure looks to Dr. Care and explains, “I’m not exaggerating, doc, I musta used enough magic on that second day that even you woulda run dry. Well, maybe, if you did it all at once.”

“Wow. That hardly seems possible for a foal your age. How’d you stay awake all day?”

“He didn’t,” Deed answers.

Cure ignores him, “Spite and stubbornness, I guess. And yes, I did!” he growls back to his sire, poking a hoof at his side. “I didn’t fall asleep until everypony was taken care of!” He turns back to Dr. Care and finishes, “I also ate like… twice my own body weight in sweets, I swear. If I couldn’t burn fat like I can I’d have a pooch right now.”

“A pooch?” Gale asks.

“A fat pouch hangin offa my belly,” he explains, tapping at his washboard-flat tummy and getting snickers from the two mares.

“Gale is right. That was very impressive work, Cure. Those freed up ponies helped quite a bit here and in Fillydelphia. If there’s ever anything you need, I assure you the board will be happy to help however we all can.”

“Cool. Thanks, doc!” he cheers, getting a warm smile back from Dr. Care. “So, anyhow, I found a very interesting cell structure in those early scans from my siblings. I don’t know what they’re called-”

“Origin cells?” she excitedly asks. “Or progenitor cells, but typically they’re called origin cells. We’ve theorized about their existence, and I’m sorry for interrupting, but if you’ve actually witnessed them, that’s amazing!”

“Yep. Let’s set everything up.”

“You bet, champ.” Deed pops open his right saddlebag as Cure reaches into his left. They both pull out plants, of a sort, that look unlike anything Dr. Care or Gale have ever seen. Each one removes two from the spatial bags, arranging them in a square on the table.

They each look like short tree trunks, though with a smooth nearly-black wood and no bark. Discounting the pots they are in, which barely fit in the bags’ openings, each is about eight hooves tall and have a diameter of about a hoof and a half. Cure had made them small enough to fit in the spatial bags specifically to avoid transporting them out in the open in town.

The two mares share a wary look and slowly scoot back from the table as Cure speaks up. “These’ll need to be repotted, but I didn’t wanna walk through town with this thing just out. It looks too weird,” Cure explains. He slides the four plants together and, with a hoof on the two closest, activates his talent.

From Dr. Care and Gales’ point of view the two trees he’s touching reach out with tendrils, like vines, that grab the other two then all pull together in the middle of the four pots, merging to form a single plant split between them. Deed has his hoof on his son’s withers to provide extra magic just in case, but sat on the other side of the table, their line of sight is blocked.

From the side to the mares’ right a downward curved tendril emerges, looking similar to a spigot with an opening about three hooves from the table surface, then another appears on the opposite side as well. About halfway up the plant a single flat surface like a leaf extends out towards them. On the front left quarter of the plant a hoof-sized siphon-like opening extends out the front, also halfway up the plant.

Both mares’ eyebrows disappear into their manes when lettering and instructions begin to appear in white font on the plant and, after a moment, Cure declares it ready. “Alright. There ya have it. Your very own origin cell… ummm… extruder? I guess? I dunno, I kinda suck at naming things.”

“What in the stars is this, Cure?” Dr. Care asks, waving her hooves up and down at the thing. Deed moves around the table to take Hire’s vacated spot by Gale. Cure, once again, hops right up on the table and sits on his haunches beside the plant.

“This is a plant. I’m working on a couple trees that I stole ideas from to make this fella,” he explains, giving it a friendly pat. “Ironically, this one may have a bigger impact on medicine, maybe, than them and it only took like a week to put together. Mainly because it’s really only doing one thing that I already have an example of. Far simpler concept compared to the others. It started off as a downed maple tree in the woods by my house.”

“A week?” she mumbles, then shakes her head to refocus. “Uhh… okay. So, if I’m reading this right,” Dr. Care starts, ”the slot here is for sugar and water,” she says, pointing to the siphon slot, “and the two spouts are for… waste?”

“Yeah, you can feed it stuff like… I dunno, candy or whatever. I figured there’s a chance it may end up with stuff going into the input slot that it doesn’t need. It’ll store extra water and, if there’s waste buildup, rinse it outta there.”

“Ah. Okay. But the other spigot… it outputs… origin cells?”

“Yep! In a room-temperature stable suspension solution. I’m not exactly sure how you’ll go about using them. The solution is basically sugar water, mostly, and is completely safe to use internally. It should keep the cells viable for at least a day.

“I included that input spot up there so if you put a biopsy from something on it then give it a few seconds the cells should be prepped to, basically, clone whatever organ the biopsy is from, but I wasn’t sure if that was necessary. I think you can inject that solution straight into a damaged organ and it should, basically, regenerate it. Cycling the output on and off again will reset that.

“If you put a biopsy in there though, just put a container big enough for the organ here where the stuff comes out and after a few minutes it’ll start forming in there. After a few hours, bam! New organ. It’s nearly thirty percent concentration too, so you’ll only need about four times the mass of the damaged organ for a full replacement.”

“What?!”

“Or maybe if you have a way to keep the pony alive you can like… I dunno, take the damaged organ out, dunk it in there, and they should fix it up good as new. I’m still workin on the full-pony version, but hopefully I’ll have that ready sometime soon. Then you can just hit a pony with water breathing and dunk ‘em.”

Cure pauses and looks at Dr. Care, then asks, “Hey by the way do you have any medical spells that put a pony in stasis or something to reduce pain? I don’t need ‘em but I’m just curious. Maybe some that are useful in surgery, for example?”

“Stasis, no. That would be fantastic, but I’ve never heard of such a thing. There’s a spell to temporarily disable pain receptors in a limb called Numb. There’s also one that’ll Sanitize a surface. It’s a little more potent than Cleaning and works on most magic-resistant bacteria. We also have a Sharpening spell that, as you may have gathered, was originally developed for different purposes.”

“Neat! Are they restricted?”

“HA! No, of course not. I’m just not sure why you’d be interested in any of them. If you like I could have copies sent over next weekend.”

“Awesome! Thanks, doc!” He pauses, then scratches at his chin while looking at the plant. “Fudge… Where was I?”

Deed snorts a laugh, “I think ya were talking ‘bout the solution, son.”

“Oh! Right! I was gonna say that this stuff should be great for cuts too! Watch!”

Before anypony can react, Cure taps the plant on a panel labeled “ON” then retracts a patch of his coat on his leg so he’s showing bare skin, extends the claw out of his hoof again, swipes it across the bare patch, then, ignoring their shouts and startled jumps, holds it under the spigot. “Oh calm down, jeez. It’s just a little cut.”

“A little warnin, son. Most ponies don’t just slice themselves open, ya know?”

Scoffing, Cure shakes his head and mumbles, “buncha wusses.” More loudly he explains, “See? The stuff comes out, I just rub it in the wound a little, and…” pausing, he taps the plant again, this time on the “OFF” panel, and, ignoring the few drops on the table, holds the cut leg out, “after a few seconds, no more cut. Isn’t that freakin sweet?” he excitedly asks, smiling nearly from ear to ear.

Dr. Care, wide-eyed, presses a hoof against her chest. “Oh my sun and stars! Do you know what this means?!” she barely gets out between breaths.

“You bet!” he proudly declares. “Y’all are gonna save a fortune on bandages!” he says, beaming a huge smile. At her deadpan look he snickers and says, “Nah, I’m messin with ya. It’s pretty bonkers, huh? This little plant can make about a liter every few minutes if it’s getting enough food and water and could probably save a few dozen lives in an hour or so.

“They probably still need to set bones and stuff before using it, though. Like I said, y’all will hafta figure out how to best use it. I lack the experience and my talent makes it so I don’t really have to learn that stuff,” he finishes with a shrug.

“Cure… this is… this is a REVOLUTION in medicine!” Dr. Care shouts, waving both forehooves at the plant. “Do you have any idea how many ponies this will save?”

“No… I don’t have access to stats like that. Presumably thousands. I dunno,” he lamely finishes, looking at the unit in thought.

“Thousands. He says it’ll save thousands. Cure, babe, you beautiful colt, you, this will save thousands every year! Can… can it replicate blood too?”

“Umm… I dunno, probably. I guess if you put a drop of blood in there. I didn’t make the blood plant yet, I figured this was more important.” Defensively he insists, “My mom said not many ponies die ‘cause of lack of transfusions, so… do I need to get that done like ASAP?”

Barely restraining her hopeful smile, she suggests, “When you have time, maybe?”

“Sure. That’s fine. Maybe… actually, hold on.”

Everypony freezes as he closes his eyes and presses against the plant with a hoof. As he moves his hoof away a small, round piece of wood comes with it. “Here. Plant this in some soil, water it, sun it, maybe have some earth ponies do their thing, and in a few weeks you should have one of these,” he motions to the plant, “that just does blood, but it will output whatever blood type you put in. It should do any type.”

Frowning in thought for a moment he adds, “It should also do other creatures’ blood. I dunno, it’s just cloning whatever blood you put on the leaf after cleaning out any contaminants like viruses or whatever. Again, simple, single-purpose plants are pretty easy. That one’s just like this one, really, just more specialized.

“This needs to be tested first!” he emphasizes as he hoofs over the seed. Dr. Care takes it gently in her hooves like it’s a baby bird’s egg. “Yer not gonna break it, doc,” he chuckles with a bemused expression. “Maybe if my sire stomps on it really hard, but it’s tough.”

“Anyhow, let’s do a quick blood test here. Dad, you got some jars in there, right?”

Deed reaches in his pack, “Here ya go sport. I came prepared.”

Cure takes the offered preservative jar with a thanks and explains, “I didn’t know if you would want to get some samples to take with you or something, or for like… the flower plant or whatever.” He pokes his still bare leg with the claw, drawing a drop of blood. He quickly converts the mitochondria in the blood to normal unicorn cells, then places it on the input leaf, which absorbs the drop just a moment later.

“Oh… don’t touch that input leaf. It’ll basically break down anything organic on it in a few seconds. It’s not really a leaf, exactly. I better add a warning label,” he mumbles, putting a hoof against the tree and adding “WARNING - DO NOT TOUCH WITHOUT PROTECTION” in yellow above the leaf with an arrow pointing down.

With a snicker he adds an image of a hoof touching a similar leaf with a big red circle and a line crossing over it just to the side. “Ahh fudge, that label won’t be on the blood plant. Damnit!” With a scrunched snout he mutters, “I’ll hafta think about that.”

“We could just print signs,” Gale suggests.

“Oh. Yeah, I guess that works. Good call, Ms. Gale!”

“I told you, Cure, you can just call me Gale.”

“Son,” Dr. Care starts, “I don’t care what you call me if this all passes muster. Can you make more of those plants?”

“Yeah, they’ll produce a seed like that if you pour a few milliliters of vinegar in the input slot. Like I said, plant ‘em and have an earth pony mind them and they’ll be good to go in a month or so, maybe less.”

“Vinegar?”

Shrugging, he explains, “Had to use something. It’s just a trigger; it’ll come right back out with the rest of the waste next time it cycles.” With the now-full jar of solution he, once again, drips a little blood in, then gently swishes it around. The contents gradually darken until the entire jar is a deep red color. “There ya go, one jar full-o-blood. Nightmare Night will never be the same. Just think of how realistic we can make our decorations this year, pa!”

“Yer dam will be thrilled,” he deadpans.

“Well, that is ultimately the most important thing,” Cure agrees with a sage nod. “Anyhow, doc, I don’t see any reason why this couldn’t be used on patients all over the country to fix a buncha stuff. I only really have one request and, I promise, it’s not a demand or anything. I also have a… I dunno? Concern, maybe?”

“Concern?” Gale worriedly asks. “What’s wrong, Cure? Is it something we can help you with?”

“Let me ask, first, if you’re aware of the circumstances under which the workflow for the births was rearranged.”

“As I understand it,” Dr. Care begins, “the lead organizer for Golden Hills…” she pauses, turning to Gale, “What’s her name again?”

Gale answers almost immediately, “Winter Veil.”

“Right, right,” Dr. Care nods along, turning back to Cure. “Mrs. Veil received a suggestion that you could speed up the process dramatically so that ponies could be shifted to other areas.” Slowly she asks, “Why? Was there a problem with the way it was done?”

Deed and Cure exchange looks. Cure raises a questioning brow and his sire shrugs back saying, “She didn’t say anything about not tellin anypony, champ. I think it’s fine.”

“Yeah,” he agrees, turning to the two mares. “So that pony that suggested the rearranged workflow? That was the princess. She was in town, I’m pretty sure, because of me specifically.”

Gale’s brows disappear into her mane but Dr. Care takes a look at the plant, glances down at the seed in her hoof, then gives an understanding nod. “I’m not all that surprised, to be honest. You have a rare and valuable talent. To gain the princess’s attention… Well, that’s quite the honor. From your expression I’m assuming that isn’t what you’re concerned about, though.”

“Right,” he nods along, “my concern is that one,” he emphasizes, “of the reasons she came herself is that, as she put it,” he changes his voice to an approximation of the princess’s, “First, to assuage the concerns of several of my advisors, especially from certain members of the Archmage’s Assembly,” which gets a raised brow from Dr. Care and an impressed “Goodness!” from Gale.

In his normal voice, he continues, “Worth noting, that was the first reason she brought up. That tells me that, in all likelihood, is slightly more than a passing concern of hers. Know what I mean?”

“Absolutely,” Dr. Care nods. “I, myself, along with a large number of unicorn doctors in the country and every one on the board have memberships to the Assembly. It’s as much a professional association as it is a branch of the government. I haven’t been to Canterlot since the last medical seminar that was hosted there last August.”

Sheepishly, she admits, “I really only went for the CEU’s, to be honest. It’s hard as Tartarus to find local classes that count, and they were offering them for free. Err, are you familiar with the term, Cure?”

“Yeah, continuing education units, right?” At her nod he continues, “Huh… I guess I should have looked more into exactly what the Assembly is. I was kinda worried somepony may get it in their head that, despite the princess tellin ‘em I’m not some kinda nutjob,” Cure glances at his sire when he snorts, then tries to cover it up with an exaggerated smile, “... not the dangerous kinda nutjob, that somepony may come looking for me themselves anyhow.”

Dr. Care gives a half-hearted nod, then tilts her head side to side in thought. “I mean… maybe to hire you or seek help with something? I can’t imagine Her Highness saying ‘I talked to the colt. He’s perfectly fine, leave him alone’ then willfully ignoring that, though.

“You certainly haven’t done anything that I’m aware of that would cause anypony to have an equinal grudge against you, have you? I can’t imagine that at your age, but…” she trails off when Cure shakes his head no.

“I mean, this,” he waves at the plant, “may cause some ripples in the pharmaceutical industry, I guess, but no. I work here, I do my thing at my cosmetic business, I work with the guard, and I go to school and hang out with my friends. Oh, and apparently the guard raided my garden without asking. I had improved my dam’s crops and they wanted samples.”

“Ah. I imagine over concerns they could spread unchecked?”

“Supposedly,” he shrugs, “I still don’t get why they didn’t ask. They were melons, spinach, and stuff like that.”

“They don’t need to ask at all, Cure. That you were informed was probably merely done as a courtesy. And so you weren’t caught unawares should those crops appear elsewhere.”

“I guess. I would have been pretty angry if I found out later. Anyhow, my whole big concern is that this fella,” he says, waving at the plant, “is going to be like a big ‘ol flare in the sky saying ‘The biomanipulator you’re looking for is over here!’ and if some loon is convinced I’m a threat they may come lookin for me.”

Gale speaks up asking for clarification. “So you’re concerned that somepony will ignore the princess and come hunt you down?” He shrugs so she continues, “Despite the fact that everything you’re doing is good and, as far as you know, you haven’t somehow made an enemy out there?” she waves to the door ambiguously.

Cure answers with a slow nod. “There is no way that would happen, Cure. That… that’s treason!” she finishes shouting.

“What?”

“If the princess already told them you are not a threat and they ignore her and try to come after you they are not only committing whatever crime an attack would be, but they’re also defying a declaration from the princess herself. They would potentially face banishment! Especially after this!” she yells, waving at the plant. She looks around and quietly hisses, “They may even be executed!”

Dr. Care nods along, “She’s right. I don’t think you have anything to worry about, Cure. If they commit a crime against a foal that elevates the punishment significantly. That you’re, in all likelihood, considered a national asset just makes it that much worse.”

“National asset?”

Dr. Care looks meaningfully at the tree, then waves the seed in her hoof. “This, your work with the guard, the births, your volunteering here. I assume you do heal some of your cosmetic customers if you find a problem, right?”

“I do a lot of dental, vision, and arthritis stuff, yeah.”

“I figured you would, Cure. You’re a good colt. If anypony tries to threaten or, stars forbid, harm you I can guarantee the full weight of the Baltimare Regional Health Authority will be calling for the harshest punishment possible. The very notion that somepony would react negatively to your efforts is, frankly, ludicrous. Gale said you contacted her via a Sending crystal?”

“Yes, I got them for my parents and friends.”

Dr. Care nods impressed, “That must have cost a fortune. I’m sure the board would be thrilled to meet the enchanter you hired. Those transmutation spells are no joke. Regardless, If anypony approaches you feel free to send me a message right away. I’ll reach out to Captain Stance directly if the situation calls for it.”

“Is that the captain over Baltimare? I’ve not met her. Or him.”

“Her. Captain Forward Stance. The BRHA partners with the BRG to provide medical services to Guard members and develop emergency response plans for any manner of emergency you can imagine. I’m sure you noticed the guard presence at the births, for example. Stars, more than half of our security is former guards.”

“Huh. I hadn’t thought about that. Staff Sergeant Bulwark was front and center both days. So were the other guard commanders in Parkdale and Ferndale.”

Gale nods along, “Of course they were. Guard units all over the country provide security for public events like that. If you had ended up coming here you would have met her lieutenant.”

“Oh. Well,” he pauses, looking at his sire. “I dunno about you, pa, but I feel a little better.”

“Glad ta hear it sport. Can’t rightly say I expected ta her my son called a national asset either.”

“That doesn’t really surprise you does it?” Dr. Care asks. “I mean… this alone will save thousands. And he’s so young!” she exclaims.

“I reckon not,” Deed agrees. “Not many ponies can do somethin like that in a week’s time.”

“I still can’t get over that,” Dr. Care sighs out. “I hope that alleviates your concern about some kind of rogue archmage, though. There’s researchers, politicians, scholars, and advisors that work there. Some are former military, but it’s not some… I don’t know, top secret group of battle mages or something.”

“That’s a huge relief. I mean, I’ll still probably keep an eye out, but I kinda always do anyhow. Oh, and my fillyfriend can make the Sending crystals, by the way. She’s the one that made several for the Guard here.”

“Little Dawn Glow can do that?” Gale asks. When Cure nods her wings give a little flap, “Oh how amazing! We’ll certainly be in touch if she’s okay with it!”

“Lemme ask,” he says, digging into his bag.

<< Hey Dawn, the Regional Health Authority may wanna buy Sending crystals. Are you okay making them for them? >>

<< Sure! We just need the crystals. Any idea how much they’ll pay? >>

“She says she’d be happy to help, but she’s wondering how much you pay.”

“Sending is a nightmare, so we would pay a premium. Do you mind if I have a look?” Dr. Care asks, motioning to the crystal.

“Nah, be my guest.”

Cure hoofs the mid crystal to Dr. Care looks it over. Presumably she’s checking the quality of the enchantment, which is provided by the container spell when the enchantment is added.

“Huh… flawlessly cast. Beautiful! Does she have a cutie mark related to spellcasting or transmutation magic?”

Gale answers first. “No. She doesn’t have her mark yet. At least, last time I saw her?” she half-asks Cure who shakes his head no.

“I bet that’s what her talent will be,” Dr. Care suggests. “She’s your age?”

“A half year older, so nine now.”

“For a foal to get that one right is seriously impressive. I hope she plans on going to a university. I’m sure we could help her get a hoof in the door here when she’s older. Regardless, a flawless Sending should double the price for a crystal. If she’s nine she probably can’t charge a full mid, but we can take care of that part. That’s really amazing, though.”

Cure reaches in his bag and pulls out a mid-low Sending and hoofs it over. “Here, you can just have that one. I’ll let her know to expect to hear from you. I’m sure she’ll be thrilled, though we may need to order some crystals from Canterlot. I basically bought everything Early had in stock last week for the Guard.”

“Sounds great, Cure. We’ll be in touch,” she says, taking the mid-low and passing back the mid.

<< Gale or Dr. Care will be in touch. Sending doubles crystal sale price, so fourteen hundred per mid, three per mid-low. Gave them a mid-low for free to contact you. >>

<< Oh my stars! Awesome! Thanks Cure! >>

Gale sees Cure’s happy smile and, with a hoof by her mouth, stage whispers to Deed, “Looks like Dawn’s excited!”

Dr. Care chuckles, “She’s excited? I can’t believe all this!” she shouts, waving at the crystal, the seed, and the plant. “I usually dread meetings, but feel free to Send something anytime you have something like this, Cure. We’ll, uhh, make sure there’s not a repeat of that unpleasantness.”

“Sounds good, doc. There is one last order of business, though,” he starts.

“Right, you said you had a request?” Dr. Care asks. At his nod she insists, “Name it. We’ll do everything we can, I assure you.”

“Great! When I did my taxes the mare, Even Audit, said that if I’m ‘renting’ a device of some kind to a public institution, like a hospital, but I’m not charging at all, then the value that would normally be assigned to that rental agreement may partially be used to offset my taxes.”

“Damnit, Cure…” Deed sighs, rubbing his temples.

“I think we can work something out. You mean you don’t actually want anything for these, though?” she asks, holding up the seed and waving to the plant. “You just want a valuation for tax purposes?”

He answers with a firm nod. “Exactly. Just maybe see if somepony can come up with an estimate of their value and work with me on that.” Cure holds up his hooves in the “surrender” position and, very insistently explains, “It’s not a demand! Just a request. Please.”

“That’s not a problem at all, Cure,” she says with a light chuckle. She looks to his sire and adds, “It’s a very reasonable request, Mr. Deed. He should be appropriately compensated for his time and effort, after all.”

The dark stallion nods in acceptance. “Yer right, doc. I don’t disagree, it’s just the colt’s obsessed with tha whole tax thing. Ain’t never seen nothin like it.”

“My tax bill this quarter looks like it’s going to be over forty grand!” he shouts. “If those are worth a few bits a day and I can get a couple dozen places usin ‘em maybe I won’t take it across the chin as bad this time.”

Dr. Care’s face goes through a few different emotions before she hesitantly says, “I… think they may be worth more than that.”

“Cool! Alright… I gotta go start my shift. Err, wait, am I still employed here?” he asks the two.

Both nod emphatically, Gale saying, “Of course, Cure. If you’re still willing to work here, that is.”

“Oh. Yeah, sure. Hey maybe for next Saturday do you think you can find a bunch of ponies in Baltimare with neurological conditions? I want to start developing targeted cure options like this tree. Maybe like a dozen or so? If y’all feed me on the way back my cosmetic folks don’t show up ‘till one, so I bet I can do twelve in three hours.”

Dr. Care absently nods, “Umm. Yeah, I bet we can work with that. We’ll talk to the directors on Monday and send a messenger to let you know.”

“Awesome! Alright, I think that’s all I had for ya today.” Clapping his hooves together he shouts, “Good meeting, everypony, mostly. I’ll see y’all later!” then hops off the table, making his way out the door.

“Then he just… goes,” Gale comments, watching as the door swings shut.

“Yeah,” Deed slowly agrees. “The colt’s a little odd sometimes, but he means well.” Deed glances towards the doctor, finding her staring at the plant in a daze. “Ya alright, doc? Need a hoof with that?” he asks, waving at the unit.

“Huh? Oh, no, thank you. Gale?”

“Hmm?”

“I don’t want to touch this. I don’t want anypony touching this at all until we can ensure it won’t be harmed in transit. Do you know who’s in Facilities today?”

“I… don’t,” she answers with a frown.

“The plant ain’t gonna break, doc,” Deed calmly explains. “The colt said it’s tougher’n any tree yer ever gonna see. If it does he can make another, he just needs four logs ‘n about ten minutes. Probably less since he already did it once.”

“I can fly back and have a carriage come!”

“Okay. Okay… alright, that’ll work,” Dr. Care nods. “Thanks, Mr. Deed. Sorry, it’s just kind of a big deal.”

“Yup. Alright, ladies. Always a pleasure, take care,” he calls, seeing himself out.

Author's Note

So despite IRL stuff keeping me busy - which will continue all this week, sadly, I managed to finish 55's first draft and got about a fifth into 56. Until I can resume writing as normal I am going to stick to the once per week bit, which sucks because, as I've said a few times, writing this story is my entertainment.

As far as the treason bit, this is actually true. It was added as an afterthought, mainly because my American brain didn't even consider that the act of disobeying a monarch could be considered such until my 2nd or so pass through the chapter.

The American definition of treason is very limited mainly because the folks that wrote those laws were, technically, traitors to the crown. They had also seen how an accusation of treason could be abused and wanted to make it more difficult to levy that charge. Even if not directly "treason" the crime of Lèse-majesté (insulting the crown) would still not be laughed off, especially in a society that sees their princess as their god-queen.

Finally, I'm not 100% certain you can strangle a horse or, presumably, a pony in a way that would make hanging a viable execution method. Sure you can just wave it away as "they're not ponies like on earth" but still, why bother when magic certainly provides a cleaner method? I didn't want to do a lot of research on that because just typing in the search made me feel dirty. I did find out that, unlike a human, a horse can still breath even with an obstruction in their esophagus, though, so Cure warning Heavy to slow down on that cookie months prior was unnecessary.

*shrug* the things you don't know you don't know.