Saturday, March 21st, 909 AB (7 days later)

“So here’s something I made a conscious choice not to ask for the last few months,” Cure starts, looking between his parents. “What’s on the agenda for the day?” he asks, smirking at the way his mom rolls her eyes.

“We’re going to a show!” Vines excitedly shouts. Deed lets out an annoyed huff at the declaration but Vines is quick to reach over and pat his right foreleg consolingly.

Title explains between bites. “He wanted to surprise us. Your dam got into his bag for a Cleaning crystal and he had the tickets in there too.”

“Ah, so they stood out when the enchantment showed you the contents, huh?”

Not bothering to pause, she simply nods in the affirmative.

“Oh well, there’s always next year,” the stallion sighs.

“Oh, sweetie, it’s the thought that counts. I haven’t gone to a show since I was a little filly! I’m so excited!” she squeals, bouncing in her seat.

“I remember that field trip,” Deed says, perking up. “Didn’t think I would care much for it, but the music and singin was pretty good.”

“Huh… So it’s what? A play? Opera? Musical?”

“A musical, honey,” Title answers.

“Well, I hope you enjoy it, but please, never ever buy me tickets to any kind of show. Ever,” he emphasizes. “I’m begging you.”

“Yeah, I figured that wasn’t really yer kinda thing, champ.”

“You don’t care for plays, honey?”

“Nah, dam. I think the memories kinda ruined most entertainment venues for me. I’m much more entertained practicing my magic than I am at a play, trust me.”

“Is there a way to make Sound Bubble one way only? In case Savvy acts up?” Title asks as she reaches down and pets the filly with a hoof. She’s nearly asleep leaning against her dam, using her haunch as a pillow.

“Yeah, but if you’re down in the crowd it won’t help the ponies around you.”

Vines suddenly leaps off her chair, wrapping around and raining kisses on her husband. Draped across his withers, which is probably less comfortable with him sitting up instead of laying down, she explains between smooches on his cheek, “Our big, strong, beautiful stallion got us a private box!”

“Really?” When Deed nods yes Cure continues, “How’d you pull that off? I thought those were… uhh, what’s the word I’m looking for? Somepony basically has them on reserve before the tickets for the public are even available. Like, I didn’t think you could usually get those unless you knew somepony.”

“He asked his grandsire back around Hearth’s Warming,” Title answers. “Grandma Vino was able to get them pretty easily. She has a lot of connections in high society.”

“Huh. I’m starting to think I should give them the real deaging treatment even if they may be mafia. It’s not like I’ve seen any conclusive sign they’re actually criminals. All the injuries I’ve healed could possibly be from security work.”

“Cure, baby, what ever gave you the impression he was involved in crime at all anyhow?”

“I dunno,” he shrugs. “I guess there’s just so many circumstantial things that ticked off ‘crime family’ check boxes in my mind. The name, the income sources, the house. Again, all circumstantial, but ya know what they say… where there’s smoke,” he says, rolling a hoof. “I guess I made what was probably an unfair assumption based solely off of those things, though.”

“Well I’m glad yer finally admittin that, champ.”

“Ya know, now that ya mention it, I don’t really see a lot in the paper about crime. I’ve kinda assumed it’s rare, but then the three of us got mugged that one time and somepony stole my trees. The latter feels like more of a corporate espionage or some kinda weird military thing than what I’m talking about, though.” Looking between his parents he asks, “Do they just not report crime? There was usually a whole section of the newspaper that humans dedicated to local incidents.”

Vines, done smothering her husband, gives him a last peck on his cheek then climbs off of him and goes back to her seat. “It’s very uncommon to hear about an actual crime happening here in Golden Hills, but the worst I usually see is some fighting or disorderly behavior. There are some bad areas in Baltimare, though. Robberies, maybe assault occasionally. More serious crimes are very, very uncommon.”

“They report crime when it happens, son. It’s just, like yer dam says, pretty uncommon,” Deed agrees. “When ya caught them robbers there was a blurb in the paper a few days later. It didn’t name names, but just said they were apprehended by a private citizen.”

“Oh. Neat. I wish you had told me, I woulda saved a copy for Solar. First arrest, ya know?” Deed winces, nodding in acknowledgement that he should have, then mutters a quick “sorry, sport” that Cure just waves away.

“As long as you’re not going into bad areas there’s really not much crime at all, honey,” Title starts. “At least not around here. Fillydelphia and Detrot have a bit more. Some parts of Manehattan and Cloudsdale are supposedly pretty bad.”

“Chicoltgo is a mess,” Deed mentions.

His mom nods in agreement. “They do have a lot of bad things happen there, but outside a few places I think, overall, it’s a lot lower than what you’re thinking because of population sizes. From what you’ve said there were way, way more humans than there are ponies, right?”

“Three hundred and twenty five million in a country that, as best I can tell, is about two times the size of Equestria. Maybe. Equestria is about a third as wide,” he says motioning side to side, “but two or three times as tall, I think. The maps we have aren’t nearly as good as what humans had because of technology. Of course, that’s excluding Alaska from that calculation.”

At Title’s curious look he projects an image of a map of North America, as best as he can recall, and points to the large state. “It’s a huge state but it’s removed from the rest and is largely uninhabited wilderness. To be fair, though, so is much of Equestria, but Alaska is that way due to weather conditions. I think I know where you’re going with this, though. Population density is far lower here.

“Another really bizarre cross-world thing, I think, is that cities seem to have about a tenth of the population of Earth equivalents. Approximately.” With a shrug he adds, “I dunno, Ed didn’t memorize city populations for the funsies. I only got a feel for populations here from the RHA stats.”

“Huh. Weird,” she agrees. “Regardless, you get what I was saying anyhow. Even ignoring other factors, one tenth the population in a city should mean less than one tenth the crime. In theory.”

“Right, but clearly there is still some. You yourself said somepony would rob me if I were going city to city healing.”

“Yeah, you would be an outsider in the community without local support with, presumably, lots of money. Classic target of opportunity. Which was also true of the mugging, I might add.”

“Which is stupid because I would obviously have already put almost all of that in the bank anyhow.” Pausing Cure wonders aloud, “How do they synchronize accounts from different branches?”

“Don’t get distracted,” she chides, “It’s magic. Probably,” she unhelpfully guesses. “If you’re that curious your sire can ask Fair Rate on Monday.”

“Oh yeah, she worked at the Fillydelphia branch, didn’t she?” Cure furrows his brows in thought for a moment. “Ya know, I wonder how much cutie marks reduce crimes just by their nature. You remember me talking about compulsions and stuff, right?”

The pink mare nods between bites. “Yeah.”

“Well the best way to make that stick is to reward the pony that obeys. I get a warm, fuzzy feeling in my chest when I heal ponies. I bet you get a sense of accomplishment when you do your thing too.”

“Right,” she agrees.
“I know I do, sport,” his sire nods in agreement.
His dam silently nods as well.

“Well that positive reinforcement probably keeps ponies mostly on the straight and narrow. Remember when we talked about sex marks, mom?”

The question causes his dam and sire’s heads to whip in his mom’s direction. She rolls her eyes at them and explains, “He asked if such a thing exists when he was making his suit. We were talking about cutie marks that may or may not be useless and the topic came up. You know how he meanders from topic to topic,” she defends, waving at the colt.

“Right, so we talked about, I guess… stranger? More unusual marks, I suppose. I strongly suspect there’s not ‘crime’ ones, are there?”

“Like… a cutie mark in fighting?” Vines asks.

“No, not fighting. Fighting is a necessary part of life sometimes. I mean, purely criminal marks. Ones without any societal benefit.” All three parents think for a few minutes, coming up empty.

He continues, “I’m not ruling out the possibility they exist, but I bet even a mark that seems criminal has possible positive uses. Honestly, though, if you think about it hard enough you could probably come up with a way to twist any action to something slightly positive, at least… so there must be some other metric to measure by.”

“I can think of a few things there ain’t no good use for, son. None of ‘em are good dinner table topics, though.”

“I can think of a few too, but even for things that sound categorically awful like murder and torture there may possibly be times when you could argue they’re needed. You would have to really engineer an scenario where that’s the case though; torture in particular.”

“I don’t care for the fact you consider those needed under any circumstances,” Vines comments harshly.

“Eh, think of times of war or whatever. You identify an enemy spy that can’t legally be dealt with for whatever reason but you need him eliminated.” With a shrug he adds, “Like I said, engineered scenarios. Not real life, day-to-day circumstances. I guess it also depends on what the legal definition of murder is here compared to Earth.”

“I don’t know the actual legal definition of it, but in general murder is murder, Cure.”

“I get that, ma, but the legal definition is what matters as far as society is concerned, mostly. Take somepony breakin in yer house,” he says, waving around. “In some countries, the one Ed lived in in particular, you could kill them on the spot and it would be called ‘justifiable murder’ because they had Stand Your Ground laws.

“In England the worst you could do was politely ask the offender to leave and hope they don’t trip on their way out, then sue you for the injury.” Cure pauses in thought for a moment. “That may have been a stereotype or hyperbole. I’m not a hundred percent sure about that. You definitely couldn’t blast away though.”

“I think the guard arrests ya either way, champ.”

“They did that in the US too. The police would, if not technically arrest you, at least detain you for questioning while they gather evidence and figure out exactly what happened. The important thing is, is the burden of proof on the state or on the individual?”

“I… don’t know. Babe?” he asks, turning to his wife.

“The crown,” she answers. “A prosecutor would have to have some kind of proof you were not defending yourself. Like… if they find a letter at the intruder’s home where you invited them over, signed by you.”

“Is there a requirement to subdue before escalating to lethal force?”

“No,” both his sire and mom answer at the same time. They share a look before she continues, “There’s laws about defending your home that date all the way back to the earliest few centuries after the founding of the country. The nobility demanded they be able to fight back against bandits or invaders however they wanted to without having to then justify it before the crown.”

“Well, that’s a relief. I don’t think I would ever need to resort to lethal force with the way my talent works, though. ”

“Probably not,” she agrees. “I’m also not sure how it would work, legally, if you hurt somepony and just let them bleed out or whatever. You might not be required to give aid, but you know somepony would be angry if you didn’t. Either way, you probably should actually deage your grandparents. They are family and all. I would maybe wait a little while, though.”

“Yeah, make it seem like I ‘figured something new out’ or whatever, right?”

“Yep. So when are you all going for your spa treatments?”

“Just after lunch. Everypony is gonna to meet at Dawn’s house around one. Honestly I’m feeling kinda silly about the whole thing. I mean… It sounded like a nice treat for the girls but it’s likely impossible for anypony to give a better massage than I can. I guess I’ll at least be on the receiving end for once.”

“You’re not just getting massages though,” Title reminds him. “You’re getting the full spa experience. Just don’t use your talent all day and enjoy yourself like everypony else does. You’re allowed to let yourself be spoiled for a change.”

“Listen to your mother, sweetie. You’ve been working hard and going out of your way to help everypony. Let yourself relax today.”

“Yeah… I guess I have been pushing myself a bit.”

“A bit?” Deed questions. “Son, memories or not yer not even nine, work six days a week-”

“Less than an hour a day!”

The stallion continues as if Cure didn’t interrupt, “volunteered to go all over Baltimare ta help with the births, the guard, the school, learning magic, practicing flying, plus all the extra stuff you do. I’m just glad ya took today off.”

Cure nods along, giving in with a placating “alright, alright, fine, I got it. And I’m not sure I would count magic and flying as work at all. Like I said, those are recreational activities as far as I’m concerned.”

“True… you seem to have a lot of fun,” his sire agrees. “I’m thinkin maybe once yer moms are able to, we oughta go on a family trip camping somewhere and you can show us the basics.”

Cure lights up at the suggestion with Title looking excited at the idea too. Vines looks distinctly uncomfortable, though, something her husband notices right away.

“Aww, don’t be like that babe,” Deed insists, rubbing a hoof gently on her shoulder. “Nopony is suggestin we go shootin through the sky, but ya may find it’s a whole lot more fun than yer thinkin.”

“It looks pretty damn fun,” Title agrees.

“Oh, it totally is. I’m tellin ya, mom, dam, the sights are amazing too. There’s nothing like sitting on a cloud, looking down at the world as the sun comes up. Watching the light banish the twilight of the night away. It’s like liquid sunshine washes across the land, painting the whole town with its glow.”

“Damn, son…”
“Wow, Cure. I didn’t expect that.”
“It does sound beautiful, honey.”

“I’m not much for scenery or nature, but there’s no denying how amazing it is to see it cresting the horizon and lighting up the cloud districts. They almost glow when those first beams hit. You’ll see someday,” he promises. “You all need to see it. I feel like everypony needs a reminder once in a while that this truly is a magical world.”

“Couldn’t ‘a said it better myself, son. Ya got me even more interested.”

“I suppose I could give it a try, sweetie. I’m sure the view from up there is amazing.”

“You won’t regret it, dam. Maybe I can show you with Cloud Walk someday soon, just to give you something to look forward to. Of course you would need better eyes to really appreciate it, but I can do that without doing anything to your brain now, so let me know.”

“You can?” Title asks. “How? I thought you had to upgrade that one part of the brain.”

“Nah, I can just add in secondary processing centers in the neck or down the spine. It doesn’t have to be the one in the brain. I have one in my barrel to process scents from spiracles.”

“Huh… sounds useful.”

“Nah, not really. With the upgrades to our noses it doesn’t add much. I can immediately tell which direction a scent is coming from, but that’s about all it adds.”

“So ya know who’s fartin, eh champ?”

“Before it finishes leaving their cheeks, pa.”

“Enough, you two,” Vines admonishes, rolling her eyes at the dual pouts.

The family finishes eating soon after. Title and Cure clean up, then he gets to work adjusting a mid crystal to block outgoing noise. Cure spends a few hours practicing magic shaping, then heads over to Heavy’s to play for a little bit before getting ready to go.

While hanging out with his friend, Cure is invited to and accepts joining Heavy’s family for lunch. He feels a little awkward knowing that the family lives just down the street and he’s not even bothered sharing their crops with them.

Sat beside his brother from another mother, Cure takes another bite of the onion and pepper pasta, pausing after he swallows. “So I dunno how much Heavy has told y’all about my talent, but if yer willing I can think of a few things I could do that would help out. I’ve been keeping most of what I can do a secret but I know I can at least trust you all with some.”

“Some?” Berry Prickle asks curiously. Heavy’s dam is sitting to Cure’s left with her newborn filly laying on a little booster right beside her.

“Well the girls are a little young to understand some of it, but yeah,” he nods. “For example, the garden you have out there?”

“Mmhmm.”

“I used my talent on what’s planted in our garden. It’s all hardier and grows more food.”

“Really?” Spring Showers asks. “That seems very useful.”

Heavy’s sire, Silver Vein, chimes in asking, “You don’t mind sharing, son?”

“No. In fact the crops I made are being reviewed by some officials to see how much better they really are. I was told I would get a tax break based on their estimated value. I’m still waiting for that though. Friggin bureaucracy drags their hooves when it comes to rebates but I bet they’d be in plenty’a hurry comin if ya owed ‘em two bits.”

The grumbling scowl from the colt gets a snorted laugh from Silver who nods along. “Yep, you got that right, son. Our taxes aren’t too bad, though. From what yer sire says at the bar you get hit a lot worse than most.”

“You got that right,” he quickly agrees, pointing an empty spoon at the stallion. “But getting back to ways I can help, it’s not just crops I can cause to… propagate.” The statement draws shocked looks from the three adults while Heavy furrows his brows in thought trying to remember what that word means.

“That’s something I’m keeping strictly confidential for now, and I truly hope you all can do the same, but with the season nearly upon us I’m risking informing the parents of my good friends so that, should they be planning on participating, they can do so with a better understanding of their potential outcomes.”

“What the hay are you talking about, Cure?” Heavy finally asks.

“He’s usin big words on purpose!” Fall Thunder accuses.

“I also have a plant that helps with stinky farty fillies,” Cure teases. Spring is quick enough to put a hoof on Fall’s withers before she can leap off of her seat. “I’m actually serious about that, Mrs. Showers. I’ll bring a few by here soon.

“They’re flowers that produce a bulb of scented oil that every pegasus I’ve given one to seems to really enjoy.” He looks to the other adults and adds, “My parents like ‘em too. The oil is good for our coats, same as their wings, especially in the rain.”

“That sounds lovely, Cure,” she gratefully replies. “What exactly were you saying about… propagation though?”

“Well, one outta six doesn’t have to be one outta six, first off. It could be six outta six instead. Or one out of two or even zero out of six.”

Spring doesn’t hesitate a second to clarify. “So you’re saying that…” she stops, flicking her eyes to Heavy, then back, then raising a single, questioning brow.

“Every time,” Cure agrees. “Heck, two or three at a time if you want.”

Her wings start lifting at the statement. The other adults are clearly interested too as both have completely stopped eating.

“Think it over,” Cure suggests. “It’s not a limited time offer, exactly. If ya wanna wait until September that’s fine too. The only caveat is I need to use my talent before anything takes root,” he points to the mares, “and ideally a few days beforehoof on you,” he finishes, nodding in Silver’s direction. “In fact, Mr. Vein, I can do your part whenever, as the sire is the determining factor of gender.”

“Gender?” Heavy asks. “Like… colts and fillies?”

“Yeah, dude.”

“What about them?”

“Eh, nothing big. Just talking about biology and stuff. I don’t think Mrs. Apple has gone over a lot of that with our age group though.”

“Yeah,” the gray colt agrees. “I’m coming to you when we get there. Everypony says biology is hard but I know you know all that.”

“Sure, bro. Just use the crystal and Send me something. Remember we’re house hunting right now?”

“Yeah. Find anything yet?”

“Not yet. I’m hoping somepony in one of those nicer homes over by Rising and Sapphire moves in the next few months. Nopony wants to move in the winter, after all. You about done? We gotta head to Dawn’s soon.”

“Sure,” Heavy nods, then looks at his dam. “May I be excused, dam?”

“Sure honey. Have fun with your friends. Don’t worry about your plates, we’ll take care of them.”

Both colts thank the parents and, after Heavy gets a few departing nuzzles, take off for Dawn’s home.

“Are you literally insane?” Cure asks.

“No, I just think you’ll enjoy the experience,” Drift insists. “Getting your wings done is really relaxing, and every unicorn I’ve asked says the same about having their horn filed.”

“I’ll consider one of the other, but not both. I’m not ready to throw that out there quite yet. At least, not with you all present.”

“Why’s it matter if we’re around?” Sapphire asks.

“He can disguise himself,” Coast reminds her. “If we’re seen walking around with an alicorn somepony could probably find us, then him.”

“Ohh… yeah, good point,” the mint filly agrees. “Don’t do that, Cure.”

“I… wasn’t going to?”

“Good,” she affirms. “Don’t.”

“Uhh, you got it, Saph.”

The girl just nods in agreement and, with a pensive look adds, “I think wings look better though. Do wings.”

“Yeah, see?” Drift instantly agrees, pointing a hoof in agreement.

Sapphire notices Dawn glaring at her. The orange filly is on Cure’s left, frustrated at the fact that Glacial immediately claimed his withers as soon as he laid on a couch. Drift is laying beside the platinum filly’s haunches to their right and Rising quickly hopped up to their left, sandwiching Dawn between Cure and herself.

Coast, Heavy, Ferric, and Sapphire are sitting on the couch closest to the door while the group waits for Solar to get ready and Starlight to arrive. The two had agreed to play chaperone for the day, happy to get an all expenses paid spa trip in exchange for accompanying the group.

“What’s wrong, Sunrise,” Sapphire teases from atop her sister’s withers. “Didn’t you think his wings were pretty?” she asks in a mock pout.

“Quit it, Saph,” Ferric quietly admonishes, gently bumping her sister’s chin with her head. “Nopony likes a troublemaker.”

With an exaggerated sigh she reluctantly agrees. “Fiiiine. I’ll leave Miss Angryhorn alone. So…” she pauses, resting her head right on top of Ferric’s and smiling mischievously, “did ya get it done, sis?”

The dark filly goes completely still, then blushes so hard Cure’s heat sensors can detect her easily from several meters away. When she doesn’t answer and Sapphire doesn’t clarify, all heads slowly turn her direction.

“Am I missing something?” Glacial asks. “Why are ya blushing?”

“Yeah, Ferric,” Heavy says. “What’s she talking about?”

When her sister fails to answer, Sapphire takes it upon herself to help out. “Sissy’s been working on a very special project, haven’t you?”

“You said you wouldn’t say anything!” Ferric growls.

“Aww, but now seems like the perfect time!” she gleefully crows. “Didjya get it done?”

Bashfully looking away, Ferric quietly mumbles, “It’s not good enough.”

“When you showed me I thought it was looooovely!” Sapphire sings out.

“Maybe later. Not now,” Ferric growls.

“Hmm, maybe I’ll give a hint,” Sapphire thinks aloud. Standing on Ferric’s withers she opens her mouth to say something, but never gets the chance as the red filly quickly rolls over, grabs her, and flips them so she’s on top. “Mmmf! Mmmmfh!” she shouts, laughing and futilely thrashing while her larger, stronger sister holds her mouth shut, pinning her in place.

“What the hay?!” Heavy shouts as he and Coast jump to get out of the way.

Despite Ferric whispering directly in her sister’s ear and the noise the filly herself is making, Cure distinctly hears the older girl threatening to tell their parents, specifically their sire, while poking her sister in the ribs until she agrees to be quiet.

Once order is restored a very smug, amused looking Sapphire is released, still laying against Ferric’s left side. Coast and Heavy retake their spots, looking at the bigger filly somewhat apprehensively, but the five foals on the other sofa are happy to sit and watch the sibling drama play out. A knock at the door draws everypony’s attention and Dawn hops down to let Starlight in.

Rising takes the opportunity to steal her spot on Cure’s left, ignoring the “she’s gonna be ticked” warning he whispers to her.

“She’ll need to learn to deal at some point,” Rising defensively argues. “It’s not like you two are married anyhow.”

“Try telling her that,” Drift quietly mumbles.

“She’s right,” Glacial whispers. “There’s too few colts for her to be acting like she owns you.”

“I just don’t want a fight today,” Cure insists. “Just… promise me nopony will start yelling,” he barely finishes before Dawn walks back into the room. As soon as her eyes land on the innocent looking yellow filly Cure’s pretty sure a few strands of her mane jump out of place.

<< Don’t be like that, babe. We’ve already discussed this. They are not going to make fun of you. We are all friends, so please don’t start a fight. >> he silently Messages her. It seems to work at least somewhat; she doesn’t look pissed anymore, but she is obviously annoyed. Despite that, she trots around the couch, hops up into Rising’s vacated spot, and lays across her withers, facing a surprised looking Glacial.

Cure glances left and right and notes that Rising seems happy and gladly nuzzles up into her friend’s chin. Drift, like the platinum pegasus on his withers, is looking around his front at the pair, amazed she took it that well.

Starlight makes her way to the couch by the kitchen just as Solar comes down the stairs. The older colt pauses mid-step at the scene and, after taking in the filly pile on and around Cure, looks relieved. “Hey Shiny,” he says, approaching his marefriend for a chaste kiss. “You all ready to go?” he asks, turning to face the foals.

“The girls voted. I am obligated to go winged today,” Cure explains.

“Winged?” Starlight asks. “You can grow wings too?”

Shrugging, Cure nods. “Why couldn’t I?”

“I… don’t know?” she slowly responds. “Can you fly?”

“He’s a cheating flankhole, of course he can fly,” Drift bitterly answers.

“She’s just mad he’s faster than her,” Glacial explains, giving a flap of her wings to lift off of Cure’s withers and settling on Drift’s instead. Drift huffs in annoyance while turning away.

“Faster?” Solar asks. “How are you faster than an actual pegasus?”

“Earth pony strength,” Cure explains, standing and starting his work growing wings. “I think that’s why the princess is so fast too. That and wing configuration. I’m sticking with normal pegasus wings, though.”

“Jeez, I bet earth pony strength and flight are a heck of a combo,” he agrees. “How fast can you go?”

“Dunno,” he answers.

Starlight and Solar, along with most of the foals, watch on in fascination as he pushes the wings out of his back. Conversation continues as he works on them.

“The chicken refused to go all out,” Drift gripes.

Glacial quickly points out, “He’s still a new flier, Drift. He shouldn’t go all out. He went fast enough that one time, anyhow.”

“That one time?” Dawn asks.

“Yeah,” Glacial answers, “I asked how fast he can go about a month ago and…” she trails off with a scrunched snout.

Drift finishes for her. “Total cow manure. He used some armor spell to cut back on drag and with his wings pumping he shot by faster than anypony I’ve seen outside of professional racers.”

“And almost crashed,” he adds, getting a wince and a nod from the platinum filly. “Still, that was a month ago and I’d only been flying a few times by then. I figure I could fly to Canterlot in maybe an hour and fifteen, hour and a half. Dunno, I haven’t tried going really high yet.”

“Canterlot’s like five hundred and fifty kilometers away…” Starlight mumbles.

“Yep. The…” he pauses. “Some birds can go over three hundred kph and that’s without magic at all, just pure muscle. There’s tricks I could do with my talent to go even faster, but I would have to be careful not to break the sound barrier or that would definitely be noticed.”

“There’s no way in Tartarus you could go that fast,” Drift insists.

“Hopefully we’ll never know,” he responds. “Because the only reason I ever would is if something really bad is happening and I need to get there ASAP.”

Ferric asks, “How fast is sound?”

“Twelve hundred kph,” Glacial answers. “Faster than any pegasus on the planet by a lot.”

“I don’t think even the princess could do that, Cure,” Solar argues.

“Dunno, dude. That also definitely falls under the ‘I hope we never find out’ category, though. She could be here from her castle in half an hour. If I see the boss lady in that much of a hurry I’ll probably assume we’re at war or somethin.”

He finishes growing out his feathers as conversation stills, then flares his wings and lays them flat on his back. They’re appropriately sized for his body, though that still means they are a little longer than a pegasus colt approximately his size would have.

His extra mass and width make having slightly larger wings convenient to offset the additional load they’re carrying. He still hides his mark and changes his coat to a lighter brown, then gives his mane and tail a dark chocolate to match his eyes.

Cure spreads his wings out wide for the fillies to check over. “Look good?” he asks the girls, getting nods from the group. Starlight just stares, mouth agape and eyes wide until Solar nudges her. “Alright, unless Solar needs to powder his snout, I think we’re ready to head out,” he says.

“Quiet, you nuisance,” the colt replies. “Let’s go.”

Cure feels a little sorry for the older unicorns. Granted, they are getting a free spa day out of all of this, but the girls are pretty wound up and the train ride to Baltimare feels longer for it. Several times the girls, Sapphire in particular, got a little exuberant with their conversation or started bouncing around more animatedly and had to be gently shushed.

Fortunately they all seemed to be willing to listen to Cure a little more readily, probably because they had all been made aware by their parents that the colt is shelling out a decent pile of bits to treat them all to something special. Even though it’s likely not true, the implication would be “behave or it may be the last time.” The spa they’re going to is, after all, considered to be one of the nicest in the city that it doesn’t take “knowing somepony” to get in the doors of.

Cure hadn’t been sure at the time of the booking whether his parents would come or if Haze and Emerald would want to join. When he, Deed, and the pegasus duo made the appointment his sire told them it would be for, at most, nine foals and three to five adults.

The price would be a staggering sum for most families, but with gratuities and any products the girls may decide to take home Cure isn’t expecting to spend much more than what he makes in an average day. He doesn’t expect it to be anywhere near as much as the bit pouches he’d ordered at Early’s the same day.

The spa, Tranquility on the Bay is, as the name suggests, overlooking a stretch of the northern Horseshoe Bay. At a steady canter it still takes ten minutes to get there from the train station and, despite the warm coat and slightly milder weather, Starlight struggled to stay warm. Solar was able to help out by keeping his seemingly more effective Warming on her, but it became obvious that the party planner is unaccustomed to being outside in the winter for more than a few minutes at a time.

The store is located in a wealthier part of town, at the far eastern end of a shopping district that caters to, not exactly the elite of the town, but certainly the upper class. The group of foals led by two young adults got a few curious looks by other ponies wandering about doing their weekend or Hearts & Hooves shopping, but nopony approached them or said anything.

It certainly didn’t help that Glacial and Drift were flitting about, looking in all the different store windows and occasionally dragging Cure with them to look at the offered wares just as they had when they made the booking.

The first time Cure took to the air Starlight nearly tripped watching him instead of looking where she was going. He can only assume that unicorns who don’t frequently use magic also fail to take advantage of the aura to keep them aware of their surroundings. He, on the other hoof, has come to hate the fact he has to keep his horn hidden so much, losing out on the second set of eyes.

He thought it was kind of adorable when both fillies flew ahead to stare into a fancy toy store. They became so enthralled at the moving model train displays they lost all awareness of their surroundings. Cure had to admit, the display was neat and he had no idea that such things existed in this world, but that didn’t stop him from sneaking his muzzle under Drift’s raised wing and giving her a gentle nip right at the base.

Just as Glacial had told him when they were sitting on a cloud together, the purple filly’s muscle spasmed as she lept in the air loudly yelping. Cure got a good wing smack across his face as she launched off, but the glare from the filly, the chuckles of passing witnesses, and the much louder laughs and taunts from the just catching up remainder of the group made it completely worthwhile.

Upon entering the spa Solar is greeted by the receptionist who asks for his name. Cure instantly thinks “Rarity” when he sees her. Though she doesn’t have the future Generosity’s accent she has the color scheme down perfectly, even if her manestyle is tied back in a more practical ponytail draped over her right withers instead of the more elaborate style.

The reception area looks impressively well-to-do. To Cure’s unrefined eyes the overall motif twigs inherited memories of Greek or Roman baths, something the spa is well known for. The floor is a sandstone tile with the light brown color scheme continuing throughout the room. The reception desk is a chest height slab of polished, smoothed stone with aromatherapy candles burning at each end, though the main source of light is the, when facing the desk, right wall of the room which is, from floor to ceiling, glass panes facing the bay.

Cure notes that at the bottom and top of the panes have runic channels, presumably running to a crystal that either toughens the glass or, perhaps, does something to keep them clean. They are all spotless and even though the sun is now overhead plenty of light filters in the room from the beautiful view of the bay. Several ships headed either in or out can be seen from the view, though their origin or destination is the dock area to the southwest, closer to the middle of the city instead of the northeastern area they’re currently in.

The smell of lavender is strong enough that Cure has been forced to dial back his sense of smell both times, though from the looks on his friends they’re all enjoying it and are impressed at the apparent wealth on display.

As he and several of the other foals look out at the water he overhears the receptionist speaking with Solar behind and to his left. “I’m very sorry, sir, but the booking is for the son of a Mister Clean Deed. It says here Cure Wave… a blue earth pony with a staff and snake cutie mark. With neither present I’m not sure if we can see you today.”

“Oh, Cure is just outside shopping,” Cure yells, turning. “He said he’ll just be a moment. C’mon Heavy, let’s go get him,” he says, nudging his friend back out the door. He ignores the baffled looks most of the girls are giving him and the protest from the gray colt as the two trot outside. Once the door shuts he turns and whispers to his friend, “Congrats, bro, you get to be me today. I didn’t even think of the possibility they wouldn’t see us without me or my sire here.”

“Why do I gotta be you? Just change back,” he quietly argues. Thankfully there’s no real traffic at the end of the shopping district, so nopony is nearby to overhear the argument.

“Dude think of it… an earth pony and a pegasus leave and two earth ponies come back. Don’t you think that’ll look weird?”

“It seems less weird that the pegasus took off than the earth pony! Where are ya gonna tell ‘em I went, huh?”

“Shopping.” At his friend’s incredulous look he pleads, “C’mon Heavy, just let me change your colors for the next few hours. I’m really curious what a professional preening feels like and it’ll mean a lot to the girls if I can join ‘em. What difference will it really make if you look like me while we’re here?”

Sighing, Heavy begrudgingly nods in acceptance. It only takes the pair a moment to duck around the side of the building, make the changes, and head back to the spa. Dawn had come outside to see what was going on and followed them back in giggling at Heavy’s annoyed face.

“We found him!” Cure yells, trotting back in the store with the pair in tow. The receptionist takes one look at the blue colt, then glances at the door. “Our friend, Heavy, saw a toy store he thought was neat. He’ll probably be by later. Don’t worry if he doesn’t show up, he gets distracted easily,” he explains, ignoring the “pot, kettle, dude” remark from his friend.

“You know how colts are with spa stuff,” Dawn adds, “he may spend the whole time looking at toys.” The other girls are looking between the pair, most of them holding back giggles.

“Nice of you to join us, Cure,” Sapphire teases, trotting up to the disguised Heavy. She reaches up with a hoof, grabs his chin, and plants a big, wet kiss on his cheek, causing the colt to blush purple. “We thought we would have to get started without you!”

Starlight, meanwhile, is looking between the two in shock. She can’t help but mumble “This is so weird” under her breath, though Cure can easily hear it. Solar just smirks and nods at the mare, quickly telling her, “You’re going to have to get used to it, I’m afraid.”

The receptionist looks suspicious at the pair for a moment, but glances down and reads the book aloud while nodding. “Okay, blue with staff and snake cutie mark… yep, well we’re all prepared for you! If you would all come this way, please. We have alcoves for you to place your saddlebags, coats, or any other items while we take care of you!” she calls, pulling aside the curtain for everypony to enter the hallway, alcove area leading back to the spa itself.

When the group of foals start excitedly chatting she glances over her withers with a smile. “Now I know you’re all very excited, but we have other customers here,” she continues in a more subdued whisper-shout, “so please keep voices low so as not to disturb anypony.”

“We want to be welcomed back, everypony,” Cure adds, “So don’t make Solar give you a spankin, okay?”

“So weird,” the older colt sighs as he puts his bags in one of the alcoves.

They don’t seem very efficient to Cure, but it’s clearly a design choice. Instead of being square cubbies, they’re rotated forty five degrees, so while technically still squares they’re oriented like diamonds instead. It works, it just seems silly. He can’t deny that it does look nice, especially with the scented candle sconces lining the hallway providing light. The girls are all visibly excited, taking in everything with huge saucer eyes and ear-to-ear smiles while the few that brought bags, scarves, earmuffs, or whatever store everything away.

The only thing Cure is carrying on him is his spatial bit pouch and, paranoid as he is, he keeps that flattened in a subdermal pouch under his belly.

After storing their belongings the group follows the mare to the other end of the hall. When she passes through the curtain there they all follow into the actual “spa” area, nearly running into each other as they stop to take in the breathtaking view. The glass panes continue down the side wall, lighting the entire area.

The center of the room is a large, heated, stone bath, thankfully with graduated height levels for different tribes to fully immerse themselves. Columns are spaced four meters apart around it and the ceiling has several glass panels letting sunlight pour in.

There’s a few other patrons already in the water, which is not a surprise given the holiday. The wall on the left side of the room has a few employees softly talking to customers at a service desk.

There’s curtained doorways leading, presumably, to the rooms where guests can take advantage of the services the spa offers. The right wall has small alcoves with padded benches lining it. They’re divided by narrow stone walls, and all of them are looking over the bay.

The receptionist, or hostess, continues leading the group past everything to an area just outside a small, arched doorway against the back center wall while explaining, “Through here is a sauna room where you can relax in the steam.

“There’s a larger area to the right,” she points to her left, their right, by the glass, “that is your private relaxation area. That is for you to cool off and relax and enjoy the view. Take a nap in the sun, or just take a break between treatments. Please don’t spend more than fifteen minutes at a time in the sauna or in the water without taking a small break. We’ve had ponies stay in too long and it can make you dizzy,” she warns.

Continuing, she explains. “We have a team of expert groomers here,” she points to another area to her right. There’s another curtain in the back left corner of the room leading to the grooming area. She continues, “so before anything else, please start there. They’ll give you a quick trim if you’d like, then a rejuvenating wash from snout to tail so you can enjoy the bath area.

“The water is very warm; we keep it at forty degrees, so again, don’t stay in too long and take breaks often. If any of you would like, we have a full body seaweed wrap, aromatherapeutic massage, hooficure services, and full styling services available, though you’ll want to wait until you’re almost ready to leave to get styled or the humidity could ruin it. Simply approach the attendant at the service desk or wave down an attendant and they will guide you from there.

“If you would like snacks or a drink while you relax please do the same. For the adults we have a selection of mixed drinks, wines, and infused fruit drinks. I must apologize because we don’t get a large number of foals as customers, though we do have a selection of normal fruit juices. If you need assistance with anything, please let us know. Enjoy!” she happily calls before giving a small bow and heading back to the front.

“Cure…” Rising breathily calls, turning to face the brown colt, “how much is all this costing?” she slowly asks.

“Umm… are you asking because you’re worried I’m spending too much or because you may wanna come with yer dam?”

“Both.”

“Ah. Well… It’s like seventy bits-”

“Eighty. Holiday rates,” Solar corrects, earning a glare from him and a few quiet gasps from his friends.

“Eighty bits,” Cure huffs before continuing as normal, “for a few hours to just get groomed and take advantage of the sauna and the salt bath and a style before you go. Don’t drink that, by the way, it’s ocean water. Other services are à la carte, so… yeah. It depends on what you do once you’re here. Now,” he says as they devolve into, thankfully, quiet chatter.

“Ahem!” he calls more loudly, getting their attention back. “Thanks. I want you all to get whatever done you want. That includes you two also,” he says to the adults. “Eat, drink, get massages, do the seaweed wrap, get your hooves done, horns filed, etcetera. As far as getting a style… eh, that’s up to you, but you know I can do whatever whenever, so feel free,” he finishes lamely with a shrug.

“Just don’t feel weird about going wild. I mean, don’t do crap you’re not actually interested in just for the heck of it, but I want you all to thoroughly enjoy this experience without concerns about money. You all know I make a ton of bits and, starting probably within the next few months, the projects I’ve submitted to reduce my tax liability will kick in, so I probably won’t be paying taxes anymore soon. That’s like a forty percent raise for me.”

“Forty percent?!” Starlight hisses out.

“Don’t get him started,” Dawn quickly warns. “He’s totally insane about taxes for some reason.”

“Taxes suck,” he defends. “You’ll see when the quarter ends and you get hit for them crystal sales, babe. So anyhow,” he continues, looking back over the group with a big smile, “how ‘bout we all get our rears scrubbed and get started?” he asks.

Cure makes his way to the grooming area along with everypony else. He’s directed to a station and told a pegasus would be by to take care of him shortly.

With him at six and a half hooves (twenty six inches or just shy of sixty-six cm) the mare that enters a few minutes later is only about three hooves taller. His sire, by comparison, is just shy of double his height and his moms are only about a hoof shorter than Deed is. The mare has a lighter, pastel purple coat and a more dull yellow mane and tail.

After a quick greeting she gives him a brief rundown of the process, probably as a way to make the foal feel more at ease with a stranger working on him.

As she gets started with the rubber brush she, with a gentle voice, asks, “Have you ever been to a professional groomer, honey? You must take care of your coat because I’m getting almost nothing off of you.”

“Oh yeah, I take good care of myself. Nopony wants to be around a gross colt, after all. I’ve never been to a professional, though. My dam gives me a trim out back ‘a our house when she says I need it.”

Starting on the left side of his neck she gently rubs in circles, working on his coat below the mane. When she gets to his shoulders she can’t help but comment on his physique. “You’re looking a little… umm… under weight, maybe? I think you need to eat a little more, sweetie. You don’t have a single gram of fat on you!”

“Oh, I eat a lot, I just burn it all off exercising,” he explains, flexing his chest and legs and getting a gasped “oh my” from the mare. The addition of the muscles needed for flight definitely bulked up his shoulders, back, and chest. “Yeah, everypony in our group is super fit. We go running a lot and I’ve been flying more recently. My parents are earth ponies, in case you couldn’t tell, so I didn’t used’ta fly much ‘cause dam was afraid I couldn’t fly ‘till recently.”

“Raise your left wing so I can get under it, please,” she gently requests as he talks. Once he’s done she looks him over curiously, focusing on the slightly bigger wings. “Both of your parents are earth ponies?” she asks with a raised brow.

“Yup. Got my coat from my sire, though he’s got a black mane ‘n tail instead of the dark brown I got. My mom likes to tease my dam sayin if it weren’t for our colors bein so close she would think I got switched at birth.”

The mare comes to a complete stop for a second to process that and, as she continues, only manages a thoughtful “huh” in response.

“Yeah, I’m definitely the weirdo of the family,” he continues, “but pa says not to let nopony talk down ta me. He always says I’m every bit as much earth pony as my siblings, whatever that means,” he adds with a shrug.

The mare makes agreeing noises as she lays on her barrel to get his left legs, then freezes in place, softly saying, “Oh. Oh my. I… uhh. I see. Well it’s, umm, good that you have a nice sire.”

“Yeah, he’s the best. I hope I can be a good sire like him someday too. Can I put my wing down?”

“Right… yeah,” she agrees, brushing his front leg. “Well, I’ve heard of tribes having foals from a different tribe on occasion. You must have had a pegasus relative at some point.”

“Mhmm. My dam’s great, great grandsire was a pegasus. She says he was the biggest fuh… err… the biggest darned pegasus she’d ever seen a’fore he died. All’a four of his wives were earth ponies, though.”

Starting on his hind leg, the mare absently blurts out, “He must have been huge.” Freezing with a dark blush she quickly apologizes. “Oh, sorry! Hey, just out of curiosity, you’re what, about what… twelve years old?”

“Nope!” he excitedly answers, “I’ll be nine in June. I’m just tall ‘cause of the earth pony blood. Ma says I’ll probably be thirteen hooves tall just like my sire someday, so I still got a lotta growin ta do. She says I’ll shoot up like a weed when I’m older or if I get my mark in the next year or so.”

“Sweet Celestia…” she mumbles, moving to his other side.

Conversation dies off as she works him over. She’s careful to avoid touching on a level that would be inappropriate for a young colt, though she is still a professional and cleans him from snout to tail.

The wing grooming is definitely his favorite part and he can certainly appreciate what a relief it must be for a pegasus with a feather out of place to get everything straightened out. Before sending him on his way the mare suggests he see the stylist before he leaves, if nothing else so he can get a fresh layer of oil applied to his wings since the soap she used on him removed it all.

Cure doesn’t care much for the sauna. Nothing about sweating his balls off and inhaling everypony else’s stank sounds like a fun time, even if ponies don’t get BO like humans. Instead he eases himself into the salt bath and spreads his wings like flotation devices to stay above water. Even with the high salt concentration his buoyancy is such that he can’t float until he adds a couple ballast chambers to his back by his haunches and shoulders and gets them inflated via spiracle chambers.

Gently pushing himself along with his wings he contentedly floats in the water. Most of his friends are off doing their own thing, so he paddles himself closer to Solar and Starlight who are side-by-side near the edge of the pool.

“Howdy,” he says as he approaches.

“Hey Cure,” Solar starts, halting at the “Riddle!” the smirking colt throws back at him. “Ugh. Riddle. Thanks for inviting us, by the way.”

“Anything for my bro,” he says, holding out a hoof.

Being a bro and all, Solar doesn’t leave him hanging.

“So, Starlight, Star Bright, first star I’ve seen… thus far today,” he sort of rhymes, getting a giggle from the mare. “My parents have a special date coming up this November and you’re just the mare I need to talk to.”

“Oh?” she asks.

“Mhmm. Their ten year anniversary. I’ll be nine in a few months, so if you do the math I’m sure you’ll come to some conclusions there.”

Cure can see the gears turning in her head and, when the look of realization hits she gives him a single raised brow.

Nodding, he clarifies, “Yep. My parents were fifteen, just a few months shy of sixteen, when my dam got her very first ever estrus. Instead of being thrilled to find they were going to have a grandson her… parents, if you can call them that,” he snarls, getting concerned looks from the pair, “threw her out and turned their rears on her. My sire’s folks are almost as worthless, apparently, so they had to do everything themselves.”

“Jeez dude, I’m sorry to hear that. I had no idea,” Solar confesses.

“Yeah, well, jokes on them ‘cause I’m frickin rich. Worthless fucking trash. Anyhow,” he says, refocusing on Starlight, “I want to give them the ceremony of my dam’s dreams. I could use your professional help if you’re available for hire.”

“Of course! Do you already have any idea of how big you want it to be?”

“Big. I can get ya a list of family with my mom’s help. Other than the fam’ I’m thinking the neighbors, the parents of my friends, the other market stall owners, and… well, half the damn town sounds great to me. Do you help with honeymoon planning too?”

As the colt explains, Starlight’s eyes get bigger and bigger to the point she’s almost vibrating in excitement. At his question she has to shake her head no, but has a solution for that as well. “I don’t do vacations myself, but I have a friend from school who does. I’ll work with her to find the perfect trip. Any ideas on what would be nice?”

“Cabin in the woods. Hiking, beautiful sunsets. Weather isn’t a problem for us, so it doesn’t need to be in a warm area. Hrm… I don’t know if my mom would go or not… hold on.”

<< Ma, talking to Starlight about dam and dad having a ceremony for renewing vows and a honeymoon in a cabin in the woods. I didn’t want to exclude you if you wanted to go. Don’t tell them, but should I tell Starlight to plan for three honeymooners or two? >>

Starlight looks curiously at Solar when the colt seemingly freezes, looking off in the distance. “Sending crystal,” he whispers to her.

“I need one of those…” she absently says.

“Damn, we must be out of range.” Cure glances over to the windows overlooking the bay and does a wing shrug, bobbing in the water from the motion. “Well, we are all the way on the opposite side of town. I’ll double check but I suspect mom will stay and we’ll watch the foals.”

“That’s fine,” she says. “Just let me know and we’ll get together to start figuring out the details.”

“Okay, sounds good. I have spare mid-lows at home, so just remind me when we’re leavin and I’ll give one to Dawn at school tomorrow to pass to this lug.”

“Oh. Thanks!”

“Sure. And Solar, your parents’ twentieth is next May, by the way.”

“Oh yeah. How’d you know that?”

“We traded wedding stories at the Hearth’s Warming party that somepony decided to skip without telling me.”

With a sheepish smile Solar ducks his head in acknowledgement. Starlight clears her throat and admits, “That may have been slightly my fault.”

“Ah. Waited ‘till the parents were gone to come over for a lil hanky panky, eh?” The two blush at the accusation, but don’t refute it at all. “Well, I can’t fault ya for that dude. I’ll definitely be skippin the party this year. Adding a pretty filly to snuggle with is just icing on the cake if ya ask me.”

“Oh? Didn’t enjoy it?”

“Nah, dude. I even got my balls busted at work ‘cause of an incident with some pricks there. Otherwise it wasn’t bad, but… meh.”

“You don’t talk like an eight year old,” Starlight notes, “Like… at all. I would swear you’re our age if your voice were deeper.”

Talking quietly so that the ambient music covers conversation, Cure explains, “Yeah, I get that a lot. Ya have to grow up fast when Harmony blesses ya with a mark that crams yer sire’s junk in your face the first time ya use it on another pony.

“Just an FYI, when I scan somepony I see everything whether I want to or not.” Despite her eyes going as wide as saucers he continues, “The flip side is that I’ve scanned about a thousand ponies by now, so… ya know… who cares? Seen seven hundred vaginas, seen ‘em all, right?”

Solar closes his eyes and slowly shakes his head. “Dude…”

“What? It’s true. The first four ponies I used my talent on, other than myself, were my sire, my mom, one of the crew, and then my dam. Trust me, it’s one hundred percent clinical for me, as I’ve told you before. Once your talent crams a few dozen nutsacks in your face they just become another body part.

“It ain’t no damn pleasure cruise, bro. Do you know what your bowels look like from the inside? I do, and if you’d like a peek just say the word and I’ll show you an Illusion. You’ll understand why I don’t act like a normal foal. Do you think your sire, as a medic, hasn’t seen anything and everything under Celestia’s sun?”

“Oh my stars,” she mumbles.

“He’s telling the truth,” Solar sighs. “He really is a professional about it. Even if he is a little… candid in the way he talks.”

“It comes with the territory, my friend. Oh, by the way, did Dawn fill you in on the whole foal gender thing?”

Solar recoils at the sudden, unexpected topic change. “What? No.”

“Eh, alright, fair. Sound Bubble, please.” Nodding, Solar quickly casts the spell so that only the three of them are inside it. “I can make ya produce only males. Or females. Or whatever ratio you want,” he explains. Ignoring their shocked looks he turns to Starlight, “I can also cause mares to have twins. Or triplets. Or not have an egg if ya just wanna have fun during estrus without the worry.

“Until y’all are sure it’s gonna last that last one’s a good idea, ya know? Just don’t call me if you end up accidentally pregnant thinking I’ll solve that problem. I understand there’s possible circumstances when that’s the least bad option but ‘We were horny and couldn’t wait a couple weeks’ doesn’t meet that criteria.”

“I would never!” Starlight instantly blurts out. Cure simply nods in acceptance.

“Sun and stars, Cure… I’m guessing from the Sound Bubble you realize that ponies would flock to you for more colts, right?”

“Yep. It’s like… agenda item two or three on my list for the boss lady. I figure in a few years when I’m older and can get around more easily one of the things I’ll be doing is fixing the whole gender imbalance thing.

“Between that and curing aging, not to mention all the disabilities I’m fixing, I’ll have my plate full. But the boss lady? She probably needs to start plannin for that now, assuming she wants the country to go down that road. We don’t want a total brodeo of a country in twenty years, after all.”

“Brodeo?” Starlight slowly says, chewing on the word. Once it clicks she nearly slips in the water giggling.

“Cure… aging?” Solar asks.

“Oh yeah, absolutely. I woulda talked to yer dam and sire about it already but I’m not a hundred percent sure he wouldn’t put it in some damn official report or whatever. But yeah, if they wanted a few more foals or whatnot I could make that happen for them, no problem. If y’all wanna hold off ‘till you’re older there’s nothin wrong with that either. Heck, I already do the cosmetic version of that right now. What do you think I’ll be able to do in five years, bro?”

“I’m honestly not sure what all you’re able to do now. You’ve had your cutie mark for, what, six months?” At Cure’s nod he continues, “The ideas you come up with absolutely blow my mind as it is. I can’t fathom what you really could do if you didn’t hold back, so yeah… I don’t doubt for a second that aging is just another thing on your list of inconveniences to address whenever you feel like it.”

Cure quickly turns to Starlight and adds, “I would ask that you not share any part of this conversation, by the way.” Doing his best to avoid sounding threatening, he adds, “I’m putting a lot of trust in you by telling you this. I’ll be very disappointed if I find it was misplaced.

“If you do have grandparents that are getting up there, though, feel free to say so. Unless they’re jerks like mine and you don’t want ‘em around another fifty years, that is,” he adds with a shrug.

The pair just stares, unsure how to answer, so the colt starts floating away, pausing before the edge of the bubble and calling over his withers, “Let me know if you come up with anything we need to move fast on, Star. I’mma go rinse off and get that freakin massage I’ve been waitin for for forever.”

The massage tables aren’t in solo alcoves like Cure expected. That ends up working pretty well because a few of the girls must have seen him headed that direction and decided to follow him in. Ferric takes the table to his left, Dawn hops on the one to his right followed by Glacial and Drift.

The massage ponies do a decent job, but Cure’s pretty sure he won’t indulge in them much in the future. He figures that he can try again when he’s an adult; the masseuse is probably being unusually gentle with him and, likely, the others because they’re foals. Between that and the subdermal mesh making him exceedingly tough he just doesn’t get much from it.

The highlight of the experience is when Glacial accidentally lets a toot slip out unexpectedly. She tried to play it cool, but between Drift’s snorted giggle and the way everypony’s ears all swiveled in her direction at the same time it was pretty obvious exactly what happened.

“Don’t worry, Glacial. Better out than in, I always say,” he teases. He instantly regrets it a little when not only do his friends burst out laughing, so do half of the massage ponies.

Thankfully, one of them adds her two bits to the situation saying, “I wouldn’t feel bad about it, honey. It happens all the time. We aren’t doin our jobs right if we don’t get farted on at least once a day.”

It still doesn’t help much, sadly, and the platinum filly glows with a pink hue the remainder of the massage. Just as they’re leaving the area Cure gets a Sending from his mom with news that he’d expected at some point in the day.

<< I couldn’t reach you earlier. We’re in Baltimare on our way to the show. Lemon and Amy came by. They’ve officially asked to join families. We’ve tentatively said yes, but we’ll need to talk about the whole princess thing, amongst other topics, before it’s official. >>

<< Congrats, ma! I have no objections as long as they’re aware of all the shit we’ve got going on. I’ll have to give them the memory talk at some point if they are still onboard. >>

<< Thanks, babe. They didn’t know about the show, but they’ll be coming back later and spending the night. >>

Thankfully alcohol laws aren’t nearly as stupid and inflexible as it is in humanlandia, or at least as in most of the US. Cure pretty easily convinced Solar to allow him and his friends to buy a bottle of sparkling wine and do a toast in honor of the families joining.

It was a little surprising that it was allowed given their ages. The legal drinking age for beer and wine in Equestria is fifteen. Hard liquor requires adulthood, so unmarked have to wait until eighteen to get totally hammered.

Technically, Solar had to make the purchase, but the staff gave exactly zero shits in reality. They didn’t bat an eye when asked to bring eleven small glasses with the bottle, not that slightly under seventy-five milliliters of bubbly is going to bother even Dawn, arguably the least hardy amongst the group.

Cure spent most of the rest of his time at the spa snuggling with various friends in their private relaxation area, occasionally piddling about in the bath before hopping out, rinsing off, and laying back down. The crew all had a good time and enjoyed the experience, though by the end of the third hour the novelty began to wear off and everypony was ready to head to dinner.

Solar paid the bill since there was, again, an alcohol purchase involved. A few of the foals that hadn’t been around gaped when Cure pulled out a couple thousand bit coins to pass to the young stallion.

Starlight’s ability to be surprised by the colt had clearly taken a hit, but even she was struggling to keep herself from lifting him up to see exactly where he pulled the coins out of.

The way he had his spatial bit pouch set up made it look like he was pulling coins out of his belly button. It wasn’t intentional, but from anywhere but the side it looked like he was pulling the coins out of his sheath. Rather than explain he just shot the young mare a sly wink while smirking.

Cure doesn’t make it home until a little after sunset. The group had gone to dinner at a normal restaurant; the more expensive, fancier places would have largely been a waste on the group of foals and they were all incredibly busy anyhow, given the holiday.

They stopped at Dawn’s for barely a moment so he and Heavy could go back to normal, then he escorted everypony home in a circle, starting with Rising. By the time he wished Delta Coast goodnight and gave her a quick nuzzle he felt completely worn out and was looking forward to collapsing at home.

It felt odd coming home to an empty house, especially with all of the lights turned off and no candles or lamps lit. Feeling a little anxious and vulnerable, Cure quickly makes his way upstairs and hooks into his home defense plant in his bedroom. He merges the thin, widely dispersed vines into a dozen thicker, stronger vines that are barely more than hoof-diameter tentacles.

With a two meter tall horn column in the middle of his room he can see the entire house and a couple hundred meters in every direction. Movement headed towards the front of his house startles him, causing a variety of airguns and dart launchers to quickly form, all of which are immediately pointed at the target, then turned away when he realizes who it is.

With a fond smile Cure watches as Ferric, using the light crystal he’d given her the night of his big reveal, sneaks up to his house. She’s got a long box on her back, laying diagonally over her left shoulder clear back past her right flank. She carefully sets the package in front of the door, knocks once, and immediately bolts back off towards her home. Giggling at the shy filly’s antics he turns on a light and unplugs himself, making his way to the door.

When he opens it he can barely make out her head poked around a tree a few houses down, far enough he wouldn’t have any hope of spotting her without his ridiculously improved eyes. Doing his best to mime surprise, he picks up the long, tied shut box, makes a show of looking around, and carries it inside, kicking the door shut.

The box has some decent weight to it, which is unsurprising given she is a blacksmith. Unable to contain his curiosity, he opens the box to find an unexpectedly lovely surprise. The gift she presumably made him, though he suspects she had help, has two parts. The first is a staff, nearly identical to the one on his mark.

Like his mark, it’s a plain staff, though the entire unit seems to be a single piece of metal with runic markings down the meter length and a spot for a crystal in the crown. It’s a beautiful staff and, judging by its weight, would be a formidable weapon in trained hooves.

The other part is a stand; the design of which makes him wonder which piece the filly put more effort into crafting. It has a heavy, thick base from which spirals up a snake, looping exactly three times before ending in a snake’s head at the top. The base has a short, metal vase, essentially, that the tip of the staff slides into perfectly and each part where the snake passes by has a half-loop to hold it upright.

The entire piece is simply fantastic and Cure can’t fathom how much work the filly must have put into it. Neither he nor Ed have any smithing knowledge, but he could easily see the immense amount of effort she must have poured into the set, whether her mark made it easier or not. He decides it would be more appropriate if he thanks her in pony instead of via Sending.

Caught staring at the piece, he almost jumps out of his coat, popping his horn out and spinning to face the door when he hears a knock. Seated only a couple meters away from the door, the aura penetrates enough to make out Amethyst on the other side with Lemon and the girls in tow.

“Come on in, Amy,” he yells, floating the unit by the stairs as the four make their way in. “Hey everypony, I hear congratulations are in order,” smiling broadly he belatedly adds, “moms.”

“HA! Them Sendin crystals sure are useful, colt,” she says, trotting over to wrap him in a hug. “Thanks a bunch, Cure, but ya don’t gotta call me ma if ya don’t wanna,” she insists, letting him go.

The fillies look pretty worn out and, after giving him a couple quick nuzzles, make their way to the toy chest to borrow a couple of Savvy’s plushies to play with.

Cure had spent an afternoon working with Lotus and was quickly able to eliminate the girl’s speech impediment. He’d rolled onto his back, rocking side to side as he held her against his chest, singing Row Row Row Your Boat with her. He was able to monitor and make minute changes to the nerve impulses firing in her tongue on the R sound, eliminating the mispronunciation.

It didn’t take more than a few verses before he was able to, essentially, hijack her system and make her tongue move the right way to properly produce consonant sounds. Of course the sing-along didn’t stop for a while after, even if a small break was necessary when her excited dam joined the pile hugging and kissing all over the pair.

“Yeah, honey,” Lemon agrees. “We know you’re a little on the older side for that. It’s okay if it would be a little too forced.”

Approaching the yellow mare for a hug, he says, “I’ll at least make an effort. You’ll be my moms a whole lot longer than not in the grand scheme of things.” The two separate as Cure levitates his gift closer to his mat to show off as the mares flop on Vines’ cushion together. Beaming, the colt can’t help but gush as he tells the two about it.

“Got yerself quite the herd, donchya son?”

Unable to hold back the sigh, he agrees explaining, “Yeah. I mean, I’m not trying to… I dunno, win their hearts or anything. I’m really just trying to be a good friend,” he says as the mares nod along. “Dawn said she would try to be more understanding months ago but she’s definitely struggling with jealousy whenever the girls are affectionate.”

“Eh, that’s just how unicorn culture is, Cure. I’m sure your moms have told you it’s not really the stallion’s role to deal with that. The girls’ll have to talk it out if you all end up in a relationship eventually.” With a shrug Lemon adds, “Stars, that’s how we ended up here, after all.”

“Ya got that right, Sweets,” Amethyst agrees with a quick peck on her cheek. Facing the colt she says, “Yer dam thought we could all get along so she talked to us about tryin.” With a haughty look she polishes her hoof on her chest and continues, “Yer sire took one look at this magnificent beauty and couldn’t help but agree, of course.”

“Well duh, obviously,” Cure agrees as if there could be any other possible result.

“Exactly,” she nods with a proud smile, “we all clicked, and now we’re ready to take the next step.”

“Well Amy, Lemon… I kinda figured we would have this talk tomorrow. I dunno what time my parents will be home. One sec.”

<< Hey ma, sorry to interrupt your evening. Amy and Lemon are here. Will you be home soon? >>

<< It’s fine, babe. We missed the seven o’clock train, so we’ll be a while still. We’re at the station now, waiting. >>

“Sounds like they’ll be a while. Did they tell you about the possibility of me moving to Canterlot sometime in the next year or two?”

“Yer sire said y’all may hafta relocate. I don’t have much’a anythin holdin me here cept Sweet’s shop.”

The yellow mare nods in agreement adding, “Yeah and having my own shop in the capital is a dream come true! I’m a little worried about the competition there but I’m sure I can make it.”

“I don’t have a problem supporting the family until everypony can get established,” Cure explains. “Not counting what I’ve set aside based on the estimate of my taxes, I already have over seventy grand in the bank.

“I’m assuming my parents have some saved up but I’ve never asked,” he continues despite the pair looking like they’re struggling to breathe. “Between the tax rebates and the higher income levels in the capital I’ll probably be making quite a bit more, so there’s certainly not any urgency for you to start turning a profit.”

After a moment of silence the two share a look. The only response Amethyst can muster is a thoughtful, “Huh.”

“We do have some savings, Cure,” Lemon starts, “and the candy bar ideas you’ve shared have really helped business pick up.”

“Yep, my Sweet’s been talkin ‘bout hirin somepony fer the desk so she can focus on her craft,” Amethyst supplies.

“Mmhmm, and the rent and referral bits you toss my way help more than you’d think, not to mention the happy customers leaving your shop and going wild buying candy to celebrate on the way out.”

“Meh, two or three a day isn’t much,” he argues.

“It’s an extra twenty to sixty bits I won’t say no to,” she points out.

“True.”

“So yeah, if we all end up moving it won’t be a huge problem.”

“Great. There’s only one other big hurdle then,” he says as he casts a Sound Bubble. The move draws raised brows from the two when the noise from the girls’ idle chatter and playing cuts out.

“I’m about to trust you with something that literally nopony but my parents know. I won’t ask for oaths or anything because you’ve both proven plenty trustworthy over the whole biomanipulation thing.”

He pauses until he gets understanding nods from the pair. “Shortly after my eighth birthday I started, for lack of a better term, remembering things. Imagine you wake up one day and, in addition to your memories you also have somepony else’s crammed in your brain.”

“Did you get seen by somepony? That sounds terrifying!” Lemon shouts.

A look of realization crosses Amethyst’s face. “This is why ya been so different since I was sick.”

“Yes, Amy. No, Lemon, I don’t think getting seen would have helped. Likely quite the opposite.”

“Why? It sounds like somepony attacked a foal to me!” Her reaction is more animated than Cure expected. The idea obviously gets her hackles up, as adorable as it seems coming from the adorable candy mare. “The Guard coulda maybe found them!”

“The memories weren’t from a pony,” he flatly answers, then holds up a hoof to stall the follow-up question. “They weren’t from any creature on this planet. They were the cumulative lifetime memories of a bipedal, vaguely apelike creature called a human from a completely different world.”

The mares trade uneasy looks, both frowning in thought. After a moment of contemplation Amethyst asks, “How long of a lifetime?”

“Edward Weaver died at forty-seven years and nine months old from a virus that destroyed his respiratory system.” Cure can’t quite hold back the tear that streaks down his cheek. “His wife preceded him in death, also from the virus, less than a day prior. His world was struggling against a global pandemic that, at that point, had killed a little under a million humans.”

Both gasp at the number before he clarifies, “A million sounds high, and it is, but their population numbers were insanely high compared to Equestria and, really, this entire planet. There were nearly eight billion, with a B, humans at the time of his death.”

Once again the mares pause for a moment to let it all sink in. All three glance over to the girls who are now using the plushies as characters in a play or something.

“Yer cutie mark, the trees, that way ya talk… all’a that is ‘cause of the memories, ain’t it?”

“Yes, probably. The lawyers we spoke to made a comment about trauma contributing to what mark a pony ends up with. As I’m sure you can imagine, having those memories, especially his wife’s death, shoved in my head had an impact.”

“Does dying hurt?” Lemon softly, near reverently asks. Amethyst shoots her a scolding look.

“Dying while hacking your lungs up sick as a dog does. Not as much as watching your wife of twenty years die, though. Even if it’s a different kinda hurt,” he solemnly admits.

Amethyst, laid on her barrel, holds her forelegs out for a hug. Happily accepting the invitation, Cure climbs off his mat, walks between them, and turns, collapsing with his back against her chest as she wraps him up and pulls him between the two, half turning onto her side at the same time.

After several minutes of being the target of snuggles, nuzzles, and a few grooming licks he sighs contently between the two.

Breaking the silence, Amethyst asks, “Ya don’t really think of yerself as a colt, do ya?”

“I try to be. For my dam, more than anything,” he admits. “It’s not easy to act like a foal when you have almost thirty years of adult memories in your head.”

“I bet not,” Lemon agrees. “Hey, wait, is that where the candy ideas came from?”

“Yup. Ed loved PayDays and caramel is my favorite too.”

“Huh… no wonder you already had a name ready for each one. It seemed so weird coming from a colt with a healing cutie mark. Sweet Celestia! No wonder you have such great business ideas!” she finishes in a shout.

“That’s just the tip of the iceberg, Lemon. Technologically humans were between one and three centuries ahead of ponies. They had absolutely no magic though… or if some did they kept it secret.

“I’m confident our worlds are linked, though, because there’s sooooo many similarities. City names, animals, plants, languages, not to mention they had a form of entertainment where one of the stories had so much in common with this world it couldn’t possibly be coincidence.”

“Yeah?” she curiously asks.

“Yup. The setting was a magical land of ponies, ruled by the benevolent monarch, Princess Celestia. The ponies looked a lot different from us, but that can be chalked up to the target demographic of the show. It was aimed mainly at young girls and the main theme was that friendship is magic.”

“That’s weird as Tartarus,” Amethyst says with furrowed brows. “And I’m amazed yer parents did’n freak out when ya told ‘em.”

“I think the fact I was bawling my eyes out helped distract them, but they did a little,” he confirms. “I was able to convince them I’m not nuts. I mean… an overly elaborate lie is way, way harder to come up with. Besides, it’s not like I don’t have my memories too.”

Lemon tilts her head curiously and asks, “And you have no idea what caused it?”

“Nope. I think it may be because dam had me right when the princess was raising the sun just over in Baltimare. That doesn’t explain why it’s never happened before. I’m sure over the centuries I’m not the first foal born at that exact time. Or why it took eight years for the memories to return. I could see if she was here again last year, but she wasn’t. I don’t even know where she was last time.”

“Dunno,” Amethyst says.

“Somewhere on the west coast. Was it Las Pegasus, babe?”

“Sounds right,” Amethyst gives her an unsure half-shrug.

“Well whatever caused it, I’m just glad you actually believe me and aren’t freaking out.”

“Ain’t no sense losin my mind over somethin that happened seven months ago,” Amethyst points out. “’Sides, all’a the evidence lines up with what yer sayin. Ya obviously know more’n a normal foal oughta, strange as it all is. It don’t seem all that much stranger’n mosta the shit I heard some of them unicorns can do.”

“Except the show part,” Lemon agrees. “That’s bizarre.”

“Yeah, well, I’ve heard dreams wistfully described as peeking into another realm,” Cure explains. “The only explanation I have is that, somehow, that’s more-or-less what happened. Some human dreamed about our world, or one like it, and thought we were cute enough to make a little girl’s show about it.”

“Huh. That’s a lot to take in, Cure.”

He leans over and gives the yellow mare a nuzzle, nodding into her side. “It is. I know. Talk to me like an adult if you want to. I don’t mind. Just please, be patient with me. Sometimes the colt brain does take over. Especially when I’m tired or emotional.”

She leans down and returns the affections. “I think we can do that, honey.”

“Cool. Now that you’re all sworn in, who wants to see the really fucked up shit I’ve made like the giant alicorn body and home defense tentacle mega unicorn plant?”

Once again the mares find themselves trading looks, though this time out of wariness about what exactly they’ve signed up for.

Author's Note

I couldn't help but notice the like/dislike thing was at 666 and 32. Is it weird that some OCD part of my brain is almost hoping someone comes along and hits dislike just so the numbers look right?

So, I know Cure's comments to Solar and Starlight may seem offputting, that's more or less how anyone in a medical field has to act. They may not say it out loud to people that aren't in the know, but I can guarantee you that after the X'th vagina, barring something REALLY weird, a gynecologist might as well be looking at an elbow. Even your family doctor has seen all that shit enough times that it's completely mundane.

Also, just like his family was, I accept that it may seem really, really weird that Amethyst and Lemon are just rolling with the whole memory thing. Honestly, I think their reactions are better than I wrote for the fam's, but either way these are creatures living in a magical world where nothing is impossible.

Despite there being exactly ZERO real evidence of magic, if you'd asked folks if it was possible a hundred years ago I bet you'd be shocked at how many would say yes. Hell, you'd probably be surprised how many people still think that's the case. These are all creatures living in a world where magic is a fundamental part of life, so something that would throw our world into chaos will barely get a "Huh, that's new" from them.

I'm super pressed for time. I tried reading through this several times to find typos but I'm a little concerned more may have slipped by than normal. Now that I've put that in print it'll probably be the first typo-free chapter ever, but hey, who knows? Anyhow, it was either publish now or wait until tomorrow, so I figured screw it.

Thanks for reading, folks.