Sunday, June 7th, 909 AB (the next morning)

“Good morning, your majesty,” a familiar, and more importantly given her guest, expected voice gently calls. “It’s nearly time to raise the sun. Also, you absolutely have to come to Lord Serpentus’ suite before you do!”

Celestia takes a deep breath, blowing it slowly out her snout in a half-sigh-yawn before her servant’s words register. Wary of what madness Cure could have unleashed, she quickly, if reluctantly, climbs out of bed. An alicorn-sized steaming cup of black tea floats just below her nose; the bold, earthy fragrance and promise of a quick pick-me-up coax her to sufficient wakefulness to take it in her magic.

“Mmm… bless your beautiful heart, Primrose,” she breathily sighs. “Loath as I am to ask, I know I must.” Steeling herself for the answer, she worriedly inquires, “What’s he done?”

The yellow unicorn giggles at her mistress, holding a hoof up to forestall Celestia’s worry. “Oh, no! He’s not done anything at all, your majesty! Aside from getting a good night’s sleep, that is. Sandy went to wake him and simply couldn’t force herself to because… well, I’ll not spoil it, but you really must see for yourself!”

Celestia lets out a relieved breath and gives the mare a nod, motioning for her to lead the way as she takes a large, undignified gulp. Primrose nearly dances on her hooves to the door, giggling to herself all the way out into the hallway. Celestia is surprised to find only one guard stationed outside. At her questioning look the stallion gives a salute, then rolls his eyes and jerks his head to his right towards Cure’s door just as Primrose disappears inside.

Curiosity well piqued, Celestia follows the yellow mare into the room, past his living room area, and towards the small herd of mares gathering at his open bedroom door. She notes the presence of not only her missing guard, but the two mares assigned to Cure’s room as well.

As she approaches, she detects a spell in effect around the group; a Sound Bubble, she realizes, after a quick analysis. Its purpose becomes evident as she passes through; cooing, fawning, and gushing exhalations fill the small space, the Bubble preventing Cure from hearing their commotion.

Drawing breath to scold them, she pauses as she catches sight of the colt in his bed. He is laying with his wings draped around the barrel of a large plush toy modeled after his dam. Snuggling Vines is on her back, forelegs looped over the colt possessively; her right over his left shoulder and trailing down his right wing, the left below his right wing and drooped over his rear.

A completely involuntary “Awwww!” escapes her lips before she has any hope of stopping it. Primrose nods rapidly in agreement with the sentiment. “That’s why Sandy put up the Bubble! It’s just too cute!” she all but squeals while dancing in place. “He’s just so adorable, your majesty! What should we do? I know he needs his shower before breakfast, but…” she trails off, waving a hoof at the heartwarming display.

Celestia sighs as she inhales another gulp from her tea, taking a moment to ponder the situation. Fortunately, an idea comes to her almost immediately. “Primrose, dear… do you happen to know where SD’s office is?” The beaming smile is all the answer she needs.

Grumbling halfheartedly, Cure takes another big bite of his breakfast and shoots a weak glare to the smug princess. He’s not really angry with her; if he’s being honest with himself he can’t wait for his dam to get a copy. He knows from experience that a parent will always be thrilled to see undeniable proof their child adores them, even if they’ll happily wield said proof to embarrass them years later.

“Oh shush, I can tell you don’t actually mind,” Celestia chides, rolling her eyes at his foalishness. “You were awake after the first flash anyhow, you big pretender.”

“It’s the principle of the thing! How would you like it if I snuck inta yer room and took pictures of you sleepin?”

“Need I remind you that you did sneak into my room?”

“At least I brought you breakfast,” he points out. She raises a single brow and looks meaningfully at the mostly eaten stack of pancakes in front of him. “It’s not the same,” he pouts as he takes another bite.

“Now I know you’re just trying to be difficult.”

“Yeah, mostly. Besides,” he starts as he reaches into his mane and withdraws a rolled up paper, then slides it over to the princess, “only chumps need a camera.”

Somewhat warily, Celestia takes the paper in her magic and unrolls it. The image is of her, unadorned, sleeping in bed, likely from when he brought her breakfast. The perspective of the image is from a couple meters directly above the bed.

It’s not at all what she expected, truth be told. Cure obviously took some artistic license, as her mane and coat are nowhere near that pristine, nor are her feathers that orderly when first waking.

She is laid on her back, turned slightly to her right; her left wing draped somewhat tantalizingly across her belly and right wing spread wide, flat on the bed. Her forelegs are folded tightly to her chest and hind legs are drawn up, also twisted to her right to maintain her modesty from the perspective of the viewer.

Her head is turned right, laid on a golden pillow which gives room for her horn to point to the top right corner of the picture. A serene smile adorns her face. In the top left is a copy of her cutie mark with the words “Light Before Dawn,” a word on each line, in elegant cursive.

Cure watches as the princess drinks the picture in. He had come so, so close to recreating Luna’s slightly different picture instead, but thought the more flattering image he’d created would be more impactful. From the quiet gasp, the way she holds a single hoof to her cheek, and the mouthed “oh my goodness,” he’s pretty sure he made the right choice.

Celestia slowly turns back to the still eating colt, not releasing the picture from her magic. “Cure… this is absolutely lovely.”

“Yeah, I figured you’d like that better than this one,” he says, hoofing over another page.

This one is nearly an exact duplicate, though from a slightly further away point of view. Instead of a serene smile, Celestia’s tongue is colored blue and hanging out the side of her mouth, partially laying on her pillow. A plate, smeared with the remnants of some lapped-up blue icing, sits discarded by her head. Her left wing, instead of covering her belly, is barely able to wrap around the massive bulge and, instead of her cutie mark, a gaping shark’s maw is open with a small cake about to be swallowed on her visible left flank.

Celestia slowly looks up from the second picture to find Cure shaking in his seat, barely holding back laughing at her expression. She calmly sets both aside and takes a single, dainty bite of her oatmeal before remarking, “I think I preferred the first one.”

“Me too,” he earnestly agrees. “So, when are we going to the hospital? My appointments for today are at the Canterlot one, right?”

“They are,” she confirms. “If you are prepared, we can head out as soon as we’re done eating. I assured them we would be there by seven thirty, so we have about fifteen minutes before we must leave. For most of the day I’ll be in the reception area with the arriving dams while you’re making rounds in the rooms. If I have to leave for any reason I’ll have Lt. Spear notify your guards.”

“My… guards? I’m going to have a set of guards following me?”

“Of course you are, Cure. Though you are not yet a prince, your position warrants their presence. Do not worry; they will not get in the way at all. You’ll likely not even notice them at all unless there’s a specific reason to. They’ll stay in the hall when you’re assisting somepony.”

“Okay. They do have similar instructions, right? If something happens, clear out the bystanders, stay out of the way, all that stuff?”

“They do. They have been made aware that, despite your youth, you are capable of taking care of yourself. Again, that will not be necessary. I will take great umbrage with anycreature that causes a disturbance worthy of our attention today.”

“Okay. Good enough for me, boss. Hey, I got a question for ya.”

“Hmm?”

“Is it safe to use Sending here? I’ve avoided trying to Send messages to you in case there was some kind of active protection enchantment in the castle or something.”

“There isn’t anything to be concerned about. When you last visited I had you added to the ward’s list of approved signatures. If anypony not on record were to Send me a message it would be blocked by the castle’s protections.”

“Neat. Do you get… like, bombarded when you leave the grounds?”

“I think you may be underestimating the complexity of that spell. I’m frankly amazed Dawn Glow does not have a cutie mark in spellcasting, or even specifically transmutation spells. There are perhaps fifty unicorns in the city that have that spell committed to memory. The breadth of her abilities is incredibly impressive.”

“Ah. I forget sometimes how easy I have it,” he admits. “Just so you are aware, I would very much like to get her enrolled at your school next year too.”

“So long as her academics are adequate I’m certain…” Celestia trails off when she notices the servant stopped to her right. A light green pegasus mare had approached her side to refresh her tea and, inadvertently, caught sight of the cake picture. Cure full-on snorts, ducking under the table laughing his tail off. The mare freezes and, ever so slowly, turns her head up to meet the princess’s gaze. “Good morning, Cool Mint,” she flatly greets.

The mare looks at the princess with what can only be described as awe. “I am so jealous, your majesty! I had no idea alicorns could just eat whatever and keep looking so amazing!” She turns and starts heading to the door as she calls back over here withers, “I know you’re leaving soon. We have some of the chocolate cake left over from dinner last night! I’ll be right back!”

“Wait, Mint!” Celestia calls just as she reaches the door. The pegasus pauses and looks back in question. Celestia ponders only for a moment. “Perhaps just a small slice to start the day?” With an eager nod the mare vanishes through the door.

Celestia turns back to the smug look on the colt. “Ya know, boss, I seem to recall a conversation about accidentally causing things to happen. This,” he waves to the unflattering picture, “isn’t supposed to be a picture of things to come, but ya know…” he trails off, looking down her sides.

“Quiet, you,” she huffs, defiantly turning away from the brat. “I said a small slice anyhow.”

“If I wasn’t meant ta fly then Harmony wouldn’t’a given me wings, princess.”

“Oh quit your bellyaching. It didn’t take that long.”

Cure keeps trotting on three legs as he reaches back into his mane and whips out his pocket watch, then activates the illusionary time projection for everypony to see. He gives an unimpressed look at the princess as the three stroll down the corridor, their six guards trailing behind a few body lengths.

“She got to fly here,” he pouts, pointing a wing at the purple pegasus in armor. Lt. Spear wisely doesn’t comment, though she does have to turn away from the colt to hide her smirk.

The pair had, despite his foalish whining, taken a carriage from the palace to the main campus of Canterlot Hospital. He knew full well there was no way they would just fly there. Only two of the six guards are even pegasi, and Celestia just gave him a flat look when he pointed out the others could use the Butterfly Wings spell. Mostly he just wanted to complain for the fun of it. He figures not many ponies give the princess a hard time, so the only logical thing to do is to make up for all of them.

The births aren’t just happening at one location. With Cloudsdale’s arrival the two cities are able to pool their resources. A section of cloud with a large hospital, one of the four the city has, had been floated down from the main city and was moored northwest of the palace.

Cure and Celestia had watched the process from one of the towers last night prior to going to bed. Dozens of pegasi moved the cloud carrying the building at a snail’s pace down from the slightly higher city, lining it up with a docking area, then extending a street or, really, a bridge so that ground-based ponies can enter without having to worry about falling through the clouds.

The bats and pegasi maneuvering the cloud bringing the building down were like a combination of tug boats and bees, buzzing around the larger vessel while slowly nudging, rotating, and guiding it into the designated spot. The precision was impressive, and the way they eased the facility perfectly into position made the complex operation seem completely routine.

The arrival of the alicorns at the front of the hospital is a blatant PR move. No attempt was made to disguise or downplay the event and, along with several families making their way in, dozens of reporters were calling out questions and taking pictures. Celestia gave them all a very basic statement explaining that the soon-to-be-crowned Prince Serpentus will be assisting expecting dams while Celestia, as she typically does, will provide aid and comfort as best she can while they wait until everypony is ready.

Fortunately their carriage stopped far enough away to not interfere with families on their way to welcome a new member. The pair had come early enough that only a few dams were going into labor, relatively speaking. Nearly everypony arriving right now is here according to schedule rather than urgent need, and the big glut won’t hit for another day or two.

Canterlot’s population totals approximately seventy-five thousand, a little over a fifth more than Baltimare proper, but slightly lower than the entire metropolitan area. The city’s unique geography makes it impossible to have suburbs as near as many larger cities. One would typically expect the nation’s capital to be a larger city, but several factors (mainly being half way up a mountain) prevent that.

Housing is expensive due to very limited land, obviously, but construction expenses are prohibitively high for most ponies due to the requirements imposed by the city’s government. Aesthetic requirements are rigidly enforced, much like a city-wide HOA, but with explicit government backing. Quartzite is a common construction material in commercial areas, and that can only be found in the Unicorn Range of mountains northwest of Chicoltgo or, more commonly, far to the south in the Appaloosan mountains.

The wooded area at the foot of the Foal Mountains to the southeast provides abundant lumber, but for the better woods like maple or oak one has to look further, either to the northwest near Vanhoover for the former or west for the latter. Unlike passenger trains, the transportation of building materials isn’t subsidized, so a train car full of building materials costs a fair amount more to move than it would to buy every ticket that could fit on a similarly sized passenger car.

While Canterlot doesn’t have official suburbs, Forest Heights is located to the southeast of the mountain and Brightwood is slightly north of that. Neither is exactly convenient even if they’re close enough for commuting. Each is about thirty minutes away by commuter train. They’re still good options for ponies that work in the city yet can’t afford to or don’t want to live on the plateau.

Ponyville, while nearby, is located to the city’s southwest on the opposite side of the mountain from the other suburbs. The developing township is actually physically closer to Canterlot than the other two, but as Detrot, Foaledo, and other larger metros are to the east, so are the rails that trek up the mountainside.

Anypony going to Canterlot from the future hotspot has to loop around a circuitous route a short distance from the southern base of the Canterhorn before making their way up. The commute is a ten minute flight for a pegasus, even circling around the castle’s “no fly” zone, and takes nearly an hour and a half for ground bound ponies.

As they were ushered into the building, Celestia sidled up next to an expecting unicorn couple. The golden button stuck on the stallion’s saddlebag indicates his wife is one of the ones that has an appointment with Cure, so the princess was absolutely confident assuring the first time dam that she couldn’t ask for an easier foalbirth experience. The couple were escorted off to a check-in area while Celestia, Cure, and co. are shown to an employee area towards the back of the hospital wing.

As the group is escorted into the building Cure gets a good look at the layout of the hospital’s maternity ward. It reminds him of some of the nicer emergency rooms from Ed’s memories. The entire building is a two story rectangle. The birthing rooms line the outside of the hallway with the occasional maintenance or miscellaneous room interspersed.

The hallway itself is large; tall enough that pegasi have room to race overhead and wide enough that eight earth ponies could run down it side-by-side without touching. The far wall is lined with rooms for specialists where dams with an emergency can be taken for a caedares procedure (old Ponish for a cesarean) or other unexpected needs such as bipedal visitors.

Miscellaneous areas like staff break rooms, nursing stations, supply areas, and restrooms make up the interior, though there are several narrower, but still fairly wide connecting hallways between the two. Two large stairwells are on the northeast and southwest corners of the building leading up to the other floor that follows the same design.

In the dead center of the building is a larger crossing hallway with an open space between the floors for pegasi messengers or EMTs. The area has a pair of two meter wide cylinders (one for each direction) that act as express lanes for fliers. They are short, only protruding up and down a half meter on either side of the floor or ceiling.

In order to assist anypony with too wide of a wingspan, hoof-sized kick plates are affixed to the interior of the up column. It wouldn’t be necessary for bats or pegasi with their shorter, songbird-shaped wings, but griffons or hippogriffs can use the plates to bounce up if they find themselves stalling out or are concerned about clipping the walls with their wings.

Though she would have to tuck her legs and be mindful of her horn, the princess could even fit through with little effort. Alternatively a very short duration Reduce or a two-meter Blink would likely make her trip easier all around.

The entrances are green and exits are red and, along with signage and arrows, make it difficult for anypony to accidently go in the wrong way. There’s also a safety barrier on the top floor to keep anypony from accidentally taking an unexpected plunge.

To the north and south east of the columns are a pair of large elevators for wingless staff and patients. Cure hasn’t seen many buildings with those installed. He knows they’re not electric, but hasn’t had the opportunity to inspect one to see how they work. Like some of the ones Ed had seen in old TV shows, the elevators have operators that run the controls. He suspects some kind of enchantment is affecting a counterweight, altering the effective mass to raise or lower the lift.

“The lieutenant was providing escort. You know that,” Celestia points out with a sigh.

Scoffing, Cure reaches over and pokes the ancient mare with his wingtip. “A convenient excuse! It took twenty minutes! I know when yer like a billion years old,” he hears a muffled snert from a guard as her brow furrows, “it’s not a big deal, but ya gotta remember, boss… ain’t all of us older than the mountain we’re standin on.”

Normally Cure wouldn’t harass her in public, but with only her and her trusted guards within earshot he knows she won’t be upset. They are amongst the few that get to see the mare below the crown, so to speak, so they’re aware of the princess’s sense of humor.

“Do you know what I did to the last pony that made a joke about my age?”

“Needing reminders is a sign of dementia,” he flatly observes.

“I put them in charge of a city,” she threatens.

Cure recoils so hard he almost falls into the lieutenant, quickly surrendering to the mare. “You win, boss.” He wipes a nonexistent bead of sweat off his brow, griping, “Jeez… lil teasin and she’s bustin out the siege weapons over here.”

A call of “Your highness!” is eagerly shouted by an older light gray pegasus emerging from a room further down the hall. Like the ponies from the Baltimare RHA board he’s met over the months, she’s wearing clothes; a rather nice looking business suit that, through the lense of Edward’s memories, seems more masculine than feminine.

That’s another area where he’s had to adjust his perspective, though. Clothing, aside from purely functional safety or protective garments, is so uncommon in Golden Hills that it draws attention when worn. Dawn loves her pajamas, but that’s more of a tactile pleasure than anything. Medical professionals occasionally wear coats, but that’s for the pockets as much as it is for “the look.”

Dresses, or dress-like apparel, is not for females only. Certainly the designs of such make the target demographic easy to discern, but mechanically there is little difference for a pony between a cold weather cloak and a legitimate dress.

Ed never thought to look up why kilts and togas went out of fashion for guys. He’d happily go through a Saturday never bothering to put on anything but boxers and a robe if he could manage it. Whatever caused the shift on Earth didn’t make its away to Equus, evidently.

With less rigid societal rules regarding clothing gender assignments, professional mares dress more or less the same as stallions. Cure can’t deny that the charcoal suit jacket and white undershirt convey a more professional look than simply going au naturel, and, frankly, an attractive woman in a crisp, clean, professional suit was, for some reason, something that Ed always found attractive too.

“Err… Highnesses?” the mare ponders, looking up and idly scratching at her chin with a hoof. “Yes, I suppose that works. Wow, that’s going to take some getting used to!” she exuberantly declares.

“Good morning, Director Storm,” Celestia greets as the pair approach. Cure approaches the excited mare. “I would like you to meet Serpentus. Serpentus, Director Waning Storm.”

“You beautiful colt you!” she exclaims, stepping forward to wrap Cure in a tight foreleg and wing hug. “This is an unparalleled age of healthcare innovation thanks to you, young stallion! If you didn’t already have a set of wings I’d offer to give you mine! The tens of thousands that will be saved over the coming years just from the Antiviral, Immunization, and Origin Cell trees… I can’t… I can’t even imagine!

“And just when somepony got me everything I could ever want for Hearth’s Warming what does her highness tell me?” she asks, squeezing him tighter. In a poor impression of the mare she continues, “‘These trees may increase the odds of a colt. Here’s the paperwork. Let me know how it goes!’” and finishes with a scoff. She sets the colt down and, with a hoof on each shoulder, stares into his eyes and asks, “How big?”

Cure’s dirty mind immediately goes in the wrong direction as he glances between the mare, Lt. Spear, and the princess with a quizzical look, wisely keeping the immediate and inappropriate answer that comes to mind to himself. “Huh?”

“The statue I’m putting in our lobby! How big do you want it? Should we wait a few years until you’re an adult or just go ahead and do one of you as a foal?” Her ears and wings shoot straight up as she exclaims, “OOH! We’ll do one each year! I don’t care if it’s not in the budget! We’ll have a whole room of Serpentus statues!”

Celestia quietly laughs at the horrified look on the struck speechless colt’s face. “I believe one will be more than enough, Director. At least, for now it will. I’m sure that before too long statues of young Serpentus will grace many medical institutions.”

“Ugh…”

“Come now, have you any idea how many statues have been made in my likeness over the centuries?”

“Hundreds, I’m sure,” he reluctantly concedes.

“Many, many hundreds,” she agrees with a nod.

“Yep,” Director Storm agrees, consolingly patting him on the withers, “you’ll get used to it, sooner or later, I’m sure. Come along,” she says, turning and waving to a staff meeting room door, “let me walk you through the process we’ve set up for you and introduce you to your teams.”

Cure and Celestia follow the director into the large meeting room as several ponies are still making their way in from the other entrance. The room is arranged like many assembly rooms from his memories; small tables on either side with a walkway in the middle and a larger table at the front. A blackboard sits behind and to the left of the presenters’ table with what appears to be a staff schedule written out.

Cure is somewhat surprised at the diversity of the staff, meager as it may be. A dozen creatures; four teams of three each occupy a table. The first three are the expected combination of ponies; two unicorns per team with two pegasi and an earth pony filling the third slots. The fourth, however, consists of a bat mare, a hippogriff stallion, and a griffon chick.

That the lead to a “walked into a bar” joke is sitting there isn’t even remotely the most surprising part, though. What causes Cure’s brain to nearly bluescreen is the horn on the hippogriff’s forehead. The only possible explanation that comes to mind is that the stallion is the product of a male griffon and a female unicorn, but he remembers Cpt. Shield specifically said she’d never even heard of a hippogriff with a horn.

The colt forces himself not to stare, but he’s pretty sure the extra second of focus on the stallion was noticed. He figures he’ll get a pass, though, as both the princess and the lieutenant did a double take when they noticed him as well.

With the slightly muted twinge of embarrassment creeping down his spine, Cure follows Director Storm to the front and seats himself on a booster to her left between her and the princess. A light green earth pony mare is already seated to the director’s right.

“Alright everypony,” she calls to quiet the few murmurs, “I’d like to introduce you all to our soon-to-be prince, Serpentus.” Cure smiles and gives a wave with his hoof. “We already have our first few patients arriving, so we’ll make this quick. We’ll do a quick round of introductions then, Serpentus, could I ask that you please give everycreature a brief explanation of what to expect while working with you?”

Very quickly, each one stands, gives their name, position, and rattles off how many seasons they’ve worked. All but a few have a dozen or more seasons of experience.

“... and the young lady beside me is Nursing Assistant Serene Glade. She’ll be acting as your coordinator today, keeping track of what’s going on with your patients and pointing out where you’re needed next.”

“Sounds good,” he comments and shoots her an appreciative smile. With team introductions done, Cure stands on his hind legs with his forehooves on the table to be more easily visible. He circulates his magic into his lungs, throat, and vocal folds and speaks in a soft, conversational tone, “Good morning everyone.” The soft, but suffusing effect gets more than a few raised brows.

“I have assisted with the birth of over a hundred and fifty foals, and only pony foals due to the demographics in the area I worked. That’s not an insignificant number, but I’m sure it pales to those of you with years and years of experience.

“The plan is for you to tell me what needs done for a patient and I’ll either make it happen or tell you if I can’t. I don’t see the latter happening often. I can fix any in utero health conditions, induce labor, encourage cervical dilation, disable pain receptors, stimulate the dam’s birthing muscles, and more.

“Bottom line? Point me at a mare that’s at term and you can have a delivered, healthy foal and patched up dam in five to ten minutes, quicker if she’s already started herself. Last time I was told to only heal the dam enough to stabilize her so I didn’t run out of magic. That’ll be a concern until I’m a little older, but if something needs done then speak up. I’ll let you know if I’m dipping under fifty percent.” Speech done, Cure turns to the director and gives her a smile and a shallow nod.

“Excellent!” the mare exclaims with a flutter of her wings and a clap. “Today will be a good day for you all to familiarize yourselves with each other while assisting our most at-risk patients. Patient info and status will be filtered to Nurse Glade. She’ll monitor everycreature’s progress and show Serpentus where he’s needed most. Ideally, he’ll step in and get the foals in motion, then, unless further assistance is required, he will move to another room to conserve his magic.

“Dr. Thunder,” she nods to the bat pony, “and her team will be primarily assisting with pegasi, bats, and other creatures while the rest of you will be mostly helping our unicorn populace today. We have mostly pegasi scheduled tomorrow and Tuesday, at which point we will have taken care of most of our higher risk patients. We’ll be monitoring progress and adjusting the schedule for Wednesday and ongoing, so we’ll reevaluate where we stand tomorrow at lunch, okay?”

With a round of agreements sounding out the director claps her hooves and calls for everycreature to suit up.

Unlike last time, Cure doesn’t have a gown assigned to him. He does still have a vest over his withers with his name and cutie mark, but with the assurance that he’s entirely sterile they didn’t bother ordering him the usual attire. He stands out as the only pony working in the birthing areas that’s naked, but standing out has gotten a little more routine given his appearance, so it doesn’t bother him much.

The four teams are moved to rooms near the front lobby while Lt. Spear and Celestia head towards the front to join the expecting families. In addition to comforting the soon-to-be parents, the princess will also be assisting with foalcare for the families that already have some. The ancient mare’s excitement at the prospect of spending time with the little colts and fillies is downright adorable; her bright smile and fluttery wings really do light up a room.

The first set of patients are brought back while Nurse Glade reviews their notes with the midwives and arranges a treatment order. With most of the roster not even being in labor yet there isn’t a sense of urgency like last time. The first patient is selected and the colt is sent in with a quick rundown.

“Good mornin, folks,” he greets as he trots into the room. The husband is sitting to the side out of the way as the pegasus assistant gets the patient ready. The CNM is beside the mare using a diagnostic spell, but the nurse is standing by, having little to do at the moment.

“Twins, right?” he asks as he taps the cleaning crystal. He’s not going to physically touch anything, but knows it’s just standard procedure.

The clearly anxious husband immediately nods. “Yep! Our first time trying and we hit the double jackpot!”

“Excited?” Cure asks.

“You betcha!” he excitedly replies. The stallion leans forward more nervously and waves Cure closer with a hoof. “Hey, uhm… can I ask you something?”

The odd behavior draws looks from everypony, but the colt mentally shrugs and approaches him anyhow. “What’s up, dude?” he quietly asks.

“Not to question you or anything, but… you seem awfully young. Do you really know what you’re doing?”

Four heads swivel in the husband’s direction as the wife open-mouthed gawks at her husband. “Searing Glaze!” she shouts, startling the stallion so bad he jumps to his hooves. “I am so sorry, your highness! He hasn’t slept much, what with his nerves and the doctors and -”

“It’s alright, really,” Cure interrupts, waving a hoof placatingly. “I am young, but I know what I'm doing, which is, for the most part, listening to the experienced professionals that have been doing this for years. Just out of curiosity, you did sign up to get an appointment with me, right?”

“We did,” she answers as the husband eagerly nods. “We had a consultation with Dr. Dawn at CUMC and she highly recommended we sign up as soon as we could. We were lucky enough,” she says while glaring at the shrinking stallion, “to be one of the first ones.”

“Ah. I’ve heard good things about her. I actually need to stop by the university for a project of mine while I’m in town. Maybe I’ll get to meet her while I’m there. Well if you’re all set we can get you taken care of right away,” he says. “I just need to know how numb you want to be for the process. You’ll feel something no matter what, but no pain unless you want me to use a light touch.”

With a pleading look, the mare immediately responds, “No pain please!”

“You got it,” he cheerfully calls as his horn ignites in a chocolatey glow. The scan shows a pair of identical fillies sharing a single placenta; a situation that can result in one receiving less nourishment. Cure had already been cleared to treat issues as they came up, so he doesn’t hesitate to steal a little fat from dam and hit the underweight filly with a round of healing. “Ready, Nurse Swaddle?”

The CNM gives him a quick nod and gets in position while the nurse wheels over a cart with two blanketed trays for the newborns and some towels. “All set, colt,” she calls once she’s situated. She freezes and goes wide-eyed at her casual address of the future royal, but Cure doesn’t care in the slightest.

“Alright nurse, starting in three. Rupturing the first sac,” he calls.

The first several appointments go off without a hitch, even if Cure couldn’t pop the foals out as quickly as he had been able to during the last season. With him having to kickstart the process he’d had to ramp up his sugar intake and magic production earlier than he’d hoped. Thanks to having triple the reserves he had before he still maintains a sustainable level, but he’s kicking himself for not borrowing one of his parents’ larger bags to fill with magic-producing biomass.

Finished with his first hour, the colt slips out of the room as soon as the foal comes out, delighted to find Nurse Glade waiting for him with a snack cart and a tall pitcher of ice water. Cure looks at the cart longingly and sighs out, “I love you. Please marry me.”

Glade’s clipboard falls right off her hoof as every passing pony freezes in place and looks at the colt. “Your highness! I’m a married mare!” she screeches, backing away from the foal barely half her size.

A few quiet chuckles sound out down the hall, but the young alicorn doesn’t even turn his head. “You’re a peach, nurse, but I was talking to the snack tray,” he explains, rearing up and wrapping his wings and forelegs around one side of it. “Shh, you’re the only one for me,” he mumbles as he floats a biscuit into his waiting maw and moans in bliss. “Never leave me!” he soulfully cries.

Scattered laughs and wolf whistles sound out down the hall as everypony gets back to work. “Don’t mind them, they’re only jealous,” he softly explains as he runs a hoof down one of the cart’s legs. Even one of the guards assigned to him lets a laugh slip out at that, poorly covering it with a throat clear.

The green mare scowls at him while snatching her clipboard back off the ground. “The next patient is in room four,” she gruffly says. “Another set of twins, whenever you’re done getting weird with the food.”

“Oh trust me, my dear, this isn’t even a two on my weird scale,” he says between bites. He grabs the pitcher, tilts his head back, and pours its contents right down his throat, not even breathing as it disappears.

Glade watches in bewilderment as the colt dumps the entire pitcher into his gullet. “Are you okay?!” she worriedly asks while trying to figure out where all of the water could possibly fit.

Cure gives his wings a few flaps, careful not to lighten himself at the same time. The rush of wind feels great on his coat and, more importantly, helps cool him off a degree or two. “Yup, but more ice would be super next time. I’m good to go. Four, you said?”

She gives a single hesitant nod and points a hoof to the door a few down on her right.

Cure gives her a cheeky grin and a half bow before making his way to the door. He pulls it open with his magic and trots inside, somewhat surprised to find a male and female griffon off to the side and a hippogriff mare being helped onto the table. “Howdy, folks,” he calls in greeting as he kicks the door shut behind him. “Rumor has it somecreature is having a two for one today.”

“Yo!” the hippogriff mare hollers from the table.

“Cool, then I’m in the right place. You all been given a rundown on how this works?” he asks as he pans across the three parents.

Dr. Thunder looks up from the chart and gives a nod. “They’ve started explaining everything in the waiting room. They did talk to you all, right?” the bat mare asks as she looks at the griffons.

With a nod the husband gives a quick summary, repeating back the now-familiar process.

“Awesome. I just need to know how numb you want to be and whether we’re all ready to go.”

“As numb as I can be,” the mare immediately replies. “Last time it was just one and it almost split me in half.”

“Well that won’t happen today,” he assures her. “I can’t promise zero pain, but I’m fifteen for fifteen so far today. Ready, doc?”

“Good to go.”

With a nod, Cure activates his talent and immediately pauses in confusion.

<< Hey doc? >> he silently Messages. The mare leans slightly to her right and raises a single brow. << There’s a griffon chick and a hippogriff colt in her. Do I need to worry about this dude losing his marbles? >>

Dr. Thunder furrows her brow and, rather than directly answer, simply shakes her head no and motions for him to proceed.

“Alright, breaking the first sac. The colt’s an eager one, so he’s coming first,” he announces.

“So… how are you feeling?” Celestia slowly asks.

“Kinda appreciating the carriage this time, boss,” Cure readily confesses, laid out on his back on the opposite bench. “I got a feeling I’m gonna put away more at dinner than you are tonight.”

“Are you implying something, young colt?” she teases.

“Perish the thought, milady. You’re the very image of fitness, grace, and beauty,” he answers in a posh Trottingham accent. An approving nod is his only answer. “How was your day? Did you get to see all the foals… and chicks, cubs, whatever’s?”

“I did!” she nods with a beaming smile. “They were so adorable! I can’t begin to tell you how tempting…” she trails off. Cure feels his gut twist when he catches the sight quiver of her lip as she turns towards the window.

A moment pass in silence before she slowly takes a deep breath and lets it out. “You did absolutely wonderfully today, Cure. I’m sure your parents will be very proud when they hear about it tonight.”

“Oh, didn’t know you were messaging them nightly.”

“They didn’t ask me to, but given your age I feel it’s appropriate to do so.”

“Fair. How much do those candles cost anyhow?” he asks, rolling on his side to face her.

She hums in thought for a moment before answering. “It’s difficult to say, exactly. The contract with the dragon lord covers the entire network. They don’t typically use bits, so we pay in gold and gems.”

“Ah. So pegging a single candle’s cost is kinda hard?”

“Correct. I’m sure Chancellor Sheets could tell me, but off the top of my head I would guess at least ten thousand bits.”

“Per year?”

Celestia shakes her head no. “They will burn for several years if used sparingly. The magic can be extinguished more quickly, but it would take a significant volume of correspondence to do so.”

“Ah. A few grand per year doesn’t seem so bad. I’m surprised businesses don’t use them for important correspondence.”

She shrugs in response, saying, “They would have to be ignited by a different dragon than the ones ours are maintained by. I do not know how many dragons are capable of using their breath as such, but my understanding is that the ability is exceedingly rare. Perhaps a large enough company could employ a dragon to maintain such a network, but it would be costly and be of little benefit to most businesses.”

While Cure doesn’t necessarily agree, he suspects it likely that nopony has considered trying to hire a dragon for that specifically. It’s something he can keep in mind at some point in the future if he ever does run some kind of large, nationwide business, but isn’t terribly useful at the moment.

“So… I learned something new today. A few things.” She gives him her full attention. “I was under the mistaken impression that hippogriffs could only have a pony or a griffon, depending on their mate.”

“Ah. That is a common misconception.” The princess adopts a lecturing pose and explains, “Hippogriff mares can have ponies, griffons, or another hippogriff. It will depend on her mate. She cannot birth a pony if the sire is a griffon, for example, and the opposite is true as well.

“What a hippogriff is able to sire, however, depends on their heritage; specifically, what were the sexes and species of their parents or potentially grand or great grandparents. If his sire was a griffon then he will pass that male griffon heritage on to any male offspring. If his dam was a griffon then, again, the only griffon heritage he can pass on would be the female side.”

“So it depends on the X or Y chromosomes,” he guesses. “And if two hippogriffs have children the stallion can only have male ponies and female griffons if his sire was a pony, right?”

“Normally, yes. There is some merging of the griffon and pony halves over time. Hippogriffs with earth pony heritage tend to be bigger and stronger. Foals from pegasi tend to have larger wings, but shorter stature. Unicorns seem to almost be an average of the other two. That typically only holds true for a few generations.

“After a few generations of intraspecies mating it is possible for hippogriffs to begin producing hippogriff foals exclusively. Like with zebra blended families, it usually takes three generations before there’s enough mingling of our races for it to occur. As a result, some hippogriff families are extremely selective about who their foals, particularly their colts, are allowed to marry.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen a half zebra, half pony foal. Or really, a half pony anything, for that matter.”

“You very rarely will. Most species, including our own, rarely have the opportunity to meet with other species, even in border cities. Then, of course, there's the issue of attraction," she offers with a shrug. "The zebra population is also small and quite insular. You almost never will, but if you ever see a pony with stripes there’s a good chance that is why. I, at one point, was briefly in a relationship with a pegasus stallion who’s sire was a zebra,” she fondly reminisces.

“Apex had one of the most gorgeous coats you can imagine. The striped pattern that decorated his wings was so unique,” she sighs. “Every morning I would pin him down and,” Cure’s brows shoot up, “preen his beautiful wings while he pretended to object.” Typical brow altitude resumes. “He thought I was incinerating his discarded feathers, but I still have a couple of the primaries he lost while we were together.”

Celestia sighs deeply as she continues, “Sadly, politics made it difficult. His sire was not an Equestrian citizen and, eventually, insisted his family return to his home. I understand Apex was quite well received in Zebrica, being one of the very few creatures that could fly. It took a few generations, but eventually his descendants stopped being born with wings,” she softly finishes.

“That sucks,” Cure bluntly comments. “I’m not tryin to sound like a jerk here, so don’t take this the wrong way, but you’d think his sire would’a been more interested in havin his son be in a relationship with the friggin High Princess of Equestria. I’m guessin there’s more to the story… Nobles? International pressure?”

Celestia pauses for a moment in consideration, inadvertently giving Cure’s brain the time it needs to catch up to his mouth. He holds up a hoof and quickly apologizes, “Sorry, princess, I didn’t mean ta toss my snout inta yer private business like that. I mean, if you wanna talk then I’m all ears, but I don’t want to seem rude or whatever. Anything you tell me stays between us, I promise.”

“It is okay, Cure. I am the one that brought it up, after all. For now, I will simply say that there were other issues, including concerns raised by the nobility. It is ironic; for most, securing alliances with blood is the norm, yet I cannot.”

Thankfully Cure’s brain does work fast enough this time before he can ask why. It’s clearly an immensely sore subject for the princess and, while he would be fascinated to just listen to her talk about her life for literal hours, there’s no urgent need for her to spill everything right this moment.

“Well I brought up the whole hippogriff baby thing ‘cause I thought I was gonna witness a fight earlier. I’m sure you saw the hippogriff colt and griffon chick twins this morning?”

She eagerly nods, gushing about the two. “Their soft little nubby talons are so adorable when they’re born! The colt stuck one right into his dam’s nare when she went to nuzzle him. He rolled right onto his back and just latched onto her beak!” she finishes with a fond laugh.

“Heh. Cute. Well when I first saw that colt in his dam I thought the sire was gonna go bonkers. I figured she musta cheated with another hippogriff or something weird was going on. I had asked my sire about that some months ago. He mentioned the last war.”

A look of disgust crosses her features. “Ah. His mistake is understandable then. For several decades afterwards there was a great deal of animosity between our nations, and even our species. As a result, every one of the hippogriff foals born from that… incident distanced themselves from their griffon heritage. Understandable, given the circumstances.

“Since they were all the product of griffon sires, and because of the lower likelihood of birthing a colt, nearly every one ended up having pony fillies instead of hippogriff colts. There were a few, of course, but history tends to forget. It’s possible that a few of those family lines still continue amongst the hippogriffs of Cloudsdale, but I do not know.”

“Okay… that makes sense. And hippogriffs can’t get cutie marks, right? I noticed Nurse Sonic didn’t have one.”

“They cannot. Nurse Sonic is the half unicorn stallion?”

“I assumed his dam was a unicorn,” he answers with a nod.

“I believe so. I would also guess his sire is a hippogriff. I have only seen maybe a half dozen hippogriffs with horns, ever. Even with a unicorn dam they do not typically have one. I am fairly certain it is not functional.”

“So it’s like a pegacorn’s would be?”

“I can only guess, but more than likely yes. It begs the question; did he volunteer specifically in the hopes of meeting you, or is it merely coincidence. I would assume he could simply make the trip to Baltimare to seek treatment if it’s the former.”

“Maybe not. I haven’t been doing that every weekend, so I think there’s a wait list; one I’ll be clearing out ASAP starting next month. He didn’t say anything to me today, but it was pretty busy anyhow.”

“True. I believe if you offered to help him he may be elated. You’ll want to be careful how you broach the subject, though.”

“No doubt. I’ll try to find a chance to talk to him tomorrow. And don’t worry, I’ll be as tactful as I can about it. If he wants me to… I don’t wanna say fix ‘cause that implies somethin’s broken, but it would be best to do that before the season really gets goin.”

“It would,” she agrees.

“We don’t want him getting distracted, after all.”

“I suppose if he’s not accustomed to his aura,” she suggests. “It would depend to what extent his horn is disabled right now.”

“Well I just know how us stallions are. Give us something new and we just gotta play with it.”

“Many mares are little better,” she agrees with a small nod.

“Yeah, I suppose you’re right. Suddenly having a horn that works when it hasn’t for years could confuse anypony. I’m glad I’ll never have to worry about that.”

“Indeed, I’ve never experienced any problem with mine in all my centuries. I wouldn’t anticipate yours to be any different. I will warn you, the size does cause some complications.”

“I bet.” He looks up and comments, “When it gets that big it probably gets in the way all of the time.”

“Like you wouldn’t believe!” she says with a laugh. “I couldn’t tell you how many doorframes I hit when I was still growing.”

“I bet that didn’t feel good.”

“It wasn’t as painful as it would have been before my ascension, but it certainly was embarrassing. Thank the stars for the Mending spell.”

“I haven’t bashed mine on too many things, thankfully. I won’t be tall enough for it to be a constant issue for a while, if ever, I suppose. I’ll admit, I have grown mine enormous a couple of times, but only when I was alone in my bedroom.”

“You have?”

He nods.

“Why?”

He shrugs indifferently and explains, “Eh, had to get a job done and a bigger, more powerful horn was more convenient.”

“I see. So you were able to accomplish your task?”

“Oh, absolutely. I found I had to be a lot more careful and I did get some grief from the mare that got caught up in the moment, but she still appreciated how little work was required on her part thanks to the larger unit.”

Celestia takes a second to ponder that statement before hesitantly saying, “I hope she was not harmed…”

“Nope. Once I untied her and dispelled the Reduce she was perfectly fine. I helped her back on her hooves with levitate, then afterwards we had lunch together. It was nice.”

Celestia eyes the colt for a long minute in consideration. Cure gives her an innocent smile and waits patiently.

“Cure?” she calls with a light glare.

“Princess?”

“I know you’re atypical for an eight year old foal…”

Nodding along he points out, “I’m atypical by a lot of standards, boss.”

“... but sometimes I feel like you like to occasionally push past what is considered appropriate, even with your… circumstances.”

“Haven’t a clue what yer referring to, boss.”

“Really?” she forcefully inquires.

He tilts his head in faux confusion. “What are you talking about, exactly?”

“What are you talking about, exactly?” she immediately returns.

He spreads his forelegs wide and, as if it could be the only possible answer, tells her, “Moving, of course!”

“Moving?”

“Yeah. I grew a big horn for the larger aura so I could reach the whole house. First I Reduced all of our furniture, then floated it all outside into a wagon and secured it with straps. Title and I give each other a hard time so I hit her too. She was raisin a fuss after I strapped her down so I floated her back out before she broke something flailin around. Amy finished makin lunch while I was working, so we ate afterwards. Why? What were you expecting?”

“... Nothing.”

He smirks victoriously.

She huffs in annoyance.

The carriage rolls on in silence for a moment.

She gives the colt a long look before hesitantly starting, “Cure… I was wondering if you would be willing to discuss some things that were brought up during your previous visit. If you would prefer your parents’ presence or you’re overly tired there is no urgency, but…” she trails off at his nod.

“Sure thing. There’s a lot of stuff to cover and, while most of it can wait, not all of it needs to. Besides, the whole vague prophecy trope I’ve seen used in a lot of stories is lame as fudge, so yeah. It’s like… what’s the freaking point of telling somepony something if you’re going to be all confusing and misleading? Either be specific and concise or shut the fudge up and write that crap down.”

“I do not think most recipients of such things typically get to be picky about the circumstances of their delivery.”

“Yeah, I guess you are pretty lucky to have me.”

“I could not agree more,” she wholeheartedly agrees.

He groans and rolls his eyes in an exaggerated motion, getting his head, neck, and entire front half in on the act. “Damnit, princess. I told ya yesterday, that’s not how this,” he waves between them, “is supposed to work. It’s banter, ya know? Yer not supposed to bust out all that genuine sappiness.”

“Oh yes! Sorry, Cure, it slipped my mind.” She furrows her brow in thought. “You have your moments. Is that better?”

He mutters under his breath in disappointment and rubs at his temples. “Forget it,” he says, lazily flailing his hooves, “the moment’s over.”

She sighs and nods in acceptance. “I’ll do better next time.”

“Good. So… our discussion. Do you have a secure room somewhere?”

“I have one ready,” she confirms. “It was installed quite a while ago specifically for confidential discussions like this.”

“Sounds like a plan, boss. After dinner?”

“After dinner,” she agrees.

Author's Note

So, a few things. I had built out an okay buffer, but then thought, "Oh I need to add some things here," then got absolutely stuck in a way I don't think I have yet while writing this story. There have been other contributors to the problem, but long story short I have next week's chapter done and bits and pieces of the next few, but they all need a lot of work. That next week's chapter sits at over 18k didn't help.

Bottom line - I'll try to maintain the rate until my planned hiatus but I may also have to put a hold on the story earlier than I'd like to build up my buffer again. At the very least I'll come in and comment if plans need to change, so that "he's gonna disappear!" fear can be dismissed. If I really get stuck then we may just skip ahead a little to the day before/of and go from there. I do have most of that written, after all, it just needs another pass or two to be ready.

So - About this chapter. The whole Hippogriff thing was semi-planned. More will be discussed in the next chapter, obviously, though it's just one of the several topics in the winding, meandering discussion coming up.

Thanks for reading, all. Enjoy!