Monday, July 13th, 909 AB (15 days later)
Just after sunrise

“Morning, son,” Deed quietly whispers, nuzzling into his oldest’s mane. “Yer dam’s got yer breakfast just about ready, so go get yerself cleaned up.”

Carefully folding his wings, Cure sits up and leans forward against his sire’s chest while doing his best not to disturb the fillies. He wraps the dark stallion and a hug, nuzzling against the much larger neck as he lets out a yawning sigh. “Morning, pa. Love you.”

“Love you too, champ. Now get moving ‘fore ya wake the girls. Big day ‘n all that.”

With one last bump of his snout in his son’s mane Deed steps away from the bed. The stallion walks almost silently out the door; a possibility only thanks to his effective mass being reduced drastically. Cure lifts up to hover, moves his sleeping sisters closer into his vacated warm spot, grabs the plain saddlebag he’d made for his royal adornments, and gently closes the door behind himself. A pitstop later he makes his way downstairs, unsurprised to find Savvy hop-jumping around her cheering dam in the nursery room just opposite the stairs.

Title seems to be on foal duty while Vines gets the food ready. While Savvy eagerly climbs on anything and everything just to glide back down a moment later, her dam is keeping a protective foreleg over the twins nursing.

“’Mornin, momma. How’s the prettiest pair’a pink ponies in the neighborhood today?” he asks, wrapping her side and neck in a hug.

“’Morning, babe. In a word, energetic. At least one of us is. She’ll be flyin in no time, maker help me. We’ve already eaten, so don’t wait on our account.” She turns just in time to catch the babbling filly, separating from Cure and pinning the smaller foal between her forelegs for a round of aggressive nuzzles and belly noms.

Savvy shrieks in laughter, somehow wiggling free after a moment and hops up, wrapping her forelegs around Cure’s neck. “Coo! Coo, Coo, Coo!” The enthusiastic butchering of his name is just too adorable, but the attention of the energetic filly wanes after he returns the hug and plants a sloppy kiss on her cheek. He gives each twin a small snout bump in their crown, careful not to interfere with their breakfast while he checks them over. Finding they’re good to go for a while, he leaves the four behind on his way to the dining room by the kitchen.

“Mornin, dam!” he calls out, trotting up to her side for a hug. A green foreleg wraps around his back, squeezing him tight. “Love you. Pancakes?”

“Mmhmm. Love you too, sweetheart. Your coffee’s ready,” she says, nodding towards the full carafe.

A large mug is poured and some sugar is added in as he hops up on his booster across from his sire to Amethyst’s right and gets ready to dig in.

The dark mare reaches over to poke his side asking, “Think yer ready, colt?”

“Dunno. I think these first few weeks will be nuts. Or maybe not if the other Health Authorities haven’t had time to get everything sorted out.” He pauses to shoot his dam a grateful smile when she drops a couple flapjacks in front of him.

“Got ‘nuf batter for another, V?”

“There’s plenty left, Amy.”

“Lemon already take off?”

“Sure did, sport. She said ta wish ya luck too. Also said ta remind ya ‘bout Wind’s first few customers this afternoon. Said the girl was just ‘bout dancin when she dropped off the appointment slips.”

“I bet. From the looks of things she’s gonna be makin some good bits for a teenager. No surprise she’s fillin my calendar given the makeover I gave her. From what Drift said she probably won’t last the month at City Hall, and Lightbright or whatever her dude’s name is might be down a fillyfriend here soon. Twenty bits says she’ll pounce on me for her payout before I make it two steps away from the store today.”

Vines drops another pancake on his stack and one in front of Amethyst as she asks, “Why would she leave her coltfriend, honey?”

“She once told me she wants her own stallion. I mean… have you seen her?! I don’t think she’ll be lonely for long.”

“Somethin tells me she don’t mind sharin if the colt’s worth it,” his sire observes, shooting the young alicorn a knowing look.

“The whole sharing thing is weird enough, pa. I can’t wrap my head around how siblings would share a dude. That seems… kinda gross, honestly.”

“Happens sometimes, son. Maybe not much longer once yer plants get approved, but,” he trails off with a shrug. “Lotsa mares think a good stallion’s worth it.”

“Hey V, didn’t you ‘n Mossy both have tha hots for the same stallion once?”

Cure glances to his left, surprised to find the green mare blushing while she puts the pans in the sink. The topic of her family is brought up so seldomly that he wasn’t even sure if she had siblings. It would be very strange for an earth pony farming family not to have multiple foals, but he’s never happened upon anypony that shares a similar enough scent he suspected they’re related.

“I was only a filly! I lost interest in him before I was even twelve! Besides,” she turns and approaches Deed’s right, nuzzling up into his mane and biting at the tip of his left ear, “I found a much better stallion than he could ever be.”

“Damn right ya did, babe!”

Cure watches on fondly as his sire sets his coffee and paper down, turns, and wraps his dam in a hug, kissing up and down her cheek and growling as he bites at the base of her ear. “Get a room, you two. Or wait five minutes ‘till I head out.” He glances down at the table and reconsiders. “No… Definitely get a room, or use Sterilize like a billion times. I will ground you both if I smell anything funky when I get home for dinner!”

Despite the tease, Cure couldn’t be happier to see his parents being playful together. Memories of Cyndi unexpectedly leaping on Ed surface as Deed and Vines wrap each other in a neck hug and sigh into the other’s mane, happy to rub coats with their beloved. A smile stretches across his face as he finishes off the last bite of his pancakes and knocks back the little coffee left in his mug. He hops down and wraps Amethyst in a hug, nuzzling into the purple mare so she doesn’t feel left out by his parents’ affectionate display. “Love you, ma.”

“Love you too, squirt. Good luck,” she calls, waving as he gives each parent a quick trot-by nuzzle on the way to the back door.

He pauses by the door and adopts his fuzzy brown pegasus disguise, then calls back, “I’ll let ya know how it’s goin when I get a free moment. Love you, see y’all later!” The shutting of the door muffles the shouts back. With a quick canter, the colt lightens himself and leaps into the air, climbing in a vertical loop before righting himself and turning to the east. A familiar weatherpony catches his eye, so he shouts a greeting to Glacial’s sire as he passes by.

It takes the light gray stallion a second to realize who the pegasus shouting for him is, but he finishes pushing his cloud into place and zips over to the colt once he does. He takes up position to Cure’s left as the two fly together towards the cloud district. “Today’s the big day, isn’t it? They had an article in the papers and everything.”

“Ugh. I’m hopin it’s not a complete disaster, but… well, gotta start at some point, right?”

Rain bobs his head in agreement, waving a hoof dismissively. “Ehh, I bet it won’t be that bad. I gotta get back to it, Cure, but good luck, alright son?”

“Thanks, Mr. Rain! Have a good one!”

With a final departing smile the stallion veers off to the north, circling back to his work as Cure continues on, picking up speed on his way to Baltimare. The skies are about as busy as they get between Golden Hills and the city; with the early shift starting soon nearly every pegasus and bat pony commuter is making their way east. The vast majority are quite a bit older than the colt, but there’s no shortage of foals flying with their dam or sire on the way to daycare either.

Cure notices a lot of ponies are chatting amicably; far more than he would expect so early on a Monday morning. He figures these folks must see each other every day on their commute and, if it weren’t for their more sedate pace, he would probably form up into the impromptu flock they’re all traveling as.

A decent number, even if far fewer, ponies are headed the other direction as well. The westbound flock has a lot more bats in it, probably finished with their overnight shift and heading home for the day. They’re not moving quite as quickly, both because of the eastward wind and the fatigue from getting through a work day.

Called out greetings are traded between the groups as they pass, though by then Cure’s pulled quite a distance ahead of the flock.

It occurs to him that, at some point, somepony is going to notice a brown pegasus colt is suddenly part of the commuting group. It could be something as simple as a parent keeping an eye out for somepony to introduce a daughter to, or perhaps somepony will be smart enough to realize that said colt always shows up the same days the new prince works at the hospital.

A quick, subtle headcount shows that only two other colts of his approximate age are in the eastward group, and both have the far slimmer pegasus build. Simply changing his colors some days will, if anything, draw more attention to himself. Flying either far higher or closer to the ground would likely have the same effect since pegasus eyes are sharp enough that he wouldn’t easily evade detection.

The only viable solution would be to use one of his mid-high crystals to cast a more powerful form of Invisibility than what he typically uses. It’ll force him to be more aware of his surroundings, but since he’ll be able to fly in full alicorn mode the availability of his horn’s aura should make that more feasible, especially if he flies higher than pegasi typically do to avoid their normal lanes. He makes a note to do exactly that when he has magic to spare at some point today.

With a dip and slight twist of his left wing he pulls himself to the north while decreasing his altitude. Once he’s on target for the park near the zoo he slows and smooths his descent by arcing his wings slightly up and spreading the feathers wide to catch more air. A couple light flaps has him landing at a canter’s pace and, after he double checks to ensure nopony is looking, he ducks under a tree by some bushes and finishes his Serpentus disguise.

Crown, regalia, shoes, and glimmering partial flight suit in place, he slings his bag back on, adding a copy of his mark to at the same time and altering its colors. Wings spread, the colt lightens himself and looks up into the sky far away from air traffic.

The bright flash of his Teleport draws attention from nearly every flier in the area. It only takes him a moment to orient himself, honing in on the hospital to the south as a squad of pegasi turn to intercept him. He meets the lead mare’s eyes and motions with his head towards the hospital.

Quick on the uptake, she gives him a hoof salute and the squad forms up around him as he picks up speed. “Good morning, your highness!”

“‘Mornin, corporal. Thanks for the escort.”

“Yes sir!”

A moment’s flight brings the group into visual range of the hospital, and Cure can feel the dread growing when he sees what awaits him. “I don’t suppose I could talk you into trading jobs with me for the day, could I?”

“Afraid not, sir. I recommend we use the roof entrance.”

“Ehh… normally, I would, but we can’t deny the public, or the camera ponies, their prince on his first day, can we?”

She looks over her withers, not bothering to hide the cringe. “If you say so, sir. It looks like Sgt. Wavecrest is clearing out a landing zone for you, at least.”

Cure follows her pointed hoof and, sure enough, there is a blue unicorn mare beside the base of the steps with a few chevrons on her shoulders barking out orders to her guards.

Cure looks over the crowd as they approach, dividing the plaza into eight sections and estimating how many ponies are in each one. Though nowhere near as bad as it could be, he figures there has to be somewhere around eight hundred ponies, griffons, hippogriffs, zebras, minotaurs, cows, donkeys, and other creatures gathered outside the hospital, filling the plaza and several surrounding streets.

Fortunately it seems like quite a large number are there just to gawk or, based on their cameras or articles of clothing, report on the spectacle. Only a third of the crowd seems to be making any attempt to actually get to the hospital, and Cure can already see the front of the herd slowly being organized into a swerving line by the guards and hospital staff that have taken to the field.

Ages run the gamut from parents with newborns clear up to the elderly and, to his relief, the sergeant seems to be instructing his squad to prioritize them as best they can. A griffon in Equestrian armor is a pretty uncommon sight, so seeing a pair of them out in the field together instantly catches his attention. There’s bigger fish to fry, though, so he dismisses the rarity as he comes in for a landing in the cleared space.

His escort sticks around, waiting either for a dismissal or, more likely, to get the sergeant’s permission to help out. The sergeant straightens up and offers a quick salute which is promptly returned by the colt. “How bad is it, sarge?”

“Not gonna lie, sir. It’s a right mess,” she starts, glancing up as a three-pony squad in heavy armor steps out the front doors, “but I’ve got two more squads on the way to lend a hoof, so we’ll have it all straightened out lickety-split. If you want to head on in, sir, I think the admin team have a plan put together and the boss doc is waiting for ya. And, of course, Sgt. Blackhoof’s squad is here from Meadow as your detail for the day.”

“Awesome. Good work, sergeant,” he calls, giving the mare a respectful nod and approaching the ponies that’ll be shadowing him today. “Sgt. Blackhoof? Is that your real name or did you have to whoop somepony to earn that one?” he asks, reaching out to bump the solid black earth pony’s hoof in greeting.

The jest gets a smirk from the stallion who offers a helpless shrug. “Dam always says I was a kicker if that counts, sir.”

“Works for me. Hopefully that’s not a skill set you’ll get to utilize today. Looks like a long one, so I better get started.” With a beckoning wave of his wing, Cure leads the group into the hospital, eyes landing on Dr. Care off to the side of the main reception desk.

The green mare, along with several of her colleagues, is busy directing staff to deal with the much smaller crowd inside the lobby, but she doesn’t miss when the gold clad colt walks in the front door and she quickly waves him over. As he gets close she motions with her head for him to follow away from the lobby as she starts explaining, “Glad you’re here early, highness.

“We have more stand-by staff on the way in, but for now we’re trying to get everypony’s information and figure out if any of them are legitimate emergencies. We only had four referrals from other RHA’s scheduled today, so all those out there,” she jerks her head back, “are walk-ins.”

He gives her an “Okay” so she knows he’s following along.

“We have a few ponies in the ICU that need to be prioritized before we deal with them, then the mob, so we’re headed that way right now.” She glances back to his escort and adds, “Sorry, sarge, but there won’t be enough space for you in the patient rooms.”

“That’s fine. Hallway’s good enough.”

“Perfect. While you’re helping the ICU patients we’ll be getting everything organized. We have a room right up off the lobby set aside for ya. I know you work fast, so the plan is to have them come in, you do your thing, we get ‘em out of your mane, and we’ll move on to the next patient.

“Most ponies don’t go to the hospital alone, so don’t let the number worry you. There’s probably only a hundred or so patients out there, and if more than a dozen have anything seriously wrong I would be amazed. Triage is the word of the day. Once we identify some high priority patients and figure out what everypony’s here for we’ll be better able to get everypony taken care of.”

The mare stops rather suddenly and turns to face Cure, going down to her barrel so she’s at eye level. “Do not burn yourself out, okay?”

“Umm… okay?”

“I’m serious, highness. When you need a moment, speak up. If you need a snack or a drink, say something. Don’t work until you’re about to drop, and, if you’re feeling stressed, take a break. We have refreshments on hoof if you need anything, okay?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She stares into his eyes for a second, then nods in acceptance. “Good. The only truly unacceptable outcome for the day is you feeling so overwhelmed you don’t want to come back. Nopony out there is going to die, okay? At least, not today they aren’t. Got me?”

“You bet, chief.”

“Great!” She stands, turns, and resumes her trot as she continues, “Just remember, you can’t be everywhere or do everything. Help everypony you can today, come to the cafeteria and we’ll get ya fed ‘n watered, then you go do what you have to do to relax and we’ll do it all over again on Wednesday. I figure in a week or two the insanity will die down and you’ll get to see what a normal day is like.

“The ICU is right through these doors,” she says, motioning past a desk with some guards and nurses working. “Dr. Nala,” she nods in greeting to an approaching zebra, “is the primary attending physician for the ICU this morning. She will be your supervisor until the two of you… well, do what you can, I suppose.”

“It is a pleasure to meet you, your highness.” The mare, Dr. Nala, seems to be in her late twenties, though Cure can admit to himself that he’s had little enough exposure to their culture to be able to easily peg approximate ages. She speaks with a slight accent he would expect from a native Equestrian that grew up in a foreign speaking household.

Her “it is” sounds more like “eet ease” and the emphasis is more heavily placed on “sure” and “ness,” which she pronounced “highnees” more than “highniss.” There is also a slight rolling of her R’s that he’s not encountered thus far on Equus.

All and all, he finds her voice damn sexy; much huskier and deeper than most mares, aside from Amethyst, and with a hint of exotic different-ness that strikes a chord with the colt for some reason.

Despite that, the first involuntary thought that comes to mind is that this mare is here as some kind of spy or agent. Consciously, he is aware how unlikely and unfair that thought is, but it still surfaces on its own regardless. The very notion is absolutely ridiculous for a plethora of reasons. Celestia’s agents would definitely have done some kind of background check on everypony in the hospital, likely far beyond what the hospital and local RHA would have during her onboarding.

She’s probably been a doctor for over a decade, and chose to live here instead of literally anywhere else even though such an experienced physician would be welcomed anywhere, especially since she’s good enough to run a major metropolitan area’s ICU.

Cure can’t help but feel a little disgusted with himself over the biased thoughts and, with more effort than he would like to admit, powers through them to act like the professional that the current situation calls for. The two trade a hoofbump as he responds to her greeting, “The pleasure is all mine, doctor. Show me what needs done and how you’d like to see it accomplished and, unless it’s packed in there, you should have yourself an empty ward soon enough.”

“That would bee fantasteek!” she exclaims, motioning to a Cleaning crystal by the door. Dr. Care excuses herself to go help the front out while Cure and his entourage head in to get started.

What greets the colt is a setup similar to the maternity wards he’d been working in the month prior. Ten moderately sized rooms line the outside wall, three to his left and right and another four along the back. The central area houses a collection of nursing stations, supply rooms, bathrooms, equipment storage areas, and all the other necessities to make the place work.

Dr. Nala walks at a quick pace, forcing Cure into a half-canter to keep up. “Mr. Net arrived a few hours ago with his wife. She said he was very disoriented and fell when he got up to go to the bathroom early in the morning.” She stops before the pulled curtain and calls out, “Hello! May we come in?”

A light green elderly unicorn mare peeks out, her eyes passing right by the zebra and landing on the young alicorn. She bursts out in body-wracking sobs and walks towards him, falling on her barrel as she embraces the colt and squeezes him to her chest. “Thank the maker you’re here! Please!” she shouts, squeezing him tight, “Please help my Bulgie! Please, I’m begging you!” she cries, thoroughly soaking his mane with her tears.

A wide-eyed look over his withers shows every bit as much bewildered shock on the three protectors as he feels. Apparently Guard training is somewhat lacking in protocol when it comes to distressed wives begging for somepony to save their husband. They all look like they want to intervene, but have no idea how to save the colt from the embrace without hurting the frail mare.

Dr. Nala is quick to lend a hoof, gently but firmly prying the elder’s hooves far enough away to free the colt. “You must let him work, Missus Tidepool! He cannot examine your husband if he cannot even get in the room!”

The pleas of the doctor fall on deaf ears, and she soon finds herself wrapped in a hug instead, her forelegs full of hysterically sobbing unicorn. She waves over the pegasus specialist who, after giving her sergeant a pleading look, steps in to comfort the distraught wife, freeing the doctor in the process.

Dr. Nala motions for Cure to follow and ducks into the room. They find an elderly graying yellow unicorn stallion that he suspects, based on her description of his symptoms, has suffered a stroke. He is laying on his right side with a mask on his muzzle, intubated and unconscious. Hospital beds in Equestria are far lower to the ground; an ergonomic necessity for quadrupeds to be able to easily reach without balancing on hind legs.

“He will likely live, and may recover some but…”

“Who knows what kind of a life he’ll have,” Cure agrees, finishing her thought.

“Indeed. He is full revive.” She gives the colt a hopeful look. “I know not the limits of your capabilities. Is this something within your power to address?”

A quick scan reveals exactly what he expected, along with the plaque buildup associated with early Alzheimer’s, or “senile dementia” as it is called in this world’s medical books. “I can fix everything wrong with him, but the memories that have been lost may not come back.”

Dr. Nala barely has to consider it. She nods and tells him, “I authorize you to do what you can.”

“Can we get his vent removed? I’ve got him now. He’s not going anywhere. Just ease it out slowly and I’ll take care of the damage.”

Another round of sobs and repeated “thank the maker!” sounds out as the wife pulls the curtain open and squeezes past the doctor, climbing half on the bed and burying her face in her husband’s graying mane.

Dr. Nala moves around the bed, looking at Cure for confirmation. Once he nods she adjusts the machine and reaches for a drawer.

“No need for a cath, doc. I’ll deal with the mess. Ease the tube out and he’ll be fine.”

“Very well.” With utmost care, she removes the straps on the mask holding the tube in place, disconnects the tube from the machine, checks the patient’s vitals and, once she’s sure he’s still breathing, slowly begins withdrawing the tube from his throat and mouth.

“Alright, I’ve still got him. I’m going to let him wake up on his own. He’s gonna be confused until he realizes where he is, Mrs. Tidepool. You heard me about the memories, right?”

An understanding hum in affirmation sounds out as she nods into the stallion’s mane.

“Okay. They may come back somewhat. They may not. All the memory problems should be a thing of the past moving forward, though. He’ll be like he was forty years ago.”

Another round of body-wracking sobs erupts from her as Cure finishes his work. “All done. I fixed a few other things while I was at it. He bruised some ribs when he fell and his hips weren’t doing the best. Neither were his eyes. While ya got me, would you like a checkup too, ma’am? I don’t want to fix him all up then have you droppin in for a visit next week, ya know? We wouldn’t want to put either of ya through that. Again.”

With the mare’s blessing, Cure takes a few minutes to fix up the most critical and inconveniencing issues plaguing her. Dr. Nala does another check of the stallion’s vitals, relieved to see that everything seems stable. They turn down the light crystals and draw the curtain closed, leaving behind the couple in an adorable sleeping embrace.

They barely step out when the still drenched specialist softly asks, “Is he okay?”

“It would seem so,” the doctor answers. “An incredible ability, you have,” she notes, turning to face the young alicorn. “I find myself envious, yet the prospect of having such a power would terrify me to no end.”

Unsure how to respond, Cure slowly nods in agreement. “It’s not always easy, but it has its moments. The hugs are nice,” he bashfully admits. “Griffon and hippogriff hugs are the best, by the way. The princess is a pretty good hugger too, but she’s had lotsa practice, plus she’s really warm. I’m not sure about zebra hugs,” he says, turning to avoid the doctor’s gaze.

“Until proven otherwise I suppose I’ll just have to assume they’re nowhere near as good as griffon hugs. A shame I have no way of knowing,” he sadly finishes, finally turning to look up at the amused doctor. “So, who’s next?”

A green hoof settles lightly on the colt’s withers as he steps out of the room. He looks up to meet Dr. Care’s concerned eyes as she softly asks, “How are ya holding up?”

“Gonna be honest here… that was a lot rougher than I’d expected from what ya said.” As the two start down the hallway he continues, “Ya know, I’ve heard maker-knows-how-many jokes or whatever about poop, pooping, or what have you, but actually seein somepony that’s had to live with incontinence for a decade? It kinda saps all the funny away.”

Sighing wearily, the mare can only nod in agreement. “Well at least he’s all fixed up now. The therapy suggestion was probably a good idea.”

“Yeah. I’m kinda surprised the dude was able to power through the anxiety enough to come, given the crowds. Next patient is in two-oh-four?”

“Mmhmm. Then you are taking a break before getting started on the mob out front. They’ve whittled it down quite a bit, so it won’t be too bad. Word is only a few are somewhat urgent, and anypony that you're not seeing is being helped by the staff.” As the pair approach the door Dr. Care calls for Cure to wait a minute. “This one isn’t gonna be any easier.”

He turns and gives her his full attention as the three guards stop a respectful distance behind. She dips her muzzle to speak quietly by his ear, pausing and giving a grateful nod when he activates a Sound Bubble. “She’s twenty years old. She was in a fire when she was a foal… they got her out, but not before she got burned pretty badly.”

Cure does his best to suppress his wince. “Maker above, doc…” he counts off, tapping a hoof on the floor with each patient, “a stroke patient and his hysterical wife, a walkin heart attack, a blind foal, a dude with… what’d you call it?”

“Shaking palsy.”

“Right. That horror show,” he nods with a shudder. “And now a friggin burn victim? Yer not exactly easing me into it are ya? I’d make a quip about a trial by fire, but now I feel like a prick for even thinkin it!”

She sighs, laying on her barrel and gently wraps her forelegs around the foal. “It’s not an easy job, Cure. Being who you are and having the ability you do… you’re gonna see more awful things in an average day than most doctors see in weeks. For a while, at least.” She nuzzles into his mane behind his horn, reassuring him, “It’ll get better at some point, okay?”

“Yeah…” he sighs, leaning into the embrace. “I hope so. I can deal, but damn. Thank the stars it was me and not somepony else that ended up with this. Most foals -”

“We know you’re not ‘most foals,’ Cure. We wouldn’t have agreed to this much if we didn’t know you’re strong enough. You proved that and then some back in January, not to mention when you earned these,” she says, carefully poking at his wing. “If it gets to be too much, say the word. We’ll dial it back a little until you’re more comfortable.”

He nods into the side of her neck and lets out another sigh. “Alright, doc. Let’s get this pony taken care of.”

Monday, July 13th, 909 AB (Approx 5 hours later)
Above Lemon Sweet’s Sugar Emporium

“Alright, and here’s the before and after,” he says, projecting an Illusion of the pre and post procedure wings.

The young mare bounces in place, squealing in excitement and clapping her forehooves. Knowing what’s coming, he barely manages to look surprised before she pounces on him and wraps him in a hug. “I can’t wait to see my coltfriend’s face! Look, dam!” she shouts, releasing the disguised alicorn and posing, chest puffed out and wings spread wide.

“They’re absolutely gorgeous, honey!” Cure can’t help but agree. The girl has a beautiful sapphire coat and a brilliant white mane. With her enlarged wingspan and the alternating snow white feathers she’ll be turning heads everywhere she goes.

“I bet the lucky fella won’t know what hit ‘em,” Cure remarks.

The daughter rotates her left wing forward and gently runs a pastern down the inside, marveling at the size, fullness, and eye-catching pattern. Dam is no less awed; she approaches and runs her cheek against the pillowy appendages, gasping at the sensation. “So soft, too! How?!”

“No big secret, there, ma’am. They’re well oiled and preened to, and I mean this literally, perfection.” Nodding to the younger, he adds, “You’ll need to take good care of the lil ladies to keep them looking that way, so no skimping on your wingcare, okay?” The eager girl nods so hard and fast Cure wonders if he’ll have to fix her neck next.

He points a hoof to a bookshelf by his desk and suggests, “You may want to grab a brush set and a few of my oil plant seeds. The brushes are ethically sourced from the softest bunny rabbits this side’a Canterlot.

“The seeds will grow a hardy flowering plant that’s guaranteed to last at least a full season. Carefully cultivated for cooler cloud conditions, they come in a variety of scents and produce an entire month’s worth of oil every few weeks. They won’t seed or spread, but for only thirty bits you’ll get at least six hundred bits worth of oil from the bulbs they produce.”

The pair are quick to peruse the colt’s selection of oils while Wind Shear sits by the window nearly vibrating in excitement. He shoots the filly a wink as he thinks back to that morning.

>>>>> Flashback <<<<<

Monday, June 22nd, 909 AB ( 22 days prior, the morning after returning from Canterlot)
Immediately after breakfast

Assembled in the Dance/Flare living room, everypony gathers to see how Cure makes good on his suggestion from the night before. Rain had to leave for work early, though Cure did note he stuck around last night. Whatever, he figures. Not my business who does what with who. Thunder Dance and Tailwind Flare are on the closest couch while Glacial and Drift watch on from an overhead cloud.

Eager to get started, Wind turns to the colt and asks, “So what’s the plan here?”

“Well, Wind, I wasn’t blowin smoke last night,” he assures her. “You’re already a very attractive filly, but if you’re only worried about rackin up referrals we can make some small changes that are even more eye-catching. Ultimately, what we do is up to you three,” he insists, waving a hoof between the older filly and her parents. “I guess you should discuss what the goal is. You’re already tall for your age… Here’s a long term idea: how tall do you want to end up being?”

“You can make…” Tailwind cuts himself off, dismissing the question with a shake of his head. “Nevermind,” he sighs, rolling his eyes. “Dumb question. Of course you can.”

“Long legs are very popular, honey,” Thunder points out.

“Can you make me taller too?” Drift asks.

“You just started really growing. I’m not gonna make her taller, exactly, but I can keep her, or you eventually, in that growth phase longer and kinda guide it so when you do reach the size you want you don’t have jacked up knees or disproportionately small wings or whatever. Like I said… long term. That’s why I don’t offer it as a service at my job. It’s a lot more complicated for adults, and it’s definitely not a ‘once and done’ kinda procedure.”

“Oh.”

Cure turns back to the off-white filly. “Just tell me what you want. Bigger wings?”

“Yes!”

“Okay. What about your coat? I can brighten it up more like your dam,” he suggests, nodding to the white mare, “or I could go a step further like the prince and princess.”

She scrunches her snout in confusion and says, “But… your coat is kinda golden brown when -”

He holds up a hoof to interrupt, “I meant Prince Blueblood. Him and his son are basically as white as the boss lady. Even whiter than yer parents.”

“I’ve… always liked dam’s coat,” she shyly admits, a confession that gets a proud smile from the mare.

“That’s easy enough. I’ll give you a bit of a coat upgrade, too. That doesn’t change the look much, but it’ll feel softer. You’ll have to let me know if it’s not insulating as well. It shouldn’t be an issue, but…”

“Can you… umm,” she flushes as she rubs a hoof on her chest.

“Add a little extra volume?” he nonchalantly asks.

Her dam poofs hers out, proudly declaring, “Good thinking! Stallions love a soft pillow to rest on, honey.” Tailwind’s face briefly matches his red mane and he quickly turns away. Both fillies perk up and look at their own chests, then each other’s for comparison.

Cure doesn’t particularly care about chests without a nice set of tits on them, but the girls measuring themselves up does draw a glance which is immediately caught by everypony. Drift ekes out a win and her smug look earns her a scowl from the crystal filly.

Wind doesn’t hesitate to pounce, leaning closer and, with a mischievous glint, asks, “Something catch yer eye, colt?”

“No,” he too-quickly answers. Matter-of-factly he explains, “I haven’t had a lot of customers ask for that, that’s all.”

She steps closer and wraps a foreleg around his withers, pulling him into her chest and asks, “What do you think? Would a little more fluff be nice?”

“I mean… it couldn’t hurt,” he mumbles, nuzzling into the warm softness.

“Wind,” her dam calls in a warning tone. She nods to the two fillies staring daggers and chides, “Don’t tease your sister.”

She releases him, but the smug look she has doesn’t subside at all. “What about my mane?”

Cure awkwardly clears his throat and decides to get back on task. “Maybe we could brighten the gold a tad and add some blue -”

“She can’t have blue! Mine’s blue!” Drift shouts, earning herself a poke from Glacial.

“I have more of a claim ta blue than you do!” he argues. “Besides, I was thinkin something lighter with some pink mixed in too… ya know, just some highlights here and there? Or we could try some underlayers of pink and blue mixed in the back? I think that would work. We don’t want to overpower the gold as a base color.”

“That sounds beautiful, honey!”

“This is cow manure!” Drift hisses, whispering in Glacial’s ear, unaware the colt can hear everything. “We’re his fillyfriends and he’s giving her the full works!”

“What’s wrong with you?! He would do the same for us whenever we want! He already told you that!”

The purple filly huffs in annoyance, though Cure notes she doesn’t argue the point further.

“Hmm… I’m not sure about adding a bunch of color to your wings. Maybe we could give it that ‘dipped paint’ look on the ends. A thin strip of gold on each feather would add some nice banding and really highlight the layering.”

The suggestion gets an eager nod from the teen and an agreeing one from her dam.

“Alright, about the only other thing I would suggest, especially for somepony who’s still growing, is some very light snout work. I’ve had lots of young mares ask for a very lightly trimmed down muzzle… somethin about accentuating their femininity or whatever.” He shrugs noncommittally and adds, “It does tend to emphasize the cheeks a bit more and really does draw the eye.”

“It won’t change how she looks too much will it?” Thunder asks.

“No. Here, take a look…” he replies, projecting an Illusion of the filly with all of the changes.

“Sweet Celestia!” the mare gasps.

“We’re not doing anything so drastic that anypony wouldn’t recognize her. You’ll still look like you, just with an emphasis on your more striking facial features, a brighter, more uniform coat, enhanced coloration, wider wingspan, and eventually,” he projects an older version with long, sculpted legs, “you’ll look like this, if you want.”

Wind’s eyes go wide as she analyzes her future self. “Oh my stars, it’s beautiful!”

“You mean you’re beautiful,” he corrects.

“Fucking ridiculous talent,” Drift grouses.

“Oh, honey… forget having your own stallion. They’ll be lining up just to have a shot at you!”

“I… have a bit of a concern,” Tailwind calls out. “The results are, frankly, breathtaking, but I’m a little leery of her flying around Baltimare by herself looking like,” he trails off, waving his hoof at the image.

“I could see that.” Cure only pauses a moment to consider before making his suggestion. “I normally don’t offer these services to the public,” he explains, “but you all are definitely not ‘the public.’ If it’ll help everypony rest easier at night we certainly could look at some skeletal, muscular, and subdermal protection options I have available. I only ask that they be kept in confidence for the time being.

“We don’t have time to do everything before the train gets here and I need to head to the hospital, but when I’m done she’ll be as tough as a dragon and stronger than any pegasus ought’a be. Internal Sending and Teleport crystals are a good idea too, and if you want some more active defensive options… Well, let’s just say nature gives me plenty to choose from.”

>>>>> Flashback End <<<<<

The young mare and her dam finalize their selection and, after paying for the brush set and a four-pack set of seeds, thank both foals profusely before taking off.

“Looks like somepony’s eager for her payday,” Cure observes.

“Damn right! The two appointments today are worth twice what I earned since starting at City Hall!”

“Good. I told you you’re worth way more than five stupid bits an hour. Here,” he says, offering her a silk pouch with her pay. “There’s a few hundreds in there but the rest are smaller denominations. Five hundred bits total,” he declares, smirking when her hoof freezes barely shy of taking the pouch. “I figured I should add a little bonus for your first payday. You always remember your first paycheck, so why not make it an extra special memory?”

The clicking of the coins when he jingles the pouch prompts her to take it. She instantly sits in her haunches and peers inside, not even realizing her raised wings or that her tail is swishing merrily behind her. Knowing what’s coming, Cure doesn’t resist when she bowls him over in a tackle, kissing and nuzzling up his chin as she laughs in unbridled joy.

A loud “Seriously?!” is shouted from the gap in the room’s divider.

Wind halts her assault, quickly leaping off the pinned colt who turns to the annoyed voice. “Hey beautiful! What’s shakin?”

“You can’t have every filly we know, Cure!” Dawn nearly whines.

He hears Sapphire call out in question from behind the divider. “Were they making out?”

“Saph!” is shouted in a scolding voice by her sister.

“It kinda sounded like it,” is Rising’s curious response.

“I wasn’t -”
“She was just -”

Both pause for an instant before he breaks the silence. He rolls to his barrel and stands explaining, “She got her first payout, that’s all. You know how thrilled you were when you sold that first batch of crystals to the guard.”

Dawn pans her stricken look from her coltfriend to the older filly. Wind’s giving her a defiant stare, but the brilliant blush on her cheeks tells her it wasn’t quite that simple. “I just got paid more bits than I’ve ever had, so back off! He’s not only your stallion anyhow.”

“No! Stop!” Cure calls, hopping between the two and holding his hooves out. “We’re not gonna have that stupid thing happen where everypony misunderstands the situation and it escalates out of control! She,” he points to Wind, “was just super excited about getting paid more money than she would make in a month at her other job. You happened to walk in at the perfect time to catch her excitement. It’s like that time at the stupid ice cream parlor!”

“Really?” she hopefully asks.

“Yes!” both exclaim at once.

Unfortunately Wind can’t leave well enough alone. Smirking, she leans over and gives Cure another nuzzle, then turns to walk to the window, brushing his chest with the tip of her tail. Wings spread, she glances outside and calls out, “I’m outta here. Thanks, colt!” then disappears in a flash of light.

“What the… you gave her a Teleport too?!”

“I had to give her something to help keep her safe.” Pointing at the vacated window he adds, “You saw how she looked.” The words no more than leave his mouth before he winces and waves his hooves to clear the air. “You know what I mean! She’s young and attractive and it’s only a matter of time until some creep says or does somethin that’s inappropriate for a foal.”

Coast, Sapphire, Rising, and Ferric all surface and round the divider as he continues, “Look, I would do and have done no less for any of our friends or their families and you know it. She,” he points at the window, “is gussied up and geared out while essentially working for me. I’m responsible for her well being as an employee.”

“Didn’t he buy some expensive gift for your brother too?” Ferric reminds her.

“Yeah,” she begrudgingly admits. “A scroll book and a bunch of crystals and a set of foreleg guards.”

“And he gave us all presents,” Rising reminds her. “That’s just… him,” she offers with a shrug.

“I also gave Solar a full body massage,” he adds, cringing at the memory of his fingers wrapped around the young stallion’s horn. Giggles sound out from the girls as he tells them, “I have to admit, massing another dude’s horn in front of his whole family was a tiny bit awkward. I could have done without all the moaning, too.” The fillies’ somewhat stifled giggling bursts into uncontrollable laughter as they blush at the mental image of Solar moaning in bliss in front of his parents while Cure “massages” his horn.

“Sorry, Cure,” Dawn apologizes, nuzzling against his cheek.

He returns the affection and says, “It’s alright. So, not that I’m not thrilled to see you all, but what brings ya by?”

Ferric walks past the others and wraps Cure up in a hug. “Everypony is saying the hospital was busy. Are you doing okay?”

“It was… emotionally and physically exhausting,” he admits with a sigh. He leans up, brushing the top of his muzzle on her chin and asks, “How ‘bout we see if Heavy and the pegasi want to meet at the parlor and I’ll give y’all the long version.”

“So let me get this straight,” Drift says, “First she hit a seagull.”

“A few of ‘em,” he confirms, scooping another spoonful of caramel-covered vanilla into his maw. “Flew too low over a sleeping flock and spooked ‘em.”

She nods in understanding and continues, “Then, instead of, you know… stopping like anypony with half a brain would -”

“She probably panicked, Drift,” Glacial suggests from her left. “A bunch of birds taking off in your face will do that.”

“Still! Instead of stopping or pulling up -”

“Again, disoriented. She thought she was pulling up.”

Rolling her hoof she continues, “Uh huh. But instead she veered into a streetlight.”

Even the second retelling has everypony wince in sympathy.

“Yep, caught it with her leg. Only one, though, which you would think would be better than hitting it head on, but…”

The purple filly continues the story, saying, “Then she cartwheels into a building -”

“Not even into a flat wall,” Cure sympathizes with a nod.

“Faceplants into that -”

“No, she clipped the corner with her right side.”

“Then crashes face first into a tree,” Drift finishes.

“The asshole tree didn’t even have the decency to hold onto the poor girl. She fell right on her rear.”

“Poor thing,” Glacial sympathizes. “At least she picked the right day to do it.”

“What all did she hurt?” Heavy asks.

“The whole pegasus aura thing protected her from the worst of it. She was absolutely covered in bruises, but only broke some smaller wing bones and tore up her membrane a fair amount. They only brought her by the ICU because I was there.”

“At least the next one wasn’t so bad. They would have been able to fix her heart with my trees, but… ya know… I was right there, so no risky surgery for her. At the doctor’s request I also carved about thirty kilograms of fat off’a the mare.”

“That’s… almost half of what I weigh,” Coast comments.

Cure scoffs, saying, “She had plenty more to spare. I let the doc tactfully tell her if she doesn’t change her diet I’ll see her again in a few years, if she’s lucky.” Cure freezes, looking to his left in shock when Dawn reaches over and steals a bite of his sundae from him. His bottom lip quivers pitifully until she rolls her eyes, scoops up some of hers and holds it in front of him as a peace offering.

“Daddy said you talked to him on the way in this morning. Mrs. Sprinkleshine told him there were hundreds of ponies lined up outside the hospital when she left home.”

“If she works on the weather team then I probably passed her commuting from Baltimare. Between the Guard squads that came to assist and the hospital staff they called in, they said it took about an hour to get everything organized while I was doin the ICU and out of town transfer patients.

“Most of it was simple stuff; a foal with a cough, old injuries that weren’t worth having surgery to fix, even some nutjobs that were perfectly healthy but swore something was wrong with ‘em. One couple brought their freaking cat ‘cause it got sick last night.”

“Poor kitty!” Sapphire shouts. “Tell me you saved her!”

His ears pin back at being called out. “It was fine,” he bashfully admits.

Drift gives him a harsh look and asks, “You took care of their stupid cat when there were hundreds of intelligent creatures in line?!”

“A cat only weighs a few kilograms. They were in and out in thirty seconds. Besides, I wasn’t the one screening patients in line. By the time I got done with the ICU patients and the transfers from other RHAs they sent a bunch of ponies away, put some through the normal channels, or scheduled the few more difficult ones for Wednesday. Nopony with a serious problem was sent away.

“That still left me with thirty patients I had to burn through in three and a half hours so I could get back to see my cosmetic clients in time. I think Wind woulda flown out to Baltimare and dragged me back by my ears if I’d been late.”

“Do you think you’re maybe… doing too much?” Rising hesitantly suggests. “The hospital, your business, making dolls, flight suits, traveling, the restaurant idea, renovating homes, helping with your siblings.” She looks to the other foals to judge their reaction. “It seems like a lot, right?”

“Well -”

“It’s summer, too,” Heavy points out, cutting the alicorn off.

“But look!” he insists, pulling his watch out and projecting the time. “Two o’clock and I’m done for the day. Technically, I’ve been done since like one thirty, and tomorrow I’ll be free from noon on.” The other foals all pause their eating to consider his point, gracing the colt with a mixture of unsure looks. “How many hours are you working a week, Red?”

The filly’s ears pin at being made the center of attention, but she rallies to answer, “Sixteen during the summer months. I’ll be doing eight during winter… two hours after school Tuesday and Thursday and four Saturday mornings.”

“See,” he says, pointing in triumph, “I’m only planning on working nine at the hospital and anywhere from about seven or eight at my business. Most of that other stuff you named doesn’t actually take any time at all, yet. And the traveling is kinda unavoidable, not to mention awesome, so that shouldn’t even count.”

“The traveling is pretty amazing,” Drift instantly agrees.

“Yeah, I still can’t believe we got to stay in the Royal Castle! Twice!” Glacial adds.

Even Coast chimes in in the colt’s defense. “We’ve also all made a lot of bits. The penguin plushies are selling like crazy, by the way.”

“Nice!” the colt cheers. “So yeah, I’m not sayin yer wrong, RP. I’m am busier than a foal my age should be, but look how great everything’s going! That’s not even mentioning the whole cutie mark thing,” he adds while waving between her and Drift. “Have you thought about getting a real… What’s the right term? Teacher? Tutor?”

“Instructor?”

He points his spoon and nods. “Right, that.”

“I figured with the whole cutie mark thing I didn’t need one.”

“Sissy still has to learn to be a blacksmith,” Sapphire points out.

“It’s also about the connections,” Cure suggests. “I didn’t just sit in my house and test the limits of my talent. I reached out to the clinic and the guard. We may never have met the princess if I hadn’t. A good instructor has probably been doing this for a while and is likely to know somepony who can get you real gigs when you’re older. I mean… I assume you want to play professionally someday?”

The wide-eyed, eager nod is plenty answer enough.

“You have to get started somewhere. It’s not like you’ll just sign up for some talent show in a nowhere town and win and all’a the sudden make it big. So, like I said, I’m free the rest of the day. What does everypony want to get into?”

“We could go for a swim at the pond,” Heavy suggests.

Coast speaks up next with an idea. “We could go for a run in the woods. We haven’t done that in a while.”

“We could go to the range and show you all how…” Dawn starts, face falling when realization sets in. “Ahh no, I guess not until you make them staves too.”

“Good thinking. I’ll do that tonight. I do have an insane number of crystals if y’all wanted to fire those off.”

“Didn’t you learn how to throw javelins from that guard in Canterlot?” Glacial asks.

“Lt. Shield, and yes, I did.”

She turns to Dawn and asks, “Is the range only for magic?”

The orange filly cocks her head in thought, then stares off into the distance. A few seconds later she shakes her head no. “Daddy says we can use it for that as long as we’re following the rules and wer’e not in anypony else’s way.”

“Sweet. We can head over to my place and get everything we need from my plant if y’all want.”

Pvt. Bolt watches on in wonder as the dark red, muscular filly lunges forward and launches the javelin like a lightning bolt. It passes through the target just below the snout and buries itself half way into the backstop to the cheering shouts of the other foals. “This some kinda junior guard thing, sarge? We startin that out here too?”

Sgt. Haze slowly shakes his head. “No, private, it is not and we are not. Unless you’d like to volunteer to lead it.”

“I’m good.”

The colt holds a staff up in the air and, inexplicably, it gains a chocolatey aura. The hole in the target closes and the javelin disappears in a flash of light, popping back into existence right in time for the sarge’s filly to catch it.

“Did he just - "

“Yes,” Haze sighs. “He did.”

“Sure. Why not?” the private scoffs. “Nine years old and can cast Teleport runeless. Dunno why he bothers with a staff though.”

Both Sgt. Haze and Pvt Reed turn to the yellow stallion, the former with a look of concern and the latter confusion.

“What’s that mean?” Pvt. Reed asks.

Bolt goes rigid at the reminder of the pegasus mare’s presence. “Nothin. Don’t worry about it. Looks like yer girl’s up next,” Bolt points out, nudging the older stallion with his shoulder.

The three watch as Dawn takes the javelin in her right fetlock and stands at the firing line. Cure’s staff gains the same glow, but no spell is visibly cast. Instead, the three guards watch as his daughter squats into the same pose again and, without releasing the javelin, repeats the movements. It only takes a moment before her motions go from being jerky to a much smoother, more natural movement.

“Wait,” Bolt mumbles. “Is he -”

“Yes. He is.”

The colt and filly exchange a few words and, with a nod, his aura cuts out. Dawn winds up again, this time releasing the javelin at the end of her lunge. It hits the target slightly high, impaling a couple hooves into the board before it comes to a stop.

Reed whistles in appreciation, “Wow, sarge! I didn’t know yer filly was such a hardflank, too. When did she start learning the javelin of all things?”

“To my knowledge… never.” Sighing a second time in only a few moments, Haze watches as the platinum filly steps up next. Once again, the scene repeats itself with the pegasus going through the motions a couple times before launching her throw, this time going wide resulting in a pout from the girl and some mocking calls from Thunder’s daughter.

“Well… I’m satisfied they’ll be alright,” he says, turning and marching back towards town.

Bolt turns and canters to catch up to his superior, asking, “Sarge? You sure we should be ignorin that? Last I checked that kinda thing is super -”

“Ingenious. An innovative way to guide other foals through the proper technique,” Haze says overtop the private’s observation. “And yes. We are absolutely going to ignore anything you think you may have seen.” The stallion looks to his right and meets Pvt. Reed’s eyes as he explains, “Should you witness that group of foals doing anything you are concerned about, bring it to Sgt. Bulwark, Sgt. Song, or myself and, otherwise, tell no other soul.”

“Sir?”

“Ehh… you should probably listen to the sarge here, Reed. The blue colt?” He pauses for her to nod. “He’s the one what was helpin us get ready for the squads competition. Got a business downtown bringin ponies in from all over. Canterlot, Fillydelphia, you name it. Colt’s got connections like you wouldn’t believe. If he ain’t hurtin nopony, prolly best just to let ‘em be.”

Author's Note

Okay, so I normally avoid doing flashbacks. I've said this before and I'll say it again. They're jarring and, especially in a story like this where there's actual dates, can be confusing.

I hope this one wasn't too bad. Everyone was wondering what Cure did with Wind the morning after he got back from Canterlot and I figured a small scene where the family sorts that out would be a good idea, so ... there ya have it.

So to summarize:
Chapter takes place on 7/13. The flashback took place on 6/22, the morning after Chapter 82 ended. Chapter 83 (just for reference) was on 6/28, the Sunday a week after the gang all came back from Canterlot.

A bit of bad news - I've been mostly out of commission the last week or so, so unless the inspiration fairy comes down and makes me her bitch there will not be a chapter next week.

We're also getting closer to the holidays, so keep that in mind. I'll put a schedule out there once I figure out what's going on with RL.

As always, thanks for reading, commenting, rating, etc.

Enjoy!