“Even after a two parter?” Rainbow Dash whines, kicking at the floor. “We did an ultrasound and a thaumythingy.” She hates the cramped hospital room, and wants nothing more than to burn off that anxious energy building inside her. Or even just hover. There’s no harm in hovering, right?

“I’m kind of glad they are foals,” Doug says quietly as Rainbow Dash takes off.

Applejack and Rarity lean in close, partly to hear but mostly to keep close to their stallion. They don’t like how his words drip with worry, a reticence to mention these sort of things.

“I almost thought they’d be some sort of hybrid,” Doug continues, hugging the two mares even closer. Rainbow Dash hovers behind him, laying a comforting hoof on his shoulder. He leans his head against her hoof, sighing. “Like, a chimera? I think that’s the term. Some sort of centaur.”

Applejack grits her teeth while Rarity cautions in a low, terse voice, “We don’t talk about centaurs.”

Doug pauses, his train of thought derailed. “...Because of creatures like me?”

“We don’t talk about centaurs,” Rarity repeats with that same coldness, the rest of the room silent.

“Why?” Rainbow Dash asks from above.

“And… can I read about them?” Doug asks as Dr. Horse steps over.

“A centaur once attempted to steal Equestrian magic,” Dr. Horse states bluntly. “Short story: it didn’t work.”

“Right,” Doug says, sighing and wondering how much he resembles this ‘centaur’. You’d think the lack of an ass’ ass would be enough.

“Hmmmm,” Dr. Whorlson ponders, his muzzle straining to contain his smile. It flickers between glee and a certain dread. He holds up a folder of papers. Dr. Horse turns to regard him curiously. “The team’s preliminary hypothesis and diagnosis is in.”

“Tell them to go back and try again,” Dr. Horse returns with a roll of his eyes.

“Looks like Fourpone owes me twenty bits,” Dr. Whorlson says with a bit of a smirk.

“You’re betting on our foals?” Rarity says, taken aback.

“No, of course not,” Dr. Whorlson says, looking past an obdurate Dr. Horse. “On whether or not he would reject our finding out of hoof.”

Rarity slowly nods, keeping one glaring eye on Dr. Horse.

“Fine,” Dr. Horse says, his long, exasperated exhale accompanying a resigned drop of his head. He spins his hoof in a circle. “Let’s hear it.”

“You’re not going to like it,” Dr. Whorlson warns, like he’s said this dozens of times before. “But all of the evidence points towards it.” He takes a deep breath, preparing himself for the inevitable blowback.

Dr. Horse’s eyes go wide. “No,” he demands. His physical form isn’t normally intimidating, but the aura he projects would make a lesser pony’s knees buckle in terror. “Don’t you dare.”

“It’s L-”

“Nope, nope, nope,” Dr. Horse cuts him off with an exaggerated wave. If he could be frothing at the mouth and retain a shred of dignity he’d be doing that. “Go back, drawing board, try again.”

“-upus,” Dr. Whorlson finishes regardless. “The signs fit.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” spits out Dr. Horse, snatching the folder with an exasperated huff. “Lupus doesn’t commonly manifest until the onset of puberty, even if it is genetic.” He caustically flips through the pages, barely spending any time on each. “If anything, it’s thupus.”

“Thupus?” Doug asks dumbly. Just saying the word makes him feel like an idiot who can’t remember where their lisp is supposed to be.

Dr. Horse nods sharply, as if it is the most obvious thing in the world. “Thupus, or thaumatic onset lupus. It’s an autoimmune disorder where the body’s magical core attacks healthy cells.”

“An autoimmune disorder that you just made up,” Dr. Whorlson states angrily, snatching the papers back. He walks away, putting the papers back in order while Dr. Horse angrily stomps behind him. “There has never been a single recorded case of anything of the sort ever happening before.”

“There’s always a first case,” Dr. Horse says snidely, though he catches himself as he points to the mares. “Or in this case, three first cases.” He nods at them sarcastically. “Congratulations.”

They don’t look particularly happy to receive his congratulations.

“Just because you can’t figure out what it is,” Dr. Whorlson says sternly, “doesn’t mean you can send us on an astral ursa chase.”

“When have I ever done that?” Dr. Horse demands.

Dr. Whorlson merely turns his head, fixing Dr. Horse with an unblinking stare.

“Okay, name... four other times that I did that,” Dr. Horse demands with the same intensity. A sneer crosses his muzzle as Dr. Whorlson rolls his eyes. “Ah ha! See?”

Dr. Whorlson ignores the outburst, turning to the herd. “As you can see, there is some disagreement as to the cause of this… anomaly your foals are currently...“ he pauses, searching for a better word, then sighs. “Suffering from.” He gives a sympathetic nod to Doug, then the mares.

“You think they are suffering?” Doug asks, his breath catching. His hands tighten around his mares, and Rainbow Dash nearly drops from the sky to join them in hugging him closer.

Dr. Whorlson sighs, meeting Doug’s eyes. “It’s nearly impossible to say. Right now, they’re healthy. If it is…”

“Thupus,” Dr. Horse says spookily, holding up and shaking his hooves up like he’s the boogeymare.

“I’m not even going to validate that with a response,” Dr. Whorlson continues. “If it is some disease that is afflicting them, we’ve never seen it before. We don’t know what letting it run its course would do. We don’t know what stopping it would do.” He pauses to recover with a deep breath. “There’s a chance your ‘chimera’ remark isn’t far from the truth due to Doug’s… unique interaction with magic, were it not occurring.”

“I can’t say I’m comfortable with the idea of forced conversion,” Doug states.

“Ah…” Applejack starts, then sighs. “To be honest? It might be the pony in me talkin’, but Ah’m glad they’ll have an easier time fittin’ in.”

“Well,” Rarity says, then immediately clams up. She can’t seem to lift her eyes from the floor, minute shudders pulsing through her body. She huddles close to Doug, his comforting arm not quite enough to soothe her fears.

“Then what’s the plan?” Doug says, trying to draw attention away from his distraught mare. A scowl crosses his face. “Wait and see?”

Dr .Whorlson’s muzzle purses into a thin, grim grin. “To a certain extent, it depends on what you wish to accomplish.”

“Oh, just tell them what they want to hear,” Dr. Horse butts in. He looks Doug in the eyes, his horn alight and projecting a rose tinted farmhouse, a smiling sun, and dancing flowers. Rainbow Dash shudders like that would be her nightmare. “Your foals will grow big and strong, and one day will have lots of little grandfoals running around. A happy, idyllic life for everypony, yes?”

“You believe that?” Doug asks, frowning slightly.

“Remember what I said earlier?” Dr. Horse says bluntly. He repeats himself even as Doug nods, “Everypony lies. There are no promises here, no projections worth more than this.” He waves a hoof through the image, and it warps into a dark, twisted version as it dissipates. “Any plan we take is just as likely, if not more, to screw things up worse than they already are. If you trust that Harmony knows what she is doing, then let this run its course.” He shrugs. “It can’t be any worse than the alternative.”

Doug takes a deep breath. He looks like he has quite a bit more to say, but none of it productive. “So that’s it? A single guess, and a prescription of ‘wait and see’?”

“Oh, no,” Dr. Horse mocks. He raises his hooves in the air, and they tremble back and forth. “Magic isn’t the be-all end-all solution for all of life’s problems! Woe is me!”

“Can we go yet?” Rainbow Dash asks, her already frayed patience about to snap. She’d let that travesty of a doctor have a piece of her mind if he wasn’t a sorry excuse of a stallion. She quickly takes her own suggestion, buzzing a path to the door and down the hallway.

None of the others look for any excuse to stay, quickly filing out. Dr. Whorlson hoofs Applejack a copy of their notes on the way out, merely offering her a sympathetic smile.

“So,” Doug asks Applejack and Rarity, Rainbow Dash already buzzing off, “who or what is ‘Harmony’?”

“Uh,” Applejack says, a mite confused. “Ya know, the Elements of Harmony? She’s kinda a big deal.”

“I thought those were tenets,” Doug says, scratching the back of his head. “Like, virtues to pursue.”

“They are more than that,” Rarity says, flicking her mane to the side. “Harmony is the personification of magic, but more than that; she is magic. She stands against chaos and discord, and through her gift of magic allows ponies to do the same.”

“You have examples of that?” Doug asks. “More than stories?”

“Well, you two have fun,” Applejack says with a bit of forced cheer. She never liked these esoteric conversations, instead preferring to live life through Princess Celestia’s example. “Ah think they’re a few trees callin’ mah name.” She nuzzles Doug. “You two goin’ diggin’ again?”

“Perhaps,” Rarity says, joining Applejack for a nuzzle goodbye. “I’m glad there was some light shed, but I still fear the worst.”

“Ah know,” Applejack returns softly. “Just gotta stay strong.” She smiles, more genuine this time, and trots back to Sweet Apple Acres.

“One example,” Rarity says, obviously trying to keep her mind from wandering back to the hospital visit, “is in cutie marks. It’s quite common for there to be a need for a certain cutie mark, and for a pony to just happen to get a cutie mark in that area.” She motions towards the school to the west, even though it’s on the other side of town. “For instance, even with my… with Cookie Crumbles leaving the school, I wouldn’t be surprised if a pony got a teaching cutie mark.” Her lips purse slightly, her trepidation plain. “Although, with Spoiled Rich teaching the classes - at least temporarily - that might make the ‘need’ a bit lessened.”

“So,” Doug says, face scrunching up. Asking a question relating to God is just begging for misunderstandings, and long explanations that probably lead nowhere. “She’s all powerful? Knows everything?”

“Not precisely,” Rarity says. “But perhaps it’s that we don’t know. It’s not like she wrote a book on the subject; we just have to go with the truths written in our marks and hearts, the feelings of generosity and loyalty to our fellow ponies, of our joy when we share kindness and laughter with our friends.”

“What an ideal to strive for,” Doug says as the two walk back to Carousel Boutique. Once they enter he stops her with a hand to her withers. He asks, his tone soft yet forceful, “Is something bothering you?”

Rarity’s head drops as her legs give out, her body sinking to the ground. Doug follows her, kneeling and then sitting at her side.

“What if…” Rarity starts, choking up on her words.

Doug merely pats her back, his other hand clutching at his tensed stomach.

“What if my dam is right?” Rarity sobs, burying her head in his chest. She finds it comforting, if barely; if a being like him could survive and even thrive with no magic, surely there is help for her foal, right?

Doug’s face hardens. He knows his dam’s worries, yet finds reassuring strokes along her back not enough. “They will still be loved.”

“What if that’s not enough?” Rarity demands, horn raking across his arm as she looks up at him. “You don’t know how important a horn is to a budding filly! Without it, she’d… she’d be…”

“A cripple?” Doug states, devoid of emotion. He feels that coldness seeping into his heart. He wants to wall himself off from any and every emotion, to seal away the pain he knows might come.

“Yes!” Rarity cries. “She’d be excluded from games, practically ostracized!”

“So we teach them that having a horn, or how powerful their horn is, isn’t everything.” Doug forcefully pets down Rarity’s mane. She grimaces at the contact, but he doesn’t let up. “We show them that they can still be something, accomplish anything they put their mind to. We don’t give up on them.”

“I wish,” Rarity sobs, turning again into his chest. “I wish I can be that strong.”

“With your filly,” Doug says, hand rubbing into her coat, “I think you’ll… I think we’ll find that we can.”

He leans back, and she rolls with him, both laying on the cold hardwood floor, holding on to each other for support. Both their greatest fears, potentially realized, and yet having someone, or somepony, else to be there for them might be exactly what they need.

Next Chapter: Ch. 88 - Hale Negator Estimated time remaining: 3 Hours, 53 Minutes