Arin had never felt so humiliated in his life. When he entered the bathtub, hot water running, he slipped and twisted his ankle on his bad leg – slamming his head against the edge of the tub and rendering himself unconscious. When he came to, the Guards had heard the noise, and sent for a caretaker to come to aid him.

Which meant that he now lay in the tub, nursing his injured arm (which, of course, he landed on) and trying to keep his leg still as waves of pain darted along it. And a rather adorable looking mare, half the height of Celestia, tending to him in the tub. Doting over him with a sponge as she ran hot water through his hair.

He had a feeling that this mare in question was a baby sitter with nothing better left to do.

“D’aww, couldn’t keep your balance dear?” She said, using a hoof to push the hair out of his eyes. Keep in mind that Arin was thirty years of age, and while still young by Ascended standards, he had been able to watch over himself since the age of ten.

He said nothing as his cheeks grew crimson with shame. The pink mare giggling as the sponge dipped into the murky water below, sliding up over his back. How did she hold the sponge with a hoof?

“It’s alright dear. Honey Rose is here to help!” She beamed, squeezing a dollop of soap into his grimy locks.

“I can take care of myself…” Arin protested. A hoof slid in, booping his nose.

“And I know. Just like the all the granponies in the nursing home can. That’s why I’m so good with a sponge! They’re so good at cleaning themselves, I’ve learned by watching all of their advanced acrobat moves.” She winked, hoping to draw a smile from her charge.

Arin sighed, rolling his eyes. Well, at least she was nice. Did he prefer nice? Would he rather a stoic nurse who grabbed him aggressively, or the sweet syrupy voice of this yellow maned mare?

At least her honey eyes twinkled adorably.

“You know, I’ve never seen anything like you before. I’ve taken care of ponies, dragons, even a few cervine and minotaur – but never… whatever you are! And I’ve seen that weird Hoo-Man from Ponyville, that ugly green skinned goblin!”

Arin ignored the last bit about this ‘Anon’ fellow, and spoke. “I would be a non-class Seraph, or an Inert.”

“Ooo, Seraph? Like a holy pony? That’s adorable! But why the other name, Inert?”

“It means that I have no powers, like an ascended Seraph would. I can not fly, nor cast magic. Thus I am an Inert Seraph.”

“Well, you’re definitely the most adorable Seraph I have ever taken care of in all of my life, and I’m only twenty seven!”

Somehow, the sting of knowing that he was only three years older than this Honey Rose hurt him more than when she inevitably poured a fresh batch of hot water over his head.

“I heard that somepony has a few injuries, too? Did you get into a scrap with the toilet, cutie?” She couldn’t stop her giddy attitude, it seemed. Better to compliment that with a splash of reality, Arin thought.

“My world was struck down by a power beyond reason, that rent the sun in twain and doomed our world to perish in its twilight hours. I was injured in the cataclysm, and from attempting to save and salvage what I could.”

Honey Rose blinked.

“And now, you were injured from falling in the bathtub. You grow old so fast, huh?”

The shock of that merciless response put a dent in his attitude. Perhaps talking about something of that nature to one who deals with the elderly on a daily isn’t going to garner much sympathy. Sharp thorns on this rose…

“Don’t take it personally, dear. When you deal with grandpas who struggle on the daily to use the bathroom before they wake up, you tend to shoot down their war stories pretty quickly.”

Her smile dimmed after her recent comment, but she didn’t slow her work. If anything, she grew a little more gentle.

“So what’s hurt? I’ll be careful.” Honey began to drain the tub, to replace the now gray water with a fresh batch. Arin shyly tried to cover himself as the dirty water began to drain.

“My left arm… the Princess said it might be broken. And my right leg, I twisted it badly – twice now. When I fell, I hit my head.”

“Oh. Sorry. I guess that explains why you kept cringing when I dragged the sponge through your hair. I just thought you fell and asked the guards for help.” She continued to idly wash him, before the sponge came to a stop.

She puckered her lips. “Wait… your arm is broken? How are you not screaming in pain?” Honey seemed more worried the longer Arin went on, but Arin was more concerned about the rapidly draining water, and the fact he sat naked in front of a bubbly mare. If there was one thing he didn’t like, was being stripped bare in front of strangers.

“I broke it hours ago. I’m used to it now.”

Honey reached toward the elegant brass knobs, turning on fresh hot water. It was near scalding, but Arin ignored this; Honey had grabbed the sponge again, reaching for his legs. Specifically his thighs, which was a bit too far for the Inert.

“T-Thank you, but I believe I can wash that myself!” Arin yelped, grabbing the hoof hard in his right hand. Honey dropped the sponge, taking her turn to blush.

“Oh, sorry. Habbit. The old stallions specifically don’t mind that part, I started to glaze over it.” She took the sponge up, slipping down the tub to instead wash the bits Arin would have issues reaching. She took careful consideration cleansing his right leg, looking over the swollen ankle.

“You’re pretty tough for a weird monkey,” Honey teased. “I can tell you’ve got some muscle, too. What do you do? I’m guessing you’re an elite guard, huh?”

Arin was having trouble containing his embarrassment. “Is this really the time for this conversation? If I had known any better, I’d say you’re looking to discuss this further over an ale.”

“Ale? Oh goodness no, I prefer cider. And I know just the place to get one, in Canterlot, if you’re interested?” Honey Rose winked, resting a hoof on Arin’s leg.

Arin stared right through the mare. He didn’t know what to feel, and it was a bit too sudden for him. “Maybe another time?…”

“Aw, alright cutie. It was worth a try, huh?” She wringed out the sponge one more time, dropping it in the water. “You know, a lot of mares wouldn’t mind seeing you as their special somepony, if you catch my drift. You have a nice face for weird monkey. It doesn’t help that we’re always in a stallion shortage. Two wives for every husband. That’s good luck for you, I guess. Here, let me give you some privacy to finish up. Call me when you need to get out.”

The pony turned about, slipping out of the room to give him space. The man grabbed the sponge, idly squeezing it in his fingers. It seems as if every conversation today is trying its best to leave him disoriented. ‘Oh hey Arin! Let’s go ahead and teleport you to another world, where you’ll be treated like an equal and given a sponge bath by an absolutely adorable pink pony, who will then ask you out on a date!’

Finishing up, the mare returned on his call. She pulled a towel from the nearby cupboard with her muzzle, setting it on the sink’s counter. Her hoof deftly pulled the plug to the tub, then waited patiently by the edge.

Oh. Oh no.

“I can get out of the tub myself, thank you!” Arin nearly squeaked. This only drew a knowing smirk from Honey Rose.

“Oh, of course you can. I know you can struggle out of the bathtub on your own. That’s why I’m here, to kindly pick up the pieces.” She stuck her tongue out, giggling much too adorably for this situation. “Also, Doctor Cheery Hooves is here to see you, she’s just outside that door. Waiting. You know. For you to get out of the bathtub. In a reasonable amount of time.”

Arin defiantly grabbed on to the edge of the tub with his good arm, limp limb covering his private bits. “Then she’ll be shocked to see me walking out of this bathroom on my own, wont she?” He sparked in defiance.

He shifted onto his left side, his good leg slipping across the soap slicked porcelain clawfoot tub as he twisted and churned in the draining water. Growling in frustration, he hissed when the back of his foot slid out – colliding with the faucet.

Honey Rose yawned, looking to her hoof as if she wore a watch. Upon realizing this, she instead looked to the frog of her hoof, inspecting it for any residual soap.

This charade continued for several minutes, with Arin growling out curses between falls. What was this bathtub made of? Lubricant? How could ponies even get out of this thing?

With a defeated sigh, he flopped on his back.

“Ready for some help?” Honey offered, having moved from the edge of the tub to sitting on the toilet lid long ago, a magazine in hoof.

“No. Tell the Doctor I’m ready to see him.”

“Her. It’s a she. And I think she’s less than eager to poke around a shampoo covered minotaur-thing, who refuses the simplest of help.” Honey closed the issue, setting it back on the nearby book rack.

Arin weighed his dignity versus the prospect of getting out of the bowl of a bathtub. With a sigh, he offered Honey Rose his good arm. She plopped down from her seat, grabbing it and quickly hefting him onto her back. Much to his shame.

How was she so strong? Her nose came up to his belt! With the newfound freedom, he quickly hobbled onto his good leg, swiping the towel around him. Honey Rose couldn’t stop her giddy nature, and swatted him on the hind end with her tail.

“See? You’re such a clever acrobatic, I hardly noticed you escape that prison of yours.” She winked, making him feel strange. This was too much for the poor man. She stuck to his bad side, offering her back for support should he decide to visit the floor again.

Thankfully, as he made his way to the bed, he had little need. Maybe a bump or two, but he only leaned on her out of appreciation for the help. Definitely.

The doctor had already set up in the room; an older mare with a golden mane and a cream coat. A tattoo on her flank in the shape of a heart with a horseshoe complimented her warm smile, her crows feet obvious in her eyes. If asked about them, she would call them ‘smile scars’, Arin was sure of it.

“Ah, hello. You must be the reason I’m here. I’m Doctor Cheery Hooves, I am an orthopedist in the Canterlot High Hopes Hospital. I received a letter from Princess regarding you, Arin. From the sound of things, you were having a wonderful time in the bathroom.”

Her warm smile could melt Arin’s icy attitude in a moment, and he sheepishly drew his right hand behind his head, scratching his wet hair. “Well, you could say that.”

“I guess I could. Now, why don’t you relax on the bed while I give you an examination, hmm? I can tell your hoof… well, foot is giving you trouble, along with your arm. While I typically work on ponies, I don’t believe there to be many minotaur hybrid specialists within Equestria’s borders.”

Arin obeyed her requests, following his second nature to do so. She withdrew a strange device from her bag with her horn (how many of these ponies had magic?) and hovered over his swollen ankle.

“I see…” The screen glowed brightly, even against the sunshine of the mid morning sun. “Now, this isn’t as strong as an X-Ray, but it does give me a good idea of what’s going on. You appear to have torn a ligament partially, leading to a collection of blood in the vicinity of the wound. Some minor trauma could also indicate a hairline fracture, coupled with an excess buildup of plasma… hmm. There is no indication of overly excessive edema, excluding this large plasma pocket here-” She tapped a hoof against the swollen ankle gently, “but I believe that it’s healing well, with no infection. Ice and elevation would do you well. I don’t have a brace for this kind of limb on hoof, I’m afraid. I’ll have one ordered.”

She sized up the injured man with her eyes, tapping a hoof to her chin. “I might need to put forward a request for a crutch sized for you, too. You’re much too large for anything local. I’ll include that in my report to the Princess. Now, for your arm…”

She trotted around the side of the bed. Her smile didn’t falter far, trying not to worry her patient. She examined the left arm, humming quietly to herself. The magical device floating cautiously over the limb, the screen shining as bright as ever.

Her smile twitched, but stayed. “Well, you have a clear break here. The problem with it is if it were fresh, we could treat it immediately with magic – but this looks several dozen hours old, and the body has already begun to repair it. And repair it in the wrong angle, so I’ll have to break it again to re-set it in a splint. I’m astonished you aren’t in any more pain than you’ve shown. Most would be crippled without aid.”

Arin blinked. “Pain is only a response to injury. It’s just the body trying to draw attention to a wound. Once you know it’s injured, you don’t need the pain anymore. This is common among my people. Also, I broke it the day prior.”

Cheery gave a soft ‘hmm’, thinking. “Regardless, I’ll have to put you under anesthesia to fix this.”

“No, that’s fine. Fix it now.”

Cheery didn’t blink, simply clapped her hoof over the broken arm. A sickening crunch was heard, and even Honey gave a disgusted shudder.

The sudden shock almost winded the injured Inert, who yelped in pain. Immediately, magic swirled around his arm – penetrating the skin, seeping into the bone to help ease the process. He whimpered for a moment as the magic dulled the sensation, before giving a shaky sigh. Once Cheery’s aura stopped, he gave an experimental flick of his wrist. With pain, his left hand could move.

“I managed to mend the bone enough where you can get away with just a splint. With how quickly you heal, you’ll only need it for a few days.”

Arin nodded at her reply, gingerly touching over his forearm. “Doctor, I always wondered. In my world, very few healers can fully heal wounds, breaks, and illnesses. Why is that?”

The Inert could see a flicker of delight in her eyes; Cheery loved to share knowledge.

“All creatures able to use magic can be trained to cast healing magic. But, the potency of this magic varies based on the pony, their skill, their experience, and the magical cost for the individual. Additionally, every creature has a maximum potential as well; a limit they can not break. For most, with proper training, they may be able to heal cuts, scrapes, and bruises, but could never mend a bone. Some lucky Unicorns have a high potential for healing, and typically earn a cutiemark for it. Like me.” She tilts her horn to her flanks, showing off that heart and horseshoe cutiemark once more.

“This special mark signifies that I have a talent for healing hooves – specifically the bones.” Her smile seemed to glow, as she dimly ran a limb over the healing arm. She withdrew a split from her bag – setting to work once more.

“So you have to have a talent for it to cast it well?”

“Not exactly. Think of it like… grades. You can grade wounds based on their severity; a grade one wound would be a simple cut, while a grade ten would be a missing limb. Each individual magic user, when they first learn healing magic, would only be able to heal grade one injuries. They can increase their maximum grade through practice and study. But every pony can only learn up to a maximum grade that’s based entirely on factors beyond their control, like heritage, and genetics.

“Healing wounds also incurs a cost. Inside almost every creature, is an ember of magic. Channeling magic draws energy from this ember, and exhausts the creature. Some ponies waste more magic than others when casting, and this is a hindrance when casting any spell – especially healing magic.”

The splint was finished. She gave the hard metal beneath the cloth a tap, happy with her work. Packing up her instruments, she gave a few more observations over Arin’s form.

“And finally, the answer to your question. Healers are chosen beyond the user, just like cutiemarks. Experience, skill, and knowledge – none of it matters over a raw talent for it. Even someone like Princess Celestia, with all of her power, probably has average healing abilities, if not above average due to her age. It’s why she reached out to me.”

Arin thought quietly on this, thinking it over.

“So… talent can affect magic ability?”

Cheery Hooves clopped her hooves together, grinning. “You’re sharp! Yes, having a talent for a skill can help you channel magic into this skill. Us Unicorns, especially, can detect magic potential in another. And when I concentrate on you…”

She gets an all too familiar look on her face. It was the same focused glare that Celestia had when she first met Arin. A wave of energy washes over him, a familiar tingle he couldn’t shake.

“…Odd.”

“What? What’s odd?” Arin asked. He knew he was magicless, like many Inerts. A simple side character for the adventurers of his world.

“I can feel an Ember inside of you, but it feels… dormant. Though I’m not an expert in this matter. You should talk with a Royal Mage, or even a Princess about this. I specialize in mending trauma, not… this.”

She grabbed her bag in a levitation spell, and headed to the door. “If you have anymore questions, feel free to write a letter to me, Cheery Hooves, at the Canterlot High Hopes hospital. I’ll have someone bring around a temporary wheelchair until a more suitable crutch can be fashioned. And as for you, Honey Rose, I thought it was your day off?”

“Well yeah, but I just so happened to be around the wards when I heard the letter come in, so I volunteered. What, did you miss me lazing around the cafeteria already?” She grinned, giggling.

“Ha! No, but the chairs did. I’ll see you tomorrow, Honey.” She closed the door quietly behind herself, leaving the two alone.

“You’re… not gonna follow her?”

“Oh no, I volunteered for the day. You’ve got me for the next several hours, what a wonderful first date, huh?” Honey gave a sultry wink, though if she meant anything by it, Arin wasn’t sure.

“Yes, wonderful… of course.” He flopped back onto the cushy, comfortable bed. “I guess I can’t just send you away, huh?”

“Nope!”

“Tell you to leave?”

“Nuh uh.”

“How about bribe you to get out?”

“Did I hear something about you wanting another bath? Don’t tempt me.” For such a small pony, she could loom over him rather well when he was laying down.

“I’m clean enough, thanks.” The man draped his good arm over his eyes, fluttering his lips in frustration. It sounded quite like a pony snorting, much to the pleasure of Honey.

“Oh, I guess that’s universal, huh?” She offered, to no response of course. For several long minutes, there was not a single word from Arin. Seems like it was up to Honey Rose to save the day.

“Well, if you’re not in the mood to talk… how about I find you some food? I could probably convince the guards to run errands for me. They’d probably jump at the chance over statue impersonation any day.” Honey sat at the edge of the bed, awaiting an answer.

“…Fine.”

“Wow, you’re really not making this charity case easy on me, huh?” Miss Rose stuck out her tongue, before trotting to the door. Arin began to wonder if the Princess put her up to this. What happened to bed rest? Relaxing? Licking one’s wounds?

It couldn’t possibly get any worse, could it?…