The high society of Neigh Orleans was, no other word for it, simply fabulous. But of course, what else would it be? It was a rare, subtly balanced blend: the elegance of stately manors and the primeval heat of the bayou summer; courtly dancing to swinging jazz; fine dining served on elegant china that could set even Celestia's solar-powered palate to sizzling. Rarity took to it like a fish to water.

It was somewhat ironic, really, Rarity thought. Her life in humble-- well formerly humble Ponyville, and her long friendship with Applejack had prepared her for Neigh Orlean's quixotic blend of the genteel and the rustic. It amused her to think that 'unsophisticated' Applejack would be just as comfortable in Neigh Orleans high society as Rarity herself.

Their host, Southern Comfort, was a jovial if genteel stallion, a stout white unicorn pony with a greying sky-blue mustache and goatee and a charming accent that rolled back and forth casually like brandy in a snifter. He had been "Honored, deeply honored, Ma'am" to play host to the Princess of Generosity and her little sister Duchess Sweetiebelle, and had made a point of personally showing them about.   The carriage tour of the city had been entrancing, the courtly Southern Comfort had a story, legend or bit of folklore about nearly every building along the way. And this little lawn party was certainly charming in its own right. They had music, food, and even a bit of dancing-- all of it like the Neigh Orleans ponies themselves; big, bright, bold and a little brassy.

Thus far though, it had yielded little in the way of results for the alicorn hunt. Her own perfunctory scans had revealed no latents among the throng, young nor old, wealthy tycoons or servants. Her casting about for clues amidst the idle gossip weren't any more fruitful; no hints of unduly long-lived families or folk of unusual magical prowess worth mentioning, and the only ancient dowagers and matriarchs to be found were of sufficiently wrinkled status to justify their age.

She sighed a bit and nibbled at an hors d'oeuvre. At least the party was for a good cause; a fundraising for 'the local economically disadvantaged,' as their host put it. At least Sweetiebelle was having a good time. She'd been entranced with the music, and was absolutely pigging out on beignets.... of course the staff absolutely adored her and kept plying her with the sweet pastries whenever they saw her. One more trip to the buffet and the little unicorn was going to be 50% powdered sugar by body weight.

She noticed a slight commotion off to one side. Their host was off in an alcove with somepony; a mare from the town, it looked like. She seemed terribly agitated and was speaking urgently with him. Curious, Rarity trotted over. Southern Comfort saw her approach and gave her a polite half-bow. "Sorry to leave the festivities, your Highness," he said. "It seems I'm needed in my professional capacities." Southern Comfort, as it so happened, was a doctor, and one of some respectable reputation. This was obviously one of his patients. "Miss Cling Peach here, well her daughter's been ill, and it seems she's taken a turn for the worse..." his grave tone and the mother's distraught expression told Rarity all she needed to know about the severity of the situation.

Rarity nodded. "Of course... is there anything I could do?"

The offer was given without a second thought; such things had always been automatic for the alicorn of Generosity. Southern Comfort started to reply in the negative, but Peach's eyes lit up with hope. "Oh, please, your Highness--" she said.

Rarity realized with a dismaying jolt that Peach saw an alicorn princess offering to help. She probably expected Rarity to spin a medical miracle out of the air with her horn. She started to protest that she wasn't that sort of alicorn... but she couldn't do it. She couldn't take away that spark of hope in a mother's eyes. "I.... don't know what precisely I can do till I see her," she averred. "But I can at least try."

Cling Peach's eyes refused to dim. "That's... all I can ask, I suppose," she said. "But... even if you can't do anything..."

"Well, even so," Southern Comfort said, with a twinkle in his eye, "I'm sure havin' the prettiest new Princess in Equestria visit her bedside will do wonders for the filly's spirits."

Rarity couldn't help but chuckle at the old stallion's flattery. "Shall we depart then?"

Southern Comfort looked around. "Perhaps it's best if we slip out the back way, so as not to arouse unnecessary chatter," he said.

"Indeed," Rarity said. One of the things she'd found as a newly minted princess was that the simple act of leaving a room could leave one entangled in complicated farewells if one allowed it. "Jade Blossom?" She said over her shoulder.  The elegant bodyguard appeared at her elbow, making Southern Comfort jump in surprise.(1) "I'll be taking my leave in a moment... discreetly."

Jade nodded in understanding. She did not need to speak; It went without saying that she would have the covered carriage brought around back, or that she and the other ladies of the radiant guard would facilitate Rarity's departure by distracting the party guests with their graces and charm. Rarity's guardmares were trained at Celestia's own hoof; they were professionals at this sort of thing. Heck, they were the best.

"Are you leaving, Rarity?"  Rarity jumped a bit and turned around. Sweetiebelle did have the most unsettling ability to sneak up on a pony. She was standing behind her now, peering curiously at her older sister.

"Um, yes," Rarity said, lowering her voice. "Please do keep it quiet, dear, we want to slip out discreetly. "

Sweetiebelle nodded, sighing. "Princess stuff, huh?"

"Yes, one might say that."

"Well, I better come along and keep you out of trouble," Sweetiebelle said with an air of longsuffering. She took her shawl down from the coat rack in the hallway and threw it over her shoulders. "Where are we going?"

The royal carriage was soon clattering its way down the twilit streets of Neigh Orleans. Nopony paid them the slightest heed; the carriage, while sumptuously furnished inside, was on the outside indistinguishable from the mundane ones to be found rolling on any city street in Equestria. (The princesses, even the newest ones, weren't born yesterday.) The journey was far from quiet, though. Rarity's brief explanation for their sudden departure-- "we're going to see a very sick little filly--" had roused Sweetiebelle's inquisitive nature; she plied Southern Comfort with countless questions about the sick filly they were going to see. She inquired after the the filly's name (Sweet Peach), her age (slightly younger than Sweetie herself), and numerous other bits of trivia only interesting to a foal her age... and to a Princess who wanted to visit her. Rarity silently thanked Providence for Sweetiebelle's presence;

The carriage pulled up before a two-story house on the edge of the city. It was a far more humble abode, a cozy two-story more common among the working class of Neigh Orleans. They disembarked, and Cling Peach let them in. Her expression fretful, she led them to a bedroom up on the second story. The change in Southern Comfort's demeanor was intriguing. His gentle, genial air was gone, replaced with something firmer. He marched in, his black bag hovering in the air behind him, with a kindly smile on his face but the air of a stallion come to do battle with sickness itself.

The room was upstairs, at the end of a narrow flight of stairs and down the hall. It was dimly lit with a few glow-fly lanterns. An orange-on-peach stallion-- presumably the father-- sat watch by the bedside; even from the hallway Rarity could see the bags under his eyes. In the bed next to him was a tiny filly, sleeping restlessly. She was a unicorn filly with a pinkish peach coat and mane... or so Rarity guessed; it was hard to tell her exact coloring under the ghostly white glow covering her. Southern Comfort gave the worried father a few comforting words, then moved to the bedside, opening his bag.

Sweet Peach roused as he began taking her vitals, his instruments flitting around the bed. "Doctor Comfort?" she said.

"Yes, m'dear, it's me," Southern Comfort murmured. "Seems you're feeling a bit more peaked today, are you?" Sweet Peach nodded. "Well, we'll see if we can't find something to pep you up a bit, make you feel a bit more comfortable." Sweet Peach smiled and nodded again. "Have you been taking the medicines I left?" Sweet Peach stuck out her tongue and pulled a face, but nodded. Southern Comfort chuckled. "And you been eatin' your Mama's soup, like I said?"

"M'not hungry," Sweet Peach protested softly.

"Well you need to eat a little bit anyway," Southern Comfort chided. "You can't get better if you don't get some nourishment in your tummy, now can you?" He got a twinkle in his eye. "Tell you what; if you promise to eat up the next bowl of soup your mama brings up, I have a little surprise for you..."

Sweet Peach looked intrigued. "Okay...?" she said.

Southern Comfort looked over his shoulder. "Your Highness? Do come in, would you?"

Rarity fixed a smile on her face and stepped through the door into the light. The round-eyed expression of wonder that bloomed on the little filly's face, Rarity thought, was worth the trip across half a continent. "Hello, dear," she said. "I heard you were feeling under the weather and thought you might like a visit."

"Princess Rarity," Sweet Peach breathed.

"And Duchess Sweetiebelle," Rarity added. "Come on in, Sweetie."

Sweetiebelle tip-hoofed in and gave a shy wave. "H'lo," she said.

The sick little filly squeed with delight.

Rarity's visit certainly pepped up Sweet Peach, at the very least. The faintly glowing filly spent the next half-hour peppering the Princess of Generosity and her sister with questions and excited chatter while the doctor examined her. Eventually the excitement proved too much for her, and she dropped off into slumber almost the moment Southern Comfort's examination ended.

Rarity had done what little she could to contribute; after years of caring for Sweetiebelle, she'd learned quite a few cantrips for fighting colds, detecting fevers,  and treating sniffles, infections, allergies, rashes, and other foalhood ailments.But she was no healer--- she could only make the empty gesture, waving her glowing horn over the little filly and hoping for some... some burst of alicorn inspiration. But in the end... nothing.

Once Sweet Peach drifted off, Rarity, Sweetie and Southern Comfort crept out, leaving the careworn parents to tuck their daughter in. They reconvened downstairs in the living room.

"So, what is she sick with?" Sweetie asked the genteel doctor.

The doctor's face wrenched a bit, his mustache screwing up on his face. "We aren't sure," he confessed. "We call it Foxfire Fever-- due to the glow, of course. There are about a dozen cases in the city; little Sweet Peach is the most severe. It isn't contagious, that much we know...magic scrying shows it's no germ or infection... but that's all we know. The patient simply grows weaker and sicker, with little appetite, little energy. Becomes bedridden and feverish.  A faint glow appears around the patient's body, almost like a swamp light, concentrating at the hooves, wingtips or horn. It gets brighter and brighter as the disease progresses. Sweet Peach's little horn almost looks like a birthday candle now..." He looked at Rarity. "I know it's presumptuous of me, your Highness... but is there any chance your magic--"

Rarity felt her lightened mood at the filly's joy turn to a cold lump. "I... I'm sorry, Southern Comfort," she said. "I've only been an alicorn for a few short weeks.... even if my gifts as the Alicorn of Generosity laid in those directions, I barely have any higher magical education..." the look of disappointment on his face broke her heart.

He gave the two an apologetic look. "The bayou is a strange place; every now and then some odd ailment pops out of the swamp-- It shouldn't surprise me you haven't heard the like before."

Rarity pursed her lips. "Actually, we've had a run-in with more than one odd ailment over the  years," she said with wry amusement. Poison Joke came to mind. "Thank goodness for Zecora-- and for Twilight, when... Of course," she said aloud.

Southern Comfort cocked an eyebrow. "Beg pardon?"

"My good Doctor, I may not be able to help you myself," Rarity said, "But darned if I don't know a passel of ponies who can. I have not yet begun to fight." She pulled out her compact and flipped it open. She cleared her throat and spoke into it. "Twilight Sparkle," she said.

The compact glowed. The good Doctor jumped when a feminine voice came out of it. "Hello Rarity," Twilight's reflection said. "What's up?"

"Something dreadfully important, Darling," Rarity said. "We need that big beautiful brain of yours. You might want to, ah, 'get on the horn' with the others-- especially Fluttershy--- and oh yes, the Princesses... and can you figure out some way to get to Zecora through these things?"

"I... think I can figure something out, yes," Twilight said.

"Well then do get on it, dear," Rarity said. "There's a little filly who needs our help!"

1)Jade Blossom had that effect on people. She was of Neighponese descent, with an ink-blue mane, golden coat and delicate angled features of her homeland. She seemed to take delight in playing up the 'exotic deadly she-ninja' stereotype to the hilt... almost as much as she loved opening her mouth and utterly destroying it with her Appleoosan accent. Next Chapter: Chapter 21 Estimated time remaining: 3 Hours, 57 Minutes