I fumbled through my saddlebags with my telekinesis and managed to find my keys at the bottom. I withdrew them without much effort and inserted it into the door in front of me before I walked into my small house.
I put my saddle bags into the corner and then went to turn on the lamps by hoof, as I always found it strangely relaxing to not just rely on my horn. That doesn’t mean I didn’t levitate the letters which were sitting by the doorstep over to me, though.
I flicked through them; distractedly noticing that most of them were energy and water bills, which I knew I could have a discussion with an old acquaintance to take of that, when I saw a distinctive letter. I almost squealed with excitement as I saw it and recognized the magical signature which was smothered all over it.
I sat down on my couch next to a lamp I had just for reading and opened the seal on the envelope before starting to read the letter.
There has been an issue which has been troubling me since I was about eight years old. The restoration of nerve fiber, as it considered to be an impossible task since the brain will not accept any alternatives and therefore other ponies decided to give up.
I was not, however, an ordinary pony; and I knew that I could find a way to do it and after I swiftly departed from my home due to circumstances I do not want to think of.
I started to look for anything that even attempted to attempt to regenerate the tissue and I found nothing. None of the races even had an idea how to fix the damned things and I was utterly trumped. That is, until about three months ago.
I went to help a family located near the southern border of Equestria in a quaint little town named Hot Hoof (to be honest, I thought the inhabitants were messing around with me, but apparently the creator of the town stood in a hot patch of sand when deciding the town's name) and to my uttermost surprise I discovered the family was composed solely of changelings.
After a tense moment and a tense-er discussion, I discovered that the changelings were on the run from their own hive and just wanted to settle into the town. I described my own forced banishment from society and we started talking in friendlier terms.
It was basic conversation at first and coincidently we got into the discussion of pony conversion.
Apparently the changelings had the ability to convert a pony, if it was willing, into a changeling as long as they had the right chemicals. This meant that all ailments of the pony would not be transferred into the new body as it was effectively creating a new body.
I knew that I finally had my answer but I also knew that a lot of work had to be done to make sure that the pony wasn't actually turned into a changeling. Therefore, I needed data.
The changelings and I arranged a deal: if I resurrected their fallen companions, then then they would try to find all of the information they could get their hooves on about the conversion process and the biology of the changelings.
In their last letter they had mentioned that they had found a potential source which should allow me to get all of the information I needed to try and creating an apparatus and cure.
As it turned out, they had managed to come through.
I looked through the huge amount of data and started to formulate the plan in my mind about how I could even attempt to implement the spells and get enough data to consider making this a viable option.
I even considered pulling out my legal identity of Doctor Mia Grain (although it was a risk using this name considering it was a pun of a medical issue. I just couldn't resist myself) and sending the blueprints and data over to the University of Trussville and let them do it without threatening myself when suddenly I heard a short but high pitched noise hum through the air.
The average pony might’ve ignored the sound, but I immediately recognized it and put the documents down on the table while walking into my bedroom to put a hoof down behind my wardrobe to retrieve the book resting behind it.
I looked at the leather tome I pulled out and almost got tingles feeling the texture.
It was interesting that I got shivers holding a dead object considering the amount of time I had spent around dead ponies in a nearly daily basis, but maybe it was because the way the body was disfigured, or perhaps it was just a product of how I was brought up. I opened it to land on the page which was alerting my presence.
While I had been working on medical magic during my time under Celestia, I made sure that I had read on the other schools of magic that were available to me (even though I didn't look into depth about them), which lead me to find out that when it came to telepathic spells, it was possible to intercept them if you had an adept unicorn who just managed to find the line between the two ponies.
After I decided to leave home I realized that those I had saved could be used to send me information about others who had fallen to their own mortality but I had to find a way to let them communicate with me and I couldn't use telepathy for the reason of being able to easily found and also telepathy required a high level unicorn to cast.
I decided to go north and find the reindeer as I knew that they used runic magic, due to the fact that ley lines would pull it in. After convincing them that my reasons were pure, even if they disliked my methods, they gave me the tome and said that any being that had a certain rune could use this as form of communication and as virtually zero ponies in Equestria actually used runes then the communication channels were entirely clear.
I saw a message being written into the last page:
“Dear Ms. Bones,
I had hoped that I wouldn't require your assistance again but due to the tightened political circumstances my family has been attacked leaving my son gravely injured, as well as my daughter. I had hoped that you could perhaps treat their injuries.
If you could arrive here as speedily as you possibly can and assist us; I guarantee a sum of five thousand bits will be paid to you, not to mention any travel expenses that appear on your way here.
Yours Truly,
Lord Sunfeather.”
I almost giggled at my old identity of Baroness Bones being mentioned and remembered that it almost had been five years since I had last seen Sunfeather.
I looked at the book again and sighed, knowing that I wouldn't have any time to work on the nerve project, before I go to my bathroom to go grab some black mane dye.
It took me almost two days of traveling to reach the borders of Griffonstone since I decided to take a pony-drawn carriage. The last time I attempted to take the train I forgot to put a disguise on and almost got spotted by some guards. Even though I knew I was disguised, the experience reminded me that I couldn’t be too careful.
I managed to arrive at Lord Sunfeather and mine’s pre-arranged meeting spot, where I met a group of griffon guards waiting for me.
"Good evening, gentlegriffs," I said courteously, giving a small bow of my head.
"Baroness Bones, right?" one of the guards asked with that tone of rushed annoyance that could only be achieved while standing still by a griffon.
"Yes, I’m glad to see I am recognized this time. The last time was such a hassle," I said with a huff at the end.
"Please show us your Cutie Mark for identification," the guard asked with indifference to my statement.
I lifted the backside of my robe to show them my Cutie Mark in an act that would make proper Canterlot mares faint, and made the guards nod at each other.
"Alright, come this way Ms. Bones, we have a chariot waiting for you," the guard said.
I followed the guards across the border of Griffonstone and mounted a griffon-drawn chariot which quickly took me to the city of Griffonstone, which was named the same as the country in a clear showing of why it’s a bad idea to ask a griffon to name your child. I watched the griffons below watch me with varying looks of emotion as I headed towards the mansion. Some were somewhat afraid, most looked distrustful.
“After the attack, we’re pretty worried about strangers,” one of the guards answered before I could ask.
“Lord Sunfeather mentioned something about political tensions in his message. What is happening, if I may ask?” I asked.
“A new group of radicals has risen in Griffonstone who are attempting to overthrow the lords and instate a new political system or some crock like that,” the guard says with a hint of venom showing through his calm demeanor.
I make sure to not mention anything else. I make sure to always remain neutral when it comes to these situations, I really can't afford to lose any potential allies, while also making sure that I don't work with a biased mind when I’m trying to do heal my patients and therefore don't accidentally harm them.
We eventually landed after another five minutes, which lead to us walking over to the doors of the large mansion where one of the guards tapped on the door with one of his claws.
After about thirty seconds a griffon answers the door and says to us "Good evening, gentlegriffs, I am afraid my master is indisposed at the moment, so if you could possibly wait until he gets his affairs in order," he spoke in a monotone yet fluent voice.
“We are here by request of your Master; we have a pony by the name of Baroness Bones,” the guard said, his gruff voice marking a contrast against the servant.
The butler looked down at me for a few moments before speaking “Welcome back, Ms. Bones. I shall take her off your claws. And guards? I apologize for my impolite behavior.”
The butler led me through the mansion. After a small and slightly awkward silence formed between us, he spoke to me again "Ms. Bones, it is wonderful to see you again. Although I do wish it were under better circumstances."
“A doctor is only needed under negative circumstances and my line of work is the most negative of the lot,” I replied with a sigh.
Some days I wonder if I could have been content with simply curing cancer, but nooooo! I just had to go further and cure death!
“Considering that you are the only individual in your line of work; it must be difficult to keep up,” the butler replied.
“It was tiring at first, but you do it for a few years and you just get used to it.”
“When was the last time you took a break?” the butler asked, cracks of concern showing through his calm shell. Say whatever you want about ninety percent of griffons everywhere, but this one was a saint.
“I think it was when I was about twelve. I can't really afford to allow for a break, considering…” I replied with a calm shrug and leaving the
last word floating between us.
Eventually, the butler went into a room. A few moments later, he returned
"My master offers his sincerest apologies that he cannot meet you at this second as he is about to have an unplanned meeting with the rest of the lords,” the butler dipped his head apologetically “He says that he is having the patients brought here tomorrow and you can stay in one of the rooms of the manor.”
I was then lead to a mostly empty room, where I bid the butler goodbye and I settled in for a night with my other work.