//------------------------------//
// Chapter 5 Part 9 
// Story: Magical Medicine 
// by yellowbastion 
//------------------------------//

You went to bed early for once but couldn’t actually fall asleep. Some stray thought was itching the back of your brain. It was a curious feeling that was trying to tell you that you forgot something. You tossed and turned for several hours trying to remember the thing you were forgetting. You were sure it was something that needed to be done. Something important. You are a sleep deprived alicorn named Twilight Sparkle.

After several hours of fitful rest the thought finally hit you like a slippery fish. You had sent the human, known to you as Anonymous, and to the city of Seaddle known as ‘The Beer Baron’, down to the castle dungeon without telling him why he would be there. At the time, you were so distracted by the ruckus he caused during his chase through Ponyville that your intended path of conversation vacated your attention completely. You were justifiably angry. 

During the invasion of Canterlot, when your BBBFF, Shining Armour and his wife, Princess Cadance, activated their spell shield to repel the invading changeling army, several things happened. The wave forcefully threw every changeling, queen included, out of Canterlot. At least the ones with a clear path to the sky. There were many who were not so lucky which ended up as unfortunate smears on various walls of buildings. Even fewer still ended up like your guest in the dungeon. You don’t want to think about the one changeling that was bisected by a park bench. 

The changeling that that you hold in cell number one of one is such an anomaly. Prince Thorax believed it was attempting to dodge the spell shield by doing what changelings do best: changing into the something different. His hypothesis was that the two very different magics collided in an uncontrolled manner. Now the poor creature has to live the rest of their life with the consequences.

As much as some ponies protest otherwise, accidents can, and often do, happen and are often unavoidable. No amount of safety training, specialized equipment or guarding can prevent every possible accident from occurring. Even if you were to add bubblewrap padding to every available surface to prevent bumping your fetlock or booping snoot you’ve created at least two new problems: a distracting noise hazard and a risk of slipping. Sometimes there is no winning and the best anypony can do is be prepared to receive and treat the injured. 

Unfortunately, it slipped your mind that you wanted to tell Anonymous he was going down to the dungeon to try to help the magically injured changeling. Now you are in a hurry. Legs pumping, wings flapping, anything to gain speed. Anonymous I could be trapped, without any instruction or even a checklist, with a potentially dangerous prisoner of war! Anything could have happened in the last several hours. He could have been attacked the moment he walked into the cell. He could be dead for all you know. Or even worse, bleeding his sticky, gross red blood all over your nice, clean floor. You are in a race against time. Oh, if only there was some magic way you could get there faster! A way for you to instantly move from one place to another. But now is not the time to stop and think, now is the time for action!

You round the final corner to the door that leads to the dungeon only to run face-first into somepony’s tail, causing you both to tumble to the floor in a pile of limbs. You hear a murmur of voices as you stagger back up on to your hooves.

“W-what?” You ask the line of ponies standing in front of the door. You count six, including the one you knocked over, who was still sprawled out of the floor. 

“W-who?” Six ponies you don’t recognize standing in front of the only access point to your secure holding area. The mystery ponies were wearing white, ruffled sashes of some sort around their necks that draped along the length of their body and down their legs to hang just above their fetlocks. On their heads they wore simple crowns made out of some kind of small, green leaves. 

“W-why?” Your speech therapy has failed you and your stutter has returned. Great, exactly what you don’t need: difficulty communicating just when you desperately need information. You’ll have to figure out why they are here at a later time. You still needed to get to the human. You scramble past the line and, with a quick bolt of magic, burst through the door leaving it in flinders. 

Your voice died in your throat. The normally sparse room was decorated in columns and arches reminiscent of ancient Romane times, sootless flickering torches, and hanging ivy. Somehow, the room is full with even more similarly dressed ponies. Many of them were holding bronze goblets or clay plates of food. You could hear somepony playing beautiful music on a lyre. They all stopped what they were doing to stare at you. Amongst the crowd you could see the faces of all your closest friends and Rarity.

You finally found your voice, “I want every pony out! All of you! Get out!”

“Looks like the party is over, darlings.” Said Rarity. 

“Awww…” said many of the unexpected guests who then started filing out of the room.

“Come on, everypony. Let’s move this to Sugarcube Corner!” A familiar bubbly voice said.

“Yay!”, “Ye-haw!”, and “Woo hoo!” other familiar voices replied. Your friends are some of the strangest, most frustrating, and greatest ponies that you know of. Maybe later you’ll ask them about what went on here but, for now, you had an otherworldly creature to verbally accost. Fortunately for you he is still in his cell, even with the door being wide open. You march up to the open door, grit your teeth and do your best not to scream in anger. 

“Care to explain yourself!?” You snarl. 

The infuriating human was reclined in a pile of pillows, wearing the same garb as the other partygoers, complete with a green leafed crown. Stretched out beside him and laying across his lap was the changeling. It was also dressed in a similar white body covering but it either didn’t have a leaf crown or it was missing. Anonymous waved one of his oddly shaped hands at you. 

“Oh, hey Twi-twi. I’d invite you to my toga party but somebody called the poe-poe and had it shutdown. Help yourself to the buffet. There are lots of apple things but you should really try the large purple grapes. They’re pretty good.”

You couldn’t believe the sheer audacity of the lumbering oaf. You loved parties and he didn’t even think to invite you! And everypony knows that the best fruit to eat in Ponyville are apples. Who even eats grapes? They’re awful! 

“I left you alone for only five hours. How did you get all those ponies in here and where did all this stuff come from?” You ask. 

“Pinkie Pie,” was his reply, as if that was somehow a real answer that made any reasonable amount of logic. Sure. Fine. Whatever. You don't know how she does many of the things she does and you’re not looking to have another piano dropped on your head, immortal alicorn or not. You brush it off as ‘Pinkie being Pinkie’.

The changeling seems to be doing much better now, which is why you sent Anonymous down here in the first place, and Anon isn’t bleeding all over your floor. You delegated like a proper Princess. You’ll call that a win. But now you have a new mess to deal with and, more importantly, beauty sleep to get back to. 

“Well, what are you still doing here?” You ask. 

“I’m under arrest, remember?” Your overly relaxed, unwanted guest responds. 

“Not any more. You’re free to go.” You state in a more concise manner. 

“Cool cool cool, but what about my little friend here?” Anonymous ruffles the changeling’s mane with his hand. 

“Anon, I’m angry and I’m tired. I don’t want to deal with this right now. Take them with you for all I care. Please go.”

“Are you sure? Like, they’re not also under arrest or something?”

“No, Anon. Get out.”

“What about…”

“I said OUT!”  With practiced ease, you quickly charge your horn and fire, teleporting the human, changeling, and the entire pile of pillows to the castle foyer.

You briefly wonder what happened to the guards that were supposed to be assigned to guard the dungeon but that’s a problem for future Twilight. Right now, all you want is to go back to sleep. 

“Uh, can we get a little help here?” You hear your number one assistant ask. 

Your ears perk up as your eyes follow the sound of his voice and you look up. You’ll get back to sleep eventually, but first you need to remove the changeling resin adhering Spike and the two missing guards to the ceiling. This is going to be a long night.