A Suitable Punishment:
Color me Chromatic
Red
Jaarxithan growled as his consciousness returned to him. His entire body ached and tingled. It felt like he had fought a thunderstorm with all his might and lost. Like all his muscles tensed to the extremes by lightning and now he was feeling the aftermath of sore and nearly torn tendons and fibers and the left over tingle of an electric charge.
This feeling wasn't exactly new, he had fought a bronze dragon a century ago, it's ability to spit out lightning gave him a clear frame of reference, though the intensity of this pain was marginally more uncomfortable.
Was he ambushed? No, that wasn't possible, he had spent over a decade setting up spells and enchantments just to prevent that. And that wasn't to mention the contraptions spread about his layer and his loyal minions. He was no wyrmling, his great uncle had suffered a fate of not being overly cautious and had his heart removed in his sleep. Jaarxithan would not follow in the fools example. He would have been at least alert to the presence of foolhardy adventurers trying to take the hefty bounty on his head and his hoard.
So why was it that he couldn't remember anything? His head throbbed as if someone and bashed him with a mountain several times, his thoughts working hard to fight the pain.
Last thing he remembered was grilling his latest acquisition (roasted villager was always a treat,) and then blank. Nothing.
Jaarxithan struggled unto his hooves to stand upright and dignified. He was a red dragon after all, fearsome creature of fire and sky, he wasn't going to take this lying down just because of a little pain. He grunted again as he almost fell back down on shaky legs.
Okay, a lot of pain. Still, he needed to gather at least some information on his surroundings, he could be stuck in a ditch or captured by some unknown enemy. Anger swelled at the thought, and he struggled with more force to stand up on his hooves.
Hooves, that word again. His mind grew puzzled. Why did he keep thinking his magnificent claws were hooves, that be plain silly. He ventured to looked down, grumbling about how his head must be more jostled than previously thought.
Hooves. His eye's looked down and saw a pair of deep red, fur-covered, not-his-own-fearsome-and-majestic-claws, hooves.
His brain, unable to comprehend anything at the moment, went silent as his eyes began examining himself.
Hooves, front and back, no scales, just deep red fur, a tail of hair, a body of surprisingly muscular but devoid of any reptilian features, and a severe lack of wings.
Trembling, whether through his still aching body or pure shock, his eye's surveyed the room.
It was spacious, the floor neat and tidy, covered in white marble tiles. A large bath full of water sat neatly in the corner, the rim and faucet highly decorated with elegant designs. If Jaarxithan had been in his right mind, he might have considered it for his horde. The room also contained a large shelf with a smaller faucet, it also containing fine craftsmanship. The shelf was littered in what Jaarxithan considered to look like various potions and brews, labeled in a language he did not recognize. One last devise was a strange dip in the far corner of the hall, next to a roll of toilet paper. Jaarxithan had no idea what that was.
Overall, the room looked like a lavatory belonging to a noble or a King. This would have certainly put the red dragon on high alert, warning him of great danger considering his position if he could think. Instead, all this lazily passed through his mind and out the back exit. His mind could echo, so devoid of thought he was in his current state.
He walked on over to a wall, noting the last feature of the room. A full bodied mirror. He looked. He did not like what he saw.
In his place stood a horse. A deep red, black maned, stocky, horse, with enormous round eyes, a gaping mouth, roughly well defined and rectangular muzzle. Only thing that he recognized as his own was his eyes, his reptilian yellow eyes.
The next thing he did would have made him a laughing stock to all dragon kind outwardly, but everyone secretly would admit it was a completely logical and rational reaction, and they would have done it to given the circumstances, but would never, even under threat of torture, admit it.
He let out a cry that resembled a sound that a human adolescent female would make when in incredible distress.
................................................................................
Princess Celestia sat on her bed, engrossed in the latest national best seller: One flew over the Gryphon nest. She seldom got a chance to spend some alone time to catch-up on her reading, running a country tended to keep one quite busy, but when she did, she loved to have her quiet moments engrossed in a book.
It was a trait she shared with her student, Twilight Sparkle. She used to read to her when Twilight was a filly, the nostalgic memory made her give a short sigh. Twilight had recommended this novel to her, and Celestia was very eager to give herself something that would give her a chance to reconnect to Twilight after all her time spent in Ponyville. A good book fit the job description perfectly, without seeming toooooooooooo desperate. By Faust was she lonely.
Luna was busy with the night court, leaving so little time to spend with each other, especially when one slept mostly while the other was awake, and the guards weren't great conversationalists, to nervous or to stoic to give more than short answers to her attempts to start small talk between court duties and during paper work.
As she reached the end of the second chapter, the high pitched scream echoed around her, a sound the castle staff could here from the farthest corners of the enchanted architecture. Celestia barely managed to cover her ears with her hooves to protect her eardrums, later she had the castle physician make sure there wasn't any permanent damage.
Celestia turned alarmed to the source of the sound, her own royal restroom. Two guards burst into the room, on high alert. "Princess Celestia, are you alright? What made that noise, it sounded like a filly screaming bloody murder!"
Celestia just pointed to her restroom.