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// Party Like it's... What Year is it Again? 
// Story: The Substitute Demon 
// by Reykan 
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	It was not a pleasant task, washing himself after his expedition. The bath was cold, the cultists didn't have much in the way of hygiene tools, and soap was apparently a luxury here. They had some soap, yes, but with how many times he had to cycle out the bath water to get the blood out of his fur, it wasn't worth using until he was certain he'd gotten all of the blood out. Walking down the empty hallways from the infirmary, he shuddered at the memory. That poor bath tub, it would probably be stained red. Those poor brushes, they'd be trash if they weren't the only set he had. That poor unicorn he'd tasked with helping him remove the gore, traumatized if the look in it's eyes was anything to go by. Those poor pegasi he'd had making multiple trips for more clouds for bath-water. The only positive of the situation was that there was a drainage duct connected to the bathing area, so the filthy water didn't have to be dumped out the window.





Ted scrubbed and washed, used magic to remove the bits that still stuck to him, and eventually even had one of the cultists that had helped set up his bath checking his wings for more bits of gore, but he couldn't get it out fast enough. The adrenaline that had kept him going, and the mission that had distracted him was over, and he'd snacked on a few fruits to sate his hunger while traveling, but now there were no more distractions, just the horrid feeling that he'd never be clean again.
'Oh my god, I think I still have some in my mouth.' Grabbing the toothbrush off of the wash-basin for the fifth time in an hour, the alicorn once again set to brushing the ichor out of his teeth, the poor unicorn he'd grabbed looking even greener around the gills as it pulled yet another bloodied scale out of the alicorn's feathers. 





Visiting the infirmary had been even less pleasant, but the process of getting his wing reset only took about three minutes. The doctor, Head Trauma, was unsurprisingly as crazy as Ted had assumed, though the earth pony stallion had the wing sitting in it's proper place with minimal effort. It was the conversation afterwards where the doctor had freaked Ted out.





The wing didn't take Head Trauma long to reset, and while the doctor set Ted up with a sling, the earth pony was only too happy to discuss his favorite medical practices.
"Ah'm telling ya, there's nothing better than leeches fer sickness. Those little fellas are the closest thing to a cure-all ya'll ever find, yer' darkest-ness! Small, easy to care for, and they don't ask ya for nuthin' but love, see?" The stallion stuck his hoof into a jar full of murky water and removed it only to reveal his pets, about twenty leeches writhing around while latched onto the hoof. "Ah use them every day, last time Ah was sick was five years ago!"
Watching the disgusting display, Ted managed to suppress his gag reflex. It was a good thing he'd held off heading to the dining hall until later, as his stomach had nothing to lose. A thought occurred to him watching the things inflate. "How are you not passing out from blood loss?"
"Passing out from blood loss? That's silly, what idiot told ya that would happen if ya used leeches? No, Ah've been keeping my cuties fed this way for about six years, never had any issues, though there are more of them now than there used to be. It's strange, so many ponies come by saying things like that, you really should look into getting that rumor dispelled."

Ted was speechless. 'This is our doctor? This is the guy we trust our lives to if something goes wrong? Oh sweet singing stars, just how badly staffed are we?' "While I understand you love your little, er, pets-"
"Damn right Ah do, why does everpony hate 'em? They're adorable!"
"-I ask that you keep that as a last resort, Trauma. Uh, no need to use that kind of treatment on everyone."

The stallion watched him for a moment, before breaking out into a grin "Oh... Oh I see, save the best for last! Gotcha, your darkness-est-nish. Won't be letting just anypony get this kinda treatment unless they're on deaths door. Though it will mean Ah'll have to feed 'em mahself a bit more often." Nuzzling the mass, one of the leeches latched onto his nose. Undeterred, he cooed at the blood-suckers. "No I don't mind that at all, no I don't. Who's mah favorite squishy? You are! Yes you are... yes you are.'

Ted slowly walked out of the infirmary, doing his best not to draw the attention of the doctor from his pets. The next chance he got, he was going to find out if any of the other cultists had knowledge of medical practices, and if none did, well, there was always kidnapping, right? Better a doctor that was actually sane that may resent them than that thing in there.





All the trauma aside, mental or physical, his ponies were fed, and he'd learned several valuable lessons. Patched spells are bad, snakes are squishy on the inside, fur is much harder to clean than skin, and ponies are crazy. Actually, that last one wasn't something he could judge, seeing as the only thing stopping him from devolving into a brain stew was bubblegum, duct tape, and happy thoughts. 

Eventually the alicorn managed to wander into the dining hall as the nightly meal was being served. The room was fairly spartan, a buffet of greens set out on the right side of the room, tables that reminded him of picnic benches set up throughout the rest of the long room. Ponies sat in groups all over the hall. All except one.

At the far end of the dining hall, on a raised throne, sat Shadow Weaver. Truthfully it didn't surprise Ted that the guy would set himself up as higher than everyone else, what surprised him was the sheer audacity the guy had. Seeing him on that throne, laying on his back... no, this wouldn't do at all. As he made his way to the throne, the background chatter started to die down, bringing the attention of others, leaving a cascading silence to fill the room. From what he could see, there was only one throne, and Shadow had made it clear that the cultists saw Ted as some type of dark god. Hell, his current form was probably due to the alicorn magic used to create the armor, as he was fairly certain humans had no magic of their own. That combined with the worlds celestial mechanics, that it was alicorns that guarded the solar cycles, and his presence was basically viewed with the same awe as Thor appearing in a burst of lightning in downtown Chicago.

So why the hell did Shadow have a throne, and where the hell was his? If you're going go so far to play the cultist, at least go the extra mile and set up a throne higher up than yours. Even if it's only symbolic, you showing that you're just ruling until your god is returned. Maybe set it at the right side of the higher throne, putting yourself as your rulers right-hand man? Instead, the guy had set himself up as the ruler, and was sitting his lazy butt on a throne while gorging himself while Ted was out there getting intimately familiar with what snakes smell like. Here's a hint, they smell worse on the inside!

Finally reaching the throne, he stood just in front of it, waiting for some type of reaction from the cultist. Shadow didn't disappoint him.

"Why are you in my light? I'm trying to enjoy my meal, peon. Unless you have something to report it can"

"Peon, you say?" Ted asked with a toothy grin. Oh he was going to enjoy this. 

Shadow Weaver nearly jumped out of the seat, scrambling into a seated position. "Y-your Malevolence! What a surprise to find you here!" Before the Unicorn could say anything more or leave the throne it became enshrouded in a dark aura, and raised up off of the ground.

"May I ask, Shadow, why your throne is so high? And tell me, little pony, if you are truly just a follower; where is the throne higher than yours?" Dumping the unicorn out of the throne, Ted set it back on the dais, before walking over the sputtering cultist. It was a bit higher than he would have liked, but he wasn't in the mood to try fixing that at the moment. Sitting his exalted behind down on the lordly cushions, he turned back to the dining hall, and while he enjoyed the now familiar warring emotions playing across Shadow Weaver's face, it was the other inhabitants that made his day. Every eye in the room was on him, at least until he looked back to the hall. After doing so, most of the cultists immediately dropped into bows, some merely lowering their heads, others outright leaving their seats and prostrating themselves on the floor. 'Okay, that's cool, but enough of that'	"Aren't you here to eat? Isn't that what we went out today for, to make sure we had food? Eat. Shadow, did the chef know how to prepare the steak?"

"Yes, your darkness," the slightly flustered Weaver responded, before turning to a serving pony. "The master wishes to enjoy his meal. Tell Slop to make sure it's ready." Deciding it was better to cut his losses, the head cultist made his way for the exit, only to be stopped by his name being called.

"And Shadow Weaver? Don't let me catch you doing this again. If you claim to lead those gathered here in my service, you will not place yourself above me. Are we clear?"

The unicorn shifted uncomfortably, every eye in the hall still watching the exchange. "Yes your highness." He said, before turning and leaving the dining hall.
Looking around at the still silent dining hall, Ted asked "Is there a rule against enjoying yourselves?" He waved a hoof at them dismissively. "Go back to your meals."

By the time his steak arrived, the dining hall had surpassed its previous volumes, with several more ponies filtered in, all hoping to catch a view of their leader. Some of them even broke out drinks which Ted was fairly sure were alcoholic. As the server brought the dish to him and uncovered it, Ted's mouth was watering. Finally, some decent meat. Sure some of the ponies looked downright horrified when Ted tucked in to his meal, but it didn't bother him. No, whoever said revenge was a dish best served cold had no clue what they were talking about. It was best served piping hot with a light basil garnish.

'Oh, wait. Maybe not all of them heard about yesterday. If so there's a good chance that some of them think it's a kid on my plate. Eh, I'll take care of it later.'

The adoration of the ponies amused Ted, in a strange way. Part of him had no idea what he should be doing here, kept telling him 'You're a frackin' normal guy stuck on an alien world. You are losing your mind!' But there was another part, the part he'd been relying on more often than he'd like to admit. Luna was a ruler of ponies for centuries, and even if she wasn't as popular as her sister, she still knew how to get the job done. She knew how to carry herself in front of her subjects. He'd have to thank her one day, if he ever found a way to break the news to her. Actually, now that he thought about it, what was his relationship with her? Technically his current form was the result of the Nightmare stealing her alicorn magic. Wonder how that conversation would go. 'Hey your highness, I know this is weird, but magically and genetically speaking, I'm the son of the thing that possessed you and lead to you fighting your sister and almost destroying the planet. Technically it means I'm your son as well. Hi, kinda-my-mom!' Yea, that should be fun. In the meantime, he'd definitely have some questions for the lunar alicorn when he next saw her.