“Twilight, you have a letter from Canterlot.” Spike waddled into the library importantly, holding the elegant envelope over his head. “It looks important, and was mailed overnight, rush delivery.”
“Thanks, Spike, I’ll check it out in a moment. Put it over there. Then help me get these things ready,” Princess Twilight Sparkle gazed around the vast crystal room where row after row of bookshelves were going up. “We have our first shipment of books coming from Canterlot tomorrow.”
Later, the lavender librarian lifted the letter languidly after lunch. “So, who…. Ohmygosh!”
“You sound like Rainbow Dash did when meeting A. K. Yearling,” Spike chuckled. “Is it a math problem? A magic problem? A friendship problem?”
Twilight took a deep breath, and brought her hoof to her chest. Spike knew better than to interrupt the ritual, as Twilight calmed down and began to read.
To the honorable Princess of Friendship;
Felicitations. I regret that I am unable to contact you using a swifter means, but I have encountered someone you were seeking recently. Considering your history as a student of the arcane arts – at which we have had only limited time to discuss, regretfully – I believe this is a situation you may wish to investigate.
I have encountered a young mare by the name of ‘Trixie’ here in Canterlot under extraordinary circumstances. Immediately after receiving our magic back from that horrid scoundrel Tirek (which I understand you had more than a little to do with, my dear!), I observed her have what could only be described as a magical discharge of unprecedented magnitude. Unlike the rest of us in the area, she was not lying down but rather sitting upright at the moment – a fact that may have saved lives, as the discharge was well over most pony’s heads.
The damage it did to Horseshoe Park here in Canterlot’s South Ward was indicative that everyone is fortunate no pony was, well, incinerated.
She collapsed in pain afterwards, which is actually quite unexpected. Such a surge *should* have vaporized the poor mare. Once she could stand, my wife and I escorted her to the South Ward Arcane Clinic, and arranged for her to be seen to by a Dr. Chart. Once assured she was in good hooves, we left her in their care.
It was on leaving the clinic that I passed by one of your posters regarding ‘The Great and Powerful Trixie’, apparently missing for several months. Thus, I have dispatched this missive, along with photos of the impact of the magical discharge.
I do not know what exactly has occurred, but after seeing the poster I felt I should pass this information on to you. Magic is not my area of expertise, and I do think something very, very odd has occurred with young Miss Trixie. It would be remiss of me to not contact you.
Sincerely,
Fancy Pants, ESQ.
“It’s about Trixie!”
“So it’s just a problem?”
“SPIIIKE!”
Inhibitor rings were a horrible invention, Trixie mused. At least, the ones used on criminal unicorns were. But not the one Trixie sported now.
This one wasn’t made of metal, but expertly carved out of turquoise. Turquoise had healing properties, and promised a much more palatable result. Trixie was no expert in gemology, but she understood the basics, as any well-read magician should.
So it was with relief, rather than trepidation that Trixie allowed Dr. Chart to fit the ring, using a temporary resin to secure it at the base of her horn. The resin would hold the ring in place while the healing spell drew on her ambient, regularly generated magical ability. Also, it could be removed with a commercial cleaner, if needed. The quartz ones – not so much.
“You’ll need to keep this on at all times over the next two months, then either return here, or contact our preferred physician so we can transfer the documents. Personally, I would rather you kept close for a while, considering what happened.” Dr. Charts rose from his chair, and made annotations on the clipboard documents. “There is still an inhibition enchantment on that ring. It shouldn’t cause you pain. Exceed the power of the ring, and you’ll start feeling your headaches return. That’s your best warning you are overexerting. Back off on whatever spellcasting you are attempting at that time, and try to direct excess into the ring instead. Do you have any further questions, Miss Lulamoon?”
Trixie was taking deep breaths as the cooling power of the magic ring eased her pounding head. “No, Dr. Chart, Trix - er, I understand. It’ll be rough, but I will do what I can to make things work. Thank you.” The doctor strode on to his next patient, curious as to the odd case. Still, this sort of over-stress injury did occur, but the magnitude might be wrong. Meanwhile, a brown pegasus in an orderly coat came and escorted Trixie out, finalized her paperwork, and showed her to the lobby, before calling for the next patient.
Trixie cautiously reached for the clinic door with her telekinesis and started swinging it open, but her headache returned. With a groan, she shouldered the door instead, content to turn the knob with her magic. “Well, that’s it, isn’t it? Let’s get back and see what I can still do,” she groused, "Blasted headaches are going to make me late for my show – and it must go on.”
In the clinic, Dr. Chart was examining his next patient, an elderly but still graceful unicorn, mane shot through with gray. “Just my luck, I finally meet a handsome doctor, and he’s younger than my grandson,” the older mare giggled a bit, as the doctor checked her magic with the manameter.
“So, this is working right, guess the maintenance pony was already here,” the young doctor chuckled. “Sorry, Andromeda. You’re still reading normally – spry as a mare a third your age. You’d leave me in the dust.” The doctor was just turning to get his clipboard when there was a knock on the door. “Just a moment…”
Opening the door, Dr. Charts met a gray earth pony mare with a tool harness and crossed lightning bolts as a cutie mark. “Just got back from lunch. You needed me to check the manameter?”
With a very curious expression scrunching his features thoughtfully, Dr. Charts thought over his somewhat strange morning. “So you didn’t get to it already, Short Circuit? It worked just fine, I thought it had been fixed. The meter was pegged all morning, didn’t work on anyone until this patient.”
Short Circuit shook her head, her charcoal mane wafting over her eyes briefly as she broke out a checklist of her own. "Nope, had a list of things to do before lunch. Why would it peg out, though? No pony’s gonna read that high short of one of the Princesses. It was probably just physically stuck. Just let me know if it malfunctions again.”