Mancala

by Schismatism

Minimalism

From the very moment I woke up, I knew I would be very upset for the rest of the day.

*Beep*

Being somewhat less cruel than your average hospital staff member - at least, after having to deal with several old farts in one day - I shan't subject you to the vast array of beeps, twitches, twinges, catheter pulses, IV occlusions (and those are the fun ones!) and everything else intrinsic to the experience. Though I do have to wonder how ponies came up with such equipment.

*Beep*

That being the full array of such an experience, I invite you, fine folks, to consider precisely how well I might have taken it to be part of such a remarkable journey once again.

*Beep*

Yes, that was more or less it.

---

The oft-characterized sight of waking up to 'all one's friends and family members' upon regaining consciousness in a hospital is, of course, a lie perpetrated and perpetuated by the medical and film industries. It doesn't happen. When you're asleep, people have jobs to attend to, families to care for, and of course their own lives to live.

In accordance, I woke to an empty room - well, nearly empty, at least. The bed: hospital regulations, upon which I'd been placed on a set of cushions, standard affair for pegasi or those beings with wings, so as to preclude further damage thereto. The clock: a straightforward round, monochrome affair, the ticking thereof offering a counterpoint to the IV fluid draining into my foreleg. And, of course, the calendar, onto which my slightly disjointed eyes immediately latched.

21 Septima, 995 CE, it read.

The ECG started to beep.

---

Some minutes later, after the nurses had expertly determined that no, I was not having a heart attack, and yes, the pulse had likely originated when I awoke and found myself in a hospital bed - a fine lie if I do say so myself - I had wheedled myself a small glass of water, a better reclining position, and one of the books from the famed hospital cart. Sadly, it wasn't Daring Do and the Sapphire Stone, as I'd blithely hoped, but an airport dime-store thriller by an author named only 'Persimmons'. Three pages in, I'd identified the villains. Five pages in, I had steadfastly resolved to use whatever wealth I collected in the future to rid hospitals of junk like this and get them actual literature. Ten pages in, I closed the book, set it aside, and went to my own thoughts. They were much more original, after all.

Going in order of importance, then, by 'things most likely to affect me next'. First, what had happened in that library? The Books and Branches Public Library should not, would not have been anathema to me. And yet, practically the very moment I'd set hoof in that place, I'd blacked completely out. I'd even tasted something sour before I fell unconscious, though that might well have been bile of some sort.

With a quiet nod, I resolved to test that locale somehow, with some safety protocols in place. Whatever was going on there, knowledge is power, and I knew that I'd need quite a lot of knowledge to get started with anything, anything at all.

Second point of note: why the heck were these twelve gems and that peculiar bangle still attached to my left foreleg? I might not be entirely familiar with hospital practices, but I knew full well that jewelry and most devices which could cut off circulation were immediately detached upon a patient's admittance, and so...

Well, this was a mystery I knew I could solve right off the bat, or rather have someone else solve for me, and so I lightly tapped the Nurse Call button to the side of my bed.

---

The Earth Pony nurse went through the motions of checking to ensure that all my fittings were correct, asked me the requisite questions - to which I was very glad indeed that I had the answers - and gave me a quick checkup. My vitals were more than a little bit off, but, she recognized, that may well have been due to my nature as a changeling, and so long as they sounded alright to me, the doctor (upon her arrival) could likely sign me out.

The questions, in case you were wondering, were the average: "Do you know where you are?" (Ponyville General, of course.) "Do you know what day it is?" (7/21/995) and "Do you remember your name?"

That one might have caught me up, I'll admit. I'm wasn't certain if ponies knew whether or not changelings tended to have different names, as I certainly didn't know myself: certainly, there was 'Kevin' from episode 100, but that was a fan nickname. And Stephen Magnet, as fine a gentleman as he was, certainly didn't fit in amongst the crowd anyway. But as paperwork goes, amidst a list of pony names which might well have been Noun-Verb-Adjective, I knew for an absolute fact that 'Jen McAllen' would stick out like a sore hoof. So I just gave her the first name that came to mind:

"Divided Gem," I heard myself say.

"Z'at so?" replied Candy Striper. And yes, as the Nine are my witness, that really was her name. Someday I'm going to pressure Celestia for answers as to how pony names actually work, but the pink-and-white mare in front of me really was named just that. Still... at my encouraging nod, she let out a bit of a sigh and marked it down. "Reads better than Jane Pony again. I swear MPCC has at least fifty of them in their rooms right now." With a final underline, she set the clipboard a bit to the side. "S'long as we get paid, and you don't skip town, that's what matters. Whatcha need, hon?"

With a sigh, I looked at my hoof. "Look, if it makes any difference, that's the only name the person you're looking at has ever been called." As she blinked at my odd phrasing, I continued, "But here's the thing. I know from hospitals, and I know jewelry, watches, anything like that gets removed or cut off if at all possible, so as to preclude any potential loss of circulation in case of swelling, damage or the like. Heck, this thing," and here I poked at the white legband they put on me as a patient identifier, "slips right off if you need it to, and it's made to snap if you pull on it too tight. So what's with the twelvefold?"

Now, Nurse Candy looked really surprised. Still, she masked it well, rubbing a hoof along the back of her neck and trying more to look abashed. Could've been both, come to think. "That... I don't really know," she admitted, as though every word were being dragged out by a pair of needle-nose pliers. "Whatever that thing's made of, it's completely nonreactive. Magic slips off like water from a pegasus' wings. Knives glance off. I mean it, nothing sticks to it. Our entry staffers were pulling their manes out when they brought you in, until they finally decided to give the problem to us.

"You were only out for four hours, by the way. Those three troublemakers who brought you in, screaming something about the Everfree and toxins, had to go and report to their HQ - that's just next-door, by the way - but those four hours had us flummoxed. None of us knew even what you were, until one of our interns took one look at you, went bug-eyed as all sin... er, no offense..."

"None taken," I had to chuckle. Frankly, with all the weirdly straightforward and... non-xenophobic reactions I'd had this day, I was glad to hear someone reacting normally, or at least as normally as I expected ponies would. As for the Three Stooges... well, maybe I'd cut them a break after all. Knowing that even Scarlet and Shamrock were willing to help me out there raised them a few notches on my proverbial tower.

"Yes, well," continued the officious nurse. "He shrieked, 'changeling', and went running down the halls, screaming his fool head off. If you'd like, I can write him up for contravention of doctor-patient privilege."

"Nurse Candy Striper, you'll do nothing of the sort," I replied severely, in my best 'mom' voice. I think I pulled it off alright, because she took in a bit of a breath. "Frankly, while I'll agree that xenophobia needs to be tethered down with titanium bands, I applaud his sensibility and good judgement."

Now the nurse was looking like she wanted me sectioned. Oh, the things my mouth does to me. So I simply sighed, and started digging my hole a little deeper. "Changelings are..." I began, taking a moment to look up at the ceiling. "Not all good. Of course, not all ponies are good either, but we get a fair number more than usual. So I can't blame him for being a bit on the twitchy side."

---

"Changeling! Changeling! There's a changeling in the hospital!"

"Who let him out of the mental ward?"

"Would you believe he works there?"

"That explains it. Too much of the food there would drive anypony bonkers."

---

"And frankly," I continued, "being waltzed through Ponyville by three members of the Wild Guard, while carrying on a conversation with them... I'd be a rather silly fool to even masquerade as a pony even if I wanted to. So that's utterly out of the question. No harm, no foul, as they say back home."

Candy Striper looked, once again, quite flummoxed, and I had to give a light giggle in return, leading to the severe glare which she'd been giving me when she came in. With another sigh, I added, "Well, getting back to where we were when we went off..." I paused at the welter of w's, but finally wecogn--RECognized that I'd gotten it right. "Nopony'd managed to get this pretty little bangle off my arm?"

An eyebrow was raised at my mention of a limb I clearly did not possess, but Striper let it go as she gave the offending device a look which, for any lesser piece of fabric, would have torn it from my foreleg in sixteen separate parts. "We have, or rather had, on loan, an adamantium scalpel from the University of Canterlot. After thirteen other knives of decreasing scale were rendered blunt, we attempted to make use of it. It did not survive the attempt."

"Obsidian?" I couldn't help but ask.

"Shattered," her response entailed.

"Moon silver?"

"Sublimated."

I had to pause before I asked this last one, because there's no way, absolutely no way they would do it. "Sun steel?"

Candy gave me another look, but shook her head. "Wasn't worth the risk."

I nodded appreciatively, and gave my shiny little bangle a new look of respect. I'd had an idea that it, or at least the set of jewels attached to it, was something special and capital-I Important, but I hadn't realized to what extent this, well, extended. "I'm not sure if I'll hug the party responsible for this, or beat him until he's halfway to death, but either way, this is quite the gift."

Candy Striper gave a proper 'hmm', then asked, "You're sure it's a guy?"

I had to let out a snrk. "Who else would give a girl something this ostentatious?"

And there we had to break down in general laughter, as I recognized I might just have made another friend, however unlikely.

---

An hour later, after Candy had detached all the IVs, cleared away the ECG monitors, and generally rendered me fit to go, and I was simply waiting for a doctor's clearance to get me out of this place, who should appear but the three folks who got me to Ponyville in the first place? Of course, I was over the moon to see them, and responded by bounding out of my chair and giving them each a hug - and, in Cobalt's case, a very firm noogie, to which the Pegasus responded by flailing like a medieval weapon. I nearly landed back in the hospital bed, but I let go of the poor guy before too long.

"So, what brings you three down to this old inveterate changeling's room?" I sardonically asked, happy to see that Scarlet had brought up that old backpack. I was slightly less thrilled to see that the bag was slightly more empty than before, and a part of my mind went to the possibility that they'd recognized what my tablet and laptop were. The camera - well, that could easily be explained away, but the other two were a bit problematic. Perhaps they simply thought them a typewriter and writing pad... which, in a general way, they were. Either way, what I was not expecting was for Scarlet to levitate my two cans of diet soda over to me.

"Explain," added Cobalt, in what might have been the coldest tone I have ever heard him produce.

---

A simple gasp coming from the doorway might, might have saved my proverbial bacon were it not for the simple fact that it originated from the nurse with whom I'd just connected. Candy Striper had reasonably dropped the tray of food - food I'd been quite looking forward to, even were it hospital cuisine - upon seeing the three guardsmen bearding the lion in her own den. And I do mean hers, not mine.

However, before she could manage to summon the hospital staff, the guardsmen, and likely the Royal Guards, my mouth happened to act before my brain once more and call upon the words that would actually shut the whole disaster down. "Candy," I somehow managed to say, "May you please shut the door and close the curtains for a moment? These fine folks have a very good question they'd like to ask, and I'd rather the answer not propagate."

I think her brain shut down for a moment at hearing the Wild Guard referred to as 'fine folks', but she complied accordingly, almost on automatic, as though she was simply solving a puzzle. Secretly, I gave thanks to whatever dark gods of the administration had seen fit to give me a private room, because I knew full well that however this came out, it'd be one hell of a game-changer.

Finally, after all was as secure as could be within a hospital bedroom, even in ICU, I gave each of the four ponies sitting before me a level stare. "Alright. What do you want to know first?"

Author's Note:

Well, that escalated rather more quickly than I originally envisioned. But I think that might be for the best...

Hope you folks are enjoying things so far!