The Mystery of the Iron Bird Festival

"It's hard, damn it..." the pilot groaned, pulling the plane apart piece by piece.

It turned out to be more difficult to explain than Kramarenko imagined in theory.

Who knows, maybe I look like an immoral creature now, rummaging in the entrails of my mother?

But the thought of the integrity of at least some cannon and a couple of shells did not allow him to sit freely for the whole breakfast, more like a small feast of bellies. Well, what else can you expect from nobles, even if they are kind and a little inhuman?

The first twenty-three millimeter gun was found very soon, but the mangled barrel is not subject to repair. In a word, scrap metal. The larger gun was also unlucky — it froze in the shape of a flower with uneven iron petals. The last gun. It's covered in soot and scratches, but in theory it should shoot.

Tired, the pilot sat down on more or less a whole piece of the fuselage and only then noticed that he was not alone in the hall. Lyra, a light green unicorn, has been watching all this for some time. Strange actions and sometimes expletives made her thoughtfully tap her chin with her hoof.

And what are you doing here, little thing? wiping the perspiration, the man asked a rhetorical question.

"Lyra, come here, please," and as a sign of incomprehensible words for her, he patted the iron with a dirty hand.

With a timid step, she approached him, but did not sit on the remains of the downed MiG, as Kramarenko wanted.

Oh, he respects his sanctity, he does not accept blasphemy.

Getting up from the cold iron, the pilot again began to pull out the difficult trunk, but the strength of one person was clearly not enough. Casting a pleading glance at the unicorn and pointing at the cannon with his hand, he achieved only a questioningly tilted head of the mare and uncomprehending yellow eyes.

"Eh, I won't wait for help from you," the pilot grumbled aloud, giving up trying to explain his idea.

Suddenly, with a flash of blue light, a blue mare appeared out of nowhere and joyfully saw something, jumped up to a very exhausted and frightened pilot. Ignoring Lyra, who was sitting next to her, she poked the disgruntled man and called him "Sunrise", and then pointed to herself as "Vuna".

"So. Vuna-the moon is a blue star. Stop scaring me like that, or you'll bring me to a heart attack soon!"

But, for obvious reasons, she did not understand him and also tilted her head with a questioning look. The pilot's discontent turned into irritation and he, not in a gentlemanly manner, lifted the mare in his arms. She only squeaked in surprise, but did not resist. After carrying her to the exit and putting her out the door, he turned around and went back to the business, which was not moving fast.

You see, there are all sorts of distractions here.

***

Flapping her eyes in surprise, Luna discovered that she had been kicked out. Turning around, she looked at her Son, again starting to work incomprehensibly for everyone. Maybe it was a special ritual for a funeral, and a cheerful mood is not allowed? Or did he not like the name invented by the former princesses?

Without bothering her Son, who is still nameless, Luna returned back to her sister, finding her reading romantic books.

"Was he dissatisfied with your offer?" Celestia asked without looking up from her book.

"Well, to be honest, I don't know. He was so tense and focused. It seems to me that he really grieves the death of the Iron Bird, he just hides it deep in his heart."

"Maybe," the older Alicorn muttered.

Stamping her hoof, Luna deliberately loudly protested:

"Sister! Take a little break from your romances!"

Rising, Celestia went to her younger sister and hugged her, saying:

"Come on, you said yourself that he's not a pony and he needs a special approach in education. Or did you think that everything would be like clockwork?"

"No, but..."

"So don't get upset in vain!" comfortingly ruffling the mane of the moon.

After sitting in silence for a while, enjoying each other's closeness, the white alicorn asked her question:

"And what was he doing in the hall with the remains of the Iron Bird?"

"I don't know," Luna replied sincerely.

Having finished hugging, as soon as the blue alicorn calmed down, they sat down to come up with new names to offer them to their Son to choose from again. At some point, a scroll materialized in the air and fell in front of Celestia's nose. Without hesitation, she opened it and was delighted to find the familiar handwriting of her former student.

Noticing the curious look of her sister, the white mare began to read the letter aloud:

"Dear Tia. I apologize in advance for keeping you unanswered for so long, but state affairs are sometimes urgent. You know that yourself. Last time I talked about a dead Iron Bird that recently fell in the fields and about unknown ponies who stole its remains. My guess was that the Order of the Iron Bird could do this, so dutifully loving and praising her. My personal investigation came to a dead end and on the advice of my friends, former carriers of the elements of harmony, I left the case. Knowing you and the moon, you can know more about celestial beings. If this is the case, then I will be glad to hear any hints. Twilight."

When she finished reading, Celestia looked at her thoughtful sister.

"I won't give her my foal. My memory obligingly suggests that her unhealthy curiosity may harm him."

"Well, in a way you're right, she gets to know him early. By the way, isn't it time for him to go to bed?"

Luna gratefully looked at this display of guardianship and nodded in agreement.

Without further violating the personal space of their Son, the mares went down to him on foot. After knocking, they entered the hall. He was still picking at the remains. His once-white clothes were dirty, as was he. Tired, but already in high spirits, he was sitting by a long pipe, cleaning off the carbon from it. The sisters could not afford this, but they are not celestial beings, and only one Son knows what to do with the remains.

Finally paying attention to them, he got up from the floor with a guilty smile and approached them. Guiltily bowing his head and squatting down, the Son took the hoof of the Moon in his nimble paws. Stroking the fur, he whispered one word, but understandable to everyone: sorry.

Well, how can you hold a grudge against him? With a smile on her face, Luna dived under his paw and buried her face in his broad chest.

"I forgive you," his foster mother replied just as quietly.
Pulling away, the Son pointed to himself and said:

"Seryozha."

Giggling at such an invented and stupid name, the Moon touched him again:

"Sunrise?"

Waving his paw, he sighed in displeasure.

"Sunrise, Sunrise."

Squealing joyfully, Luna quickly pulled him in and kissed him on the forehead, to which the newly minted Sunrise grinned and kissed her on the top of her head himself. Watching these endearments, Celestia almost burst into tears with emotion. All her bad hopes evaporated, leaving only the good.

"And now it's time for him to sleep and gain strength," the older sister attracted her attention, playfully pushing the Luna.

Taking him under their control, they led Sunrise into the bedroom, ignoring his resistance and attempts to stay in the hall with the remains. After all, sometimes strictness is needed in education.

***

Twilight's tail was darting from side to side, waiting for at least some action. The squad has not returned yet, and Celestia, a nasty mare and definitely a knowing mare, remains silent. For a moment, the princess wondered why it was for her that she became nasty? After all, she is a wonderful mentor who has kept the balance in Equestria for thousands of years.

An evil voice from the depths disrupted her attempts to understand what was happening, reminding her that she was the princess here and it was up to her to decide the fate of those living on these lands. That Celestia only seems good, secretly protecting her terrible skeleton in the closet. Her silly antics and eating sweets are only worthy of ridicule.

With a satisfied nod to his inner voice, which appeared recently, but so diligently forgotten by someone from what. Soon everything will change, very soon.