The Mystery of the Iron Bird Festival

Kramarenko did not like to leave things unfinished, even if his strength was at the limit. Such a case was the abandoned parts of an unfinished cannon of a broken MiG. The mares simply ignored his indignation and dragged him to bed, deciding that their child needed rest. They even came up with a name, having laughed at the real one before. Now officially the name Sunrise will be with the pilot until the end of these adventures.

No matter how hazy the future was, he hoped for one outcome — returning home. And that hope will die with the fighter pilot.

But before going to bed, Vuna and Tia, as the white pony introduced herself, thoroughly washed the dirty man. Fatigue, coupled with a hot bath, gave its effect and the body itself demanded a good rest in the crib. They put him to bed in a motherly way, after giving him a final kiss on the head, the ponies left him alone.

"Just like nannies," the pilot said, pulling a feather-light blanket up to his neck.

Soon, the dream found Kramarenko, plunging him into beautiful and colorful visions. The foliage rustled softly outside the open window, fresh air with notes of flowers pleasantly hovered in the room. The pilot was awakened by a knock on the door. Turning his head sleepily and discovering that it was still the middle of the night, he muttered something unintelligible about ponies and their excessive guardianship. The knocking was repeated, and this time louder. Someone did not wait for the door to be opened to him and entered the bedroom of a foreign guest himself. Vuna was standing on the threshold. Her usual mane, gathered in a ponytail, was loose and fell to the floor.

"..." she said.

Her voice was irritable and impatient, but the pilot failed to understand the essence of what was said. She usually behaved respectfully and lovingly, without giving out too malicious intonations towards her adopted child.

Sitting on the bed and leaning his hands on the soft mattress, Kramarenko waited for more understandable explanations from the night guest. She stood opposite and spoke again. Wearily rubbing his eyes, the pilot shrugged, hoping for an understanding of this gesture of the body. In the falling light of the moon, it seemed to the man as the once beautiful blue eyes flickered with a sickly green light. Blinking, everything was gone, but there was an unpleasant aftertaste. Vuna frowned again, her lips trembled and it was as if a chasm had formed between the two beings. There was silence, so ominous and loud, as if death itself was treading on the ground. Under the undershirt, near the neck, it became violently hot. Looking away from the strange Vuna, the pilot saw how the medallion with the symbol of the Moon, presented to her, glowed with a dim light and was restlessly heated by the presence of…

No, it's not Vuna. This incomprehensible and terrible creation was not her. What's going on here?.

The pilot did not have time to raise his eyes back to contemplate the pseudo-Vuna again, as a heavy hoof was rushing towards the person's face. Having managed to deviate a little on reflexes and the blow went tangentially, hitting the nose and jaw, instantly caused dull but tolerable pain. The legs instantly tensed and with the effort of the pilot pushed a certain creature that took the form of a Vuna. Compared to the horses of the human world, she was light enough to tip over and fall to the floor. The hand shot up like an arrow under the pillow, where the cherished pistol lay. Having raised his TT, Kramarenko prepared to pull the trigger, but the created magic of the green shade turned out to be faster and the first shot was left for the creature. A green translucent clot grazed his arm and hit the wall behind him without stopping. Cold and cramp gripped the limb. The pistol fell with a loud thud next to its owner, writhing in pain.

The creature's gaze ceased to portray at least something of emotion, which made her look like a cold-blooded killer, and this was not far from the truth: From the lush hair, the night killer took out his weapon, a small stiletto. Taking him comfortably in her magical grip, she prepared to deliver the final blow.

Not used to giving up so easily and parting with his life, the pilot, with a cry of pain and rage, threw a pillow at her, hoping to gain at least a little time. The trick worked and the creature switched its attention to an unexpected object stuffed with down. But those few seconds would not have been enough to pick up his gun. Then, following the improvised projectile, Kramarenko jumped, leaning with all his weight. Pinning his killer to the floor, the man did not aim a blow at the muzzle, but because of the poor sensitivity of the hand missed and hit the horn. This was his salvation. Hissing in pain, pseudo-Vuna lost control of her weapons and magic.

The creature's front legs began to move and kicked the pilot in the chest with great force. Frozen for a moment, he immediately curled up, falling on his side. The air knocked out of the lungs, with a hoarse moan, seemed to burn through the airways. It was possible to breathe only on the second attempt, and a dry cough accompanied any attempts to re-fill the lungs with precious oxygen. During this period of time, the enemy managed to recover, standing up to his full height. A dropped stiletto gleamed in his left hoof.

That's it. This is the kind of death that was waiting for me, sparing me in the sky and protecting me from a splinter with a bullet, so that some creature from another world took my life? Kramarenko had an unpleasant thought.

But fate, if it really exists, ordered otherwise. A bright ray of blue magic hit the night killer so hard that it slammed him into the wall. Lowering his head and looking, the pilot was relieved to see her on the threshold. Spreading her legs wide apart and lowering her horn-tipped head threateningly, Vuna let out a low roar of primal rage, a lightning sword from her eyes. The horn was ready to light up again with blue magic, in order now to incinerate the creature that had encroached on her child. Having overcome meters in a second, Vuna pressed her opponent into the wall with her powerful hooves. His bones cracked, breaking and turning into fragments from the living press.

Moaning, the pilot sat up, leaning on his elbows, watching the unfolding scene of violence. Awareness of the danger came with the withdrawal of adrenaline, drowning out the pain and the bright taste of brackish blood. From behind, someone pressed down and gently tried to lay Kramarenko on the floor. White hooves and Tia's familiar worried face appeared. She was whispering something reassuringly, while trying to assess the damage to the human body. Without resisting the help, he relaxed as much as he could, giving full access to the groping and her magic. Emotions have completely subsided, leaving a little fatigue.

***

The moon stood in front of the shattered muzzle of the changeling, who took her form. The disguise fell off and now everyone could see the real green and empty eyes. The yellow chitin crunched with every pressure, and the leaky legs dangled limply in the air, unable to somehow resist the former Equestria princess. Anger and fear for her Sunrise "screamed" about the murder of this bastard, but keeping her thoughts sober, the mare also wanted to interrogate the night killer.

While Luna gnashed her teeth, Celestia examined Sunrise's injuries with secret fear. I felt better when his whole body was in order, except for a broken nose and lip, as well as large bruises in the chest area. He was very lucky and his ribs withstood the blow, and his agility and strength did not allow him to die in the first seconds of the attack. No matter how much she said that the Son of the Iron Bird is not a foal, she also had worries, fears and the same maternal love as her sister.

Having calmed Sunrise, the white mare approached her sister, calmed down a little after a short fight.

"Tia, can you take this… This changeling to the basement. And put a guard on him; I don't want him to try to harm my foal again. Luna said, spitting out the words angrily.

Nodding in response, Celestia bound the assassin with her magic and led him into the custody of the Order. It was necessary to create patrols and protection of the estate with the adjacent territory. Something terrible happened and the truce concluded two hundred years ago ended. The two Orders are again in a state of real, not cold war.

Left alone with Sunrise, Luna knelt helplessly beside him. Tears gushed out of the pony's big and beautiful blue eyes, dripping onto Her Son's torn clothes. He was breathing calmly, without causing apprehension. Maybe a little tired, his gaze was directed at the ceiling.

How could I be so careless as to put him in danger. What a fool I was, the blue pony reproached herself, sniffing her nose.

As if recognizing her thoughts, Sunrise smiled encouragingly and stretched out his paw to the muzzle. The amazing five-fingered limb brushed away the drops and began stroking the soft fur.

He believes that everything will be fine and I will believe. I will not let our family break up because of difficulties and misfortunes. We will be able to overcome them all together! the Luna was inspired, burying her nose in his.

***

In the palace of Canterlot, well after midnight, there were a dozen of the best guards in Equestria. Their appearance was shabby, but the military spirit was on top. A few steps ahead lay bound Blood Tuf, one of the most prominent figures in the Order of the Red Dragon.

Twilight, sitting on the golden throne, as befits a great princess, held a proud posture and smiled a little. That smile didn't bode well.

"You've done a great job, Harmony Warriors. You are all free!"

After saluting and bowing, the group left the throne room. Today they will get drunk and have fun in the bars of ancient Canterlot!

The lying pegasus of the Order looked with a shudder into the lavender eyes of the princess.

"Now lie still. S-now you're going to tell me everything..." Twilight said with a hiss, descending from the throne with the gait of a predator.

"N-no… You won't get anything from me. You have violated an ancient treaty and will soon regret it, Princess Twilight Sparkle." trembling with fear and stuttering, Blood Tuf spoke uncertainly.

"Who s-told you we were Twilight S-Sparkle?" she bared a row of sharp teeth.

Without waiting for the prisoner's answer, the princess said in a Canterlot voice as powerful as a thunderclap:

"We are the Great Twilight Eclipse!"