The Mystery of the Iron Bird Festival

Pretty quickly Kramarenko guessed what exactly was burning. But he could not understand one thing: why did she stay alive? Of course, maybe it was someone else who decided to burn down the old house, but with some sixth sense he guessed that this was unlikely.

The pilot understood that going there would be super-stupidity. After all, what can he do? Put out the fire? Save someone? He would rather burn himself than really be able to help. Besides, that purple pony was somewhere nearby. With her wings, she will quickly tell you where to go. Here they will cope without a single person in this world.

I think the unicorn will agree with me.

Only after a couple of moments he turned his head towards the green pony standing next to him.

And I don't even know her name. And it's a shame to ask now, after so much time.

But after a couple of steps, the pilot still gently patted the pony's back, which caused her a surprised and slightly embarrassed look.

"Sergey," he said and pointed his finger at himself, and then transferred to the pony.

Immediately guessing what it was about, she replied with a smile:

"Lyra."

***

"Rotten hay! I shouldn't have been so embarrassed in front of the Messiah. Now he won't take me seriously and won't share his secret knowledge."

Covered with an invisibility cloak, Alicorn wailed and tried hard to keep up with the unicorn and the Messiah in front. Suddenly, smoke appeared on the horizon.

Fire?! It is urgent to extinguish before it is too late!

Lavender wings flew up and all muscles tensed in anticipation. It was necessary to decide: either to continue to follow, or to fly to the rescue and extinguish the flame of fire, which was flaring up with every second.

Huge wings threw the pony into the air and carried it towards the smoke. It was a pity to lose sight of the bipedal creature, but the protection of subjects always comes first.

When Twilight was at the hearth, the skeleton of the house was already burning down there, covered with gray flakes of ash. The power of the alicorn extinguished the ferocious element. The winged creature's worried gaze wandered over the charred remains of the house. The fear of finding a charred corpse with a distorted grimace of pain was not justified. Time passed, and there was nothing for the eyes to catch on to.

Maybe there wasn't anyone here? lavender pony's thoughts were visited.

With every minute of the search, such hope gained more and more meaning and firmness, and fears about the unfortunate melted like ice in spring.

Descending to the ground warm from the fire, Twilight felt an unnatural force that circled around the fire pit like a whirlpool. The force, torn from some vessel, raged and did not even want to stop. It would take all the power of the elements to stop and destroy this magic, but they were far away, as were their five bearers. There was one more option: to take her under control in a new vessel. Alive.

Swallowing the bitter saliva, Twilight, trembling with fear, opened up to the raging power of Darkness. Like a snake, it wrapped around the pony, touching its icy sides. Cold, and then heat permeated the mare. Circling around its victim a little more, the Darkness thrust its fangs into the heart of the alicorn with a sharp throw. The sacrifice Twilight made justified itself. Those feelings of a strange and new force turned the head of the ponyasha. But before it went to the next level, she suppressed it with her willpower. Breathing and trembling, as if after a long run, alicorn vomited. It was harder to hold on than it seemed at the beginning. But suddenly the Darkness gave way to the brave pony and stopped tormenting, lying down somewhere in the bottom of the stomach. The cold and heat receded, giving way to the warm breeze of the field.

Rising up and already firmly standing on her feet, Twilight took off towards the Sun. It was necessary to fly urgently to Canterlot before the Darkness swallowed her up and took control.

***

Accustomed to the difficulties and hardships of the bygone war, the pilot, after a difficult march across the steppe, came to a beautiful estate on a hill. The tiled roof was torn up to the Sun and light, and the structure itself was a mixture of waves of white and rich blue colors. The unusual estate was surrounded by a garden full of apple trees, pears and many berry bushes. A low fence curled like a hedge, carefully protecting the oasis from the rest of the world. The dusty road was replaced by a path paved with stone. It was as if she was inviting guests, talking about kind hosts.

The travelers did not refuse such an offer to visit a cozy corner in the bare steppe. A thought flashed through the captain's mind that he had already visited the locals once and it did not end well.

Brushing her off like an annoying fly, the man opened the gate and entered under the canopy of trees. The cool shade refreshed the dry and dusty face of the pilot. But before the two travelers reached the porch, soft, barely audible footsteps were heard. A little later, two ponies came out: blue and white. They were as tall as lavender, if not taller. Looking closer at them, the pilot noticed the horn and wings as well. Their movements and appearance were worthy of the most beautiful princesses from fairy tales.

Suddenly, these ponies crouched down and bowed in a deep and graceful bow before the tired, sweaty and dirty pilot. It came as a complete surprise to him and he just blinked in surprise, looking for help or support from Lyra. But she's already gone. There was no one else at the man's side. Belatedly and completely inelegantly, the pilot made a half bow. Smiles appeared on the faces of the two mares and they stood back up to their full height. Without delaying the pause that had arisen between them, the white mare waved her wing, saying, follow us.

The ponies did not go ahead, but stood on the sides at a distance of two steps.

Honorary escort the thought flashed.

Inside, the situation was no worse than outside. There were paintings everywhere, and most of the furniture had patterns of the Sun and Moon. The hall was replaced by a more spacious kitchen with soft and warm flowers. Every part of this house looked like a work of art. Inviting them to sit on an air chair, one of them went into the depths of the estate, the blue mare remained next to the pilot, sitting next to him. Her gaze was full of admiration and some kind of love for the pilot. In a voice as beautiful as velvet, she said a few words. Despite the fact that there were no interrogative notes in her tone, Kramarenko reached into his bag for the standard part of communicating with the locals. Suddenly, the pony stopped him with a touch of a hoof. At the questioning look and unvoiced question of the man, the mare shook her head.

A white woman came, holding three cups of hot tea in a yellow cloud of magic. Having accepted his cup from an amazing "grip", the pilot was expecting something else, without realizing what. But nothing happened. Just a secular tea party. Hot tea perfectly enveloped a dry throat, leaving behind a sweet aftertaste of unfamiliar berries and herbs. Anxiety, fatigue and tension went away, muscles relaxed and a satisfied half-smile lit up the man.

"Maybe everything will get better now?" without asking anyone, the pilot asked a rhetorical question and answered it himself, "No."