The Mystery of the Iron Bird Festival

by Solntsepek

Rating: mature
Tags: Mystery, Adventure, Violence, Princess Celestia, Death, Human, Twilight Sparkle, Lyra, Princess Luna, Original Character, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Alternate Universe
Length: 25699

Continuation of the short story "MiGs on interception...Dragons?"

Here you can see a little adventure of pilot Sergei Kramarenko, standing alone in the middle of someone else's field.

Published 2022-12-06 18:30:00 UTC
Last updated 2023-07-22 14:35:43 UTC

Says the second. I was hit

Clouds slowly floated over the land, the land controlled by Soviet pilots and anti-aircraft gunners. Not far away lived inexperienced, but brave Chinese pilots who had already mastered new jet machines. They took to the air more and more often and won victories over the Americans. Although the Soviet instructors clicked their tongues, they were pleased with their work done. But even such "young people" were not ready to be left alone, without the support of more experienced, shot "old men". Well, the "old men" themselves were already ready to leave for the Union soon, at the end of a business trip that claimed the lives of many excellent pilots. They died, leaving the duty to defend China and Korea to their comrades.

***

Exhausted by the recent flight, the ace pilot Sergey Kramarenko was in a depressed state. Lying at the hangar with the equipment, he mindlessly ate the snow that had fallen tonight. No one approached the pilot and did not impose himself, rightly believing that he was better off alone than in the company of a colleague or a technician.

His peace was disturbed by a combat alert, which raised the other pilots of his group to their feet. Lazutin, Kramarenko's one-year-old, who was running nearby, helped him get up from the cold ground. And the two of them ran to their winged cars.

A flight was again scheduled for Vishnyakov's group. Due to the great activity of American aviation and their bombing, Kozhedub had to drive his wards with frequent departures. He understood the stresses his fighters were experiencing, but he could do nothing. From the command, you could get a maximum of two weeks in a rest home. But it was of little use; maybe it was physically easier, but obviously not mentally. Someone was even injected alternately with arsenic, but it did not always help in the difficult work. And the sabres were already different, not the same as before. Increasingly, Kozhedub saw how pilots refused to take off, complaining about an engine malfunction, then, allegedly, a tormenting cold.

And so, a group consisting of eight MiGs was raised to repel the attack of Thunderjet stormtroopers.

Having reached his car, Kramarenko reluctantly climbed into the cab. Already on the machine, he pushes the flashlight forward, buckles himself in and turns on the engine. The plane hummed obediently and habitually. Neither fear nor excitement remained in the pilot, only a slight sadness.

"The business trip should end soon, and we will finally go home to our family… Who has it left after the war." The eyes close by themselves, and such a native, such a close image appears in the pilot's head…

"The second one. You take off. The second one?! Can you hear me?"

The second one is ready for takeoff. Kramarenko replied dryly and emotionlessly to the dispatcher. The image of his family disappeared, leaving only a slight tension before the upcoming battle. "Who knows, maybe I won't come back today, having died in the sky of Korea." the pilot reflected with obvious pessimism, thoughtlessly stroking the dashboard.

The planes roared, and in turn, all eight MiGs, shaking their steel wings like big birds, came out onto the runway.

Gas, speed, and so they all rose one by one into the sky. Having gained the necessary height, the MiGs began to follow Lieutenant Colonel Vishnyakov. Sergey Fedorovich was an experienced man, and most importantly, reliable. To go to death with such a man, he will never abandon his comrade.

"Says the first. I see an enemy group. Fifteen on the right, thirty below." Vishnyakov noticed the stormtroopers who were lower and slightly to the right. "Attack."

Having increased the speed, the Soviet "falcons" were preparing to release their "claws", and certainly not into a helpless victim. But the Americans, noticing the pursuit, went under thick clouds.

After a couple of minutes, it became clear that we had nothing to catch here.

"Group, turn around. Let's go to the base." without expressing any emotions about this, Vishnyakov laid to the right, and the rest of the group followed him.

At this time, having guessed the moment, the cover sabres jumped out from above. The Soviet pilots had no choice but to accept this unequal battle.

"Attention! Turn around for everyone!" Kramarenko understood that they were at a disadvantage, and now he was trying to take everyone to the vertical.

Maneuvering, the MiGs began to gain altitude. The heavier sabres, though slower, were not going to lag behind. At an altitude of nine thousand, the second group of sabres approached.

"Seryozha, they are chasing us to the second."

"Understood. Link, turn left!"

Directing the link towards the second group of Americans, the MiGs, maneuvering, slipped under the attacking sabres. The enemy fired several short bursts, but the tracers did not hit anyone. Repeating the maneuver once again, Kramarenko gave the command to attack. Divided into pairs, the Sabres tried to escape from the attack. MiGs did the same and began to pursue their own goals. Noticing a sabre coming in from the side, Kramarenko dodged a long queue and already started attacking the host himself. The American tried to leave by diving, but he was a little late: Kramarenko had already pointed at his flashlight. Like angry dogs, three guns of the Soviet fighter barked. Torn to shreds, the plane fell into an uncontrollable spin.

"Second, you have one on your tail. my wingman shouted."

After these words, a burst of machine guns was fired at Kramarenko, but he abruptly went vertical. The pilot felt several hits on the body immediately, — so far nothing critical.

"Seryozha, I'll take it off now."

My wingman went to the tail of the sabre and gave him two short bursts. The sabre immediately detached itself and went down like a wounded bird, probably to the coastal strip. But the wingman's MiG did not think to let him go, rushing after the smoking enemy fighter.

After watching the plane already falling, Kramarenko suddenly felt a strong blow. The plane was thoroughly shaken, and the pilot was pressed to the left side by overload. The sabre that had knocked him down slipped through from above.

Now he will go for a second run. Kramarenko thought angrily, simultaneously trying to level his moment. But everything turned out to be even: the control knob did not obey in any way.

"Says the second. I was hit." swallowing bitter saliva, Kramarenko said.

Leaving behind a black plume of smoke, the plane was rapidly rushing towards the gray and frozen ground. At this time, the fighter dived into a large cloud. Sabre, who came to the pilot, made a blindly short queue, which, fortunately, passed by. Barely reaching for the ejection handle, Kramarenko was finally able to leave the burning car.

Thrown out and not seeing anything in the white fog, he began to slowly descend. An air battle was raging somewhere nearby, but soon the sounds began to subside, leaving him completely alone in a natural shelter.

Finally, the white dome came out of the cloud, giving the pilot the opportunity to see the terrain for landing. But instead of the expected gray landscape of Korea, he saw golden fields, glistening in the young rays of the rising Sun. After a few seconds of stupor, the memories of last year came flooding back to the pilot.

Damn, it hasn't been more than a year since the day we flew over these fields. It is here, because I recognize this picture from hundreds of others. thought Kramarenko, looking at the earth and trying to reject the evil reality.

Touching the ground with his feet, the pilot fell into the soft, like a feather bed, wheat. And from above, like a blanket, he was covered by a white parachute that stood out here.

"Well, hello, the world of fairy tales and miracles." Kramarenko whispered softly, already feeling that he was not dressed for the weather. The pilot's heart was pounding a little harder, and there was a faint tremor in his voice.

Angel by day

The sun, announcing a new day, rises over the middle-aged Equestria. Very soon, the warm rays will lift the inhabitants from a cozy bed. But no, not to work. Today, all ponies rightfully have time to prepare for the "Iron Birds" holiday. Most of them, of course, dream of getting to Canterlot, because it is rightfully considered the best city when it comes to the day of the "Iron Birds". And even Ponyville, the city of Friendship, cannot take away this title from him, no matter how hard the company of holidays and parties "At Aunt Pinkie's" tries. And today, besides, is the anniversary: exactly twenty-five centuries ago, that very battle happened.

Those ponies that had already risen with the dawn and were now going to meet the new day, witnessed how something large was rushing to the ground at high speed. Burning with a bright flame, it left behind a long plume of black and thick smoke.

In addition to the Earth ponies, there were also a few pegasus hurrying on urgent and important matters. They were able to see much more than their brothers from earth: like a giant bird of prey, it was rushing over the wheat fields. Her gray wings froze in one movement, and red flames burst out of her belly. A little rattling at speed, thick and pitch-black smoke poured behind her.

Forgetting about all their problems, the pegasi rushed to where the Iron Bird would fall, and there was no doubt that it was her, none of those present had. Although the winged ponies were slower, but the black smoke served as a good guide for flying.

***

"Princess, Twilight Sparkle! Iron Bird! The Iron Birds are back!" out of breath, the messenger-guard tried to tell Her Majesty about what had happened.

The tired purple princess first looked at Pegasus in armor for a long time, clearly doubting his sanity. But after a few languid seconds, she realized exactly what he said, immediately revived and remembered something of her own. With a smile on duty, she announced the termination of the reception of subjects. Having expelled everyone except Pegasus who brought the news, Twilight prepared to squeeze out everything the guardian knows, and then she herself will go in search of or even capture the Iron Bird.

But the interrogation did not even last two minutes; the guard knew practically nothing except the fall of the Iron Bird in the field; as it turned out, not far from Horsenes, a small village.

"Equip the Harmony squad immediately. We're moving out in exactly twelve minutes."

The princess couldn't stand it when things didn't go according to her plan. And a squad of elite warriors, only a dozen, was a force that even the rulers of some states could not argue with. The bet on them was right, but who knows what the Iron Birds are capable of?

***

A lone pilot was slowly moving in one direction. Having determined the cardinal directions by the rising Sun, he chose the western direction, hoping, first of all, to stumble upon the river. And where the river is, there are intelligent beings. He also had to throw away an unnecessary parachute and winter uniforms. Even if someone finds his things, nothing critical should happen. At least, the already tired Kramarenko hoped for this.

Step by step, the pilot of the jet era measured the kilometers traveled. The sun was getting hotter and hotter, and soon the Chinese tunic turned into one wet spot. The man's strength was getting less and less, and there was no water in sight.

Just a little bit left. Kramarenko consoled himself, trying to force his body to move on; but suddenly his legs gave way, and the pilot fell to the loose ground under an invisible weight. He had no choice but to sigh heavily and accept the fact that self-confidence and ill-calculated strength were slowly driving him to his grave. Closing his eyes, the man passed out; maybe because of the heat, maybe from fatigue or, most likely, from both.

He could have been eaten by wild animals; he could have died of starvation and dehydration. But someone from above decided that it was too early for him to die. Well, how else can you explain when, by pure chance, a girl found him… Ahem, excuse me, pegasus?

Appearing as if out of nowhere, the mare looked at the place crushed in the field. Her big eyes reflected a man lying down without strength. So weak and so helpless now. Without hesitation, Pegasus took out a wineskin from her saddlebags. With a light movement of a white hoof, the mare poured life-giving moisture over the exhausted face of the man until he showed signs of life. Stirring, the pilot found the strength to get up and noticed a hovering horse a meter away.

The white fur evoked thoughts of her virgin beauty, the eyes, the color of an azure wave, carried away into the distance, and the golden mane gave even more resemblance to a beautiful angel. — that's what almost any man or stallion who saw this mare could think.

His hand reflexively reached for the pistol on his hip, but when it touched the cool metal, it froze. The warrior's eyes expressed nothing but composure. Showing with all his appearance that he was extremely dangerous, the pilot tried to hide his weakness and fear behind all this.

The white pegasus was not stupid and understood the man's mute hint. Without making any sudden movements, she increased the distance and landed on the ground. But the pilot was in no hurry to remove his hand from the handle of his TT.

"..." said the pony in an incomprehensible language. After waiting a little, she tilted her head to one side and looked inquiringly into Kramarenko's eyes.

"I'm sorry, I don't understand you." the pilot said dryly, and as a sign of his words he tried to make a gesture similar in meaning.

After thinking for a while, Pegasus nodded. He took a wineskin in his teeth, the pony began to approach the man with small steps. Her movements were with as little aggression as possible in this case. Little by little, the golden-haired one was able to come close. Carefully placing the wineskin next to the man's hand, the white-winged pegasus calmly began to move away from him. Suddenly, the pilot's hand let go of the pistol, previously so tightly squeezed, and grabbed the hoof. And she understood this hint correctly: smiling, sitting down on the ground. While the pilot greedily sucked on the water and enjoyed the long-awaited moment, the pony never moved, still afraid to scare the alien…

***

The golden hoarder touched the plowed land. Ahead was what was left of the Iron Bird, a burning skeleton of once gray metal. Smashed to pieces, in the trash. The most powerful pony was unhappy: so much time spent on the call went nowhere. There are zero answers, and the question has become even more.

"Captain," she called the commander harshly, "immediately cordon off the territory, let only by special passes. Understand?!"

The unicorn guard who ran up immediately raised a hoof and shouted:

"That's right, Your Majesty!"

"And I still have other problems to deal with." Princess Twilight said in a dissatisfied half-whisper.

Flashing her horn, she disappeared at the same moment, leaving a platoon of guards under the control of the Harmony squad.

At night the demon

In just fifteen minutes, the winged pony was able to convince Kramarenko, the one who had seen the old woman with the scythe, of his inoffensiveness. He wasn't going to believe it, but the fate of starving to death didn't appeal to him either.

Having risen from the ground, the pilot followed the flyer in a direction known only to her. And so two beings walked, dissimilar and not understanding each other, until an old, but not yet dilapidated, hut appeared.

Following the pegasus into the house, the pilot was surprised to look at the interior, if that's what you can call old carved furniture. The cracked boards creaked under his feet, forcing the man to tread more carefully. Hearing the flapping of wings, he went into another room, where the hostess was already laying out the table. Bread, vegetables and even wine were set for the foreign guest.

Turning at the footsteps, Pegasus with a slight smile took out a silk rug and carefully placed it in front of Kramarenko. Regarding this as a sign of an invitation to the table, the downed pilot sat down to eat. Once again awakened by the food, the stomach happily rumbled.

Even the fact that he was not understood did not stop him from thanking the pony:

"Thank you, hostess, for your so generous reception."

And after a moment of confusion, he tipped the wine into himself. And the wine was good, strong. Snacking on fresh bread and vegetable stew, the second cup of ruby wine went inside. After which, he no longer touched the newly filled cup. It became clear from the slightly faded smile of the pegasus that this upset her a little, but the man categorically refused to get drunk.

Soon, the plate was empty. And the pilot also gratefully stood up and bowed, saying kind words to the hostess.

Glancing at his wristwatch, he was going to go to a nearby town or village in the evening chill. Squatting down, the pilot tried to find out about the nearest settlement. To which the pegasus reared up and violently shook her head. Expressing his silent question with a look, Kramarenko once again pointed out the window, where a quiet and cool evening gives way to the sun. But the pony shakes his head even harder and mumbles something excitedly in response.

It can be seen that there are worse dangers here than simple predators. the man rightly decided.

Seeing that the pilot is no longer rushing out of the house, pegasus calms down. Gently tugging on the sleeve of her tunic, as if calling, pony resolutely led Kramarenko into one of the rooms.

The decoration of the room was solid, if not rich. A large bed, which in some places was bound with silver; a carved wardrobe and table; and even a gilded, with precious stones, mirror, almost full-length human. There were no windows here, but they were completely replaced by candlesticks, standing wherever possible.

Turning to the frozen pilot, pegasus patted the feather bed with her wing, inviting the traveler to rest. With the words "Why not", Kramarenko lay down in a soft bed without undressing. Smiling radiantly at last, the pony left the room, giving the person the opportunity to sleep. But before falling asleep, the pilot took out a pistol from his holster and put it under his pillow. Maybe there was no reason for this, but paranoid thoughts yes. It took a little time for the tired Kramarenko to fall asleep in warmth and comfort.

***

In the night field, with a full moon, a dozen unknown men in raincoats were sneaking around. Two large figures, walking ahead of the whole group, stood out in particular. Soon they came out to the guarded perimeter. There are five guards ahead, frankly idling. One wave of a hoof, and part of the squad pulls out air guns. The rest begin their rounds from both sides, slowly taking the lazy guards in their pincers.

It took only a few minutes for everything, and now the unknown in raincoats are ready to attack. The silence was broken by the whistling of darts, and then the sounds of scuffling. Now it remains to remove the faithful dogs of Twilight — the Harmony squad. There were strange devices in the hooves of the attackers. A few quick movements, and they begin to emit barely visible smoke.

Soon this gas reached the squad, most of whom were sleeping peacefully. Two patrollers sitting by a small fire were quietly whispering about something. Not noticing that they were surrounded by a small fog, the elite began to nod off, and then completely disconnected.

The path to the remains of the Iron Bird was clear! No longer afraid of being noticed, ponies in raincoats began to carefully collect the "bones" of the Bird.

When everything was collected, down to the last screw, they also disappeared into the yellow field before sunrise.

***

A thunderstorm rumbled somewhere, wheat ears rustled. From such a very strong smell of memories of childhood. My thoughts were confused and did not allow me to fall asleep again. I wanted to go out into the raging wind, spread my arms and feel the life running through my veins.

Throwing back the remnants of sleep, the man got up from the soft bed. After a little thought, I took the gun. Walking as quietly as possible on the creaking boards, Kramarenko moved towards the exit. Already towards the end of the journey, the pilot noticed a very strange, gurgling sound that did not fit into the overall picture. After listening a little, it became clear what was coming from the second room, the hostess's room.

You never know what she has there. It's better not to go anywhere once again. the man thought and then walked to the door.

All that remained was to pull the door handle, when suddenly sounds much more terrifying than a simple gurgling began to be heard in the pony's room. Kramarenko stopped and looked again at where the devils seemed to be raging. Taking out the TT, the downed pilot secretly looked into the room of a beautiful pegasus. Even before my eyes could focus, a strong smell of rot hit my nose. But even the eyes, when they saw, could not give an answer.

What used to be a beautiful pony, a sleeping dying fighter pilot, has become a piece of a half-rotted corpse. One wing was supported by blackened tendons, and the other was not there at all. There were pustules and black bumps on the body in places. The front legs seemed still intact, unlike the hind legs, whose skin was already gradually tearing, exposing the stinking flesh. From the stench and stench, the captain caught his breath, and a chill ran down his back.

Unexpectedly, a floorboard creaked at the wrong time under Kramarenko. Despite the fact that the sound was not loud, the monster abruptly turned its head towards the pilot. Something vaguely resembling the face of a pony was now looking at the man. The remnants of the wool, which had once been a mane, were tangled together and now resembled tangles, and sunken glass eyes looked indifferently at Kramarenko, frozen with horror.

A little away from what he saw, the pilot pointed the muzzle of a pistol at this half-dead pony. What was a pegasus took a step towards the man. To which Kramarenko squeezed the trigger. A shot rang out, and the bullet cracked the pony's skull. Another bullet finished off the wheezing creature. Now no one else will be able to see the beautiful pegasus.

A barely noticeable smoke was pouring out of the trunk. Somewhere outside the window, a dry thunderstorm rumbled, and Kramarenko was still standing on the half-rotted floor, waiting for anything and anyone. But apart from the creaking in the cracks and the howling wind, no one else broke the silence.

Mute in the city

"Who?! Who dared to steal the remains of an Iron Bird?!"

A little more, and Princess Twilight would have lit up with anger, in the truest sense of the word. The poor unicorn guardian, who brought such bad news, shrank into a small ball.

"Go away."

The guard seemed to be blown away by the wind.

Who could have stolen… Does this pony really think that he can create an artifact from the skeleton of an Iron Bird? Fool, if it is so… At least, I hope so.

Power and power did not allow the princess to get everything she wants at the behest of the horn. Neither the guards nor the special squad could stop those ponies. Well, it's time to start investigating yourself.

Flashing her horn, Twilight teleported to her office. Taking off her royal regalia, she threw on a gray cape with a fibula of a white alicorn. The moment and the pony are gone. Few people knew that Twilight was working on the amulet of the alicorn so that evil would not penetrate the carrier. There was enough of such power for the almost endless supply of the created invisibility cloak.

Opening the window, the pony rose into the air with the help of mighty wings. Her drive and perseverance led her forward to adventure.

***

My heart was thudding in my chest from what I saw. After taking a few steps to the corpse, Kramarenko was able to make sure that she would not get up again. Slowly lowering his hand with a pistol, the pilot noticed a small pile of gold coins on the table. When he got closer, he examined the coinage of a pony with a horn on them.

Turning back, as if someone would reproach him for stealing, Kramarenko scraped off all the gold and stuffed it into his pockets. The dead don't need it anymore. Now, if you jump up, there will be a soft clink of coins. This is not very good for a lonely traveler, but there were no other options yet.

Rummaging through the shelves in the cabinets, the pilot was able to find a lot of necessary, but now useless, things. Of all the junk, I liked a white saddlebag, and clean sheets with pencils. Kramarenko immediately put the stationery and a good half of the coins in the bag. It remains to find provisions. But on the threshold of the room, he suddenly noticed a strange cut in the wall.

"It must be a safe," thought the pilot of the downed MiG.

Not very noticeable in the dark, it was not locked. Either his mistress was sure that locks were unnecessary, or they were not so necessary here at all. In any case, I wanted to open this safe even out of pure curiosity. Inside, oddly enough, it turned out to be the most valuable thing for a person — a map. Let it be impossible to read the names of settlements and cities, but the fact that there is a civilization, and it is relatively close from here. Well, it's time to get out of here.

Carefully walking through the house, the pilot reached the kitchen. Everything that was needed was right in front of my eyes. Bread, vegetables and water bottles that were found on the shelf went into the same bag. The bulging saddlebag wasn't very comfortable, but it was better than nothing.

Quietly and without incident, getting out of the hut, the man moved towards the city. Now he is ready for it, now he has the strength to overcome the path to the goal. And the goal was the only one: to get out of here as soon as possible and, of course, to return to the base of his air division.

***

Moving quickly through the grain fields, a lonely man came out on a dusty road. A crooked track a fathom wide led up the hill. The chances of getting lost were minimal, since the clouds had passed and now the Moon was lighting the way.

Humming a cheerful song to himself, the pilot saw his native land, a quiet and peaceful life. Even what happened already seemed like some kind of dream, a nightmare that was dispelled by a warm breeze. Somewhere far away, perhaps in the depths of the rhythmic heart, fear has settled. He was strong, but as long as the pilot firmly believed in salvation, he would not get out. Kramarenko did not know about how he would come back, not about how he should be now. Solving problems as they came and hoping for a chance, he moved forward.

The kilometers traveled made themselves felt, and the pilot did not turn away from them, making stops. All night Kramarenko beat off the earth of another world with his boots. A light twilight caught him when he finally saw the city. It looked more like a village than a real city. No paved roads, no moats and walls for you. But their development should be at the level of the late Middle Ages, judging by what they saw. Although, some things were like from another era.

Accustomed to the hardships of war, it was not the first time for the pilot to lack sleep, but now and here he could afford it. You just need to find an inn or rent a room for a day from the locals. Looking around in search of a hotel, Kramarenko himself did not notice how he came out into an empty square. In the center there was a monument to some kind of queen or queen. Expensive regalia and an important pony pose hinted at this. Strangely, she had wings and a horn.

I've never heard of such a thing. the thought about the race of this monarch slipped through.

After standing, the pilot walked on. A shadow passed somewhere behind the house. Kramarenko clearly began to feel the surveillance. But he did not give hints that the spy was noticed.

The first thought was to abruptly go around the corner and meet there. But after a little reflection, I realized that he might not be alone.

Besides, I simply don't have time to get out and point the gun, as I'm lying down with a fink under the rib.

But everything was resolved without human action. Two foals ran out to meet the pilot. Two pairs of large eyes stared at the frozen foreigner. Fear and surprise, but even more curiosity was reflected in them.

Kramarenko smiled and whispered, as if they could understand something from his speech:

"Quiet, quiet. I won't hurt you. Don't be afraid of me."

The foals did not run, and the pilot slowly squatted down, simultaneously removing the saddlebag from his tired shoulder. Taking out a piece of paper and a pencil, he began schematically drawing a bed. The little ponies looked at the unusual way of communication with surprise. Kramarenko once again pointed his finger at himself, and then at the drawing. The pioneer foals looked at each other with a smile and nodded synchronously to the man in the tunic who sat down.

Having slipped through, the kids galloped forward along the street. Quickly throwing his writing materials, the man strode after him. Led by the little ponies, the pilot went out to an inconspicuous porch. After knocking on the carved door, Kramarenko turned to the foals standing behind him. Bending down, he patted their mane and took out a gold roundel from his pocket, handed it to the children. But they did not accept the gift and waved a hoof goodbye, galloped somewhere.

I wonder what they are up to at such a time? If I was at home, I would have thought that we went fishing, al went grouse.

The creaking door didn't let me think about it. On the threshold stood a sleepy unicorn with a curled mustache and in a body shirt. Kramarenko immediately reached into his bag and took out a drawing of the bed. He looked carefully at the paper first, and then at the man, the pony asked something. But he remained misunderstood.

"Well, I don't understand you, horned." the pilot said regretfully and shrugged his shoulders.

Having made some conclusions in his head, the stallion opened the door wide open and invited the man inside with a hoof. Crouching down, Kramarenko went into the lobby of the hotel. Going to the counter, he waited for the pony and dumped four gold coins on the table. The sleepy unicorn bulged his already big eyes, seeing such a sum.

Overdid it. the thought flashed. Just how much?

Kramarenko again picked up a piece of paper and a pencil. The Sun and the Moon, replacing each other, became an art. Pushing a new drawing to the stallion, the man showed two fingers, — two days.

Nodding in response, the unicorn took only one coin and took out a gray bag from under the table. Thrown on the table, it tinkled softly. After grabbing the change, the pilot immediately put the money in his saddlebag and followed the pony that came out from behind the counter. He led the tired man up the creaking stairs.

On the second floor there was a long and narrow corridor that led to the right and ended with a door. On the way to his room, just to the one at the end of the corridor, Kramarenko managed to count four more rooms.

Suddenly, the stallion's twisted horn lit up and a bunch of keys flew out of his pocket. Shrouded, they flew up to the pony's muzzle, and he, having chosen the right one, also opened the door to me with the help of magic.

A fairly simple interior of the room could scare off almost anyone with as much money as Kramarenko. Only a soldier is no stranger to a harsh life, and even such a "suite" was the best option for him. While the pilot was examining the decoration of the room, which was: a double bed for a person, a locker, a mirror and a table by the window, the stallion had already gone to the stairs. A heavy sigh escaped the man. Dropping the bag on the floor, he hurriedly closed the door on the latch. It was getting light outside the window. Taking off his dirty underwear, the pilot lay down in bed. The TT placed under the pillow in advance cooled the hand and gave peace of mind. And it is now very necessary for a person who has experienced so much.

***

In the rays of the rising Sun, two people were standing in a narrow street. The red cloaks made them stand out noticeably, but in such a wound, few people could notice them. Whispering softly, one of them pointed with a clawed paw at the "hotel" where the downed pilot was staying. The second one could only nod briefly in response. A minute later they were gone. They are dissolving, like shadows after dusk.

A battle of local significance

I broke through a layer of clouds. My moment carried me up, accelerating more and more. Sweat was rolling in a stream, and his hands were shaking unusually, as if it was the first fight. From behind, over the roar of the plane, a heart-rending scream was heard and the half-dead pony was carried out after the small fighter. Her rotted flesh in her chest exposed a black heart. It was as if death itself was rushing on gigantic and withered, previously white, wings. Overpowering myself, I took a sharp turn to the right.

Drawing a dead loop, my moment went into the back of the revived corpse. I squeezed the fire button with all my strength. But the fighter was silent. My heart skipped a beat, and the unfolding creature was reflected in my eyes. The open, toothy mouth bristled with jagged, yellow fangs. Fear did not allow to turn away and the plane, painted in Korean, went to ram, as if in slow motion.

Breath…

***

And a sharp exhalation.

Kramarenko opened his eyes sharply. The bed was soaked with sweat, and my chest ached. Only now he began to feel the complexity of the situation. The last day passed like a dream, and only now the pilot has recovered from the shock of what happened. At the same time, fear and guilt lurking somewhere deep for the shooting of that…

Stop! I couldn't do anything else. I couldn't help but kill someone who is dead.

Taking out a watch from the dresser, the pilot calculated that he had only slept for three hours. For a minute he nervously fiddled with the mechanism of the finest work. Someone rustled behind the wall. Waking up, the man began to dress.
And here he is again in a green tunic, with a TT and a paratrooper knife on his belt.

It won't hurt to get some air. And then I will soon become a living dead myself. — thought Kramarenko and grinned at his thoughts.

With a leisurely step, he approached the window and opened it. The measured life of the town flowed behind him. Strange noises from the neighbors did not stop.

How tired they are. What are they even doing there?

Suddenly, the partition between the rooms exploded. The blast wave put Kramarenko on the floor. Small fragments and dust fell down. The pilot quickly crawled behind the closet, where he lay still with a pistol in his hand. Just in time. Two unknown men in red capes came out of the hole. One of them turned to the bed and with a clawed paw threw a small ball into the bed. As soon as he touched, the bed was engulfed in green fire. Small flames instantly ate away a good half of the bed. If a person were not awakened by a nightmare, he would immediately be devoured by the devil's fire.

While one was clearly enjoying watching the quick and painful death of a soft bed, the other cautiously approached the table. Not counting on the material existence of the owner, the killer began to search the saddlebag for something valuable. While the second was busy gutting things at the table, the first kept watching the smoldering remains.

Taking out a knife, Kramarenko went behind the first one. It was the size of a local pony, which means the neck location should be the same. Seizing the knife more comfortably, Kramarenko jumped on his back and sharply struck him in the place where the neck should presumably be.

The accompanying luck did not disappoint and the tip deftly entered the flesh. The reptile began to twitch and wheeze. The pilot managed to turn the knife before he was thrown off his back. Suddenly something struck on his right shoulder and a sharp pain sobered his rage. It can be seen that the second managed to shoot from something, but the coup and the cover of the corpse saved the man from the fate of pouring everything with his blood here. Throwing off the dead man in red, Kramarenko raised his gun. But before the man could shoot, he noticed that the second one was also dead. There was an arrow sticking out of the assassin's back. Turning his head, the pilot did not notice anyone else.

So they shot through the window.

Like a worm, the pilot crawled on the floor, afraid to get a "gift" from the sniper. When he reached the wall, the pilot took a deep breath and examined the wound.

Phew, it's okay. — thought Kramarenko, seeing the wound on his shoulder. - Just a tangent wound

There was silence. The man crawled back to the first corpse. Turning it over, he saw that it wasn't a pony. Bird's head, feathers up to the breast and paws: the front ones are bird's, and the hind ones are lion's.

It must be a griffin

He was related to a pony, except that he had big eyes and height. And again, he is not at all like from myths and fairy tales. Pulling a paratrooper knife out of the griffin's neck, the pilot wiped the weapon on the fabric of his raincoat. Pressing as low as possible, the man crawled to the second with an arrow. The second one also turned out to be a griffin. He found throwing knives. Kramarenko did not disdain to take all three remaining knives for himself.

In order to get a saddlebag and not be under the gun, the pilot had to overturn the table. Having already collected all the things from the floor, the man decided to get out through the window of the next room.

It is unlikely that the shooter had a second hiding place, and he killed the griffin, not me. Can a friend do this? And what the hell is not joking.

After the pilot climbed over the hole in the rotten wall, the thoughts of where to go later alarmed him in earnest. He did not understand the language, and in the eyes of the locals he was a black sheep. Anyone could have turned him over to the government.

And it will certainly be interested in such an instance. It makes little sense to run to unsociable places: new mercenaries will track you down. Besides, there's no food, no shelter. One hope, to find that shooter. If he helped once, maybe he will help a second time.

No one answered the quick glance from the window. It was quiet outside the window, on the street and in the neighboring houses. Only when the street temporarily became empty, Kramarenko climbed over the frame, leaned over and jumped off. My legs gave off a hollow pain, but it quickly passed. After taking a sharp look at the area for the second time, the man cautiously, but slowly, moved to the center of the town. Maybe the shooter was an interesting person and, perhaps, even a secret friend, risking his life like that was stupid.

A light wind calmed the heavy thoughts, and the shoulder gave a dull pain. There was nowhere to treat the wound and nothing. The locals followed the two-legged alien passing by them with a curious look. They did nothing more. When the street led to a familiar square, seen at dawn, the pilot was surprised to notice a sign with a cup and a bun.

It looks like a local catering. It's strange that I didn't notice him this morning.

Hesitating a little in front of the porch and turning his head in unsuccessful attempts to notice the "Red Cloaks". But, apart from simple ponies, the eye had nothing to catch on to. This could at least a little, maybe just a little, give hope that there is no surveillance. Throwing everything off on paranoia is not worth it, and now especially. Having driven away unpleasant thoughts, the pilot, already with confidence, opened the door of the institution.

A nice atmosphere of light shades and a variety of colors greeted the guest. About five round tables were empty, two more were occupied by quiet couples. Crouching, the man walked through the low doors and sat down at the far table. In the blink of an eye, a black unicorn in a white apron appeared next to the soldier. The melodious voice and the smell of roses hit my head. Regretfully, the hands reached into the bag and pulled out the communication tools. The traces left by the pencil were clear to the foal: a cup of tea and pies. Leaving the choice of the latter to the waitress.

The few visitors gave their full attention to the strange creature in the corner of the establishment. The whisper of big-eyed ponies did not bother a lonely person, because everyone is curious. Ten minutes later, the unicorn brought the order. Barely visible steam rose from a small cup, and the pies were piled on the same small plate. The pilot did not hesitate to start eating.

There were all kinds of pies there: with apples and pears, with jam and…

With grass? Although, what I'm surprised about, they're herbivores, they can't feed on meat.

The creak of the door opening did not disturb the peace of this place, and Kramarenko simply did not pay attention. The sound of hooves approaching the far table alerted.

The man raised his head and saw a pony in a gray raincoat walking towards him. Recently, raincoats began to strain the downed pilot very much. His hand dropped to his holster just in case. Before reaching the man only five steps, he threw off his hood. The green muzzle of the mare opened under him. Her yellow eyes looked at Kramarenko with a kind of childish joy.

A little more and she wags her tail like a dog at the sight of the owner

Stepping softly, pony sat down on the pillow next to the tense man. Taking out a new piece of paper and sketched himself clumsily, he gave it and a pencil to the mare. She cheerfully took the instrument in her mouth and began to draw something. When Kramarenko saw that she had drawn a bird of prey, he did not immediately recognize her as a fighter. Yes, there was a MiG-15 veiled in a bird in front of him. After letting her digest what she saw, she drew something again. Having looked, guesses began to shine through in the person. The Kramarenko depicted on the sheet was enclosed in an egg.

It turns out that the ponies consider me a baby bird of an airplane. Or, to be more precise, some part of them. Perhaps that's why she looked at me with such lust.

Now the fighter pilot, and now the chick, faced an urgent problem: trust a stranger and follow her, or stay here and think out a plan of action yourself. Everything had its pros and cons, and life itself depended on the decision. A difficult choice forced me to wait and "ask around" her until the final answer.

***

A group of mismatched creatures were sitting in a room lit by magic lamps. Griffins, ponies and changelings stood up when two large figures in gray cloaks entered the room. Throwing off more unnecessary things, the Alicorn sisters addressed the audience.

"Dear friends of the Order of the Iron Birds, it is with great pleasure that we would like to inform you that the Iron Bird was able to lay an egg before its death. The chick, who grew up by leaps and bounds, came to one of the cities of Equestria. He cannot understand our speech, his clothes are like darkened grass, and he himself does not look like anyone living today. We want everyone who can to give him protection. For, the Order of the Red Dragon will hunt him. So help the little son of the Iron Bird!"

Unexpected offer

A bloodhound. That was exactly what Twilight could be called now, hurrying to the city of Zheltokopytovo. Her quest to find the remains of the Bird unexpectedly led to someone who could give all the answers. Rumors whispered to her that someone connected with the gods had come to the city of the yellow plains. He is mute, fearless and strong. It is unclear how true these rumors are. Maybe half or even less.

But the lavender alicorn had enough of that. Abandoning the search for traces of ponies who dared to steal the princess's property, she, with small teleportation jumps, was rapidly approaching a new lead.

***

The tossed coins clattered loudly on the table. The decision has been made — it's too late to retreat. The last hour Kramarenko was doing what he could not understand the mare. More precisely, he realized almost immediately, but it was very difficult to believe in the existence of a sect dedicated to the three hundred and twenty-fourth fighter aviation division.

Having turned the drawings of ponies in his hands, having looked at them both this way and that, the pilot tried to recreate the picture on a relatively recent event for him. It turned out that a certain goddess sent her Iron Birds to protect the ponies from fierce and greedy dragons. Having clashed with them in the sky, the once great dragons fled. Yes, that's right: two regiments of fighters were the very saviors. Only one thing got in the way — it happened many, or very many, years ago, and there was no explanation for it.

Perhaps you just have to accept that magic and the world itself sometimes defy logical explanation… Or maybe just a person misunderstood the idea stated on paper.

All this time, the few visitors stopped eating altogether and watched with caution until the captain's gaze did not frighten them away. Something has changed their attitude towards him very much and it is unclear whether for the better or for the worse.

Feeling a pleasant heaviness in his stomach and not quite in his head, the pilot got up, threw his bag over his shoulder and moved after the unicorn in a gray raincoat. And that's in this weather?

The sun really began to get hot, but the green filly seemed not to notice it. The path along which she led was familiar: Kramarenko came to this town by it. The gun, though it did not inspire complete confidence, but it can save more than once. The main thing before such a situation is to be ready not to give up.

The silence, tacitly observed, was interrupted by a large figure standing on the road.

No one was here a minute ago. — with such thoughts, the officer prepared for battle, but did not show it outwardly in any way.

Suddenly, the traveler threw off his hood. Her lilac eyes were fixed on the pilot. Radiating unhealthy curiosity with her whole appearance, she began to approach closer. For some reason, there was a certainty that this lavender unicorn pony was not a timid ten and could stand up for itself.

***

Twilight was getting closer and closer by the minute. The cape coped with its duties perfectly. And now silhouettes of houses appeared among the yellow "sea".

Overjoyed, the princess began to squeeze everything out of short teleportations until she stood rooted to the spot, not believing her eyes: a tall creature was walking along the road, something resembling a minotaur, but more cute. Short black hair was thrown back, but the fur was not visible. Instead of her green clothes, already dirty enough from the dust and sweat that so abundantly flooded the Messenger of the Iron Bird. Looking at this, Rarity was horrified by this. No bright colors for you, jewelry or anything else like that. But if you look at it from the other side, it was perfect for stealth… However, somewhere in the woods. Here he still stood out.
Next to him was a green unicorn in a gray raincoat…

The Order of the Iron Birds! the lavender alicorn almost exclaimed.

Twilight turned off her disguise and appeared before the travelers. The eyes involuntarily gazed at the Messiah. A little more and she lost possession, rushing to a meeting. Restraining her stupid and childish impulse, Twilight put on an equanimity on her face.

The unicorn clearly did not expect such a turn, but taking herself in the hooves, took a threatening pose. This Order has always been famous for its disobedience and secrecy. For Twilight, it will not be possible to solve it by force, because the Order can avenge its messiah. And there are Iron Birds behind the Messiah himself. To touch him is to bring trouble on Equestria.

Stopping five steps away from the Messiah, as the front legs of Twilight Sparkle, Alicorn and Princess Equestria bent in an obsequious bow.

Don't screw it up, Twi. the thought flashed through while the rest of the brain was thinking about what to do next. But I didn't have to take the first step.

The creature slowly, as if communicating with a wild beast, crouched down and began stroking the head, carefully bypassing the area of the pony's long horn. No one dared to stop the alien and very soon he removed his soft paw. Who knows, maybe that's how he greets in his sign language. In any case, this is not aggression, which is already good.

Suddenly, he turned away and reached into his saddlebag, pulling out a couple of sheets and an ordinary pencil. Using the bag as a primitive writing stop, he handed the pencil to Alicorn. She looked at him with incomprehension.

"Just draw what you want from the Son of the Iron Bird." The follower of the Order muttered with displeasure.

Nodding intelligently to the unicorn, the princess telekinesis took writing materials. Now it is clear who he is considered in the Order.

Almost immediately, a crazy idea came up. Beautifully drawing every detail, Twilight wanted to fully reveal her thought. It took her three minutes, and now the finished result falls into the unusual clutches of the Messiah. With each passing second, the look of the small eyes and the expression of the face became more and more unreadable for the two ponies.

***

As soon as the leaf landed right in the calloused hands of the pilot, the welcoming smile disappears from his face, despite all efforts not to change his good-natured appearance. After all, what was on this piece of paper could plunge anyone into a stupor. The painted man was kissing a pony with a long horn and wings (he can be seen presenting himself) against the background of a simplified wedding setting. There are not many options here, or rather, only one: this purple pony wants to get married.

Looking once again at the lavender pony and comparing it with what I saw on the square in the town, a clarification arises — a dynastic marriage concluded between a representative of a civilization unknown to them with a representative of the local government, perhaps even of noble blood.

Lowering the sheet to chest level, unconsciously covering the art, Kramarenko shakes his head negatively. As much as he didn't want to offend her, he wasn't going to do that. It's better the bitter truth than the evasive lie.

Noticing the upset look of the purple and the dissatisfied person, the green one hissed something angrily first. But before she gave an answer, the pilot brought the sheet to the muzzle of the defender. But she was even more bullied and was already ready to rush into a righteous battle, ala crusader for the papal faith.

Before the discontent erupts, the fighter pilot's hands spread out in different directions in a conciliatory gesture. The power is still not the same here as on Earth. She is more… Is it soft or something? They don't drag an alien by force, they don't forge him in shackles, and they don't arrange interrogations. Maybe it's just a wrapper, or maybe it's true.

The purple pony didn't argue or beg. He sighed in disappointment, she flashed her horn at parting, disappeared in the same purple flash as her.

The green one just looked around in disbelief and, finding nothing suspicious, moved on.

Expecting some more actions on the part of Violet, Kramarenko guessed that this pony would not leave him so easily. Now the question is how will she appear and what will she offer next time? This question remains unanswered, however, like many others.

Burnt out Hope

Sunlight slowly penetrated into a gray house standing in the middle of a yellow field. Through the cracks, a light breeze carried warmth and the smell of life to where the foot of any pony would be afraid to step on the creaking boards of the old floor. From the outside, it might seem that this house has been empty for a long time, and there is nothing in its walls except old and crumbling furniture.

In one of the rooms of a lonely house, an equally lonely white pegasus with golden mane curls was sitting on the floor. A puddle of dried blood, and a couple of metal flasks left over from an unusual artifact and the same guest, reminded of the events of last night. The beautiful mare's eyes were filled with bitter tears, and her lips kept repeating and repeating:

"Why?.. Why?.."

The answer to her was the long-spoken words of the old unicorn: ... Cursed are you, child, for your heavenly beauty, and that's why the monster of the Night Darkness is now your second face. No spell can remove it, but a warrior. Forgive me, my child, but as long as you are dangerous, you will have to live far away from everyone and everything...

Having built a house far from the city, the ponies locked the pegasus in the valley with strong charms. In the first nights, the Darkness tried to break the magic, but it was all in vain. Cursed once, she was doomed to the terrible torments of an immortal existence. And there was no escape from this horror.

Getting to her feet, she began to wipe off the crimson stain that had already eaten into the floor of her "prison".

After so many years of loneliness, the name and speech began to be forgotten. Only talking to myself, keeping a diary and work did not allow me to slip into an animal state. From day one, she trained to take control of her dark side. And decades of perseverance have not been in vain. Pegasus was able to crush the Darkness inside her. But I still couldn't get out of the boundaries of my little world.

The wait dragged on for years of terrible loneliness until she found him. A strange creature, exhausted from the heat of the Celestian Sun, lay in a field. It was difficult not to help him. After giving him water and taking him under the roof from the scorching sun, Pegasus no longer wanted to let him go from her. The years of loneliness have affected.

After feeding the guest and letting him rest, the white pony drowned in dreams, completely forgetting about the power of Darkness in her dead heart. The mare did not think that the evil that had fallen asleep would wake up again. When it happened, it was too late. The dead disguise with renewed vigor repulsed the will of the beautiful pegasus, preparing to tear to pieces the only one alive in this house. But before that happened, the alien was already standing on the threshold of the room.

This look… A look full of horror and disgust she will never forget now. Let the foreigner be able to defeat the evil form, but the Darkness will take its rights back again the next night. He did not turn out to be the warrior who would remove this curse, and the hope fading in years burst into a bright flame only to burn out in unfulfilled expectations.

"No!" the cry escaped by itself, no longer obeying reason. Pony jumped to her feet, forgetting about weakness and malaise.

She was hardened by such an existence, and she could not call it life. And so she decided that it was better to meet her fate in the cleansing fire than the way she did—slowly and painfully going crazy.

Resolutely, wanting to end all this, she began to break furniture and tear fabrics, throwing it all into one pile. And soon a mountain of combustible junk stood alone in an empty room.

The time, approaching noon, seemed to stand still in anticipation. The trembling hooves held a candle with a small but proud flame. The fear, previously drowned out by rage, returned. Suddenly there was a faint whisper in my head from the depths of consciousness:

"Not necessary… Stop it…"

The summoned words made the pegasus tremble, and now another fear began to take hold of the poor pony. The darkness was even stronger than she remembered. So someday the white pony will lose control completely, and the Darkness will be the rightful mistress in this body. This was the last feather that outweighed the scales, and the hooves unclenched the burden. Tears sprang from her eyes and a heavy sigh came out of the little pony.

A fallen candle thudded. Immediately, a small and weak light began to devour the scraps of a blue dress hanging nearby, quickly moving on to other things. The power of this element joyfully accepted the sacrifice, surrounding the lost hope with a wall of flame. Pegasus's cry of pain was drowned in the roar of the fire, taking her into her last embrace…

***

A blue column of smoke was rising from somewhere on the horizon. Kramarenko stopped and leaned his free hand against his forehead, trying to see something through the bright rays of the received Sun. But no matter how much the pilot squinted, he could not see more.

The estate of two sisters

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."

Order of the Iron Bird

A little respite for Kramarenko came out cozy and calm, as if there were no talking colored ponies nearby. But it couldn't go on forever. There will come a moment of abrupt decisions and instant actions, which you will have to regret later.

Before starting, the pilot nodded gratefully for the good-natured hospitality of the hostesses, put the cup on the floor and pulled out clean sheets and a blurred pencil. The white pony used her cloud of magic again to take them, but then put them aside. Before there is a misunderstanding on the person's face, a yellow cloud began to form into figures. A large bird (more like an airplane than real birds), covered with numerous wounds, fell down like a stone. Before she reached the floor, a ball with a man inside separated from her.

Pony's version of events. Good.

After waiting for an affirmative nod, the mare continued. Now two ponies have appeared, presumably themselves. Standing in a respectful bow in front of the bird-MIG, behind which flew jets of fire, arrows. The wings and body of the car served as a shield for two ponies, which, apparently, were hiding from the horror of the war. Other planes appeared, rushing at the invisible enemy. The firing of cannons was also transmitted quite plausibly. As soon as the fight ended, the birds flew up to the heavens and the bright Sun. After disappearing, the ponies found themselves with a calendar rapidly counting down the days, months, and years.

"Having won the battle against the fire-breathing lizards, we were able to return back. The time of this world is very different from ours. I would never have thought that we are the messengers of Heaven." The captain mentally chuckled, but he did not show it, for fear of giving a false impression to these two.

And so, after a long time, a man grew up between them. Now their wings were hidden from danger and pain, their bodies served as a shield.

Now everything makes sense.

A short, but therefore no less important, conclusion left an incomprehensible feeling. On the one hand, happiness that they will not leave in trouble, and on the other ... — Who am I now?

I didn't have time to digest this part of the "conversation", as they got up and called for me. Following them, the man walked to an inconspicuous, at first glance, arch. Suddenly they stopped and cleared a passage in front of massive doors decorated with mysterious writings and signs associated with the pilot to one degree or another.

Having clearly expressed with a glance that Kramarenko should open himself, they remained standing waiting. Without tormenting his mild curiosity, the pilot pushed the doors and they obediently opened, revealing a view of a stone staircase illuminated by lights of unknown origin.

Carefully descending, the pilot of the downed MiG, out of habit, put his hand on his pistol holster. There was another door in front of him, but without a carving. Taking a deep breath and releasing heavy thoughts along with the air, he opened the last barrier to another mystery of this world…

***

"Twilly, are you all right?"

Worried friends rushed to Canterlot as fast as they could. The lavender Princess was trembling slightly and breathing fast. At first, she didn't even notice the five mares that appeared in the throne room. But when Twilight was able to focus on them, a forced smile lit up her face.

"Thank you for being able to drop everything. It is very important." she was silent for a couple of moments, pondering something, and then in one breath blurted out, "I need your help! An ancient evil has come to Equestria and I cannot cope alone."

With bated breath, the former bearers of the elements of harmony were preparing to learn another threat to their calm Equestria.

"It is a hairless creature on two legs, calling itself the great Mission of the Iron Birds."what came out of her mouth turned out to be completely different. She didn't want to say that!

"Iron Birds? Is this from that fairy tale for little pegasus?" Rainbow Dash, the best flyer, spoke doubtfully.

"It's true! And the ruthless messenger of the dark forces is already preparing his death blow!" Twilight continued to talk nonsense.

Biting her lip, Applejack expressed concern:

"Sugar… It seems very strange to me. Maybe you went overboard with reading legends and coffee again? Until today, you said the same thing about aliens from the stars dancing to a magic flute. I'm sorry, but your words don't inspire much confidence..."

"I agree with Applejack."Fluttershy was quiet and laconic as always.

The rest just nodded as a sign that they did not support the idea of looking for some mythical creature from a fairy tale.

With a disappointed sigh, lavender alicorn replied:

"Yes, girls, maybe you're right... ancient legends are a real addiction for me. It is difficult to give up the search for new knowledge and answers. I'm sorry."

After exchanging glances, all five mares rushed to hug their friend, saying all sorts of encouraging words. They sincerely believed that their princess was a little carried away, not even knowing the real Evil that lurked inside the pony.

***

Kramarenko was standing on the podium, and in front of him, a couple of dozen creatures of all colors and stripes bowed to the ground in a pious bow. Some of them he recognized immediately, such as ponies, griffins and zebras, and the rest he could only guess. They all wore gray cloaks, like Lyra's. By the way, she was there too.

Looking down, the pilot said in a low voice:

"Good evening," and then he remembered that no one would understand him and fell silent.

But this was enough for the fans to rise as one with their heads proudly raised and sparkling happy eyes.

The familiar blue and white ponies came up. The people did not stint and bow to them. Speaking in an angelic voice, the blue mare addressed someone from the crowd. Immediately, several ponies came out of the hall. And when they returned, they carried with them a chain mail and a sword. Having accepted the gifts, the blue pony unfolded the chain mail with its magical cloud. It glittered silver, as did the sword decorated with secret runes. Kramarenko did not resist when ponyasha began to dress him in defense of the Middle Ages.

It turned out to be not so heavy, and it sits as if poured in. — a resident of the twentieth century admired the skill of the blacksmiths of the fairy-tale world.

Then it was the turn of the weapon. Putting the deadly weapon into hands that didn't even know how to handle it, she retreated a few steps. Standing in this form and not fully understanding the motives of the pony, an elegant leather scabbard with an embroidered bird instantly floated up to the pilot.

Logically speaking, they are waiting for some action with a sword. Now we have to decide whether to raise it, symbolizing war, readiness to fight, or to put it in the scabbard, talking about peace, not readiness for the campaign.

Slowly, acting in front of the audience, the pilot inserted the sword, a weapon bearing death and pain, into the scabbard, but did not remove his hand from the hilt.

The war in Korea is enough for me. I will not become a knight of this world. It's better to solve it in peace, if it's possible.

Accepting the sign, the crowd bowed their heads, respecting the decision of the Son of the Iron Bird.

The Magic of music

"Princess, the Harmony squad has been built," reported a young, ardent stallion, who received the rank of lieutenant the day before.

It was the same dozen who guarded the remains of the Iron Bird and so shamefully buried them. Now another, more brutal and decisive, was appointed commander. No one from the Guard knew what Twilight's choice was due to. As they say: the orders of the great princesses are not discussed, they are carried out.

"Great," the lavender alicorn said with a hissing sound. "Go to the Barren Lands immediately. There you need to find a certain pegasus, who calls himself Blood Tuf. This is one of the followers of the Order of the Red Dragon."

The tall mare leaned towards the young officer with a devil's own grin.

"S-remember: if this colt refuses to come to me, then feel free to cut his throat, as well as anyone else who decides to resist…"

"That's right, my princess. Kill anyone who resists."despite the awe and fear of her, his voice did not waver.

Nodding contentedly, Twilight teleported in front of the lieutenant a letter with an impression of red sealing wax in the form of a royal cutie mark and a tablet with detailed maps.

"This is everything you need. Now go away."as a sign of her words, Alicorn turned her back to the soldiers, thus ending the conversation.

The Harmony squad left the main hall, preparing to immediately march into the Badlands.

***

The light of an alien moon flooded the pilot's room. The feeling of peace did not leave him, as if it had always been so. In the semi-darkness, his washed clothes could be seen hanging on the door. Thanks to these cute ponies.

Quickly putting on his undershirt and underpants, he left the bedroom barefoot. I really wanted to get some fresh night air. Without breaking the silence, the pilot overcame a creaking staircase and a corridor dimly lit by magical lights.

The garden greeted the pilot with a rustling of leaves, and the chirping of crickets. Squatting under a young apple tree and bending his legs, Kramarenko looked at the Moon, so beautiful and close, only a hand is worth stretching out. Thoughts flowed slowly, slowly. Everything was there: the past hard life under the tracers of messers, and the new one in Korea, and the current situation in the world of ponies, dragons and other myths. Here, too, there are those who dislike the Soviet officer, whom fate-the villain threw here. But are there also friends here to entrust life into their hands?

And so the man sat, looking at the night sky and not counting the moments that had passed, merging into long minutes. At one point, he wasn't the only one in the garden. Turning his head, changing his position, the pilot looked at the blue pony, so inconspicuous even in the blue light of the satellite of the planet.

***

Luna looked with mixed feelings at her Son, who was sitting under a tree and smiling affably at her. Dressed in his white shirt, he looked more and more like a faded star. Sadness and loneliness devoured the young celestial.

He patted invitingly next to him, inviting her to admire this warm, serene night. Sitting down next to him, the mare felt her Son snuggle up to her blue side and hugged her. In response, her wing covered her back, agreeing to these hugs. It was all she could give him now.

So gentle and good—natured, unlike his death-bearing Parents, he could have been raised by his sisters on the basis of the Elements of Harmony: honesty, kindness, laughter, generosity, loyalty and the magic of friendship. He is a child, albeit unusual, but also alien to pain and suffering.

The moon was moving further and further away from the canons and stereotypes of Iron Birds, further and further away from her sister.

Usually silent, the Son began to sing softly. Other people's words were only a few lines like that when the blue mare heard them in her head:

"Kak ya lyublyu glubinu tvoikh laskovykh glaz!" (How I love the depth of your tender eyes!)

"Kak ya khochu k nim prizhatsya seychas gubami!" (How I want to press my lips to them now!)

"Temnaya noch razdelyayet, lyubimaya, nas." (The dark night divides us, my love,)

"I trevozhnaya, chernaya step prolegla mezhdu nami." (And an alarming, black steppe lay between us.)

Pony's heart beat faster and her breathing quickened, and her lips already picked up the tune and words themselves, clearly singing them:

"Veryu v tebya, v doroguyu podrugu moyu." (I believe in you, my dear friend,)

"Eta vera ot puli menya temnoy nochyu khranila." (This faith kept me safe from a bullet on a dark night.)

"Radostno mne, Ya spokoyen v smertelnom boyu." (I am happy, I am calm in mortal combat,)

"Znayu. vstretish s lyubovyu menya, chto b so mnoy ni sluchilos." (I know you will meet me with love, no matter what happens to me.)

Now, in trembling admiration, the Son opened his mouth in surprise. These were not Russian words, but the miracle of music allowed him to hear them as his native speech. His eyes met the moon, tears glistening on them. The mare pulled him in, wrapping both wings around him now. The head fell on the soft breast and the Moon kissed him on the top of his head, like a loving mother of a foal. Her foal. Pony was ready to cry. How many years of dreams, how many heavy loads of eternal life behind fragile shoulders. Now she is ready to forget, reset everything and start from scratch.

"I... I love you... you won't be alone anymore." the moon sniffed, smiling through tears of happiness.

From a dark room, through a panoramic window, Celestia looked at it without expressing any emotions. After seeing enough, she lowered her head and wandered back into the room.

Dark night (Тёмная ночь)

***

Dawn found the Harmony squad at a halt in the Barren Lands. Two scouts returned with good news: there is a secret passage to the lair through the old temple of dragons. According to one of the pegasus, it has not been used for several decades.

The lieutenant immediately ordered to act. Tired, but ready to atone for their past failure, the warriors moved forward. They won't disappoint their princess anymore.

Sabotage and division

In the semi-darkness of the corridors pierced in the mountain, the whole group of guards was walking. Even the light of the magical fireflies of unicorns could not completely disperse the old darkness. Every now and then the poorly hewn walls took on the bizarre shapes of ancient dragons.

Soon, the outlines of an oak door, bound with rusted metal, appeared. By someone's carelessness, the door was not locked, but it was still heavy and unoiled, which made the three Earth ponies have to sweat a lot before they could move it for free passage. And again the corridor. It is not often seen in this part of the lair and the torches have long been covered with dust.

At the end of the way they were met by a bas-relief with the head of the king of the old dragons above the gate. Once painted blood-red, and now with peeling paint, he looked with empty eyes at a dozen ponies, opening his mouth in an angry growl.

The lieutenant silently lifted up a hoof, ordering everyone to stop. Removing the saddlebags, the squad took out gray cloaks. One of the tasks set by the princess was as follows:

Force the Order of the Red Dragon to mistake the Harmony Squad for their opponents, the Order of the Iron Bird.

After changing clothes and preparing weapons for battle, one of the unicorns teleported to the other side of the small gate. There was a thud and a soft moan. After a couple of seconds, the pony opened the gate. There was a diamond dog lying at the entrance with a dent in his helmet. That's what the lack of discipline in the guard of calm and relatively safe places leads to.

"Go ahead," the young lieutenant said in an undertone, and the first one moved to the center of the lair.

The unicorns threw magic blunt spears at the two guards who appeared around the corner until they had time to wake up and raise the alarm. One of them was still conscious. After quickly interrogating the guard about a certain Blood Tyuf, the commander of the Harmony squad changed direction, hoping to take a prisoner first.

The guards who encountered singles and twos were dealt with as quickly as the first ones, without encountering much resistance.

Apparently, none of the leadership counted on sabotage by opponents. Well, the information will be really important for drawing up a complete picture in the future report, the lieutenant reasoned sensibly, climbing another twisted staircase.

The wooden door that appeared should become the final destination, according to the words of the interrogated guard. And he was not deceived: when the guards burst in, they saw a gray earth pony at a large table with a lot of papers and a typewriter. His round-rimmed glasses were askew and his eyes were bloodshot.

"Who dared to disturb me while working?!" and he shut his mouth, realizing who was standing on his doorstep.
An evil grin lit up the lieutenant's muzzle as Blood Tyuf trembled at the sight of soldiers in silver cloaks.

"Take him!"

Two pegasus deftly threw a magic collar on the prisoner and dragged him to the exit of the office made in the Order's favorite red tones. Then an earth pony approached the lieutenant and reported the approach of the soldiers of the Order of the Red Dragon who had recovered.

"Attention! Squad! Line up for a breakthrough!"

***

For the rest of the night, Luna sat with her Son in the open sky, and only with the sunrise they disappeared into the manor, in the dim room of the blue mare. A large bed made in the form of a crescent moon, several lockers and nightstands with a large silver mirror, that's all that the younger sister of alicorn had. She always retained a love of minimalism, unlike Celestia, who was accustomed to the richest decorations. The guest did not sit on the perfectly made bed, remaining standing at the door while Luna rummaged through one of the lockers. She returned already with the medallion of the pale Moon, bound with silver and gold.

Handing it to her Son, she clearly whispered:

"No matter where you are, no matter what happens, a piece of my magic will always be there for you."

As if knowing the meaning of the words spoken by the Moon, he carefully put the medallion around his neck. Getting down on one knee, the Son tenderly embraced the mare, expressing his "thank you". The blue pony's eyes began to fill with tears of maternal love again, but a light knock on the door broke the moment of unity of such dissimilar creatures.

"Sister?"

Celestia was standing on the other side of the door.

"Luna... um, could you spare a little of your time—there's a conversation."

"Of course. What do you want to talk about, Tia?"

The white mare who entered began to shift from one foot to the other, chewing her lip.

"You see, it would be better to do it alone, without my Son."

After taking a close look at her older sister, Luna replied a little coolly:

"I have no secrets from my foal. Say it here and now."

Thrown into a stupor by these words, Celestia quickly admitted defeat.

"Okay."

***

Kramarenko was standing between two mares arguing about something. The cool metal of the medallion reminded of itself. Without removing it from his neck, the pilot raised it to his eyes, examining the blue-white moon and the inscription engraved on the edge. Let the captain of the downed MiG still did not fully understand the essence of what was happening, but from the colors already available, so to speak, he could paint a picture with his understanding of these incomplete days.

Having put the medallion back under his undershirt, Kramarenko returned his attention to the mares. From their tone, it could be understood that the man who had recently appeared in the manor had greatly influenced their relationship. They resembled two sisters, one of whom was the eldest and experienced, and the second was very sensual, relying more on the call of the heart.

The night turned out to be even more interesting: the pilot, deep in himself, despite the language barrier, was able to "connect" himself with the blue pony with a close relationship similar to a younger brother and a loving older sister or mother and child.

Bad or good, it can show the behavior of a white pony. Her attitude to such fraternization is clearly not positive. The captain is seen here as a kind of demigod child, albeit weak, but still a celestial being. Bows, smiles, help, all this is only respectful, unlike the "younger sister" with bright emotions.

Their conversation ended rather quickly, having reached some kind of compromise in tone. Of course, it may not be quite so, because this is only the judgment of one person who understands little.

The mares finally turned their attention to the pilot and the white one waved her wing and let them follow her. On the right side, a blue one stood up and put her head under her arm, pressed her warm side.

The path turned out to be familiar, leading to the underground rooms of the house. There they were met by the already familiar unicorn Lyra. Bowing, she took out a bunch of keys and handed them to the white mare. No one else met Kramarenko on the way. When they reached the cherished doors and fiddled with the locks, the ponies opened them with their magic. In the great hall, in the illumination of many magical lights, lay the skeleton of a downed Mig and on a stand the dropped parachute and winter clothes of the pilot.

Remains of an Iron Bird

The fuselage is almost in tatters, the engine is completely destroyed, as are the fuel tanks... Kramarenko stated to himself, walking around his plane.
Two ponies carefully, with a spark of regret, watched the man's movements.

"Even if there is something useful left, there will be little sense in it. But it's worth checking." — the pilot turned back to the mistresses of the estate.

The idea of mares for the pilot was understandable, but how immoral would it be for fans if the "child" decides to dig into the insides of his "parent"? If you don't check, you won't find out.

The blue mare came up to the pilot and hugged him with her wings. Still unaccustomed to tenderness, he patted her on the soft back in a friendly way.

I'm attached, poor thing. In vain you are so, it will be more difficult to part with me. the pilot thought sadly, responding to the hug.

Calming down, pony released the man, looking at him encouragingly. Kramarenko's stomach rumbled treacherously, demanding to fill the empty space in his stomach. A smile slid across the filly's muzzle. Her love for the only person in this world grew by the hour and he did not doubt the sincerity of her feelings.

Returning back to the surface, the pilot was taken to the dining room. The round table in the center was simply bursting with a large number of various dishes. Like a caring mother, the blue pony made her wash her hands and face. If not for the circumstances, Kramarenko just stayed by her side until the end of his days. But a house is a house. One can only be touched by her assumed severity when she checked him for cleanliness.

While the pilot was washing, the second pony brought a chair upholstered with something soft. During all the time spent here, Kramarenko also learned that ponies never sit on chairs. But it is also correct, they are not supposed to be anatomically.

After the conversation in the room, the white mare no longer smiled as she had done before. The hands reached out to her by themselves, while the head was thinking of something of its own. Pulling her to his chest and gently, without touching the wings, stroked her silky fur. The pony shuddered at the touch and wanted to recoil, but the pilot squeezed his arms a little tighter, not letting go. After a little reflection on what was happening, the big filly responded to the tenderness from the pilot, letting out a heavy sigh. After standing in this position for a minute, Kramarenko released her. If this is not an everyday mask, then the pony really got better: a thoughtful and gloomy look left, and his eyes shone.

Before the pilot could move away, a blue one jumped on them from behind with a cheerful squeal. Now they were in an embrace, involuntarily clinging to each other. The feeling of family happiness also gripped the person. Laughter burst out, causing the others to laugh contagiously.

***

The family idyll is so close and so far away. One has only to stretch out a hoof and you will touch it, but at the same time your touch will crumble into dust, what your soul so desires. While Luna hugged her treasure and her sister, the fears matured and grew faster. His Son's laughter, sincere and good-natured, went against the ideas of all the legends of the Iron Birds. Now it was the turn of Celestia, the sister, to understand this.

A recent conversation gave away all her thoughts about all these too close relationships with her Son. For Tia, he remained an unattainable, unfeeling celestial being, whom one should fear and respect. For Luna to stay only with her sister was like death. She loved this creature so much. For several days now, none of the gods or celestial Iron Birds had come to Equestria for him. Then why should we give up the adopted foal is not quite a pony? Maybe the Iron Bird was expelled from its high clouds and no one should be expected. This idea was given by Luna to her older sister. It was difficult to challenge her, but she did not change her opinion. Changed all the sudden embraces on the part of the Son, settling doubts in Celestia.

"See, Sister, he's just like us. Luna whispered in Tia's ear.

"Not really, but love and friendship are not alien to him," the sister agreed.

Having finished hugging and untangled, pony and Son sat down at the table. Celestia's eyes were immediately riveted to the cakes and pies proudly standing in the center of all the dishes. Following this look, Luna indignantly said:

"No. Knowing you, you will eat all the sweets again and neither me nor my Son will get it. You've already eaten your croup."

"It's not true, I have a toned croup." the older sister replied with fake resentment in her voice.

The son only grinned at the playfully-minded mares and began, as it should be, according to etiquette, to fill his plate with different dishes. Celestia began to understand more why her sister became so attached and motherly in love with the Celestial. But it is impossible to take into account everything — her former student Twilight, now the beautiful ruler of all Equestria, has proved this in practice.

I wonder how Tway is now. Is she looking for a Son or has she already given up this idea? No, it's unlikely, she's stubborn and getting to the bottom of it is part of her character. Maybe we'll even see each other and I'll be proud to say that she solved another mystery and legend about the Iron Bird Festival. — thought Celestia, devouring the salad and looking regretfully at the sweets.

Today she showed her Son the remains of the Iron Bird, the Celestial Empire and his parent. There was a feeling that he was not sorry or sad at all, but even examined her with some composure. You can put it down to the fact that he was only recently born, but somehow does not fit with his knowledge and skills. Only one thing justifies everything that is happening — its unearthly origin.

***

The Guards steadfastly took blow after blow, and then counterattacked themselves, gradually moving towards the exit. Poorly disciplined soldiers of the Order could not break the soldiers of the Harmony squad who were prepared for almost everything. The whole dozen acted as a single organism: the spears of the Earth ponies did not allow them to get too close, the pegasi attacked the weakened flanks and, in case of danger, avoided a direct collision, and the unicorns could hold the dome of protection from the fire of young dragons and magicians of the Order or disable strong opponents themselves.

A small group of ponies managed to escape from the branched passages of the lair outside, leaving behind angry and beaten soldiers. Now the squad had to gallop and break away from their pursuers, which was not so easy: dragons, griffins and pegasus watched every step of the guards, sometimes attacking them in a dive attack. But the Harmony squad is elite enough to be able to go through such difficulties. And this case was no exception. The Guards skillfully repelled the attacks, increasing the distance between them and the main enemy forces.

Soon, the winged raids stopped and the soldiers were able to breathe more freely. My strength was at the limit, but my anger and thirst to regain my invincibility turned out to be higher. They were able to go out to a previously found cave in the Barren Lands and exhale. The lieutenant ordered to block the entrance with stones and announced a rest. Having posted sentries, everyone went to bed, only one could not sleep, the one who is responsible for the entire diversion.

It was hard, but not impossible. It's a small matter — to wait for the night and return to Canterlot under the cover of darkness. the commander of Harmony reflected, looking at the small flames of the already dying fire.

Your name is Sunrise

"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.

The Night Killer

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!"

The end of the Cold War

No one slept a wink until dawn. The sisters never left Sunrise's side while the others patrolled the perimeter and guarded the house. Everyone felt guilty before the Son of the lost Iron Bird; so to let down his celestial, his idol…

The long night ended and the first rays of the Sun illuminated the tired and tense creatures. One of the Pegasus went to negotiate with the Order of the Red Dragon. Many understood that this was the beginning of the war. They will have to take up arms again, like their predecessors hundreds of years ago.

Celestia was sitting by the window, watching the rising yellow ball. For thousands of years she raised it, for thousands of years she did not know rest. After leaving the post of ruler of Equestria, she lost not only the shackles, but also the ways to influence the world. Alicorn did not want blood and slaughter, but only the current princess, Twilight, could prevent the dragons from providing at least some help to the Order of the Red Dragon.

Taking out a pen, ink and parchment, Celestia began to write a letter to her former student. It's time to give her the answers to get help in return.

***

This is a good thing — magic.

Kramarenko was sitting on the bed in the company of a white pony, watching her scribble something in her letter. My chest no longer hurt, but the dark spot of the bruise still reminded me of a "fun" night. Nervously stroking the pistol, taking out the clip and checking the operability of his personal weapon again, the pilot thought about no, no, yes about a bony old woman with a scythe. Even though he wasn't an empath and couldn't read minds, he knew the tension of the ongoing war perfectly well. But this time the pilot was without his winged car, and he was not protecting him, but him. Moreover, knowing that it is his person who is the reason for active actions.

Inserting the missing cartridges into the clip, the pilot put the TT back into the holster. The knife was now also hanging on his belt, in the same expectation of a new day. Smoothing his unruly hair, Kramarenko stood up. Clean, but slightly crumpled tunic and trousers complemented the image of a serious-minded person. He tapped the bones of the officer's boots in a military manner and turned to Tia, touching the white shoulder. She, still not finished with the letter, raised her head questioningly looking at the pilot who had disturbed her.

Again I had to explain my wishes on the "fingers". Understanding him, Tia shook her head negatively, which angered the pilot a little. Ponies can also be understood: for them, he is the only one who needs to be protected from everyone and everything. But Kramarenko was sure that everything would be different now; now he is ready for emergency situations. And who will attack in broad daylight, where all the "airplane worshippers" go armed to the teeth? It was too risky, especially after the night's failure.

But we still need to somehow persuade them to use magic electricity for my gun. If it doesn't work out, then all this fuss with the plane will be meaningless.

After taking another look at the busy mare, the man quietly left the room and moved from memory to the hall with the remains of the plane.

***

A bound changeling from the Order of the Red Dragon was sitting in a small room full of various junk. The moon, cold and sharp as steel itself, asked again:

"Either you tell Us the whole truth, or..."

Before the mare could voice her threat, the prisoner laughed and coughed up green blood.

"Never. I will never betray my idea and my brothers! The Order..."

A hoof strike silenced the changeling and groaned in pain.

"Then I have no other choice. The moon whispered softly and ominously.

Her horn lit up with a blue light, blinding almost anyone who dared to look. A mental spell burst from the tip of the horn, plastering the unsuccessful killer. Green blood flowed from the eyes, nose and ears of the blue alicorn's personal enemy struggling with the spell. The prisoner could no longer scream, he was controlled by the Moon. The mortal's knowledge flowed like a river into Pony's mind, but her ability to pull memories out of her head is still as good after a thousand years. Skillfully finding the right bits of information from the countless stream, Luna stopped her spell. The Changeling fell like a sack on the floor, into his pool of blood. The killer's organs of vision were burned out. He's dead. A side effect of such a convenient interrogation, forbidden by Celestia many hundreds of years ago.

Putting the details into one, the Moon sat down from the realization that now she saw: the Order of the Red Dragon is going to war on them. Someone provoked them by stealing a valuable member, a certain pony Blood Tyuf.

"But who would do such a thing?"

The Battle of the Two Orders

Kramarenko looked at his wrist: the commander's watch showed five o'clock exactly. The sun disappeared behind the clouds, giving the endless steppe even more golden shades on the horizon. The officer's personal weapon rested in a holster and scabbard. There are only fourteen rounds left. Not much here and you can fight with a gun. Therefore, a large scabbard with a silver sword hung behind his back, and the body was protected by the same chain mail and a hastily sewn, but not bad, poddospeshnik, very similar to a quilted jacket.

Changing his position so that the blood would disperse through the body, the pilot lay down next to the airbag. The four shells found were pleasing to the eye, glittering in the sometimes peeking rays of the Sun. Now he is temporarily the commander and gunner of the artillery crew of a small-caliber cannon. Lyra became the loader. The light green unicorn could not understand for a long time what was required of her, but only with the proper skill and perseverance of a Soviet pilot, she took on the role of electricity to supply shells. And now, sitting by her side, in her invariable raincoat, the mare was looking out of the window with concentration.

Well done the pilot thought, Hope for exploration, but don't do it yourself.

The Pegasi had to warn in advance about the approach of the enemy. If the pilot understood everything correctly, he will have to deal with two dragons. Why they don't make up the majority in the squad is unclear.

They didn't let me get bored. The blue pegasus barked something at Lyra and sped off.

"They're coming, bastards. Kramarenko whispered angrily and once again checked the makeshift fastenings of the cannon to the window frame and floor.

After making sure that the gun would not fly out from the recoil into the room, the pilot raised his hand up, signaling Lyra to be ready to fire. The Gorynychs will be here any minute. And this time Kramarenko does not have a weighty argument in the form of a jet fighter.

***

Celestia stood in golden armor, next to her sister, holding a halberd in a magical grip. She hoped never to get them again, but, apparently, not fate. Twilight will not come to the rescue, you can only hope for yourself.

The moon saw in the upcoming battle the shadow of the former battles of the first centuries, after their becoming Alicorns. Only one thing had changed: not only the existence of the entire Order was at stake, but also the fate of Sunrise. Iron Birds never arrive just like that. In a way, the Son of the Messiah, changing everyone he met on his way. And the Moon will do everything so that this path does not end.

"Sister, Tia. If I fall, accept Sunrise as your own colt and raise him."

"No, the Moon. We'll raise him together."

A sad smile flashed across the mare's cold-blooded muzzle. The warm words of the elder sister warmed her heart, but the thought of death did not go far, still sitting in the darkness of her mind.

"They're coming. Luna said and took out a long sword from its scabbard.

The procedure was planned in advance. The big house turned into a fortress. Sunrise and Lyra were sitting behind a wall with a thunder-fang of a dead Bird. Their task was two middle-aged dragons. Not so much, but not so little. Their natural immunity to magic and strong scales prevented them from being struck down with an ordinary sword or spell. The other members of the Order had to keep a circular defense at home and, having exhausted the enemy, rush to the attack. If everything goes wrong, Luna and Celestia will fight the dragons while the others distract the remaining ones.

"Are we starting?"

Celestia nodded and together with her sister began to conjure a shield from the fire of dragons and other people's magic.

***

Two dots appeared in the field of vision, rapidly approaching. Two mighty dragons flew straight at Kramarenko and his charging Lyra.

Early the pilot estimated the distance, remaining in ambush.

The unicorn twitched, feeling the strong tension of the pilot. The big lizards were approaching with great speed and they could already be hit, but there was no shot. The thought turned out to be correct: the dragons spat fire and turned around for the next approach. At that moment, they lost speed and maneuverability.

There was no time and shells to shoot, and the pilot aimed at the barrel.

"Come on!" he yelled and jumped away from the cannon.

The light green mare did not disappoint, quickly lit the horn and directed it towards the cannon. A spark and a small discharge of current found its way. A loud and sharp shot rang out. The gun jerked back from the powder gases, but a kind of fastening made of chains, ropes and junk withstood, while not falling apart. A small projectile pierced the rather large wing of the fire-breathing lizard, leaving a laceration. A roar of pain echoed over the field, inspiring the defenders.

The dragon landed on the ground, where the forces of other motley creatures that had just come up were waiting. Kramarenko even noticed dog faces that had never been seen before. Without becoming fixated and rejoicing at the successful start of the battle, the pilot again fell to heavy weapons. The goal was the same. The second dragon gained altitude and disappeared from sight. It is unlikely that he will fall into the same trap.

"Come on," the man shouted once again, having previously removed his face from the trunk.

And again a thunderous shot. By. The shell passed nearby and buried itself in the ground. Correction and fire. Only the last, the fourth, killed the dragon.

"That's it. I'm empty." the pilot spoke and took out his sword.
The second dragon was still pouring fire from afar, sometimes missing. It was clear that he was very afraid of such an end. The main part of the enemy's forces has already come within firing distance. The defenders of the house shot what they could: some with magic rays, some with arrows, and darts. The attackers snapped, firing continuously.

Suddenly two figures flashed by, immediately soaring up. It was Tia and Vuna. If you fail to get all the dragons out of standing, then they will finish this business.

Kramarenko rushed to the exit, holding a silver sword at the ready. The doors were already open: some of the fans of the Migar had time to rush into the melee. Several more creatures and ponies were behind the pilot.
Loudly shouting "Hurrah", Kramarenko himself moved towards the enemy. Everyone took part in the battle and he did not want to be an exception because of his foreign origin.

The first to get in the way was an upright dog, slightly below the average height of a man, in leather armor and a spear. A short red raincoat completed the scanty uniforms. The pilot jumped away from the spear thrust, reducing the distance to a couple of steps. With a dissecting blow from the shoulder, the man inflicted a wound in the place of the collarbone. The dog fell to the ground, moaning in pain. The second swing of the sword landed in the neck, instantly stopping the torment of the creature. A black ray flashed over Kramarenko's head.

Turning to the new threat on the left, he saw a black unicorn five meters away. A sinister grin flashed across his face and another ray slid off his horn. The pilot did not have time to dodge, but the unicorn did not succeed either. The magic hit the yellow translucent shield. And the next moment, the black wizard was struck by a yellow ray, frying his muzzle. Lyra was standing next to her in light scaled armor. With a grateful nod to the unicorn who saved him, the pilot took out a pistol and transferred it to his left hand. Having looked over the boiling battle, Kramarenko's gaze caught on two pegasuses in red raincoats. They stood with their backs to him, mercilessly attacking the grey-cloaked griffin. It turned out to be fatal for them. Taking aim, the pilot put his finger on the trigger and pressed immediately.

Three shots and two more opponents lie lifeless. The griffin got up and flew up to meet a pony beetle, the same one that came at night to make an attempt. Their blades crossed. The bird-beast blinded the white beetle with its beak, and then finished it off with curved blades.

The next target was a simple pony, walking like a battering ram on Kramarenko. Letting him get closer, the pilot fired one shot and rushed towards the wounded enemy. And then he stabbed the pony's head with a stabbing blow.
The hand-to-hand slaughter was clearly on the side of the "grey cloaks". They won battles here and there, instilling fear in their enemies. The personal participation of the pilot raised their spirits, inspiring them to their victories.

***

At a safe distance, standing on the hill of Twilight Eclipse. Her coat color has become darker, almost black, and the mane developing in the magic wind has acquired the same dark shades. The cat's pupils watched with amusement what was happening below and in the air battles.

The final

Kramarenko saw the second and last dragon, beaten by the alicorns, descend. He didn't have long to live and spit fire. Distracted for a couple of moments, the pilot almost got an arrow in the chest. He was saved by a lilac magic bubble, about which the arrow just bounced to the side.

The battle was boiling everywhere, everything was mixed up, he could not immediately make out who helped him. Holding a bloody sword at the ready and examining all the unicorns nearby, the pilot still missed the moment when the familiar lavender pony hornwing appeared. She has undergone some changes since the last meeting, starting to look a little ominous.

You can't judge a book by its cover, the thought flashed through. But this 'book' is not credible.

The man prepared to shoot to kill at the first signs of hostility, fortunately he realized that there are those who can try on someone else's face like clothes. But pony didn't show any evil intentions.

"What do you want?" the pilot asked in an incredulous tone.

The purple bubble around them began to gain color, sometimes pulsating. Immersed in the semi-darkness and silence, the pilot did not take the barrel of the pistol off the target, ready to press it.

Suddenly, a dark purple mare fell on her front legs in front of the pilot, spreading her wings in a special bow. Her head was almost touching the ground, but her eyes were still looking at him.

"We are Twilight Eclipse-s, Princes of Equestria. I recognize you, sir, O Great Mass!" pony answered in Russian with a hiss and a strong accent in her voice.

Kramarenko looked at Twilight Eclipse in surprise, not believing his ears.

"How do you know my language?"

She giggled and answered with obvious pleasure, getting back to her feet:

"This is only a small part of my abilities, Messiah. If you allow me to become your patron and come under my wing, I will give you whatever you want!"

Her eulogies and enticement were not for nothing and the pilot understood that the fee for this would be disproportionately large.

"But in return?" the man raised an eyebrow.

"In return, you, Mass-siya, share your knowledge of the celestial, the Son of the Iron Bird!" the mare exclaimed with fire in her eyes.

After a little thought, the pilot expressed his decision:

"I think I will refuse such a generous offer, Twilight Eclipse. The knowledge of the Iron Birds must be kept secret. No one will receive them under any pretext."

This answer angered the lilac pony.

"Are you sure about this?"What is it?" she asked angrily, straining her muscles.

Having assessed the situation, the pilot nodded and added in an impassive, firm voice:

"Yes. This is my final verdict. And if you don't like something, I'll shoot you right here. My hand will not waver."

Twilight just laughed loudly and stupidly at the pilot's threats. There was something out of this world in her and the pilot wanted to find out.

"And what?" she snarled, "Will you kill me? And then what?"

"I will live," Kramarenko replied without a shadow of a smile, "Better tell me who you really are? I've met this mare before and I can clearly see your differences. Stop prevaricating"

"You can call me Eclipse-s or Darkness, as a few foolishly called me. But I'm not Darkness, oh no. I am something more perfect than stupid anger and bloodlust. During my life in the carrier, I share with-power and knowledge. I give them everything they crave."

"And you take the body." rudely interrupted the pilot praising himself Eclipse.

"There is such a thing," someone in the mare's body did not deny. "I like to feel the blood filling me, the storm of emotions and the desire of the bearer..."

"Having fun, then?" a man asked a rhetorical question.

Nodding affirmatively, she slowly, like a cat, approached the pilot, exposing her new body to be torn to pieces. She wasn't afraid of death and pain, it amused her. It was possible to find and subdue almost any pony.

Seeing the pilot's inaction, she continued:

"If the c-death of this shell doesn't mean much to you, then why don't you c-do it? Kill her and you'll get your freedom. It's not my desire to get a job, which means I have no complaints, Eclipse."

She lay down under the man's feet and turned over, exposing her unprotected stomach to be torn to pieces. If Kramarenko wanted to, he could do it with his bare hands.

"No."

She looked in fake surprise at the man who did not want to commit another murder.

"Your decision, Great Mass and Son of the Iron Bird, will still be rewarded. Love, power and wealth are waiting for you." Twilight Eclipse began to be crucified again.

"No," he said again.

"Then what?!" pony began to lose her temper with this behavior of the pilot.

"I want to make a deal with you. You leave this mare alone and become a part of me. I'm sure you've never been in the mind of the Son of the Iron Bird before."

Kramarenko's proposal genuinely interested Eclipse.

"Well, I'm true to my word and I only come to the one who wants it." the mare smiled slyly and stretched out her hoof.

Thrusting the sword into the ground and gripping the pony's limb tightly with white fingers, the pilot closed his eyes in humility. Something cold and hot at the same time went through the body and dug into the brain, pressing down with its invisible force. Gritting his teeth from the surging pain, the man on weak legs sat down on the ground covered with someone's scarlet blood. And after a couple of seconds, everything went quiet. Opening his eyes, Kramarenko saw a lavender pony unconscious. Her fur and mane were old colors.

Shield. The dome, which hid the two from the whole world, began to be covered with cracks. Bursting noiselessly, it brought back sunlight and sounds. Turning his head slowly, he noticed Tia and Wuna. Both immediately rushed into a strong embrace. They were saying something without stopping, large drops of tears were flowing down onto the chest of the pilot, who was suddenly tired of everything. Stroking their heads, he smiled at the burden of responsibility for an innocent death. Killing her was the easy way, but as they say: they don't look for easy ways. What will happen later will not happen now.

Having reassured the mares of their value and safety, Kramarenko examined the battlefield in more detail. The dead lay here and there, the wounded were picked up or bandaged right here. In the distance lay a dead dragon, killed by Tia and Vuna. The hilt of Tia's gilded halberd protruded from his skull. The attackers could be recognized only in the wounded and dead, the rest apparently fled with all their legs and paws. Vuna, sitting next to her, had a bandaged wound on her front leg, and her right wing was twisted at an unnatural angle. But she did not consider these injuries to be anything really important than the fate and health of her pilot. Tia, relatively, looked whole, only a couple of scars and scratches stood out on the white fur.

After sitting down and resting for a while, Kramarenko took off his chain mail and undershirt, revealing himself to the cool breeze that was walking on the steppe. The sun was sinking to the horizon. Everyone who could still move approached the man. Battered, they bowed before the two ponies and the pilot. Their loyalty to the MiGs, who were here a long time ago, not only did not fade, but also strengthened. Neither fear nor blind fanaticism led them after the Son of the Iron Bird, but love and respect. In response, the pilot also bowed his head in gratitude to them.

In the distance, under the soft rays of the Sun, a thick fog began to gather. The unusual phenomenon alarmed everyone except Kramarenko. Something told him about the end of his adventures in this world. Staggering, he stood up and straightened up. Holstering his pistol, he wanted to move towards the fog, towards his home, but stopped and looked at the pony. Vuna and Tia guessed about the last way and now looked at him with sadness. Wiping away her tears, the blue mare limped up to the pilot and kissed him goodbye. But Tia did not follow her sister's example and lay down on the ground, pointing at her back. Without refusing to give up one more help, the pilot sat on top of her. She, getting used to his weight, moved forward with a measured step.

After going the way she was supposed to, the white pony stopped next to a difficult thick fog. Dismounting from the mare, the pilot hugged her. During these couple of days, she and Vuna have become very close and dear to the hard human heart. After saying goodbye to her, he entered the fog.

The pilot walked along it for a short time and soon came out on the cold land of Korea. Somewhere in the hollow was a dilapidated village. Meeting a Korean man on the way in a hay cart, he shouted:

"Kim Il Sung Ho!"

"Kim Il Sung Ho."the peasant replied.

A couple of hours later, a search party arrived in the village and took Kramarenko to the base. The business trip to Korea ended and Captain Sergei Makarovich Kramarenko left for home, to the Soviet Union.

***

The Order of the Iron Bird remained under the guidance of the wise sisters of the Alicorns. After Sunrise left, they collected the remains of the Iron Bird and buried it on the very field where the battle took place. The dead followers of the Order also lay there, next to the Celestial Empire.

Twilight walked aloof for a long time, her memories were clear, she remembered everything to the last detail. The Mission that saved her left before she woke up. The mystery of the ancient holiday has remained unsolved. Only her former mentor knew about something else, but she always skillfully translated the conversation with a sly smile.

The moon, dreaming of her own son, looked at the sky for a long time. The wound in his soul was healing, and the thought that he was back where he belonged warmed his heart. Even time will not have power over her dear memories of him.

***

After returning home, Kramarenko thought about his adventures for a long time. He did not even think about the fictitiousness of the fairy-tale world. Eclipse, who made a deal with him, lost — there was no magic in the world of people from the word at all and she just went into hibernation until better times. But not only the memories of the pony remained, but also the medallion with the Moon symbol presented by Vuna evoked warm memories, bypassing the heavy ones.

"The two worlds are so different, but love and friendship are the same." the pilot said with a grin and smiled sincerely.

Author's Note

That's it - the end

In the bathhouse

The pilot was sitting on the floor in the spacious bedroom allocated to him without a chain mail shirt. There was a wicker basket with fruits and vegetables on a round glass table. They did not have reliable information about what a person eats. Nearby, on a clean bed, which the pilot did not want to dirty, there were towels. They only half satisfied the request to wash and wash: they gave the same towels while they were preparing the bath. It did not work out to explain to them that a simple basin with warm water would do for him. Their loving care almost made me blush. Almost.

The mares themselves were clearly not ordinary ponies. Maybe priestesses from an aristocratic family, or maybe the princesses themselves. But the latter was so naive that laughter would not be inappropriate. The pilot had very little understanding of their traditions and the structure of the world. There was still a glimmer of hope that the stay here would not last too long. Last time, it took defeating the dragons and saving the ponies. So now you need to do something that pony is not able to do. Purpose? Previously, Kramarenko would have answered this unworthy to believe in this nonsense, but now…

There was a soft but insistent knock on the door. Kramarenko got up to open the door to a pony with a good upbringing and the concept of personal space. A blue mare stood on the threshold with a warm smile. Her mane and tail were tied in a ponytail and bun, respectively.

It must be calling to wash, the pilot thought and smiled approvingly at the unusual, but cute, wing calls.

***

The standing Son smiled warmly at the Moon. His emotions were sincere and bright, like a young colt next to his mother. He turned around and deftly grabbed the silk towels with his extraordinary paws, and after a couple of seconds he was ready to follow her. For some reason, at the sight of her Son, so unlike a pony, Luna wanted to hug him as if he were her own. She had never dreamed of becoming a mother before, and there was no opportunity. But now these feelings flared up in the mare like a hot flame, warming her heart.

Leading him down a long corridor decorated with paintings of victories and celebrations of Equestria before the dark times. Even without seeing his face, admiration and some surprise came from the tired Son at the sight of the art of the Canterlot artists. Turning into one of the nooks, they went down to the bathhouse, which was not inferior in size to the palace. Then the marble steps went under the warm water.

In the middle, like an island, there was a ledge on which Celestia was waiting. Next to her were all kinds of washing products. From the humidity, her fur became wet and glistened in the dim light of the magic lamps. The heavy mane no longer developed in the invisible wind and, tangled, hung haphazardly, giving her the appearance of an ordinary working pony. Now the moon will become the same.

My Son stopped behind me, rubbing his neck in embarrassment.

Was he confused by so much water? the mare was surprised.

But after standing for a while, he began to take off his dirty clothes and put them neatly on the edge of the steps. Towels were also left there. Now he looked even more vulnerable without the many fabrics hiding his naked, almost hairless body. But the Son still left something: loincloth short trousers made of light cotton covered his intimate area. For the inhabitants of Equus, who did not even possess magic in the usual sense, they could create a simple illusion. From such thoughts, Luna blushed and mentally pitied him, who did not have such a simple gift.

Without a single splash, he entered the warm water up to his chest and dived. Not knowing about his ability to swim, the ponies did not even have time to be scared, as he was already on the surface. Noisily inhaling the air filled with the smells of scented candles.
Celestia stamped her front foot, inviting him to climb up to her. Pulling himself up on his front paws, the Son sat down on the edge of the "island". The skin, which had previously had the color of ivory, turned red.

It was a novelty for the former princess, but taking in her hooves, she touched his back with soft pads, feeling the strings of muscles stretched under the thin skin. For some reason, the bipedal creature shuddered and abruptly turned its head at this usual, pony-like gesture.

Celestia lowered her hoof, deciding about the wrongness of her actions towards her Son. He blinked in surprise and stopped her by placing his five-fingered paw on top of her hoof. Thus, he apologized for this, in his opinion, offense. His manners and behavior speak of him as a gentleman. At first, Tia saw him as a militant messenger from heaven. His physique was already suitable for battles, although he could not survive the slash. His mind was not inferior to a mature stallion, and maybe even superior.

Taking a shampoo in telekinesis, the mare gently began to rub the thick liquid into the short mane. Celestia and Luna didn't say a single word in front of their Son, communicating with him with simple body gestures or using visual magic. The sisters' curiosity was at a high level comparable to Twilight. But unlike the latter, they did not even think of getting into his head for secret knowledge. The young princess could not restrain herself and commit something beyond the bounds of decency.

Knowing our Tway, I'm willing to bet that she could have already met our Son and taught right in front of his eyes, Celestia telepathically shared her guesses with her sister.

For some reason it seems so to me too… Tia, can I ask you something? Without betraying her nervousness, Luna floated up to the side of their guest and looked questioningly at Celestia.

Of course, the white sister replied without distracting herself from her work with hooves.

I, I want to adopt him! For real! the mare blurted out.

From surprise, the former Equestria princess froze in amazement, but after a while she took up her task again, pouring crystal clear water from a jug on her soapy head. After thinking a little, carefully comprehending her next words, she gave an answer:

Luna, Lulu. You do realize that we can't notice his parents, right? We are not gods or even celestial beings, we are just slightly powerful inhabitants of Equus.

I understand, the younger one lowered her ears sadly.

He's not a pony, he's completely different. What happens if we leave him? the elder asked her reasonable question, starting to knead and rub the skin of her Son sitting in front of her, generously watering him with liquid soap before that.

No, Luna answered honestly.

I don't know either, but obviously nothing good. He is weak, he has enemies here in the form of the Order of the Red Dragon, even if he forgave them for the attack, dangers can lie in wait for him everywhere. I would also like to call him my little, or not so little, foal. a half-smile lit up Celestia's muzzle with strands of colored mane stuck to it.

Luna just nodded in disappointment and lay down on the ledge. She mentally struggled with her sister's decision, but her arguments were correct, and until Luna finds arguments, Tia will not back down from her own.

***

Under the soft hooves and gentle movements, Kramarenko fell into a light doze. Fatigue, tension and lack of normal sleep affected him. He woke up only when the white pony was poking her nose, quietly waking him up already lying down. The pleasant massage from the mare was wonderful. It's a shame to admit, but the pilot would not mind repeating this experience.

While the pilot was drying himself, it began to dawn on him that he had been washed, indeed, everywhere while he was sleeping.

What a shame. Yes, and these mares, apparently, are not shy, since they climbed into my underpants.

Lightweight silk towels absorb moisture perfectly, so the pilot finished quickly. But the mares were not so easy with their fur. No matter how they were wiped off, a little bit, but they still remained wet.

Having escorted Kramarenko to his chambers, the mares went about their business, finally giving rest. Left alone, he took off his towels and buried himself in a soft feather bed.

The first time is an accident, the second is a coincidence, and the third is a pattern, the pilot grinned, hiding the gun under his pillow.

There is something wrong with this world — everyone is interfering, but they want to kill a person, as if he is the main evil on this earth. Sleep found him quickly. And I dreamed of my own home, and my mother and father under an old lime tree.

Author's Note

I wanted to ask you, readers, here: is the text read normally from machine translation and is everything OK?