Liquor Shots, Phoenix Feathers, and News Reports
Chapter 1:
Liquor Shots, Phoenix Feathers, and News Reports
The sound of laughter and talking filled the pub, creating a relaxed but slightly exciting atmosphere that made one want to talk about whatever came to mind. Talking was exactly what two young stallions were partaking in now that they were slightly buzzed from their alcohol. It was their first time in Canterlot, so, naturally, they both had a lot of material to review with each other, despite having visited all the locations together.
"All I'm saying is that I could have gotten him to move. Those two mares didn't have the guts to do anything beyond lightly tap him," complained the green pegasus, gesturing with his mug of cider to prove the point.
"I never disagreed with you. I just know that anything you'd do would cause chaos and most likely jail."
The black-furred earth pony set his drink down and looked to his friend with a smirk.
"And that wasn’t on my list of things to do here."
"I hear it used to be quite a nice place," commented a gray mare next to the duo without looking up from her glass.
The green pony peered over, skeptically lifting an eyebrow at the intrusion on his conversation. "How would you know that? What did you do to get locked up?"
"I'm not talking about the jail part of your friend’s statement, but the chaos one."
The two friends looked at each other, then returned their gazes to the mare, who was now throwing back a shot of clear liquid. "Sorry?"
She finally pulled for her attention from the now empty glass and focused on the stallions next to her. She stared at them for a while before quietly explaining herself.
"I suppose you've never heard about.."
She looked around to see if anyone was listening in. Satisfied they were safe from prying ears, she leaned over and her voice fell to barely above a whisper.
"LPW..."
The blank look on the stallions faces made it obvious they had no clue what she was talking about.
"What's that? Some top secret government thing?"
She laughed loudly at the comment, then resumed her drunken seriousness.
"They wish it was. No, it was nothing more then friends having a good time."
She collected what was left of her bits before jumping off the stool and turning towards the door. After a couple of steps, she paused to look back at the confused stallions.
"Just remember this. Everypony need a bit of chaos in their lives. There's nothing wrong with it. And because of this, no matter what anypony thinks, it can't be destroyed. It will always come back in some way or another."
The two ponies watched her swagger out the door, feeling more perplexed than anything. The bartender smiled as he followed their gaze, but stopped when he got a better look at their faces. It was obvious they weren't looking at her flank, something that surprised him. But it wasn't his place to say anything. He just refilled their drinks before leaving to tend to his other customers, making a mental note that these two were going to need a bit more alcohol before the night was over.
**********
While all the ponies in the bar were having an enjoyable time (except for two very confused ones), the mood was extremely different in a bunker on the other side of Canterlot. Not a word was spoken by any of the ponies in the room, as all of them were focused either on the computer screen in front of them or the large golden-armored stallion patrolling the aisles. The only sounds were the occasional hoofsteps, computer fans, and the keyboards being manipulated with magic.
A young mare with a clipboard quietly trotted to the royal guardspony, trying to keep from disturbing the hush. She passed the clipboard over without a word, then stood at attention, awaiting her next order. The guard quickly skimmed through the pages, his scowl deepening as he read.
"Has it indicated hostile intentions in any way?"
The mare simply shook her head, allowing the guard to relax ever so slightly. He turned to the nearest pony and gave a few commands. The image he was then shown on the screen didn’t seem to be a problem, but it still worried him.
"Keep a close eye on it. Make sure it doesn't do anything crazy this time. And keep Captain A. on alert, we might need him."
The pony nodded once before beginning to type furiously.
"We can't let the monster in."
**********
Tap. Tap. Tap.
It wasn't hard, and it wasn't really doing much, but he knew it would be enough to scare the cutie marks off some of the ponies inside.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
He wondered what the Royal Guard would do to make him stop, if they decided to see his tapping a threat again.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
He was actually just passing by and figured a bit of harmless fun at his old acquaintances' expense would get him in a good mood.
Tap. Tap. POW.
Ouch. He actually felt that. Obviously they'd had enough. Maybe he was somehow breaking through this time!
Tap. Tap.
Nah.
He'd already tried several times in the past, but this magic was beyond powerful, and he didn't like the feel of the shocks it gave of. With a sigh, he turned his back to the barrier and began winging his way into the mountains. A pony on the road below looked up to see what was casting the large shadow overhead, only to meet his wild eyes. She promptly screamed and galloped away as fast as her hooves could carry her. He was used to it now. Ever since the collapse of his world and his banishment from the city, the draconequus hardly ever saw a pony that didn't immediately think their death came with his appearance. Accepting culture indeed. The bigotry was overwhelming sometime. He wasn't violent by nature, and usually wouldn't physically harm anypony (mental harm was fine, though) unless he knew they'd recover fine and find it funny. He didn't have a name like "Chaos", "Madness", or "Discord". Seriously, what was there to be scared of about a name like "Fawkes"? He wasn't even as scary-looking as any other draconequus like that Discord fellow. Everything from his phoenix wing to his kangaroo foot and back up to his lion paw just screamed "friendly" in his opinion. And his fox-like head often did scream the word out loud. If he knew what happened to his old hat, he might be able to make a better impression, but it seemed to have walked off on its own accord last week (it probably did physically walk away).
It was a shame, really. Probably the biggest problem he had with anywhere that seemed decent lately. A severe lack or natural chaos was always an issue, but he was never truly accepted anywhere. That was something about his old world he loved. Nopony gave a parasprite's flank how one looked. Now...
His normally jubilant mood dropped a few levels for a moment. Now, now, there was no having that. He laughed and dived through a cloud, trying to be as spontaneous as possible.
Laugh all you like, you know you deeply miss it.
Fawkes froze in midair, his wings flattening against the sides of his body in surprise. As he plummeted towards the ground, his mind began to furiously figure out what it had just heard. It definitely wasn't one of the many voices normally residing in his head (he knew every one of them on a first name basis), and to tone was too sane to be anything he’d come up with. He was about to delve into other possibilities, but the ground rudely interrupted him.
You must find it again.
He shook his head as he sat up in the small crater he now rested in. Throwing his mismatched arms in the air, he yelled to the empty air.
"Alright, I give up! Who want's me dead?"
Your death won't be necessary. I just think there’s something you should know.
"What would that be? Please tell me it's the recipe to rainboom cupcakes, I just can't figure them out."
Continue east to the first town you see, somepony's expecting you. You’ll know who I mean as soon as you see them.
"Somepony else? Do they have the recipe?"
You need them if you have any hope of getting your little world back again.
"While this sounds wonderful and all, I never did catch your name."
...
"Hello?"
...
"Hung up on me. How rude."
**********
"Let me put it lightly. What you handed in today was complete manure. Not only that, but I want to know where you get the gal to blatantly try to make me look like a total mule!"
The large pony turned away from the wall to face the pegasus sitting in the wooden chair, his eyes livid.
"Tell me Conor, what did I do to you to make you write such slander? This isn't even one of those silly little mares' celebrity magazines, but you seem to love digging up the dirt that isn't even true! How did you even think it would get published?"
The light blue pegasus slowly sunk into the hard chair, his school-day instincts kicking in, trying to make himself as small as possible. He wouldn't get angry. He couldn't get angry.
"That's not even half the problem. Where's your real assignment? It was going to be published today!"
Conor snapped back to reality and looked at his boss in surprise, then realization kicked in. He'd come in early that morning and left his story on the art gallery opening on the desk right in front of him now. There were a lot of ponies that came through this office in the time between then and when his boss arrived. Any one of them could have switched it out. But who would be so cruel to do it?
"I've had enough. You don't seem to take this job seriously, you act like you've seen things nopony could imagine, and now you show proof that you truly hate me."
All three of those statement were actually true. In his opinion, a job should be fun, he really did despise the stallion, and what he'd seen...
It wouldn't have been a problem a week ago, before his old supervisor retired. He would have been proud to have jokingly written something so hilariously cruel. She would have found such an essay a riot, and put it up where everypony else could get a chuckle. But his guy seemed to have a serious power complex and a grudge against Conor from the beginning, so this meeting was inevitable. Conor's mind ran through several scenarios of what would be said next, ready for anything. The next two words were still enough to turn his blood cold for a moment.
"You're fired."
Conor trudged out of the Canterlot Times building, his face hidden inside the hood of his gray sweater. He hadn’t been so downhearted since his goodbye party all those years ago. He'd considered going back several times, but now that it was gone... real life was his only option. He bumped into a homeless pony, leading his thoughts back to the present day. He watched the homeless pony wonder off, reminding him that he could be worse off. With a sigh, he hurried his pace home.
By the time he closed the door to his apartment, all the event from the day had been forced from his mind. Tonight he'd probably just order dinner to be delivered and read a good book. A good relaxing night. He threw his mail on the table and started to go through it. His usual bills were there, along with an advertisement for a new feed store downtown. He threw them to the side, revealing something that didn't come through his mailbox every day. It was a letter with his name written on the front of the envelope. Just his name. No address or anything. Just his name, written in hoof-writing that could be described as perfect. Probably a unicorn.
Conor Colton
He slowly ripped the envelope open and removed the paper inside. It was written in the same style as his name on the front, and still provided no clue as to who sent it. He slowly began to read the message.
Sorry about today, but it was for the best. I couldn't have you hindered by a career when you do what's needed.
You must find those that are gone if you wish to recover your world.
You'll figure it out.
Well that was short, meaningless, and only reminded him of today's job loss. He began to rip it in half in anger, but paused when he looked at the words again.
If you wish to recover your world.
It couldn't mean...
He slowly put down the page and stood up.
There was somepony he needed to talk to.
