//------------------------------// // The Dawn of a New Day // Story: The Cost of a Sunrise // by No one is home //------------------------------// “Dottie!” Magpie called out as her sister waved. “Magpie, Daisy! And Mr. LeFaux.” The gem gnoll satyr curtsied. “We met last night. How’s our newest clown holding up?” “I’m coping, ma’am,” the insectile foal shuffled his hooves as he spoke. “Hey! I’m not THAT old,” Dottie grumped. “Save the ‘ma’am’ stuff for Margarine!” “Her majesty has treated me very kindly.” The colt colt flashed a shy smile. “Oooo, he learns the rules quick, too!” Dottie clapped. “Now you have to always remember that I am ‘the cute one’, it is a serious circus rule.” “Uh… okay…” Slapstick stammered uncertainty. “Dottie!” A crisp but lighthearted rebuke emerged. “What have I told you about subverting my faithful subjects?” “Not to? Uh... your majesty?” Dottie grinned impishly as she turned toward the white, rainbow maned alicorn that had somehow stuck up behind her. “I’m sorry, but I mean look at him! He’s so adorable with his clown paint and his little bee’s knees!” “Come away with me, little beezy and I will show you the dance of my people.” The gem gnoll satyr batted her lashes suggestively. “You do that and I prophesize Atlas will put you on the same list as Rollo.” And elderly cloven female with fur the color of dirty cream, and eyes the color of dead salmon walked into the group. “I am Madame Baphomet, young LeFaux. We made a brief acquaintance last night. We all mourn your loss.” “Yes, it’s sad the little ponys family’s gone,” a handsomely arrogant, pale skinned human, carrying a lovingly cared for, impossibly long rifle from the ancient great war. “Can we get on with it, tragedy or not we have a schedule to keep, and the longer we delay this the greater the chance the dead will draw scavengers.” “Show some respect for the dead, Franklin!” Margarine stomped up scowling. “If it was up to me and Atlas you’d already be out on your ass!” “But, it’s not up to you, is it you fat he-mare?!” Franklin sneered cruelly. “Like it or not, it’s MY managary that brings in the ticket trades that keeps all the strays you keep picking up fed! Without me all you’ve got is… “ “Shut up, you arrogant son of a whorse!” Ringmaster Baylie flapped his leather wings throwing ash into the air. “We are here to honor the passing of two great families, Franklin Nathaniel Stein. You couldn’t make Barnham’s troup because Ringmaster Barnham had higher standards than I did when I took you in, that colt’s family are what kept his standards so high. He is a LeFaux, from Barnum's Circus Of Wonder, I don’t care if he can’t cast his first catrip, yet, with hithe colt studying under our Miraculous Queen, maybe we won’t need you much longer. So show some respect and remember your place before you try to put anyone else in theirs. Being kept around because you’re useful is no way to live Franklin. Ask yourself why would we ever keep you around one day when we DON’T need you anymore. Think about it and then try to give some body in the troup a reason to do that.” “Just keep her majesty’s little prince away from my animals.” The human scowled. “I doubt they’ll much care about his big fancy name.” “That’s Franklin,” Magpie sighed in exasperation, Daisy quickly nodded and continued, “I don’t know why Master Baylie puts up with him, but he does. And that’s pretty much everyone except the roustabouts, that acrobat family, and Rollo. The acrobats are nice enough, but their just signed on till we get to Stone Cross, and they mostly keep to themselves. And Rollo… if he gets within hoofs-length of you just call my dad, Mr. Atlas. He’s a serious perv, but he kisses up to Queen Sunrise enough that we can’t just get rid of him.” -=-=-=-=- “Slapstick LeFaux,” Madame Baphomet spoke with the deepest tones of respect, “All of the families of the Ashen Circus share your grief. Today we lay to rest one the greatest friendships between any two families in our people’s history, the Barnhams and the LeFauxs. This loss diminishes us all, but even in this darkest hour, a ray of sunlight shine through. And I am so sorry, my little pony, for the weight of that light shines down upon you. And while we can share that grief we can not share that weight. You are the last of your name… and also the first. As the paths of your destiny unwinds what fate shall you inflict on the world? Will you help? Or will you hurt? You shall do both young LeFaux. The question shall always be, who will you help, and who will you hurt? It shall be by the answers to that question that you shall be judged. Your’s is the greatest grief, and the greatest weight, and the greatest fear… and the greatest hope. It is your destiny to build the future of your name, as it’s past is returned to the ash.” Deadlift solemnly handed a long oil soaked torch to the insectile colt, who grimmly grasped it in his clenched teeth. “As the circus rose from the ashes, so must we return the lives it has given to us. Ashes unto the ashes.” Ringmaster Baylie lit the pyre torch with a flick of a kerosene lighter held in a dextrous leathery wing. “As you release their spirits into the ash, so you free yours, young colt, to continue your journey across the ash.” “Even as their act has ended,” Magpie said sadly, and Daisy continued, “The show must still go on.” As he passed the line of circus folk they each in turn bowed their head or spoke words of encouragement. As he approached the pyre itself he faltered. “It’s alright, my subject.” Slapstick started as a soft feathery wing rest across his withers. “They must continue their journey without you, and you without them. But they have not left you alone. You are one of my subjects, and I promise you, you don’t ever have to face any of it alone.” The young clown sighed and lowered the torch. The flames climbed high into the morning sky, and a nearby farm swore that they had seen the sunrise on the horizon. A few days later in a settlement some miles away, there was a strange outbreak of graffiti and suicide. A huge “X” of circus tent poles baring a bright cheerful sign, “Barnum's Circus of Wonders”, and a smaller sign informing travelers that this was the site of massacre of the circus troupe by raiders was eventually found by trade caravan.. Guard patrols some time later found the remains of a raider encampment that had turned on and slaughtered itself. And so it began.