The heavy stone lid of the grave flew off with a blast of magic, landing in broken chunks far ahead on the grassy field. The unicorn wasted little time in using his magic to rip the coffin out of its subterranean confines, and once he had it on the ground in front of him he began to pull on the cover with his telekinesis. It took a bit of struggling, but eventually the wood cracked and splintered, and the top portion of the coffin came off. He threw that away too, somewhere behind himself.
His magic slithered into the coffin as the cloud of dust he'd raised from it settled around him. It wrapped around the charred bones contained therein like tentacles, sliding past the few stray shreds of flesh and cloth still left on the pony's corpse. He made sure he had the entirety of her in his grasp, then he pulled. The blackened skeleton floated out of its cage, enveloped by the glow of his spell, and remained in the air in front of him as he observed it. He turned its head slightly, staring past the holes of its eyes deep into its hollow skull.
"Hello, mother," he said. Bringing the whole skeleton lower, he put a hoof to the skull's horn and gently stroked it, his white coat stark against the darkened piece of bone. "It has been a while."
The skeleton did not answer. It lacked the anatomical means to produce sound just as much as it lacked the metaphysical will and liveliness to wish to answer or speak as a whole. The unicorn did not mind that fact, for although it could be argued that he was not fully sane, on the basis of him defiling his mother's grave if nothing else and on many more things if one knew more of him, he was not yet insane enough to believe a skeleton could speak. Or more precisely, he was still wise enough to know that particular skeleton would not speak, as he was perfectly otherwise aware that skeletons could speak, under the right circumstances.
He turned, carrying along the flame-scarred corpse of his mother with him. He held it a little higher than the ground, and still in the shape of a pony, if only the skeleton of one. "I was thinking we could go have some ice-cream," he began, "but the shop is closed today, it turns out. Maybe we'll just take a walk in the park."
After walking down the short stone ladder leading to and from his mother's elevated grave, he was careful with his step along the narrow strip of land that still had not collapsed to the boiling ocean below. He finally reached the graveyard's metal gates, left open still, and walked out of them still with his mother along as the mid-afternoon Sun shone down on them.
The city was largely empty, and partly melting, and the few sane ponies there who saw him had seen weirder things to question why a stallion walked along with a charred corpse. In the sky, birds melded with each other.