Chapter 5
A Canary Named Lazarus
Bluebeard – slowly – awoke to the sound of cannon fire. BOOM. It thundered again, echoing inside his head. He looked around his newly-acquired cabin slowly, so as not to upset his already-raging headache. BOOM. Why was somepony firing the ship's cannons at so early an hour? BOOM. The sound seemed to be getting louder. BOOM. Wincing, he slowly stumbled his way to the door. BOOM. He opened the door to his cabin, and to his groggy surprise, found Slick there, her hoof raised as if to knock on the door.
Now with somepony around to ask, he put forth his most burning question. “What scurvy dog be blasting the ships cannons at this unholy hour?”
Slick's eyebrow slowly rose before she responded. “First, this ship doesn't have cannons, and second, this isn't an 'unholy hour', it's nearly noon.”
“Eh?” Bluebeard took a long moment to ponder these new revelations. “Then what be that awful noise?”
“Well, I was just knocking on your door a moment ago...”
“It be ye!?” Bluebeard winced at the sound of his own voice painfully echoing against his head. “Well, I hereby order ye to never do that again...” He paused for a moment, considering what else he wanted. “And I order ye to bring me more o' that cider.”
“There might be a problem with that last part.”
“What?” Bluebeard didn't know how much more of this insubordination he could handle. “Why?”
“Maybe you'd just better come to the deck and see for yourself...”
With resigned, heavy (and painful!) steps, Bluebeard followed Slick to the deck.
Even in the shade of the airship's balloon, the noontime sunlight burned Bluebeard's eyes and baked his skull. His headache redoubled.
He looked to where he had stacked the remaining cider barrels, hoping to find some relief... but what he saw there only tripled his headache. His precious cider was gone!
“Why is all the cider gone?” he asked plaintively to his assembled crew.
“I have purified the ship of all unclean things!” Golden Word stepped forward proudly.
“But why is all the cider gone?” Bluebeard asked.
“He threw it overboard, you big oaf.” Slick still wasn't helping Bluebeard to feel any better.
“Quiet, wench,” he said reflexively. Slowly, though, her words sunk in... “HE be the one who did it!?”
“As I said, I–”
A wordless scream of rage from Bluebeard squashed Golden Word's affirmation. “Slick! Get the rope! Silver! Prepare the prisoner to be hanged!”
“Bluebeard.”
“WHAT!?” Bluebeard was in no mood for any more of Slick's interruptions.
“He's a pegasus. He'll just fly there at the end of the rope.”
Something about that struck Bluebeard as important. Probably the part where the accursed traitorous zealot wouldn't die. “Then fetch ye the rope anyway. We'll keelhaul the thrice damned scoundrel!”
“Bluebeard.”
“WHAAAT!?” His beard bristled and he could feel the veins popping out on his face. Bluebeard was far beyond losing patience now.
“This is an airship.” Slick's matter-of-fact tone was beginning to dangerously irritate Bluebeard. “He'll just dangle there.”
“Enough!” Bluebeard couldn't wait for a proper execution anymore. His aches had been replaced by rage, and it needed an outlet. Now. “I be doing it myself!”
He rushed toward the offending white-and-yellow pegasus, only to stop short, Silver Lance blocking his path with the ship's flagpole.
“Stop! 'Tis neither chivalrous nor noble to assault an unarmed non-combatant. I cannot allow it to be done! Think of your honor, Bluebeard!”
Bluebeard, though, was in no mood to be stopped. “Pirates are NOT honorable!” he yelled. He ripped the pole from Silver Lance's hooves and threw it like a spear straight for the soft spot between Golden Word's eyes.
Due to the unfortunate condition of Bluebeard's head, though, his aim left much to be desired. The flagpole lance flew straight and true, but not into the cider-tossing traitor's head. No, it careened right past him, directly into Bluebeard's beloved parrot!
“NOOO!” he screamed as the lance struck, but it was too late to change anything. The poor bird was pinned against the forward mast, letting out a startled squeak as it was crushed. Bluebeard rushed to the bird's rescue, but he could soon see that it was no use. The little parrot was much flatter than usual, and quite dead. Quietly, Bluebeard fell to his knees, overcome with grief and frustration at the cruelty of fate. First, the cider, then his head, and now this! Truly, this was destined to be the blackest day of his life! Holding the crushed bird reverently in his hooves, he slowly began to weep. It was just so unfair. By his own hooves he–
What? Bluebeard felt a hoof on his shoulder. He looked up to see Golden Word standing there: the very last pony he wanted to see right now. The white pegasus held out his hooves, as if asking for something... Bluebeard wasn't thinking very clearly. His head still hurt, and he had just lost so much... Reacting reflexively to the gesture, he handed his parrot's remains over to Golden Word. Only after he did so did he realize what he had done.
“What...? Wait! Give 'im back!” Bluebeard desperately wanted to regain some control over the situation.
Golden Word, wretched pegasus that he was, didn't obey – of course. Instead, he began intoning some weird prayer over the parrot's body.
Bluebeard was in no mood to humor Golden Word's strange religion. “Avast! What ye be doing to me parrot? Put 'im down right now, or so help me, I'll–”
Words left him, though, when something strange – and altogether uncanny – began to happen. Beginning softly, but rapidly growing in intensity, the bird's body began to glow. As Golden Word continued to pray, the pure white glow grew brighter and brighter until Bluebeard couldn't stand to look at it anymore. He shut his eyes against the glare.
Abruptly, Golden Word stopped his prayer, and the glow – still visible through Bluebeard's eyelids – vanished at the same moment. As Bluebeard opened his eyes, blinking away the dazzling afterimage, he felt a familiar, impossible weight on his back. In shock, he scooped up the little yellow parrot, holding it in front of him in his hooves. His jaw dropped and his eyes went wide. The bird was as good as new, not a scratch on him! Idly, it pecked at Bluebeard's hoof, looking for a treat.
Eyes still wide in shock, Bluebeard looked up to Golden Word, who was now looking his most angelic, hovering above the deck on his white wings.
“You...” Bluebeard still couldn't believe what he saw in front of him. “You brought me parrot–”
“Canary!” Stern Breeze reflexively corrected.
“Parrot.” Bluebeard insisted, “back to life!” He stared a little more. “But... how?”
“Forget not, my children,” Golden Word said, still hovering above the deck, “the blessings of The Light are manifest and many. Rejoice.”
Everypony on deck – especially Bluebeard – stared at the pegasus in awe... Could that pony be... real?
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