//------------------------------//
// Bread 
// Story: Les Mareables 
// by TheOrdinaryBrony 
//------------------------------//

  As the reader can obviously see, the city of Baltimare was in good hooves. With the generosity of the Mayor, and his conviction to aiding the poor the city flourished into a great hub of commerce and friendship. The poor lived poorly but contently. Whenever a poor soul needed comforting or a plate of food the Mayor would kindly oblige.

But while the ponies of Baltimare lived comfortable lives this was not the case in other towns or cities. Corrupt officials ruined other settlements. Favoring the rich over the poor. Their lavish lifestyle over the impoverished ponies living under them. All was not well anywhere in Equestria. 

Months after the Mayor’s initial construction on the hospitals a blight of the feather flu broke out across Equestria. Everywhere the flu went thousands of lives were claimed. Death was fierce and absolute. But as if by providence the pandemic passed over Baltimare. It would seem that the purity of the Mayor held a shield over the city. 

And in the midst of this pandemic the Mayor insisted on going to visit a nearby rural town that had been struck hard by the disease. 

As the Mayor was situating his coat onto himself his servant came galloping to his side, “Mr Mayor! You must not go!”

“And why not?” The mayor asked as he just opened the door.

“Those people are not sanitary! The disease is still eating at them!” The servant exclaimed with a stamping of his hooves.

The mayor merely laughed, as if what the servant had to say did not concern him, “My friend. Look around you.” The Mayor said pointing to a certain hallway where coughing could be heard, “What do you see?” The Mayor asked.

The Servant shrugged, “Sick people? As equally unsanitary as those wretch’s you plan to visit.” The servant said with a shudder.

The Mayor frowned, “It’s all about perspective friend. If I were some rich snob yes I would say the same thing. But I am no snob. I am a rich, naïve, stallion. What I see are lucky people.” The Mayor pauses, waiting for the Servant to process this information.

“How so?” The Servant retorts. Making sure his bow tie is in proper order. 

“The rural town’s people have nothing. No bed, no food, most have lost loved ones due to this sickness. But these ponies. The ones living under our roof are being given shelter, food, and care. All things that the rural ponies lack.” The Mayor finished with a smile.

“But the brigands! They would eat you alive!” The Servant exclaimed with newly found fervor.

“Well if they lack food I do have bread that I am more than honored to give.” The mayor said, bringing out a bag full of bread from his coat.
After putting the bread back in his coat. The Mayor bowed to his Servant and went without another word.  
***
It took about a day’s ride to get to the town. So when the Mayor arrived the town was shrouded in darkness. All Lightning could tell was that the settlement was on the side of a mountain, and that it was freezing. But Lightning didn’t mind. He ignored the icy cold of the mountain and illuminated his horn, which began to glow a light blue.


When Lightning had traversed through the muddy roads he came across the village. It was a pitiful encampment. The houses though modest in size were made of dirt and grass. Barely kept together by mud and knots of more grass with straw. 

As the Mayor trotted through the pathway, his horn casted a faint blue light across the houses, making himself a beacon of light throughout the town. Eventually Lightning came across the largest dirt house he could find. On top of the doorway was a knot of straw, twisted into a large S. 

When Lightning was preparing to knock he realized there was no door to be knocked on. Just an open cavity leading into the home, “Hello?” Lightning called. 

The Mayor waited a bit, “Yes! Yes! I’m here!” A voice exclaimed from inside the hut. After a second an earth pony was at the threshold of the home. Lightning observed the pony. Gaunt, tan skin stretched tightly across thin bones. Typical of a rural country vagrant. But this pony still had a hint of kindness in his green eyes. When the pony noticed the Mayor’s wandering eyes he cleared his throat, “Is there something you need?” He asked. Annoyed by Lightning’s late visit.

“Yes. I come from Baltimare. I’ve come in search of lodging. In your humble town.” The Mayor said kindly. 

The pony stepped out of his way, “Then welcome. This door…or lack thereof is never closed to those in need.” 

The Mayor nodded, and entered the pony’s home. The interior was much like the exterior. Dirt and more dirt. In the middle of the room sat a chair made of rough, splintered wood accompanied by two chairs. 

“Have a seat.” The pony said.

Lightning obeyed, taking his seat in the most uncomfortable chair. The other pony joined him, and placed an unlit candle in the middle of the table, “What is that for?” The Mayor questioned.

The pony shrugged, “Most valuable thing I have.” He responded.

“May I?” The Mayor asked, pointing at his horn then to the candle. The other pony nodded. With a quick flick of his horn the candle was lit, “Thank you. It was rather dark in here.” The Mayor said with a grin.

The pony nodded, and sighed, “I would offer you something. But I have nothing to offer.” The pony said. 

“But you have. Your home. Your hospitality. More than enough for me.” The Mayor smiled, remembering something, “And yet I have offered you nothing.” In a second Lightning was holding two pieces of sourdough bread, “Care for some?” He asked.

“Of course! You see my lack of stomach. Give it here!” The pony exclaimed. 

Lightning brought out the whole bag, using his levitation magic to give the pony two loaves. When his host had the loaves in front of him he immediately wolfed the first one down. Soon after he gobbled the second one, until only crumbs remained. 

“Sir you come from Celestia above! Who are you?” The pony asked with a burp.

The Mayor laughed, “I am Lightning Rod, Mayor of Baltimare. I’ve heard of your towns losses. And I’ve come to give alms. It is the least I can do.” Lightning explained.

The pony frowned. His green eyes drooping along with his spirit, “Thank you for coming. We’ve lost many.” He said motioning behind him, where three beds lay. Vacant, “My wife and daughter were killed by the flu. For some reason I was lucky.” The pony muttered. 

The Mayor was at a loss for words. The thought of losing two loved ones was daunting. Especially by unnatural causes, “No words I say can ever heal your wounds. But I can heal your hunger.” Neither said a word. Until they both retired to the beds. Though, the mattress was made of firm wood the Mayor was content. But only one question nagged at him, 

“What’s your name?” Lightning blurted.

As the pony got himself into the most comfortable position possible, “I assume you saw the S outside?” 

Lightning nodded, “Yes but I didn’t understand it.” The Mayor said.

The pony laughed and pointed to his flank, where the image of a cent was depicted, “Stinkin’ Rich. Ironic isn’t it?” 
***

When Stinkin’ Rich awoke the next morning he was greeted by two more loaves of bread on his table and a small sack. First he ate one loaf, deciding to save the last one for dinner. When he was finished he opened the sack. The contents of the bag consisted of, 25 more loaves of bread, a note and another sack. 
Stinkin’ grinned at the bread feeling his appetite inflate like a balloon. But the note caught his eye. What more could the stranger possibly have left him. He grabbed it quickly and unfolded it.


Hello friend. I realize how hungry you may be. But if you’d please distribute the loaves evenly amongst your people. I assure you there’s enough for all. I counted the houses before leaving, there should be plenty. Anyways. The little sack you may also have found is filled with seeds of wheat. I will try and visit at least once every two weeks. Also I left a box of matches. Keep that candle lit. 

After Stinkin’ looked at the paper it was wet. He had wept. Soon after he galloped out of his home. The bag of bread flying alongside him in the wind.