Dolor ex cinere.
Discord still felt terrible, even the tuft of his tail hurt, but it was better than yesterday when he could hardly even move. At least it seemed to be getting better.
Despite the lingering tiredness in his muscles he had decided to see Fluttershy as they’d planned the month before and he was looking forward to seeing his friend… he knew that he could rely on her kindness and company to make him feel even a little better… though he felt a pang of regret at the time that he’d faked illness to see if she really did care, the memory of the human story of The Boy Who Cried Wolf echoing in his mind and carrying with it a faint and nameless dread.
As Discord crested a hillock he caught faint smell of smoke and caught a glimpse of black smoke rising in the distance, right in the direction of Fluttershy’s house. The dread that had been stalking him morphed into terror as he got closer and closer to the pegasus’s cottage.
When he crested the next knoll, his terror became reality as he laid eyes on the burned out hovel, still smoking and smoldering… despite the weariness that had made a home in his muscles, he pushed himself to a gallop. He had to see if Fluttershy was ok.
He didn’t even notice when he trampled the charred skull of a once white rabbit.
* * *
Peter White, collapsed tiredly into his chair and unconsciously reached up to his ear to squeeze the earlobe between his thumb and the first knuckle of his forefinger… only to be stopped by his hoof brushing the side of his head. It was odd that the old nervous habit had never gone away in the eighteen years since he’d been transformed into a pony.
Thanks to the training he’d had before that he was one of the most qualified fire-ponies in the world; though investigating the causes of fire was admittedly less glamorous than his brother’s job as police detective in Santa Barbra.
He eyed the stack of papers —notes really— which were taken of the almost thirty separate house fires in Ponyville. Ponyville proper, he reminded himself, not really wanting to think about the possibility of the outlying country homes.
These weren’t even preliminary reports, though there were eyewitness stories that these fires were Spontaneous Pony Combustion and that people, ponies, had just burst into flames — the Element of Magic, apparently, was one of them.
He shook his head and wearily grabbed three that corresponded to houses in the same neighborhood, he might as well get to work on the preliminary reports.
* * *
Nurse Redheart collapsed onto the couch in the lounge. Despite being dead-tired and sick, the hospital had needed her — the burn ward was stuffed past capacity, overflowing into the maternity and psychological wards. The hospital was so full that there were no visitors allowed now, and so many burns that Nurse Redheart would have been glad to see a compound fracture or amputation… anything but another burn.
The tsunami of burn victims had started and then just kept coming and coming, the young the old, the fit, the slovenly, everyone, it seemed, had been burned.
There was a start and a jerk from the couch opposite as its occupant woke from a restless sleep — “Ah, miss Redheart… it’s only you.” Dr. Horse exclaimed, looking at once too awake and too tiered.
“Doctor, you need to get some sleep.” the nurse replied, closing her eyes and sinking deeper into the lumpy couch.
“I, I can’t… thank you anyway, nurse.” Dr. Horse said, rolling off the couch and forcing himself back to his patients… normally he’d let the nursing staff take care of things, but they were swamped, the entire hospital was swamped, and everyone who could needed to help out.
His first stop was the children, several were in bad shape and probably wouldn’t make it… the worst was Pound Cake who had apparently been sleeping next to his sister when she’d combusted… even if he lived, the poor pegasus might never fly again, not with his right wing so badly burnt.
For a moment Dr. House wished that he had human surgeons on his team: the extinct race’s hands had been marvelously adept and their medical knowledge had actually propelled Equestria’s own medicine multiple decades ahead in just a few short years — but he might as well wish for the regeneration-tanks and bio-builder droids of humanity’s science fiction for all the good it’d do him.
No, it was best to keep himself firmly rooted here, concentrating on these problems… even if the strain and exhaustion made thinking a chore — he couldn’t just let his patients down, not when they needed him.
Dr. Horse grabbed the chart on the door and began looking it over and comparing it to what he saw of the small colt — maybe some insight would give him a better chance to survive.
* * *
Discord found himself standing in what had once been Fluttershy’s living-room, charred, burnt things littered the floor, the leg of the sofa, an arm from a chair, the metal frame of a small table that evoked images of a blackened skeleton… the lamp that he’d broken and then re-modeled into one depicting himself seemed oddly fine, despite that the fire had consumed the lampshade and cord… ‘Stupid lamp.’
‘I’d rather have Fluttershy.’ Discord thought to himself as the desolation washed over him. ‘Oh, Fluttershy…’
“Discord!” A voice broke into his grief, behind and over his shoulder… Rainbow Dash. “I always knew you were no good! What did you do to Fluttershy?”
“What. Did. I. Do!?” Discord’s vision went red as he was enveloped in a rage that he’d never before experienced, so intense that his vision seemed to take on a two-dimensional aspect in addition to the red color… the pegasus hovering behind him was holding all of his attention right now.
“Answer me Discord!” Rainbow Dash demanded, thrusting a hoof at the Draconequus and utterly oblivious to the rage she was inducing with her accusation.
Discord had never killed anyone, life was a sacred thing that itself was full of pleasurable chaos — but at this particular moment he actually considered imposing order on Rainbow Dash, the decay of death was one of the most orderly things in the universe; something that Celestia and Luna had never understood but was always clear to him — he raised his talon to snap it and…
With a supreme force of will, prompted by memories of Fluttershy and her friendship with his tormenter, didn’t kill the pegasus that was tormenting him. Instead, the snap sent Rainbow Dash flying, falling, into a rather large snow-drift that had appeared.
“Cool off!” the Draconequus snarled at the now-prone form of Rainbow Dash before sharply turning around and storming away… he was going to take his own advice before he did something he’d end up regretting.
In the snow-drift, Rainbow Dash finally pulled herself into an upright position. She tried flying, but for some reason it just wasn’t working — she ran a forehoof through her main but nearly jumped at the strange sensation. Her forehooves looked different, they came to a point like some sort of fin rather than a hoof.
‘What happened?’ she asked herself, stumbling forward and catching herself on the not-forehooves… Rainbow Dash felt a sinking feeling asa she realized that it was probably some sort of transformation-magic.
‘What did he do to me?’ she thought to herself, wondering what sort of terrible monster it was that Discord had turned her into.
* * *
Pinky Pie felt terrible, and it had nothing to do with the illness that had swept over the inhabitants of Sugarcube Corner, it was a sad, depressing feeling that ate at the pit of her stomach… she should have tried harder to help with the twins instead of collapsing in her bed last night… if she’d helped Mr. and Mrs. Cake then maybe Pumpkin wouldn’t have died, maybe Pound wouldn’t be in the hospital.
The trash can of burnt items was rapidly filling up and it looked like Mrs. Cake was going to need some help cleaning up the soot-trail on the wall and the black spot on the ceiling over the crib.
While the Cakes didn’t feel lucky, they had been fortunate that Pound’s wails had woken his father, who had noticed the smoke and ran into the bedroom with a fire-extinguisher. The quick action was probably all that saved the young colt’s life, even though the colt’s ultimate condition was still uncertain.
‘Yeah,’ Pinkie sniffled, ‘I should have helped them out more.’
“Pinkie,” Mrs. Cake sounded like she had just finished crying, and her eyes looked like she could have filled her wash-bucket with tears, “could you help me?”
Pinkie Pie felt her breathing catch and her eyes begin to well up with tears, she forced a smile anyway as she replied, “Sure Mrs. Cake, what do you need me to do?”
“I’ll need some help moving the crib.” the elder mare replied, sounding monotone… and not the emotion-hiding monotone of Pinkie’s elder sister, but the soul-eating deadness sort of monotone.
“Yeah.” Pinkie said as she swiped her wilted mane out of her eyes.
* * *
Dr. Horse paused before he entered the next room, the mare inside wasn’t his special somepony, but he’d be lying if he said that he wasn’t interested in here. The confectioner inside was truly delightful, but he didn’t want to be the one to break the news that her best friend and neighbor, Lyra Heartstrings, had died and that it had been the fire started by her combustion that had injured her.
‘Bon Bon, you’re too kind to have this sort of thing happen to you…’ he thought as he steeled himself to go inside and assess her condition — as much as it disturbed him, he’d have to discharge her if he could, the hospital simply needed the room.
“Bon Bon, are you awake?” the Doctor asked, looking at the chart more as a prop than actually reading the information.
“Doctor?” Bon Bon queried, recognizing the voice of the handsome doctor she’d been eyeing lately, almost deliriously, “what happened? I don’t remember anything.”
“Ah, you were caught in a fire… the volunteer fire-ponies rushed you here,” the Doctor explained, or tried to — there had simply been so much going on that it was merely the most likely thing.
“Ah… I don’t feel… how bad is it?” the mare asked, concern coming off her voice.
“We’ve done all we can, but you’ve suffered from smoke inhalation, some minor burns, and a concussion. You should just go—” the doctor cut himself off before saying ‘home’, it was likely that the mare was homeless now… so many houses had either burned down or been rendered unlivable from fire-damage.
“Doctor?”
“Ah, sorry… I was just thinking about discharging you.” The Doctor scratched the back of his head, feeling like he should do something for the mare. “You know, I’m going to be stuck here at the hospital for the next few days and my plants need watering, and the food in the fridge needs to be used before it goes bad… I know we’re hardly more than acquaintances, but I’d really appreciate it if you could take care of those for me.”
The doctor’s sudden change in behavior struck Bon Bon as quite odd, though she was quite glad about the offer to stay at the doctor’s place… maybe she could use something she saw there to strike up a conversation with him later. ‘After all, all good romances start with a conversation.’ she thought.
“Of course I’ll help you, doctor.” She smiled at him.