The Fire and The Flutter

by A. Tuesday

II

II

The last patron walked out of the restaurant doors, and Sir changed the sign from OPEN (Come on in!) to CLOSED (Come back soon!).

He sighed, and I finished cleaning up the workstation. My snow-white mane swooshed back and forth as I trotted over to Sir. “So, how’d we do?” I asked.

“Alright, I guess,” he replied, “But we won’t start raking in more dough until the tourism season kicks in. We’re doing fine for now.”

Sir was like an older brother to me. I had had a little brother from my time in Ponyville, but Sir sufficed as a friend. We often talked about many different things, including business.

“Okay,” I continued, “So, we’ll make it through the month?”

He nodded. My adoptive family, as I referred to them, owned the Gilded Hoof, and were out of town for a while. It was up to Sir and I to run the place, and with excellent waiting skills and my cooking, we were doing alright.

“Hopefully that’s all we’ll have to make it through,” he said, “The Gilds’ should be back by the end of the month. It’s amazing that the conventions last that long.”

It was a bit of shock to me, too. I mean, Tavern Conventions do only come once every 5 years – but they lasted 3 weeks. Ridiculous.

“Oh, that reminds me!” Sir exclaimed. I followed him with my eyes as he went at full gallop up the stairs to where we lived. His hooves clicked against the steel as he came down, with an envelope floating magically by his side. “Can you do me a favor, and run to the Pony Express? I need it mailed to where the Gilds’ are staying. Can you do that?”

I put my magic on the will as he relinquished his. “Yeah, no problem, I guess. Don’t lock me out like you did last time.”

He chortled. “I’ll think about it.”

I pushed the restaurant doors open, and entered New Horseleans. The sun began to set in the distance.

I trotted merrily down the narrow, cobblestone streets New Horseleans had to offer. Street merchants beckoned me to come and buy something, but I politely declined. Other ponies waved to me, and I waved back. Others still walked along the streets, going about their business.

The city had an untamed beauty to it, and this was in everyday life, although most ponies only seemed to see it during the Carnival. When it came time for the Carnival season, you would often see decorations hung all over the place: streamers in various colors, bells clanging, ponies dressed in completely dressed in outlandish costumes – all to celebrate the halfway mark of spring. We were a weird bunch – but a weird bunch that hundreds of ponies flocked to see every year.

I had only seen one Carnival since my time here – being here for just under two years. Sure, it was a day of magic and fun I shall never forget – most people forgot the beauty that lied in this place everyday.

Of course, it was a bit gloomy today. A whale decided to swim into the bay yesterday, except it was covered in ice. Like it had contracted a rash or something, except instead of splotchy, red itchiness, it was ice floe. And it was growing.

It wasn’t the first animal to come in with these weird symptoms either. Some birds, fish, and I think even an alligator all appeared around the town with ice floe biologically soldered to their bodies. The worst part was that there wasn’t anything anybody could do about it. It was impossible to melt off the ice without severely burning the animals, so as a result, the animals often just turned into a block of ice.

Because of this, the usual, cheery side of New Horseleans was often replaced with these activists, calling for a better veterinarian system, or something along those lines. They took over the street corners, and spent their days whining about how nopony cared about the animals, and how everything was corrupt, and how we must donate, or else we, personally, are the reason every animal dies, yadda yadda yadda. It’s really annoying.

I approached the intersection where the Pony Express office was, and I saw another group of activist on the corner, shouting. But, there shouts weren’t the usual jeers they poked at the crowd today.

“We have a savior!” they yelled, “Someone is going to save the whales! The princess’s own consultant! But, that doesn’t mean you still can’t donate!”

I shook my head. They were the most annoying thing ever.

Entering the Pony Express, I saw the pony behind the counter seemed equally annoyed by them, as she had a radio going on fairly loudly in the shop. I willed the letter down to the counter.

She picked it up, bobbing her head to the pop music being played in the background. “No problem!” She was shouting over the radio to be heard. “I’ll have this sent over right away!”

“Thank you!” I replied, “And good idea with the radio!”

“What?”

Suddenly, a storm of wild clapping and cheering was heard outside. I turned and saw through the window the activists, cheering and pointed to something or somepony I couldn’t really see, due to the door frame. Their voices were muffled by the glass. Feeling it was safe to investigate, I opened the door so I could hear them better.

“Yeah! There she is!”

“Our hero!”

“The whale-saver!”

“There’s the pony of the hour!”

“More like of the century!”

“Look at that, ponies! That’s a real hero right there!”

No other pony other than the activists paid attention to the yellow pegasus that was getting a lot of praise.

My jaw dropped when I saw who it was.

It was the yellow pony who ordered the plain grass sandwich.