The Confession of an Ardent Heart

by SpitFlame

Chapter 3: Over a Stiff Drink

Cloudbuster drew in the cart up to the city's bay docks, along the waiting platforms of one of the smaller train stations, indeed landing with a clatter. Nova jumped from the cart, making sure to drop a coin of five bits (of his own money) where he was seated, as the tip.

Nova walked down the wooden path, finding himself in the quieter parts of the city. The taller buildings were a way's off, here there were many houses stretching out in rows. He reached a sign post, which held up an arrow pointing straight ahead, reading: "Downtown, one-point-five kilometers."

"Come now, Nova Tale, where's that blasted hospital?" said Nova in an undertone. He paused, deep in thought. "Last time I came here, I think, it was by the east side of Baltimare, situated on one of the main streets. Hmm..." He looked around him momentarily. "That coachpony landed me in the south district. Very well, on we go."

He took a turn and wandered down the sidewalk in the direction of the sign. He was pondering now, setting his thoughts in order: Alright, here I am amid these houses, but they are all dark. Makes sense most ponies would be asleep by now. Oh, what is that down there? It's glowing. Windows? Oh, an inn, and it happens to be open. Eh, forget that, Nova. You were supposed to have completed this task yesterday, unfortunately you let slip that initial letter.

While walking in the dark, among the few lit lantern posts, he suddenly felt that he had bumped into something with his full weight. He heard the squeaking cry of a mare whom he had almost knocked over.

"Hey! Careful there, buddy! What're you stomping around here for?"

"Ah! My sincere apologies, madame," said Nova instantly, peeking into the mare's face to make her out through the shadows. He extended his hoof for her to grab.

"Pfft! I'm not 'madame,' thank you very much. O-oh... oh, thank you—" she started off scoffing, but when offered a hoof to get up she spoke in quite a different voice.

"Are you alright?" asked Nova.

"Yeah. I'm... fine," she said, dusting herself off. There was a pause, in which she used to look him up and down. "Are you from around here? I can't make you out in the dark. You don't seem too familiar."

"Eh, no, not quite, you see. I have set my course downtown, to the city hospital, you see."

"Hmm, I do see. And what's a stallion like you want in a hospital?"

"Why, somepony awaits me there. Now, if you will excuse me, Ms., I absolutely must make haste," Nova ended by giving a quick bow and continuing his gait.

Now then, where was I? Hospital is to the east, all the better for me. That happens to be closer by, and not a soul wandered these parts. Ah, praise the night in its indirect benefits!

"Hold up a bit," the mare called back, and, catching up to Nova, she flashed him a smile. "It's awfully late. Don't you wanna rest your hooves, kick back to a nice fire, get yourself a drink even? There's an inn down this block, right over there at the end of the sidewalk."

"Apologies for the inconvenience, Ms., but time is marching."

"Call me Bouquet Light, or just Bouquet, that's what everypony calls me," her voice changed even more this time; she spoke in a charming, subtly singsong tone.

"Bouquet Light? Lovely name, but—"

"Are you really on a hurried schedule? Oof, that's a drag."

"Yes, I am bound to the chains of a moving stone, and the chorus is going off, too, along with the stone! Eh, my schedule, that is, my life depends on it."

"Really? Your life?" said Bouquet in faint surprise. "What'll happen if you can't make it tonight? You're going to, like, die?"

"Die? No, no, I don't deserve that, at least not yet. Forgive me, I threw a little hyperbole in there, a little something to make it picturesque. The 'stone' is verse from the Star Swirl era. A perfectly ordinary schedule, is what I meant externally, Ms. Light."

"Please, call me Bouquet. Hmm..." she hummed in thought, and prodded a hoof under her chin. "In fact, I can be all sorts of things, although 'externally' I'm Bouquet."

"Eh, right, yes. Ech—" Nova stifled a cough. "If you wish to know, I am to be retuning to Canterlot in two days, ideally before then."

"Two days? That's all?"

"Two days."

"Oh, come on then," drawled Bouquet in a pleading voice. She put a hoof on his shoulder. "A friend of my dad's owns the inn, for your information. I'm bored out of my skull, too. A little drink couldn't hurt, could it?"

"Yes, but..." Nova paused, going into a state of two minds.

"You said two days, didn't you, hun?" she went on in that same singsong voice, which was more apparent now. "Come on, you should have the time, right? Unless your schedule takes up two days to complete?"

"I need to make a deposit—two deposits, I mean. Wait, wait," he suddenly raised his voice, "first things first: when does your inn close?"

"Twelve, on the dot. The hospital isn't going anywhere."

"Well... eh..." Nova frowned, more to himself than anything. "Look, Ms. Light, I have a fiancé, I am on strict business concerning a relative of hers. If this is an attempt to yank any money out of me—"

"Oho, no, no!" Bouquet practically squealed, laughing all the same. "I've got a boyfriend of my own, though he's away right now. I met him in Las Pegasus, believe it or not, he's a theatre producer. Well, that's enough of that. No funny business, obviously. But we can be friends, right? I've been looking for ponies to quell the boredom around here. The stallions in Baltimare are irritatingly dull, they're all so predictable."

"Eh, this should be nothing but small fry," muttered Nova. "Look, Ms. Light—"

"Be less formal, sheesh! Call me Bouquet, or Booqie if you wanna be extra informal. Oh! I never got your name."

"Nova Tale."

"Mhm, even your name is revealing."

Both ponies stopped walking, as if something was agreed upon without words. She was still smiling at him, although something else, a sort of enthusiasm, flashed into her brain and blazed out, impatiently, in her eyes. Bouquet even started rubbing up against Nova's chest.

Nova, however, whether or not for comical reasons, did not realize this sudden action of hers. He stepped forward, casting a searching gaze at the inn.

"Well," he began, the hesitation exponentially faltering away from his voice, "a drink is a drink, and parched is parched. Everypony is parched, you know! Parched for life, parched for a stiff drink—aha!" he suddenly exclaimed and, turning to Bouquet, grinned and showed his teeth. "You have given me an epiphany!"

"Oh? Do tell," she said, raising an eyebrow.

"Why hurry my haunch under such dreadful conditions? Running blind at night, confused on directions (I could have sworn I went to this hospital before!) and my mouth cries out for a drink, now that I stop to realize it. It can be held on for tomorrow, I have two days after all!"

"And you need to refuel yourself, right?" she said in encouragement, wandering closer to Nova once more.

"Ah, very well, I will deign to drink from your establishment. But I say to you, Bouquet, a drink or two at most. I made a solitary promise a time long past, to compose myself in that manner, or whatnot. One drink, two drinks—but no swindling."

"Really? You're that paranoid?" she said impassively. "It's just an inn. Besides, the drinks we've got might strike your fancy, if you know what I mean..."

"Ha, ha, I would hope so. Well, so be it. How much for a room? I should definitely have enough for that."

"Hmm, depends. If you can impress everypony there I can get you one for free."

"Impress? How do you mean?"

She gave him a deadpanned face. "Do signals always fly over your head? I mean have a good time. Come on, let's go!"

"Right, right, onwards to the brandy," put in Nova, as stylishly as he could. Both ponies set out for the inn.

* * *

The innkeeper, who was in fact on his way to bed, peered out from the porch, curious who Bouquet could have brought with her.

"Just a friend," she said reassuringly, smirking.

"Another guest, eh?" said the innkeeper. He bent forward, peered, ran headlong down the steps, and gestured with a sort of servile rapture. "Welcome, welcome; drink's good and the beds are cheap!"

"I've got it from here, Puff," she addressed the innkeeper rather nonchalantly, and with dignity. She and Nova went up the steps, opened the door to step on in, and the innkeeper Puff made sure to close it behind them.

"Phew! Quite the place you've got peddling," remarked Nova, his eyes darting about.

It was indeed a remarkably cozy and spacious inn. The gloomy shadows were either scattered about or scared off by many candles in their warm, amber glow. The furniture was extremely simple and made of wood: half a dozen tables with four chairs for each one, two sets of benches pressed against the walls, and a counter for the bartender. There were two other doors, one leading off into the basement, and the other upstairs to the second floor, to the bedrooms.

About thirty or so strangers were present, most of whom engaged in chatter with one another, except for one particular earth pony who was passed out on a bench, presumably drunk off his wits.

"Not so apprehensive now, huh," said Bouquet, wandering past Nova to the counter.

Before when they were outside Nova could not make out any of Bouquet's most significant features, but when put in the light he was struck by her sight. She was the type of pony—a pegasus pony, to be sure—who made no noise whatsoever when moving around. Her sways were elegant and slow. She was, for all intents and purposes, extremely beautiful, a true pearl among the rest of this black sea. She had a full figure, with those soft, noiseless movements softened to a peculiar sweetness just like her singing voice. Her coat was white, her mane long and rosy, though tied up in a very loose bun. What struck Nova most of all was when she spoke, which seemed to change now that they were indoors: her upper lip was thin, but her less prominent lower lip was over twice as full, and seemed to be pouting. Her burning coals for eyes, with her long lashes, would have made the indifferent pony—likely a stallion—meeting her casually on the streets, stop at the sight of her face and remember her for a long time.

"Yes, naturally," said Nova, more seriously now. He joined her at the counter. "Say, do you plan on drinking yourself?"

"Well, why not? We could celebrate our new friendship. Hey, Stepan!"

As soon as she called a robust-looking earth pony came out from a postern door in the back, looking as though ready to memorize something important that was about to be said.

"Drink? Drink?" he enunciated rapidly, pointing to both of them.

"Give Nova here a freebee," said Bouquet. "It's on Puff, like always."

"Ah, excellent!" the bartender Stepan practically beamed. "You, lady Bouquet? Usual?"

"Always the usual." She turned to Nova, staring him down as if analyzing him. "Let me guess, you want a cold brandy?"

"Ha, ha, definitely. I, eh, should not have let out that spoiler."

She chuckled at the reply. While Stepan went out back again, supposedly to get their drinks, Bouquet decided to start the conversation anew.

"So, where are you from?"

"Canterlot."

"Wait"— her eyes lit up —"you're from Canterlot? Oh my gosh, I had no idea. Isn't that where all the rich ponies live?"

"Rich? Ah, not for a million years. Although, well, I suppose our position in wealth is markedly greater than the majority of Equestria. But you must not forget, that is, status and reputation is the arbiter of relativism! I may be well off, but says who?"

"Says your residence in Canterlot," she said, smirking sarcastically. "Baltimare ain't so bad either, although we ponies live in slightly more rural conditions, compared to Canterlot."

"As I said—relativism!"

"Drink. Drink," said the bartender Stepan, who had returned at a lightning pace, sliding over two glasses of brandy along the counter.

"Look at that!" laughed Nova. "You too favour brandy. The coincidence is worthy of an investigation on its own!"

"Great minds think alike," chuckled Bouquet, beginning to sip on some brandy, but not without reserve, as though she had no other option. However, she nearly gave a start when Nova drained his mug in a single chug.

"Ah! Life is worth living again!" he shouted at the top of his lungs.

"Oi, sure is!" one of the other ponies with a rough voice heartedly agreed.

"Hey, Stepan, another for the taking," said Bouquet more enthusiastically.

"Another! Another!" Nova went on laughing, not condescendingly, but amiably, and with evident goodwill.

Nova, to the surprise of Bouquet, was drawing significantly more attention to himself than she had anticipated. Several eyes were on him now, some laughing with him, some at him.

"FInally, some energy being pumped back in the inn," remarked the pony on the bench who had been passed out, but had unexpectedly awoken just for the occasion.

"Give it a rest, Silver Clad," retorted another pony, most likely an acquaintance, from a nearby table. "You take down one more mug and that'll be the last bitter drop in a chalice full of sorrow for you."

"How is it he's still standing?" asked a second pony, wreathed in curiosity.

"With all that alcohol in him? Dunno. Can he even pay for all those?"

"Turns out hooch is cut-rate in these parts! Ha, ha!" sputtered the drunk pony. He was now half-erect on the bench, his sickly face completely contorted with an unseemly grin.

"Unsavory as it seems, there is a silver lining—for us, at least," remarked the first pony at the table, and immediately a few others sniggered uncontrollably.

"What do you mean?" the drunk pony drawled out, quite beside himself with anger.

"It means you die, more jokes for us."

There was more laughter.

"Oi!" cried the other pony with the rough voice. "That be my brother, you spoon!"

"Is it? Well, I can see the resemblance."

The mocking laughter built up, so did the reproaching cries of indignation from some others, and Nova was on his fourth drink.

"Aha, what boundless fun!" he declared, pumping out his chest triumphantly.

"So you like to have fun, hmm?" laughed Bouquet, who was not even halfway through her own brandy. "You know, a lot of stallions here are shameless, they're just looking for a good time, one way or the other."

"Me? A good time?" repeated Nova in a patter. "Ha, what time is ever good but the now? The past is riddled with errors, the future is all anxiety and fearing the worst to come—but the present is everything, everything!"

"Well, maybe not you," she drawled with the same warmth. "I'll give you that. I never understood why ponies love to drink so much. Except maybe I do. It's not the drink that's so riveting, it's the effect of the drink. Hey, you want a fifth one?"

"Bouquet, please, you torment me with your generosity," Nova objected, speaking passionately now (he was very drunk), as though he were a soul appealing to some higher divinity. He had completely forgotten about his standard for only two drinks, feeling his senses too great to be left untouched. "You offer so much to me, the excellency of your service, the merry company, at hardly a notice, and without anything in return."

"That does it!" yelled the drunk pony with extreme indignation. He was bubbling over. "They're all tyrants, all of them! They want to take me, take my house away! Bah, get off me, you swine!" Some other earth pony attempted to hold him down, but to no avail; the drunk pony charged at the first pony, causing the nearby table to tip over, and all the mares in the room squeaked with fright.

"Oh dear," huffed Bouquet, rolling her eyes contemptuously at the scene, "so much going to waste."

"So you say..." Nova observed the struggle manifesting before him. At last, after some pondering, he left his stool.

"My good sir, a moment, if you will," interposed Nova, approaching the brawlers. But his tone was far too respectful to be considered sincere.

"Come at it!" the drunk pony was going wild in his stupor. He kept on repeating: "Come at it! Come at it!"

"And I saw him stealing a deck of cards!" accused a pegasus from a second table. "There, you see, you see? To tartarus with you!"

In spite of so much commotion, at least five or six other ponies could not conceal their laughter. The noises rebounded back and forth, both of spiteful shouting and mocking hysterics.

"Gentlecolts, I implore you all to show some finesse," Nova went on, still with a tipsy, half-hearted smile. "Come, let me sing to you all—

Find the Highest good in me,
The Highest in Equestria,
Blight and light and all that trite,
To ever and ever and some other~!

You see, life truly is worth living. But enough of that, I think I'm sobering a tad. Quick, another brandy!"

"Oi. I like this fellow. He seems like decent company."

"Right, ha, ha!"

Nova's little scene was apparently distracting enough to diffuse the situation, or at least to a degree.

"Let's all give it up for Nova Tale, everypony!" Bouquet announced over the room, in a display to add to the ever-growing pool of excitement.

Some ponies cheered, to the point of excessive exaggeration; many still laughed on or complained to their neighbours.

"Can we at least finish our last round of cards?" grumbled the pegasus pony, clearly reaching the limits of his annoyance.

"Hold it!" the drunk pony put in venomously, in order to sour the mood. "The whole world is against me! You—you—and especially you! Ah, me to tartarus? You all to tartarus, that's what!"

"Why so disagreeable?" asked some other pony near him, smiling caustically.

"No, no, I refuse to submit my rights!" the drunk pony would not stop. "They plan to stuff magic in our foods, in our what-have-yous. These Mr. Know-Alls, in their fancy booze-less sch-ool-s, know nothing! I say to refuse, to revolt!"

"Calm down, hun, or we'll have to take your precious moonshine away," said Bouquet sardonically.

"Shut up, you loose mare!" the drunk pony retaliated in patterns of incomprehensible reproach; he sprayed saliva whenever he spoke.

But he barely had any time to exclaim some other insult when Nova flew at him, at the end of his fifth drink. He seized him with both hooves, lifted him up in the air and onto his back, and in an instant carried him out the inn into the outdoor porch.

"I left him there on the ground!" he announced, returning at once, breathless with excitement. "He struggled, the scum, but there's no chance he will get back in. I think he's knocked out again, too!" Nova closed the front door, and wandered staggeringly back to the counter.

In response almost everypony in the room laughed even louder than before.

"My hero!" said Bouquet, rubbing up against Nova and flashing him her burning dark eyes.

"Bravo, Tale Nova, or whatever else! Well done!" several of the ponies rang out, mercilessly yet jovially.

"Bah, to tartarus and back!" spat the supposed brother of that drunken earth pony. And pompously, puffing with indignation, he went through the front door and out the inn. Nova slammed the door behind him.

"Bravo!" Bouquet cried again, hotly and maliciously. "Bravo. And good riddance!"

* * *

What began then was almost a sensual explosion, a party, that is, a feast—a feast of feasts. Nova, in his delirium, was the first to call for food and drink: "For everypony, you hear? Everypony! I have bits, lots and lots of bits, all the bits you'd like and more. Go to the basement, Stepan. Innkeeper, you too!—and whoever else! Get the cheese, and the bread, all the varieties of drinks, and the chocolates, the fruits, the everything! Empty your storage for our most reverent desires!"

And indeed a whole feast was set up, produced from all the assets of the inn's storage supplies. Nova ripped open his package from Sunlight and poured the platinum, one-thousand-bit coins all over the counter. The innkeeper was going wild in excitement to see so much money.

"Of course, master, right away, sir!" he babbled, and immediately began to set up the food and drinks. Every other pony applauded at Nova's immense generosity.

"Oh my gosh!" squeaked Bouquet, terribly excited herself. "You never told me you were worth this much? One hundred thousand?"

"I am worth all that," Nova prattled blissfully, laughing all the same. "And more. I am worth infinitely more. Everypony is worth a million Celestias—infinitely so. Everypony here deserves consolation. Not for anything will I take this back. I don't want any of it. Keep it all, keep it as consolation."

Songs and dancing broke out as well, in which the feast lasted well past midnight, almost into morning even. Nova would spend most of the time with Bouquet, by her side, telling her everything there was to know, his history with the Royal Guard, his demission, his family ties, and so on; he spoke incoherently, disconnectedly, feverishly, yet he spoke strangely, often frowning and breaking off, in spite of his severe drunken state.

"Why are you frowning?" she asked.

"Nothing. Just... I left everything behind," he spluttered at each syllable. "I give my entire life for such a feast, for an hour of the food, and dancing, the merriment. Perhaps I'm a sick pony, but sick in the heart! I must express that which remains silent, I must look past the veil, integrate into my own shadow, look into your own eyes..."

"So you're ready for it?" she prattled to him with a somewhat heavy tongue, and as a consequence her eyes glittered. "Oh! You've been so good..." she started nipping at his neck, kissing and leaving traces of saliva over his jawline. "Here, touch me. That's right. I can be as sweet as you want, oh so sweet..."

Nova appeared to be only semi-conscious, however. He had drank a lot, more than any other pony in the room. He obliged, of course, accepting his happiness anytime soon, whatever that meant. The music continued to play on, and the food was still being served.

"To share in the moonlight?" he said strangely, as though he confused himself.

"Sorta. Come, follow me, let's go upstairs, to the beds."

Within the chaos all the supplies had eventually run out, and the inn mostly ransacked that, by morning, only a few individuals remained, passed out dead on the floor from drinking.