Snapshots

by Shingo

Showy

The moon had risen over the country of Equestria. The vast majority of the population had driven themselves to slumber. Out in between one of the country’s many settlements, two of its citizens were still awake. A dragon and a near featherless bird sat in front of a fire. The dragon was idly blowing into an ocarina; a soothing melody coming from the instrument. The bird coughed and a few feathers fell off of it.

“You okay, buddy?” the dragon asked. The bird nodded in response. It fell into a coughing fit soon afterwards. “You don’t sound okay.” It made a dismissive gesture with its left wing. As it finished the gesture, the last of its feathers fell to the floor. The bird’s pupils shrunk to pin pricks. A small fire ignited itself on its wing. The bird waved the wing trying to put it out, unfortunately it only made the fire grow. The dragon dropped his ocarina.

“Holy guacamole!” he yelled. The bird ran around the fire screeching in pain. Soon, the fire covered its entire body and it turned to a pile of ash. The dragon walked to the pile and picked it up. The ash fell between his fingers. He bowed his head in respect. The sound of the fire accompanied his silence. “I hope your ashes didn’t get mixed in with the fire.” After a few moments, the pile of ash began to move. Cinders that had been between his fingers moved towards the pile. The pile began to take the shape of a tall bird. Three long columns of ash formed on the bottom of it while three formed on the back of what looked like a bird’s head. When the ash stopped moving, it set itself on fire. Bright oranges, yellows, and reds could be seen from it. The fire of the ashes out shined the light of the fire the dragon stood beside. The right wing of the ashen statue moved to its left. It spread the wing out and the fire dissipated. Standing where the ash statue once stood was a flame coloured bird with its right wing opened up. It opened its eyes and a smile appeared on its face. The dragon let out a low whistle.

“Very showy,” he said. He walked to where he dropped his ocarina. “Are you going to do that every time?” The bird tilted its head in confusion. He sat down and picked up the instrument.

“I mean the screeching in pain part,” he explained. “That, and the dramatic display of your rebirth. Was that really necessary?” The bird gave him a deadpan look.

“Good point,” he chuckled. “Think you can sing with me, buddy?” The bird flew to the dragon’s shoulders. Once the bird was in a comfortable position, the dragon brought the ocarina to his lips. He began playing and his companion joined him in song.