Burning Orchestral Domination
by Selbi
First published
When Octavia finds a fiery-red feather, she doesn't pay it much mind at first. Except now the cellist has to live together with her mythical and, most importantly, hot companion—not always an easy task. It's just a shame cellos are ma
When Octavia finds a fiery-red feather, she doesn't pay it much mind at first. Except now the cellist has to live together with her mythical and, most importantly, hot companion—not always an easy task.
It's just a shame cellos are made of wood.
Inspired by this shirt.
Cover art vectors by:
- VaderPL
- TheFlutterKnight
- TheSmilingPony
Huge thanks to:
- Abcron and Kaidan for all their pre-reading and editing help!
Chapter 1: A Burning Feather
“Haaaaaaahhhh…”
Octavia let out a large exhale as she relaxed on a park bench. Although the play at the Grand Galloping Gala was a success, she was happy to have some time for herself after all those months of nonstop practice.
She put the term ‘cellist’ aside for a few days, barely acknowledging the fact that she was a musician. She planned to just let the daily struggles of being in a world of melodies not bother her. It felt great for her to simply disregard her stance in the business.
Unfortunately, that doesn’t change the fact that she still was a pony like any other, as she was reminded by her rumbling stomach—she had to get something to eat.
“Hmm, what should I get today?” she asked herself. “I already had a rather big feast after the Gala. Something rather simple should do it for now. I’m not that hungry anyway.”
After scanning her mental list of possible places to go to, she decided it was best to get a small snack at Sugarcube Corner—a white cupcake with an electric blue topping and crimson red sprinkles. The thought of liking Vinyl so much that she’d actually eat her sounded somewhat awkward in her head, but she didn’t pay it much heed as it wouldn’t change the fact that the cupcake would taste delightful. Besides, she could always eat it in her honor, giving mental support from several hundred miles away, hoping that whatever it was Vinyl produced under the tag ‘music’ would still please her fans. She didn’t understand it, but as long as others did she didn’t complain.
With another small sigh, enjoying the soft nature around her for a bit longer, she got up and headed towards the town center of Ponyville. While the streets were quiet during this time of day the few ponies she met along the way still greeted her happily, to which she always responded in kind. She may not have been born in Ponyville—having been raised as Canterlot nobility instead—but she got past that state of mind within a few weeks after meeting Vinyl.
As she trotted down the street, her mind imagining the sugar bomb that was soon to be inside her stomach, she noticed an orange-red object emerging from the distance. As she got closer to it she identified the object as a feather. She stopped for a moment to further inspect it.
“I’ve never seen anything like this before,” she openly said to herself. The texture of the feather looked like any ordinary one would, with the exception that the tips of the hairs all seemed to be a little fuzzy, though not in an unorganized way. The orange and red mixture of colors, which also seemed to be topped off by the occasional yellow, gave the feather a warm touch; almost fiery.
She carefully stretched out her hoof to touch it, careful not to destroy the beauty of the feather, and felt the unusual object lightly tickling her senses. It managed to draw a small smile on Octavia’s face, though a standalone feather on the ground could hardly tickle her enough to actually laugh. However, she noticed the unusual softness of it—softer than any feather she had a chance to feel before—on top of a tiny amount of heat escaping the center of the feather. It wasn’t much, but enough to be noticeable.
With a grin she decided to pick it up and put it into her hair. Going to a nearby window she looked at her reflection, specifically at her black mane being topped off with an easily visible pinch of red contrast. Her grin grew into a smile—the combination looked really well on her.
Her act of self-admiration was interrupted when the grumbling from her stomach reminded her of her original plan. With a turn she was back on her way to the diabetes factory known as Sugarcube Corner.
Just as she was about to get the images of the Vinyl-cake back into her head she heard a loud cawk, accompanied by an angry scream. Octavia turned to the direction of the source of the noises. She wasn’t sure how to react at what she saw.
A seemingly abused bird with a goofy expression and severe lack of feathers emerged from behind the building, hastily flying towards the sky with whatever energy it had left. Octavia could tell that the few feathers still attached to its body had the very same color as the one in her hair. This made her realize that whatever happened to the bird must have been the reason why her hair held one more color at the moment. The bird’s movements were quirky and lacked any clear pattern, much against the concept one would expect of a normal bird.
The few split seconds she had to think of reasons behind this immediately passed as a light yellow mare with a pink mane came running from the building, a vicious expression on her face. Octavia identified the mare as Fluttershy, Ponyville’s self-proclaimed top vet.
“Get back here, you stupid bird!” she shouted with angst very unusual to her usually very shy and careful behavior.
The command was only answered with another squawk, as the fiery creature ascended further towards the sky. Fluttershy decided that running wouldn’t help her much to get to the exhausted, yet still fast-flying bird, so she took off to the sky as well, chasing after the slowly nearing object of her desire.
“What did I even do to you, Philomena?! All I wanted was to help you get better!” Fluttershy screamed at the bird. “Just because you’re Celestia’s pet doesn’t mean you can escape my kindness!”
“Okay, looks like someone is having a bad day. It’s not like you see the shyest pony in town suddenly turning into a psychopath with a god complex everyday,” Octavia said to herself, chuckling lightly, albeit uneased.
Her chuckle was interrupted when a bright flash suddenly appeared in the sky, making her cover her eyes with her hoofs. Just a few seconds later she looked at the sky again, only to see that chase had abruptly come to an end, as the frightened bird was a replaced with a burning pile of ashes falling down from the sky.
A sudden gust of wind connected with the pile and made it scatter all over the place. Some of the ashes even reached Octavia, and she believed a few particles even landed on her back.
The Pegasus in the sky started to burst into tears at the sudden realization, her whimpering and moaning being added to the only minutes-ago silent Ponyville noon. A few seconds passed before she moved the hooves covering her eye away, tears flowing like a waterfall down her cheeks. She scanned the surroundings a little in hopes she could somehow find something to undo what she had just witnessed. Her eyes rested on the gray mare with the red feather in her mane.
Without much hesitation, Fluttershy started flying towards Octavia, who just realized she was in the crosshair of the ‘kindness’. She didn’t need to think long before her hooves were lightly galloping along the streets, as she ran to find some place to hide. Although she wasn’t as well-built as some other ponies—her special talent having absolutely nothing to do with fitness—she was still able to build up a reasonable speed.
“Hey, you! Wait! Where did you get that feather from?!” It was clear that Octavia wouldn’t see a tomorrow, let alone her cupcake, if she got caught by the insane vet now. That thought gave her just the right amount of adrenaline to run into an alleyway, her visage being covered by the buildings surrounding her. Although she knew the Pegasus saw her entering the alley, she could use the few seconds she had while being out of her vision to find some cover.
Fortunately, said cover was laid out in front of her in the form of a small crate. It wouldn’t be comfortable, but one or two small splinters would definitely be a less horrible fate than the one she would meet if she didn’t take her chance to hide.
Octavia almost jumped into the wooden box and did as best as she could to hide her entire body in it. Thankfully, her body was gray; any bright colors could have easily been spotted through the small openings between the boards.
As expected, Fluttershy flew by, her fury blinding her enough to not even take a second and look at the objects she passed in the alleyway. Instead, she simply headed straight to the other end of the alley and turned left, disappearing behind the corresponding building.
After waiting patiently in the box, possibly a few minutes more than necessary, she got out and carefully trotted towards her house. She kept expecting her personal apocalypse in the form of a crazy mare to be around every corner, ready to painfully end her life there and then on top of taking the feather away from her.
The door shut behind behind her. Thanking Celestia that the trip to her home had not been her last, she let out a deep sigh and looked into the entrance hall’s mirror. Her mane was a complete mess and she still had a few wooden particles all over her body—thankfully none of them being in it. However, the red feather seemed to be brighter and more vivid than before, not bearing any damages in the least.
Suddenly Octavia wasn’t so sure about the amazingness of this feather anymore, if it was responsible for her running away from a psychopath. She laid the red object on a nearby table and headed off towards the kitchen.
“Well, looks like it’s only going to be a sandwich,” she said to herself with a slightly disappointed sigh.
The soft melody of slowly vibrating strings filled the house during the evening.
After the turnout of events today Octavia wasn’t really in the mood for leaving her house anymore. Her appetite had vanished almost completely, only the lettuce and bread finding room in her tummy. With not much else to do, she decided to take a break from her break and play a little. Nothing in particular came to mind, just random bits of melodies that found their ways into her mind recently.
A particularly upbeat melody suddenly hit her, something unusual. It wasn’t anywhere near what Vinyl would produce, but it was still unusually ‘rockish’ for her. The thought of playing something different for once was an awkward experience, but still very funny.
Suddenly, a thud came from the ground floor. “Is Vinyl back already? I thought she wouldn’t be back for at least two more days…” Although she didn’t think that was the cause of the noise, she didn’t want to leave out a welcoming hug in the unlikely case that the DJ was indeed back ahead of schedule.
She rushed down the stairway and scanned the entrance hall. There was nothing unusual in sight. However, just as she wanted to turn around and get back to playing, putting off the event as a mere coincidence of unimportant matters, she heard another thud, this time much clearer than before.
Turning around again, she noticed that the red feather wasn’t at the same place it was just a few seconds ago. Nervously, she walked towards the now ever-so-slightly glowing object laying on the table, hesitating to take a closer look at it. She didn’t believe in supernaturalism, but that doesn’t mean she didn’t want to avoid just-in-case scenarios.
Another thud filled the room, the time interval to the previous one being much shorter than to the first one. It was clear now: the feather was responsible for the noise. It shook almost violently, glowing brightly for a split second, sending off a few sparks which disappeared only a second later, and laying itself back down on the tabletop, an afterglow pulsing much more visibly than the one before. A clear warmth was radiating from it now.
Part of Octavia’s mind told her—almost screamed—that she should just throw the thing out while she still had the chance. It told her that her house could burn down should this thing keep getting hotter and hotter. The other part of her mind, however, was just way too captivated by the beauty of the now literally fiery feather, eager to see what was next.
“The least I could do is get some fireproof placemats so nothing will catch on fire,” she figured. But just as she was about to turn around and run into the storage room to look for something that would do the job, the feather started to levitate itself up vertically. Its pulsing glow seemed to get brighter and brighter every second, the radiating warmth turning more and more into heat.
Octavia’s mind once again reached out to her, ordering her to not just stand there and get something to help avert an incident resulting in fire fighters carrying her out of her burning house—pictures which her subconsciousness tried to throw at her in hopes it’d help. It didn’t; Octavia simply stood there, mouth agape, staring at the potential arsonist.
A few seconds passed without a turn of events. That was interrupted when the feather’s hairs suddenly were all replaced by fire. In what seemed to be only the blink of an eye, the feather exploded, sending off a wave of heat and an incredibly bright light, brighter than the flash she had seen earlier that day in the town centre. Octavia once again covered her eyes and felt the heat wave wash over her skin, bundled with a slight blow of air.
When the bright light receded enough for her to look at the spot where the feather burst into flames a moment ago, she was both surprised and startled.
There, on the counter, stood a small bird with fur and feathers looking exactly like the object it was apparently made from. The creature wasn’t taller than a few inches—nothing in comparison to the ducky bird she saw earlier. High pitched squeaks came from its small beak, while it naively waddled around, possibly wondering where it was—or what it was. After a few steps, summing up to only a few inches, it noticed the gray mare looking at it with a surprised expression.
Octavia just stood there, unable to think or do anything, and just stared at the bird. As if on command to break the awkward silence, the bird started to smile and fluttered its tiny wings, as though it wanted to fly over to the pony. This was topped off with a bunch of happy chirps.
The cellist’s heart melted at the sight, her anxious mood suddenly being replaced by admiration and sympathy. She extended her forehoofs and picked the bird up.
“N’awww, aren’t you just the cutest thing ever?” she mumbled through a wide smile for the poor creature. She brought it to her face and nuzzled it, the difference in size between head and body being very clear. That didn’t change a fact about the lovely moment of body heat exchange though.
After the brief pseudo-hug was over, Octavia withdrew the bird and gently set it down on the table again. She put a hoof to her mouth. “Hmm, I’ve never seen a bird like you before, let alone the way you appeared.” Only then did she notice that the eruption from earlier didn’t leave any damage, apart from a few strains of ash being here and there. Those weren’t a problem though, a small wipe with a duster and everything would be gone.
“Hmm… What are you anyway, to begin with? And where do you come from?” At the sudden shower of negatively charged questions, the chirper felt a wave of sadness overcoming it, its face turned from the previously happy expression to a frown.
“Oh, no no, don’t cry, please! I’m sorry. I was just thinking out loud again…” The comfort helped little, but it was enough to avoid a potential moment of melancholy. It was clear to Octavia that the bird knew about as much about itself as she did. However, that didn’t discourage the cellist: there were answers to these questions, and she was determined to find them!
A loud crackling came from the outside and both the pony and the young chick looked outside the window—it had started to rain. “Hehe, looks like we have to wait until tomorrow to start this journey and find answers.” She let out a moan. “It was getting late anyways.” She offered the small critter a hoof and let it hop onto it. After doing so, she put it on top of her head and headed for the staircase.
Just as Octavia was about to hit the first stair, she stopped and picked up the bird resting on her mane again. “Hold on, I forgot one thing: you need a name! But what could work for a fire-themed bird like you?” Although it was clear her new companion couldn’t communicate with her verbally, it still seemed to understand what she said and put a thinking expression on its face. The cellist smiled at that image and laid on said expression as well, running through a list of potential names.
“Hmm, Firebird? Nah, too cliché. Hot Shot? Ugh, no way, I don’t want anypony to think my imagination is on par with that of a mole. Flammenwerfer? Could work, it’s just too bad nopony speaks Germane around here anymore. Pyro? Infernalizer? Combustoclaw?” A couple other names ran through her mind, all of them being immediately dismissed. Eventually though, a smile appeared on her face as inspiration struck her.
“What do you think about… Flamewing?” she asked the red-orange chick. Said critter was starting to chirp happily at the new name. “Haha, so it be then. Welcome to the family, Flamewing!”
She put her freshly named companion onto her top again and headed off into the upper floor to find some rest. It’d be the first of many happy nights with her new friend.
Author's Notes:
Oh wow, yet another story inspired by Fleshgod Apocalypse? Yeah, Technical Death Metal and ponies just have so much in common, y'know? :V
Thanks to Kaidan and Abcron for literally taking this story apart and reassembling it so it doesn't suck.
Also thanks to RainbowBob for assisting me with the story's description.
Chapter 2: Cleansed By Fire
“Octavia, you’re on in five minutes.”
“Oh, okay.”
“Good luck.”
“Heh, thanks!”
The cellist sighed and got up. Minutes later the curtains opened and exposed Octavia, her instrument ready in her hooves. Without taking any closer look at the crowd she started singing.
It was a particularly sad song and the recent events of her now ex-marefriend almost supported her. The slow piano melody supporting her soft lyrics, soon to be bundled with her cello, made sure there was nopony in the room without wet eyes or tissues ready at hoof.
She didn’t pay any attention to them and just concentrated on her singing.
“You hurt me now, but I won't cry, I am Octa-vi-a!
You hurt me now, but I won't cry, I am Octa-vi-SCRAAAAAAAAAAAAH—”
Octavia quickly got up as the incredibly loud noise interrupted her dream, responsible for pulling her out of her musical pseudo-melancholy. After a few seconds she realized that it was not her tired eyes missing something, there simply wasn’t anything out of the ordinary there.
She was about to get back to sleep when she realized that something was on top of her head. With an upward glance at her bangs she made out some orange contrast to her dark-hued hair. After another slow second of sleepy thought, she said, “Ugh, morning, Flamewing.”
She rubbed her eyes and looked at her alarm clock. “Eight thirty-one. C’mon, couldn’t you have given me another half hour?” she complained, albeit with a light-hearted undertone. It was a freshly born bird after all, still lacking the knowledge of some basic rules in the musician’s house—one of which was obviously ‘Do NOT wake up Octavia!’
This made her think about her dream, wondering why she would fantasize about herself and Vinyl breaking up in such a dramatic manner. They were different, but the music still connected them. Octavia figured it was merely because her mind needed an excuse to dream of singing such a sad song, possibly missing her already. Thankfully, it was only one more day before she would return.
Since she was awake now anyway she didn’t think trying to find a little more rest would make any less tired, so instead she got up and headed off to the kitchen. Flamewing was resting on top of her again. It seemed to be the small companion’s favorite resting spot.
Octavia started brewing some coffee and toasted some bread. She suddenly thought of something important. “Uhm, Flamewing, what do you want to eat? I’m afraid I don’t have any millet or other bird food…”
Flamewing fluttered down on the kitchen counter, its movements still a little uncertain; it was clear it would need at least a few more days before it could fly properly. Octavia opened the cupboard and laid out some alternatives to grainy food on the plate, letting Flamewing chose what it wanted. After some time, her feathered friend found its desired food: chocolate spread.
“Wait, what? Of all the things I would’ve expected you to eat, it certainly wasn’t Neightella! But then again, it does contain nuts, hehe.” She opened the jar, picked up a knife with her mouth, and put some of the brown on it. Flamewing moved over to it, stared at the thick substance for a second, and then threw its small beak into the sugary pile.
After the spread disappeared from the knife, Octavia failed at suppressing a giggle with her hoof held to her mouth. “Hahaha, you should look at yourself!” Flamewing’s once red head was now almost completely covered in brown, some small strips having even made their way down its body.
“Well, do you want more?” Octavia asked.
Flamewing let out a small burp, not exactly the kind of response she had in mind.
“You can burp?!” she almost exclaimed. “Wow, looks like there are lot of things that make you different from a normal bird. Coming from a feather, eating chocolate spread, and being able to burp.” She paused for a moment. “Hmm, come to think of it, I still don’t even know what you are.”
A loud click came from the coffee machine, signaling that it was done brewing. “Well, we should go to Twilight Sparkle to ask her about you. I’m sure she has read enough books to give us some elucidation on the matter.” She ripped off a sheet from the kitchen roll and wetted it. “First of though, we gotta get that brown stuff off of you.”
She was about bring the wet paper down on Flamewing, but the bird jumped up and tried to escape as fast as it was possible for its tiny body.
“Hey, wait!” Flamewing made no efforts to stop, but eventually realized it just wasn’t fast enough to outrun the full-grown mare after it. It jumped into the bread case, smearing sugary chocolate everywhere.
Octavia saw her chance and was about to forcibly wash the fiery bird who was lightly shivering in the furthest corner of the case, but suddenly stopped and spat out the wet cleaning device. “Hold on a second… Fiery… Wet… Of course, you don’t like water!”
At that statement Flamewing turned around to meet her eyes. “Oh, I’m so sorry! It was pretty obvious, but I didn’t think enough.”
Flamewing got out of the box. It was still a little worried, but nowhere near its former state of mortal terror. Octavia smiled, reassuring her friend that everything was fine. “Still, I can’t let you run around with so much chocolate covering your body. Only problem, how am I supposed to clean you if water isn’t going to be an option?”
At that question, Flamewing lowered its head and started to glow lightly. Octavia took a step back, taking a hint of what was about to happen. Flamewing spread out its feathers, lifting its head with closed eyes, and became engulfed by a small, bright inferno. It wasn’t nearly as bright as it was when Flamewing appeared from the feather the day before, but still bright enough make Octavia squint.
Once the fire was gone, Flamewing was completely free off any brown substance. “Heh, cleansed by fire.” Flamewing smiled. Octavia noticed at that moment that it had grown a little, the feathers and fur bearing a darker, more reddish hue. “So this is how you grow? You are full of surprises!”
She turned to her coffee machine. “I could use some warmth as well…”
After the interesting breakfast and Octavia making herself look presentable, combing her mane and putting on her pink bow, she left her house and headed off to Twilight’s library; Flamewing sat on her head again.
Ponyville only had the few early workers on their streets which had to get up at that sleepy morning. If it wasn’t for the early interruption of her sleep, Octavia may have been one of the many ponies still in their dream world.
The ponies she crossed all greeted her kindly, although it was obvious they were slightly confused by the red thing sitting on her head. But as she’d expected such reactions, she didn’t pay them any heed.
That was until she noticed a ‘Missing’ sheet with the goofy bird from the day before on it. Octavia knew they wouldn’t find it, at least not in the way it appeared on the drawing, but she didn’t want to risk anything. She decided it was best to increase her tempo to Twilight’s library, hoping that nopony on her way would ask unwanted questions.
Thankfully, her trip didn’t have any such ponies on it. She knocked at the door of the tree-house (or house-tree?).
“Coming!” a boyish voice came from the inside. The door opened and small, purple dragon emerged from behind it. “Hello, what can I… Peewee?” He interrupted his greeting as he saw the bird on Octavia’s head. “Uhm…”
“Oh uhm, hello, I’m Octavia. This is Flamewing.” She looked up at her companion. “I wanted to talk to Twilight Sparkle. Is she available?”
“Right…” The dragon turned around and shouted, “Twilight, here’s someone who wants to talk to you! She has a phoenix with her.” As if on cue, Twilight rushed to the door, an excited expression on her face.
“Oh, hello, hello! Please, come in! Make yourself at home!” she said before even taking a closer look at the cellist. Once she did so, her overly happy expression turned into a slightly frown, but she remained friendly.
“Thank you,” Octavia said as she entered the library. Twilight showed her the way to a table with a few chairs and motioned her to sit down.
“Do you want some tea? I’ve just finished brewing some,” she asked.
“No, thank you. I just had coffee.”
“Alright, no problem.” She poured herself a cup and set down. “So, what can I do for you? I’m guessing it’s about phoenix on your head? What’s it called?”
“So that’s what they are called? Good to know,” Octavia said, happy to finally know the name of her pet’s species. “Well yeah, I would like to get some questions about phoenixes answered. Her name is Flamewing.”
“Her?” Twilight asked.
“Uhm, yes. I wasn’t actually sure about the gender, but I just went with female.” Octavia started to understand why the librarian asked and felt awkwardness building up inside of her. “Oh, let me guess… ‘she’ is a ‘he’, right?” Twilight nodded. “Well, dammit.”
“Male phoenixes have slightly darker fur and feathers than female ones and are a tiny bit taller as well,” Twilight explained. “It’s okay though, I see a lot of ponies making that mistake. Phoenixes aren’t that common to begin with.” She giggled. “But that’s actually a good point: how did you find Flamewing?”
Octavia hesitated at first, not sure whether she should tell her about the crazy vet that looked like she wanted to end her life after the cellist found the feather. However, she decided it wouldn’t make a difference, so she told her the full story. She started with how she just wanted to eat some cupcakes and how she found the red feather.
Twilight interrupted her as she told her about the ‘goofy’ bird. “Hold on, d-did you say an almost featherless phoenix burst into flames and its ashes were scattered everywhere? Oh no, this is bad, this is very bad!” The calmness of her was almost instantly replaced by worry. She noticed the gray mare starting at her, begging for explanation. “You see, phoenixes are technically immortal. Once they get old and weak they get rid of their feathers and eventually burst into flames, incinerating themselves. From the pile of ashes that is created, the phoenix is brought back to life, healthy and well-up.”
“But why is that a problem?” Octavia asked.
“Because it wasn’t a pile! If the ashes aren’t in one place, there is no way the phoenix can revive itself, trapping it in limbo and basically killing it that way.”
“Oh… okay, I understand. But excuse me if I sound rude, I still don’t understand why it is such a big deal.”
“It wasn’t just any phoenix. It was Philomena, the pet phoenix of Princess Celestia!” Twilight almost screamed at her. Octavia’s jaw dropped to the floor. “What was the princess’ pet doing in Ponyville?!” she exclaimed.
“When she visited Ponyville a few days ago she brought Philomena with her. She has gone missing after that, and from your story I can only imagine it was Fluttershy who took her. It’d be fitting for her, she often lets her kindness do things which have good intentions but do more harm than good. You said she was in rage?” Octavia nodded. “Yeah, that’s her. You being here—talking to me and being fine—lets me assume you took some cover?”
“You have no idea,” Octavia said bemusedly. “Anyway, my story wasn’t done yet. May I continue?”
“Oh, of course,” Twilight said.
Octavia talked about how she got home and how the feather made loud noises as she was playing cello, eventually exploding and bringing Flamewing to life. “I don’t understand it, so that’s why I hoped you could help me get some answers.”
“Well, I’ve never heard about a phoenix being born from a feather, as they normally hatch from eggs. My guess would be that it was some sort of ‘plan B’ after the ashes couldn’t revive Philomena. That would at least explain why it’s only a baby and doesn’t remember anything. What I don’t understand, though, is why it’s male, as Philomena was female.” She sighed. “I need to tell the princess about this. She will not be pleased that her pet phoenix was literally reborn and had a gender switch on top of that.”
“Wait, does that mean I can’t keep Flamewing?” Octavia asked, slight sadness building up in her. “I only found him yesterday and we already became good friends… Does he really need to go?” She looked at him, understanding by his frown that he also unhappy about this.
“I’m sorry, but rules are rules. I mean, I can ask Celestia if she is okay with you keeping Flamewing, but I wouldn’t get my hopes up too high.” She put a hoof besides her mouth and shouted, “Spike!”
The dragon appeared just a few seconds later, quill and parchment ready in his hand. After Twilight finished narrating to him, he set the paper on green fire as the magical ashes escaped through an open window. Surprisingly, the reply from the princess took only a few seconds. Spike unfolded the burped-out letter and started reading.
Dear Twilight,
From your report it looks like my pet has found a new owner and is happy that way. I won’t break their new bond if she promises to keep good care for Philomena—or rather, Flamewing—and also keeps me informed about her well-being. My recent schedule was so full that I barely had time for her anyway, so this isn’t that bad actually.
But please tell her one thing: Should she hurt my former pet in any way, I’ll personally take it away from her.
Your mentor and ruler of Equestria,
Princess Celestia
Octavia didn’t need to think twice to know that having to take care of Flamewing was quite a burden, and the tone towards the end of the letter made clear that failing to do a proper job would have consequences. Big consequences.
“Well… hehe, thanks, I guess,” she chuckled.
“Oh, don’t worry. I’m sure you’ll do a fine job,” Twilight assured her. “Now with that being cleared up, is there anything else you want to know about phoenixes?”
Octavia thought for a moment and said, “Well, today, while I had breakfast with Flamewing, he engulfed himself on fire after he refused to get cleaned with water. After that he was not only clean but also taller and a little darker.”
“Yeah, that’s how phoenixes grow up. They burn themselves and reappear a little bigger than before, their bright fur eventually being replaced by a nice and smooth red. There’s one thing you should keep in mind though…” She hesitated.
“What is it?” Octavia asked.
“Well, most of the time this is a self-controlled process, but sometimes it happens randomly, often triggered by small impacts, such as sneezing. That’s why these uncontrolled growth moments are called ‘sneeze eruptions’.” She noticed Octavia’s mouth opening and said, “Before you ask, yes, phoenixes can sneeze. The can also burp and fart.” Both ponies started to laugh.
“Well, this was certainly good to know. I think I got everything I need now. Though, what do phoenixes like to eat? As I said, Flamewing pretty much dove into my Neightella. Do they like sugary food?”
“Yes, they do. However, I wouldn’t only resort to that, as they can still get fat, just like any other bird. It’s not wrong to sometimes just get some normal bird food from time to time, such as millet,” Twilight explained.
“Yeah, I can agree here,” Spike said. “My own pet phoenix, Peewee, wouldn’t stop eating whatever sweets he could find.”
“Hold on, you have a phoenix yourself?” Octavia asked in surprise. “That’s cool! Maybe they can hang out from time to time and play a little?”
“Yeeaahh… not gonna work,” Twilight said. “Baby phoenixes are incredibly self-righteous amongst other ones. Trust me, it’d be better if we keep them apart from each other until they are older.”
“Hm, if you say so.” Octavia put Flamewing on her head again. “Anyway, I think I’ll be going. Thanks for all the information and asking Princess Celestia if I could keep Flamewing. I really appreciate it!”
“Ah, it’s no problem at all. I’m glad I was able to help. And if you have any more questions, feel free to come around again and ask them. My door is always open.” She looked at the huge pile of books she built up for her recent studies. “Well, almost always.”
The four of them moved towards the door and said their farewells. After it had closed, Octavia asked Flamewing, “Well, now that you’re officially part of the family, want to get some cupcakes?”
The happy chirping made the answer to that question obvious.
“To the diabetes factory then!”
Author's Notes:
I apologize for the terrible I Am Octavia opening scene. It sounded much better in my head. This was a lesson for me to not take other fan works without making sure I wouldn’t drag its name into dirt.
Another thing, I know this story doesn’t exactly follow the original time- and storyline of the show, but I don’t think it’s different enough to warrant an Alternate Universe tag.
Finally, this chapter’s name was inspired by more metal, although not by Fleshgod Apocalypse, but this. Contrary to popular believe, Death Metal isn’t the only kind of distorted noise I listen to.