Out from the ice of the fire pit leapt a great, dark flame, all ruby and jet.  In an instant it banished the pitiful coals and reached up, and up, rising into a pillar and cracking the ice around it.  The ponies scrabbled back in surprise, a few of the slower yelping at the sudden onslaught of heat.   And heat there was; already the former fire pit began to widen, the nearest snow and ice melting back.  A few of the ponies, whether quicker on the uptake or simply more desperate to feel warm again, stretched out hooves and muzzles towards the flame to bask.  Every eye soon turned to the armored man, one five-fingered gauntlet raised in a fist, tendrils of magic crawling up from between the fingers.  He spoke.