Chapters All was quiet. Aside from the librarian at the desk and the occasional guard, she was the only pony there. She was glad it was that way. She had a reputation to uphold.
The familiar scent of the Canterlot Archives made her very content. Despite her job of blasting music in various clubs, she enjoyed the peace and quiet, especially when she got to read for inspiration. That was the fun part. She'd read all sorts of stories, from the Tale of Two Cities by Charliehorse Dickens, to The Watchmaker's Apprentice by some other author whose name escaped her. But some had provided her enough inspiration for her to deem it worth the time to come here. Her greatest hit thus far was Manticores 'n Stuff , and that had been inspired in the dustiest, oldest library in Equestria.
The pale unicorn shook her head from her thoughts and focused in on the books on the shelves she'd chosen in her mental absence. To her surprise, she was in the non-fiction section of the ancient library, specifically near the Nightmare War. It took a moment to shake herself entirely back to reality, but she did, and started browsing the titles. When she came across one she found interesting, she carefully slid them out with her magic, setting them on a wooden table behind her.
Hours passed, and she had skimmed through seven of the twelve books she'd selected, finding nothing interesting. She sighed, almost bored, setting down her most recently finished book. She picked up the eighth from the stack. It was brown-leatherbound, with significant age showing just from the leather. However, the gold-edges of the pages was still as lustrous as ever, and the gilded title on the front and spine of the old tome were still clear and distinct. She smiled softly, reading the title:
The Final Push: Memoirs of a Guard
She opened the book, curious of its contents. Immediately, she lifted her sunglasses to read the foreword:
Within this book lie the memories of an average Solar Guard at the Battle of Noc'tren. The contents of this book are my memories, and like them, shall not be censored in any way. The content may be graphically disturbing, and thusly is not for foals. Reader discretion is highly recommended and encouraged.
~Private Gray Wing, 5th Dawn Battalion 21st Halberd Squad
"Interesting," she murmured to herself quietly. She flipped the page, and continued.
--
It was dark. It was very, very dark. So dark, that even with the campfires scattered across the plains, one would still see more by closing their eyes. But I had been told to keep a sharp lookout for an anticipated air-raid. So I watched the dark, stormy sky even though I couldn't see a thing.
"You'd think the Princess would tell the weather ponies to clear the skies," my buddy and wingpony grumbled, annoyed at his blindness.
"Even the civvies around here are loyal to Luna. Celestia has no authority here until we win," I retorted quickly, keeping my sightless eyes to the sky.
"Then why the hell don't we do it ourselves?" a much younger voice reasoned. I turned to the scrawny pegasus who was just barely old enough to have joined the Guard and completed training. "We're all pegasi here."
"Because red-tape," I growled, irked by the alabaster greenhoof. "We're humped if we do it. Eagle will have our flanks if we do anything without authorization."
"But we're humped if we don't clear the skies," he countered. "The loonies cou–"
"And there's that beautiful Catch Twenty-Two," my wingpony interjected, shutting the greenhoof up. I offered one of my scratched and rough stone-gray hooves, which he promptly bumped with one of his own brown ones. He turned his gaze back to the sky, watching the expanse of pitch in its viscosity. His ear twitched, shifting his dirty, blood-stained blond mane.
"Hear anything, Tic?" I asked, knowing he did. What specifically he heard was the real question, and he knew it.
"Somepony dropped a halberd on a cloud," he answered, closing his eyes. "Enchanted weapon. Cobalt core. Loonie weapon."
"Doesn't 'Keet have a Loonie's halberd?" the greenhoof on my left asked, shifting his weight on the wooden watchtower's floorboards. They groaned in protest. "Could it be him?"
"Could, but I highly doubt. Loonies have the upper skyline right now. If it were daylight out, I'd let it slide. But it's nighttime. I smell a raid."
"Should we call it in?" the greenhoof asked warily.
There was a deafening screech from above the clouds. The instant I realized what it was, my blood curdled like lemonade mixed with milk, and my heart pounded at the bone bars of its prison cell in my chest. The purest fear I'd felt in the war was that single scream. The bitterness of coffee grinds filled my mouth and dried it in an instant. I opened my mouth to scream, but was beaten to the punch.
" IIIIIIIIINNNNNCOOOOMMMMMMIIIIIIIIIIIIIIINNNNNNNG!!!!!"
The entire camp of roughly twenty-thousand troops awoke in a flurry of action. Armor was donned, weapons drawn, and battle cries hollered to the night. The distinctive sounds of war that I knew too well for comfort. But what disturbed me more was not the scream, but the lack of diving thestrals following the sound waves. Each second without their leathery flapping was an eternity of solitary confinement in a sound-proof box. The silence was deafening. The air was charged with static, ready to burst out at any moment.
Thirty... I counted. Thirty-one... Thirty-two...
Forty seconds passed with no attack. Fifty. A minute. Everyone in camp held their defensive poses, arms at the ready, like statues. Sculptures frozen in fear as though by a cockatrice's gaze were we. Only twice did Tic's ear twitch, and that was to flick a carrion-fly away. Only eyes moved, shifting rapidly across the sky like hyperactive rabbits.
Two minutes passed without attack. Three. Five. Eternities of still hell rapidly gouged deep wrinkles in even the youngest of the soldiers. The greenhoof on my left was tense enough to appear made of solid obsidian. He gripped his bow tightly, an arrow already nocked and pulled back just far enough to be a lethal shot at one-hundred meters, but not quite enough to snap the bow.
Ten minutes passed, and a few scattered soldiers had returned to ease, but remained sharply alert. They moved a little bit, pacing maybe. But for the most part the camp remained still, watching the dark sky above.
"Oi! Parakeet Feather! Take your unit up and see what the hell that was!" the gruff bark of our griffon colonel Eagle Beak resounded. My eyes shifted to the bright yellow pegasus known as "'Keet" and his comrades, who stared at the tight-as-a-piano-string colonel as though he were mad. They were all tense. I had no doubts that everyone in camp could feel the tension and perhaps slice it with their halberds.
Another shriek echoed in the night, freezing everyone in place once again. Anyone who had their wings open before it quickly found their wings had gone yeep, clinging tightly to their sides like foals who'd just had nightmares. Even Eagle's wings had latched onto his sides, and his neck feathers had prickled up slightly. It did not help our morale seeing that reaction from the tough-as-cinderblocks griffon that had been giving us our orders for the past month of grueling battles through the heart of the shadowlands.
--
Author's Note
Wait wait wait. Hold up.
Da hel?!
A DarqFox story that isn't TwiShy, nor even tagged Romance? SHENANIGANS!
But yes. This is a story I came up with by listening to the song in the description. How often do you see a story like this?
Besides. I can't work on anything else right now.
<3 DarqFox
Vinyl closed the book, releasing a breath she didn't know she was holding. She inhaled deeply, taking in the cool library air, trying to calm her heart. The intensity of the book had already given her an idea, but she had nothing to work with. In her mind, the gears were turning. Ideas were being formulated and prepped for experimentation at home, where her sound system was.
She reached the librarian's desk in her meditative state, her library card floating in her grasp. She expected the same question-less checkout process as usual, not having to do anything or be jarred from her thoughts. But that expectation was… faulty.
"If you want to check that copy out, you'll have to sign this," the librarian croaked, slapping down a rather thick pad of paper stained black by massive blocks of four-point font legal disclaimers. Vinyl stared at it, attempting to read it through her sunglasses. She failed miserably and lifted her sunglasses for but a moment to see if the removal of her signature shades would make a difference, which it did not. She shrugged and took a quill in her grasp, signing her name in the fifteen places the brick of a legal document required. Upon completion of the legal process of checking out the old book, the librarian filed the document away on a filing cabinet that was the home of a black widow because of its infrequent use.
She trotted out of the library, the old book tucked away in her saddlebags before she could be seen with it. She meandered through the busy Canterlot streets, taking special care to not be seen by the press. She passed all sorts of ponies, from guards to shopkeepers to snobbish nobles to humble construction workers. The white noise of the streets affected her little, her mind locking out everything but the possible melodies and bass-lines she could use for the song she wished to make. It wouldn't be a bright or happy tune like some of her previous tracks, like Flight .
Time flew like a Wonderbolt, only slowing down when Vinyl found herself at her apartment, trying to remember where she'd put her keys. The DJ first checked her saddlebags, then under the doormat, then on top of the lantern. She then remembered where the keys were, and was soon in her modest apartment, which was a scene of organized chaos carefully crafted by her cello-playing roommate. Vinyl sighed upon closing the door.
"OCTY! CLEAN UP YOUR SHEET!" she hollered loudly. There was no response.
After a quick sigh, Vinyl cleared the room by throwing all of the spread out sheet music into a disorganized pile in the corner, leaving the rest of the room relatively decent. She made her way to her own room, which was especially organized, tidy, and overall spotless.
"Thank you for cleaning up, Vinyl," a voice behind the unicorn said through a mouthful of Pop Tarts. "I meant to do that an hour ago--"
"Aaaand you lost that train of thought rather quickly," Vinyl chuckled. She turned around and hugged her roommate and best friend of over a decade, Octavia. The brown earth pony cellist hugged back, careful not to crush or drop her precious, unhealthy toaster pastries.
"Find anything good?" Octavia inquired.
"I think so. I still got a lot of reading to do for it," Vinyl sighed, shooting a look towards her friend that translated to something along the lines of please for the love of the sun just go clean up your mess so I can read.
"Can I read wi--"
"No."
"But I--"
"Nope. Go clean up your mess."
"I'll give you a Pop Tart if you let me read with you," the cellist bribed with a smirk. She waved the toaster pastries in front of Vinyl's nose. "It's even your favorite flavor~!"
"No fair. You know I can't say no to brown sugar cinnamon. If you clean your mess so I don't go OCD on you, and give me a Pop Tart, I'll let you read with me."
"Ugh… Hard bargain… Deal."
The DJ let the cellist go, and got into a comfortable position on her bed, fixing a sheet of paper that had gotten out of line with the rest of the stack with her magic. She set her saddlebags in the small box at the foot of her perfectly square bed, and removed the ancient tome from it. No sooner did she open it, did Octavia jump into the bed and curl up next to Vinyl.
--
The air raid never came that night, though the shrieks and screams above our heads filled everyone's heads with dread and the most severe anxiety our medics had ever seen. A few ponies had collapsed from pre-existing anxiety disorders that had long been dormant before that night. I myself had nightmares when my turn to sleep rolled around.
It was the same the next four nights. Shrieks in the sky, everyone out of their tents and ready for battle, no fight. Terrorism at its finest. Nothing we'd seen had been quite as effective at draining our morale than that scare tactic. But that was the calm before the storm. For upon the sixth night, they attacked with no warning.
I remember it clear as day, the beginning of that dreaded battle. The first death was within my tent. Tic, my wingpony, was hit with a falling halberd, right in the neck. At first, I lunged towards him to assist him. But by the time I got there, too much of his blood was on the tent floor, and he had already lost consciousness. After processing that I could do nothing to help him, I ran out of the tent and into the fray. The damned Loonies were everywhere like a swarm of locusts. Their weapons glowed in the darkness from the magic streaming through them. No doubt, many had exacerbation spells woven into their weapons to make tiny flesh wounds become lethal. So entranced by the shock of the assault was I that I almost died before joining my brothers. An arrow that would have hit me if my halberd were but an inch to the left bounced off my weapon, snapping me back to attention.
Four Loonies approached me from the air, aiming to kill me, as I too had an enchanted weapon. I lifted my weapon and spun it around with my wings and hooves, nailing a Loonie in the nose with the blunt end of my halberd. While he was stunned, I jabbed the sharp end away from him, poking a sizable hole in his buddy's chest. Seeing a pair of hind hooves approaching uncomfortably fast, I ducked beneath them, and then jumped, knocking the attacker on his face. I quickly dispatched him with a strong swing of my halberd. The fourth attacker, who was most likely far too young to have enlisted, attacked with far more anger and hatred towards myself and the army I served in than anypony I'd ever faced. He wielded a sword, shaped and luminous as the moon. I could tell that one scratch from that weapon could easily kill me.
"Wow, Vinyl. This is definitely… something. What exactly are you planning out of this…?" Octavia interrupted.
"I don't know yet. I have to keep reading until I know for sure. But I'm thinking something solemn," the DJ replied.
But I'd forgotten about the pony I'd only stunned. He managed to sweep my hooves out from under me, knocking me to the dusty and bloody ground. The point of the young one's sword rushed towards my snout, but missed when I rolled to my right.
"RAIKI!" I hollered as I swung my halberd as hard as I could at the Loonie who tripped me. The blade sliced through his wing, sending an intense electric charge through his body. He spasmed a few times, and fell to the ground lifeless and slightly charred. Left with only the youngling to fight, I brought my halberd back to a defensive stance.
He dropped his weapon, cackling like a madpony. He laughed as though he'd been told a very funny joke, and couldn't control himself. And to make it creepier, he stood upon his hind hooves. With a bit of blood that had splattered onto him, he drew a cross on his forehead, and from it grew a wicked horn. And like the unicorns I'd fought with, it glowed with a unique emerald aura. His weapon arose from the ground, and split in two.
"You've killed my father and my brothers before me," the youngling growled spitefully. "I will drain you of blood in ten seconds flat!"
He lunged forwards, bringing forth a flurry of attacks with two swords. I blocked right, parried left, ducked and countered as best I could, but I was tired and slowing down. I felt a bit of my mane get clipped by a sword I'd barely dodged. There was a loud clink from my armor as it managed to deflect a sword just enough to keep me alive. I backed off as he pushed forwards, showing no sign of fatigue.
"THESTRICORN! FIRE! FIRE!" I heard to my left.
An volley of arrows rained down from one of our sniper's nests and clipped his wing, distracting him just enough for me to find an opening. A threw my halberd like a javelin, and called out the spell locked within it, "RAIKI!"
As Vinyl turned the page, a small fragment of paper dropped from it. Curious, she lifted it.
"What is that?" Octavia asked, turning to see what it was as Vinyl brought it closer.
"It's… music?" Vinyl answered upon first glance. And to an extent, she was right. Upon the small fragment of paper, there was a bit of music written. It was a very basic single line of melody, designed for a voice. "Octy, you mind going for a bit? I need to work with this."
Author's Note
Shwicketty schwack. It's good to be back.
I have a ton on my plate right now, so I'm just going to write what I can when I can, and I'm so sorry you guys have been so far out of the loop. Hope you all enjoy this new chapter, which may be a little rough.
As always, please tell me what I did right/wrong in the comments below. I love comments.
<3 DarqFox
Chapter 2: First Inspiration
After removing the messy cellist from her highly organized bedroom and studio, Vinyl immediately began looking over the slip of music. She put it into her computer, and played it back, hearing a solemn melody fill her ears. She floated a pair of over-the-ear headphones over, setting it upon her head, and playing it back again. And again. And again. Little by little, she formulated a possible bass line and counter-melody to go with it. She kept the tempo relatively slow, and toyed with the beat, finding what sounded good and what didn't quite fit. She played with it, but only managed to get a beat and a short intro. Unsatisfied, she went back to the slip of paper, inspecting it once more. With nothing more upon it, she sighed in frustration, and sat down to read more.
My halberd missed its mark, slicing only a few hairs off his mane. Seeing that the risk of staying where he was was far too great, the youngling flew away into the night. I never saw him again.
When I turned to keep fighting, I noticed there were no more enemies to fight. Everyone was either dead, dying, or fleeing. Thousands of dead were left of our own troops, gallons upon gallons of blood drenching the ground, the bodies left without a single drop in them. Occasionally, there were bodies missing a limb or two, and those would be halfway across the battlefield. I remember the putrid odor of death as though the battle had just taken place today this March the seventh, six-hundred and ninety years later. I remember it drained what little strength I had left like the Loonie weapons had drained my brothers-in-arms of blood. I collapsed next to my wingpony, Tic. I waited for death to come to me, as it had to my brothers, but it was not swift enough.
Hoo damn, Vinyl thought to herself at the page break. The intensity of the book was enthralling, and she knew she'd have to somehow mirror that without destroying the feel of the melody. She calmed herself down with a few deep breaths and a scan of her room to remind herself of where she was. But once she got her bearings, she dived straight back into the book.
The next day, when I'd recovered from my fatigue, I was moved to a reformed unit, as I was the sole survivor of my own, as my new squad mates the sole survivors of their own respective units. It was me, Magnes (a unicorn), Strong (an earth pony), and Ice (also a unicorn). Magnes worked with swords, Strong with a club, and Ice a hammer. We traded stories right off the bat. I went first, telling of my run-in with the youngling. Magnes followed, sharing how he'd spared a very small thestral, simply taking its weapon and telling it to run. He even protected the tiny thing from his unit. Ice told about his ice magic, and how he could make a shield out of ice harder than diamonds and stronger than steel. He teleported an enemy combatant out of the way of his hammer because he was unarmed and too injured to fight. He then protected that combatant by only fighting those around him who came after him. And Strong told a similar tale. He even went so far as to fight with non-violence, using his massive club as thick as his body (and he was a very big stallion) as a shield. He would then proceed to take hold of enemy combatants and detain them for a short while whilst he rendered them unconscious. There was a pile of sleeping thestrals in our Medics' Tent (bound of course) who had escaped the battle unscathed because of him.
As one of the "strongest" units available, we were hoof-picked by the Princess to go with her into Noc'tren, which was illuminated by bright sunlight in the distance. We knew better than to question our beloved Princess if she'd hoof-selected us for a task. When ponies had been assigned to something by her, they were always the only ponies capable of doing that job.
So we marched with four other units and the Princess, in full gear towards the capital of the Starlight Empire. The walk was filled with stories from many different perspectives of the battle, Celestia personally asking each and every one of us about our experiences. But she told us nothing as to why she wanted to know. And as I told my side of the story, I thought I saw tears in the princess' eyes out of the corners of my own. When I had finished, I dared ask, "I trust you were safe during the fight?"
To which, after being glared at by everyone but the princess, she answered, "…no. No far from it…"
She paused a moment, and we all stopped with her, staring in silence. "I lived my worst nightmare…" the Princess of the Sun finished weakly, "My beloved sister…hath been banished by my own self in the final battle of this forsaken war."
That hit us the hardest of everything that war had thrown at us at that point. Our beloved leader being forced to fight and banish her own sister to the moon. We'd seen some messed up shit, and done some messed up shit in order to keep on living through this day. But our leader, the national symbol of prosperity, grace, and happiness, had been forced to fight her sister, the embodiment of calm, beauty, and love. It shattered our hearts into hundreds of painful fragments for two primary reasons. The first was the obvious loss of one of our beloved princesses. But the other was sympathy. We could not empathize with the Solar Princess, as she was on a different scale, but we all from the sound of it, had siblings we'd fought with many times. But never would any of us have to reach that level of ill-will towards each other. And the toxicity of that wound was the most painful part. And so in pain were we all, that the instant our Leader wept, we wept with her.
Vinyl lifted her shades to wipe away the tears in her eyes.
The devil beat his wife that day*. The clouds above poured the tears of a being that had far more power than she could truly ever consciously control, though the sun still shined as it always did. Thunder and lightning demanded the silence of all things but the rain and the princess' silent sobs. Though the sun shined on us, it gave no warmth because she who controlled it had no warmth left in her. We moved onwards, each taking turns to be the shoulder upon which our broken leader cried. And when it was our turn, we cried with her.
We made it to the mighty gate of Noc'tren, which was left open by the guards there. Looking around, I noticed no guards at all. Not one armed pony, save for those in our party. The citizens were a might too skinny for what we'd originally thought they would be. I could easily see the ribs of the remaining males who were too old to fight, as they had probably given up what food they had to the army, or to the mares and foals who needed it. We passed through the stone streets and past the stone buildings of the mighty city in the mountain, the civilians watching us with broken hearts visible in their eyes. Some bore contempt, but we could see that they were unwilling to continue fighting. Most of them, though, were just… broken, as Celestia was.
We eventually reached what appeared to be the city square, where a large number of ponies were gathered. They were all staring at us, as though they expected Celestia to say something. I guess that would be customary after a leader of a warring nation has been defeated upon the field of battle. She motioned for us to remain where we were, and stepped forth to the center of the crowd.
She looked around with a heavy gaze, observing the crowd assembled there in the square of Noc'tren. She spoke, "Ponies of Noc'tren, I am no longer your enemy."
The crowd murmured amongst themselves, uncertainty coursing through them.
"Ponies of Noc'tren, gather here at the city square, and hear me out!" she called in the Royal Canterlot voice, letting it resound throughout the several layers of the city. They came in droves, they came in waves. They came one by one, and all at once. Miraculously, there was enough room for all of the ponies in that square, though the princess had to lift herself to a balcony behind her. "My name is Princess Celestia, elder sister of your beloved Princess Luna, daughter of Faust. I am no longer your enemy, nor are any of my subjects. We have come to deliver two messages to you."
We soldiers felt a bit uneasy at the mention of this. Strong's tail twitched, as did Ice's ear, and Magnes' hooves. I felt a deep pit grow within my gut, and a sense of dread rushed in to fill it. Something was incredibly wrong. Someone was watching us, waiting.
"Princess Luna is not dead," Celestia continued, generating an excited murmur from the crowd, "but for the safety of our nations, I have been forced to banish her to the moon."
The crowd went dead silent again. I could have sworn I heard the sound of shattering hearts in that silence.
"It has also come to my attention that this war could easily have been prevented by simple charity, and the swallowing of my own pride. So I would like to personally apologize for the pain you've suffered at my hooves, and donate a four years' supply of food to the city of Noc'tren. The first shipment shall arrive tonight at midnight. We will also be bringing back every soldier that fought upon the field of battle last night, be they alive or dead, for reunion with their families, or for final goodbyes and honors respectively.
"Ponies of Noc'tren, I know I cannot undo the damages I've done unto you, and some of you shall hold hatred towards me for the rest of your lives. I know that I am responsible for all of the pain and suffering I've caused, and I can never atone for it. But I can damn well try, for Luna's sake."
I remember to this day that melody (see back of book). Just one of them started singing, a soul-drenching melody that told of incredible, unfathomable loss. One by one, round by round, more of the thestrals joined in, singing the same dirge, in the same key, in near perfect harmony. Every single one joined in, singing that song, tears falling to the ground like rain, the thestrals playing the part of the dark gray clouds. When Celestia rejoined us, we began walking back to the gate. But even as we left the mountain and stepped back out into the sunny rain, we could still hear the song of the thestrals. I could hear it in the wind, that melody that they sang, letting us know that it was over. I remember it vividly in my nightmares and dreams to this day, and when I do, it still brings tears to my eyes.
Author's Note
*The devil beat his wife that day - Based on the expression "The devil beating his wife." which is the situation in which it is still sunny outside, but it is also raining.
This chapter was really fun to write. I've been listening to
this song, which to me, fit the entire chapter really well. First it's all nice and creepifying and shit (the aftermath of the fight), then it gets sad and depressing (Celestia crying). Then there's a moment where it's all glorious and a bit happy-ish, like "Welcome to this amazing city!", and then it darkens right back up again like, "…that you fucking ruined." So now there's two really big important scenes left for the book side of the story here. Then it will be MOSTLY modern-day where I've been planning to take this story since I got the idea for it. So cheers.
<3 DarqFox
"It's all okay," Magnes said to me, placing a hoof on my shoulder which I promptly shook off.
"You'll be alright," Strong added, his low drawl somewhat soothing.
The song of the thestrals had been sung every night for six nights in a row. I could hear it in the wind, that melody. They'd sing it every single day to remind us it was over. And it began taking a toll on me. I hadn't slept at all for six days, the anxiety keeping me up through the night, and the sunny storms keeping me up in the day. Thunder and lightning spiderwebbed from one cloud to the next, like cracks in glass.
Struck with sudden inspiration, Vinyl set down the book and jumped back to her rolling desk chair. Sound rolled through her mind though it wasn't played yet. She erased the beat she had down earlier, replacing it with a new one. Now… Slow tempo… I think I'll go with something fun… Let's try glitch hop. Plop those notes there… Aaaand playback test... She floated her headphones over again and clicked the play button on the interface of her computer. Starting from the first drop, glorious rough bass assaulted her ears like the thestrals in the book. The melody remained distinct and clear, untouched from its original form. But something felt still missing.
Vocals! the thought popped into her brain. She wanted the same effect of the original melody in her song, and that meant she needed to reproduce is original sound. She wanted there to be, though it was dance music, a sense of solemnity and remorse. The same solemnity that Gray Wing had in his book, no, but similar. But who do I have sing for this? My voice doesn't fit the bill...
She let that thought stew in the back of her mind for a while. In the mean time, she settled for writing out the remainder of the electronic portions, including the intro. Her countermelody, she thought, fit perfectly with the vocal melody, so she built that up before the first drop. She modified the beat for after where she'd put the vocals, then calmed things down for the second drop, which would build up with a repetition of the vocal verse. After writing it all out, she hit the save button, and played it back once more.
Finished with what she could do for now, she got back in bed, and started reading, not noticing the setting sun in her window.
It was my unit's turn to haul a shipment of food to the ponies of Noc'tren, who'd received a shipment five days prior, and was now receiving their next. Many of our medics had been moved to the city square, where they could take care of the ponies suffering most from malnutrition. According to the locals that would talk to us, they'd only managed one ration a day, even for their army. Deep down, everyone knew that though they'd lost the war, they weren't on the wrong side of it.
"I swear, when I get home, first thing I'm doing is getting some tail," Magnes said, huffing as he pulled his cart of foodstuffs in full armor. "Who else is looking forward to that when we get back?"
"Here here," Ice agreed. "I'mma see if I can't find a blue pegasus mare."
"I got a mare back home, that I'm lookin'a marry on'a these days," Strong murmured softly.
"How 'boutchu, Gray? You got a mare like big guy?" Ice asked, looking over to me.
"Nah… I'm fine solo," I said. "Never found a mare that fit my fancy."
"Oooooh, I think I getcha. You like stallions, don'tcha?" Ice pestered. Seeing as he was directly to my right, he stared at me with a "knowing" smirk.
"Never found any of them attractive either," I sighed, irritated by the implication. "But if I was, your ugly mug would scare me right back to mares."
Strong and Magnes winced, staring at Ice intently to see his reaction to the burn he'd been dealt. "Sure it idn't the size of my weapon that'd scare y'off?"
"What weapon?" I countered. He tried to answer several times, opening his mouth, then closing it to think. Within seconds the window for a comeback had closed, and our other squad mates simply laughed heartily. "I'm just yanking your leg, Ice."
"Bitch," he spat.
"Jerk," I retorted without missing a beat.
When we reached Noc'tren, the thestrals were beginning to sing again. I could feel my muscles starting to tense up, and my mane try to stand on end. I could feel my heart skip a beat, and my mouth dry up as though someone had filled it with coffee grounds. Something felt wrong about being here, like malicious eyes were watching me from somewhere I couldn't see. I stopped walking, and as soon as I did, my legs locked in place. I turned to look up at the rooftops, but saw nothing there even though I knew something was.
"Yo, what's the holdup?" Ice asked, stopping as he noticed I had fallen behind. I tried to tell him what I was feeling, but words would not come. My mouth swung open and closed wordlessly, like a ghost-town saloon's doors. I soon began shivering with a cold, haunted breeze that wasn't there.
Strong made his way over to me as soon as he noticed me shivering. Perhaps he knew what I was feeling, perhaps he just knew how to get me moving again, but he gave me a gentle nudge with his shoulder, and I was able to move once more. I was not calm. No, not in the slightest. The only thing the friendly nudge did was unlock my muscles and joints so I could move once more. I still felt the chill in the air, and my mane trying to stand on end. But I was able to move forward and continue the task at hoof, so that was all that really mattered at that point.
We made it to the square, where Celestia had given her speech. I unstrapped myself from the cart of food, glad that I was finally free of the burden. A little bit of my anxiety faded away with my recovered ability to move freely. I still felt the looming shadow of Death nearby, but at least now I was able to run or fight. The ponies stationed in the square to distribute the food thanked us for our delivery, and dismissed us swiftly. So we regrouped and made our way towards the gates.
Once again, I started feeling my body tense up, hairs standing on end and joints locking up, muscles freezing and the sense of dread returning to my stomach. I looked up at the rooftops, and thought I saw the faintest hint of someone ducking behind a wall. I paused, staring at the position. But something else caught my attention. The smell of oil. I smelled it everywhere around me, but couldn't detect where it was.
"Oi. Gray. The hell is up with you today?" Ice barked back at me.
"Something's not right," I warned, feeling my sense of dread growing. "We shouldn't be here."
"Yeah. I know. We should be back home, in a bar, hitting on mares. But we're here, and that's just reality," he dismissed, stepping towards me. He put his hoof on my shoulder in a gesture of reassurance, but the small of oil was near suffocating. Magnes and Strong soon began approaching. A sudden, sharp spike of panic stabbed me as soon as I saw that. I shoved Ice away from me as hard as I could.
"No! Get back!"
[Insert explosion sound here]
I lost my balance soon afterwards, falling forwards and to my left, my leg failing to catch me. I hit the ground hard, the wind being knocked out of my chest by the hard ground. My ears shut down, leaving nothing but a shrill ring behind. Sharp pain shot up my leg and out to the rest of my body. The sensation of burning seared at my left shoulder where Ice had touched me with his oily hoof. I turned and looked over my injuries. A hefty shard of wood was sticking out of both sides of my left forehoof, and my left shoulder was on fire. I calmly patted it out with my right hoof as though it was no big deal.
Once I'd taken care of that, I looked around to assess what else had happened. Thick black smoke filled the air, and there was a ring of fire around us. The buildings we'd been passing by had huge cracks across the walls, charred black from the explosion. The mass of wooden crates was now a scattered mess of flaming wooden shrapnel, scattered around the street. I saw Ice laying on the ground, writhing and screaming in pain, his face hidden from view. Magnes was on the ground, and laying still, but I could tell he was trying to keep from screaming. Strong, on the other hoof, was still standing in a defensive stance, his entire right side charred black. His face was tightly grit with agony, but I could tell he'd managed to save Magnes an immense amount of suffering by taking it upon himself. Blood was everywhere. A pool of it was forming where Ice's face should have been, as there was beneath my leg. A small puddle was forming under Strong's belly, oozing slowly from his burnt side, and dripping down to the stone road below. Magnes was the only one who wasn't severely bleeding at that point, but then again, his hooves were twisted and jerked every-which-way.
Vinyl shuddered at the imagery. Never before had she ever felt queasy, but now she did. She paused for a moment, setting the old book down, and looking up at her ceiling, just breathing. It took her a few minutes to get herself back to normal. "Son of a bitch…" she breathed. "Time for a walk and something to eat."
Author's Note
So this took a while. I'm sorry about that. I was unable to write anything for a long time, and it got bad enough to fuck up my sleep and eating schedule. This felt insanely rusty, so I apologize if it felt that way to you as well. I'm trying to do this story justice.
<3 DarqFox
"Octy! I'm goin' out for a bit!" the DJ hollered from the front door of her apartment.
"And where in Luna's name are you going at this hour?" the cellist called back, stepping out of the kitchen of the apartment with another Pop-Tart. "It's well past eleven."
"I'm going to go see Neon. I need to hear him sing," Vinyl replied. "Save that Pop-Tart for me. You promised me one for letting you cuddle and read with me."
"Don't bring him home, and the pastry is yours," Octavia growled venomously. "You remember last time, right?"
"So he likes you and wants to buy you dinner and maybe make out. The way I see it is it's free food, and a night of fun," Vinyl rebuked Octavia's point. She rolled her eyes beneath her shades before opening the door. "I'll try not to bring him home."
The night streets of Canterlot were near abandoned, the occasional group of university students meandering as they explored for a bar, or the the odd couple walking back home from a night out. The chaotic orchestra of crickets was the loudest sound in the residential areas of the capital that night, even overpowering the hard knocking sounds of hoofsteps on cobblestone streets. But soon, the chirping insects' symphony was overpowered by the low bass of the night clubs' electronic dance music.
Vinyl stopped at an intersection, looking at two clubs across the street that had ponies standing in line outside either one. Remembering that Neon had been banned from the one on the left after starting a brawl, she crossed the street and made her way to the front of the line on the right.
"Oh. Hey Vinyl. I didn't know you were performing here tonight," a burly blue stallion with a dark mane greeted the DJ at the door. "You can head right on in."
"That's because I'm not, and thank you good sir," the alabaster mare replied, giving him a hoof-bump on the way in.
Rough bass assaulted her ears the instant she opened the door to the nightclub. The beat of the music pounded against the air and sent palpable seismic waves through the old wooden floors. The crowd of dancing ponies didn't seem to mind the near-deafening music. Nay, these ponies enjoyed it. They danced in all different manners, influenced by their various personalities and cultures. With the immense energy in the air, and the constant thumping of the beat, Vinyl almost felt right at home. She danced her way through the crowd, knowing that trying to walk through it would get her nowhere fast. The dancing ponies didn't seem to notice nor care who she was. All they really noticed was that the unicorn with the shades had moves and she needed berth for them, so they made way for their fellow dancing pony.
When she made it to the other side of the dance floor, there was a clear shot to the DJ's booth, where a cobalt-blue unicorn stallion with a black spiked mohawk-style mane was working the turntables. She smiled and made her way up to the booth, the other DJ not noticing her presence. She snuck up behind her friend, her smile becoming more mischievous the closer she got. As soon as the song ended, she bit the unsuspecting stallion's ear, earning a surprised half-yelp, at which Vinyl began laughing.
"Bitch."
"Jerk." Vinyl gave the stallion a quick hug, dismissing what most ponies would take as an insult as a display of friendship. "How's it going, Neon?"
The other DJ put another track on so as to keep the crowd from complaining about the lack of music to dance to. As soon as he was free to let the track run without messing with the various switches, dials, and sliders, he turned back and answered, "Oh, just the usual stuff. Playing at clubs mostly, saving up bits from the small gigs to go on tour."
"Same for me. I had a nice show out in Ponyville about a month ago for a fashion show. Not the ideal gig, but it paid a pretty bit." Vinyl cracked her neck out of habit before saying, "I need a favor."
"Name it."
"I need to hear you sing," she blurted quickly.
Neon, after first shifting back a few inches from surprise, raised an eyebrow. "Me? Sing? Who's the poor bastard that pissed you off?" he quipped.
"I'm serious. I need to hear you sing," she repeated, her face becoming more serious and business-like.
"Project?"
"Yup."
"Genre?"
"Glitch hop. One-ten b-p-m."
"Key?"
"A-major."
"Mood?"
"Minor."
"How much singing will I have to do?"
"Two stanzas and some whoas."
The male DJ brought his hoof to his chin as he contemplated the idea. "Shiny. I'll let you hear me sing on the next song. If you end up not liking it, that's fine. If you have completely lost your marbles and end up liking it, we'll discuss a deal for recording," Neon supposed upon gathering the information he needed.
"Sounds like a plan." Vinyl sat down, waiting for the song to end.
A few minutes went by, and the song finally ended, fading down to silence, the noise of the crowd now the dominant sound in the club. "How is everypony tonight‽" the performing DJ hollered at the crowd with the help of a microphone.
The crowd responded with lively cheer.
"Alright, this next one I almost never play because I hate my voice, but I'm gonna play it once for a close friend of mine, Vinyl Scratch!"
The crowd erupted in an uproar of excited cheers as the song began, the first notes giving a sense of longing. The tempo of the music felt far slower than the previous song.
The intro was much like a slow dance when the percussion track entered. The bass was gentle with the slow beat of the drums, until the rhythm changed. But Vinyl wasn't concerned with that. She tuned in to the voice, separating it from every other sound in her ears. "If I could learn to think things through, if I could change my field of view, maybe I'd end up with you…" The vocals fit nicely into the tenor range, which the DJ had been hoping for. The melancholy mood helped her hear in her head what he'd sound like in her song. By the time the drop hit, she'd heard enough to know his voice was perfect.
She stood back up and tapped her fellow music artist on his shoulder. "Your voice is exactly what I'm looking for. Name your price for recording."
"A dinner date with Octavia," he stated firmly.
"You drive a hard bargain. I'm not sure I can convince her to do dinner. I could, at the cost of my left hooves, maybe get you a midmorning coffee," Vinyl haggled, disappointed that it had come to this so quickly.
"Dinner dates are my best suit. Coffee's too casual for me," Neon reasoned.
"We'll be recording at my apartment that Octy and I share. You'd see her on recording days," Vinyl countered.
"True… Eh, I'll take what I can get. You've got a deal." Neon and Vinyl bumped hooves, sealing the deal.
"You remember where I live, right?"
"Of course."
"Great. Show up by ten," Vinyl dictated, patting her friend's shoulder. "See ya then."
Vinyl stepped out of the club after dancing her way through the crowd. She took a deep breath of the cool, fresh air that didn't smell like sweat and booze. She trotted off into the night, back towards her apartment where the crickets were brave enough to chirp. Exhaustion pried her mouth open, allowing a yawn to escape in the pale moonlight. The stars above were clearly visible, even through Vinyl's shades. Their light made the need for streetlights almost null, Luna's moon too shy that night to shine. While she strolled back home from the club, she wondered if the song would be well-received by her fans. This would be the first piece of glitch hop she'd made in a long time, and the last one she made didn't go over well. She'd stuck mostly to dubstep and progressive for the past year or so, just trying to make enough cash to go on tour again. But it did cost her a little bit of her creative freedom, and that was something she didn't want to have to give up. All for the love of my music, I suppose. Let's hope this one goes over as well as Manticores N Stuff.
Author's Note
Sorry this took so long. I got swamped by stuff, and this is a back-burner project, so I only worked on this when I was stuck on other stories. Also, my internet likes to derp after writing a solid amount of stuff. Do you know how hard it is for me to do things with only three open tabs? DIFFICULT. My brain has like, forty tabs open all the time.
<3 DarqFox
