Chapter One: OvertureView OnlineA Not-So-Brief InterludeChapter One: OvertureLudwig van Beethooven merrily trotted up the elegant marble stairs leading to the gates of the Crystal Palace. As a high class piano player-no, the high class piano player- Ludwig enjoyed many privileges. Foremost in his mind currently was that nobody expected him to lug a grand piano to a performance, instead carrying a slim folder containing the sheet music for the Canterlot Quartet. Reaching the top of the wide staircase, his gaze was dragged upwards. Although he was used to luxurious buildings, living in one himself, he was always struck dumb by the sheer beauty of the Equestrian palaces. Tracing the gentle curves of buttresses and alighting upon sharp peaks with wide eyes, the tan earth pony allowed a dribble of moisture to escape his gaping jaw unheeded. Jerked out of a dream of spires and columns by a loud groaning noise, he turned sharply to see the angry glares of the overburdened Canterlot Quartet. Muttering a quick excuse and apology, he slipped under the harp case of Parish Nandermane, sharing the weight of the heavy instrument. While Octavia Melody and Beauty Brass struggled up the last few stairs, the two stallions staggered through the enormous double doors. A large room, lit by a single torch, awaited them. The light was reflected around the room by the jagged crystals, creating a stupefying effect. This was lost on Parish, as he dragged the amazed Ludwig forwards. “C’mon, Ludwig, you may be full of energy, but we sure as hay aren’t!” Parish scolded. Grunts of assent followed from Octavia and Beauty, who had caught up to the duo. Hanging his head, Ludwig hoisted the harp higher on his withers and plodded on. The crystal floor beneath his feet passed steadily, until at last they had reached their suites. Four polished doors on opposite sides of the polished hall, two tinged blue, the others purple, were the Quartet's separate rooms. The precious instruments were pulled through the individual doorways as carefully as possible, and made it into the rooms of their owners without a scratch. Once inside the sumptuous rooms, however, they were shoved into closets, among battered suitcases of formal attire, which had been previously delivered. Ludwig, however, noticed none of this, partly because he had no instrument to guide through the doorway, and partly because his attention was fixed on the high, vaulted ceiling. Although not very wide, the room was ten times taller than he was. He circled the room, acting like a foal that had just gotten his cutie mark. The shining crystals were shaped into spirals and carved out to form alcoves, many of which held small, delicate sculptures. The main room, containing a sofa, bookcase, and bed, led to a tiny kitchen and even tinier bathroom, altogether had the most beautiful architecture Ludwig had ever seen. A loud clicking sound from outside of the glittering door broke the spell. Ludwig sighed. Couldn’t a pony get any peace? All he wanted to do was lie in the tub and fantasize about meeting the architect who designed this place. Oh, well. Picking up his polished hooves, he made his way to the door and drew it open. A graceful crystal mare waited outside. “Um...Hello, miss”, Ludwig said. The mare dropped a curtsy, and then presented a tray holding a tea set, made of thin crystal. “Princess Cadence and Shining Armor are looking forward to your performance tomorrow...very much.” The mare whispered furtively, glancing around the corridor. “Er...thank you?” Ludwig stammered in confusion. Why was this such a big deal? It was hardly surprising that royalty was looking forwards to a performance by the Canterlot Quartet. Rolling her eyes, the mare whispered, more forcefully, “I hear that they are expecting it to be very exciting.” Ludwig could only stare bemusedly at the mare. Her cutie mark, he noticed, was a green jeweled rose bud. Sighing in exasperation, the mare glared at him, then flounced away, leaving the tea. Ludwig looked down, shrugged, and picked the tray up. He was hungry, after all, and there were some tasty looking cucumber and violet sandwiches on that tray. Setting the tray down on a table, he glanced through a window. The sun was still high, and it looked like about three thirty. The perfect time for a snack. Leaning over to grab a sandwich, he was interrupted by a hard knocking at his door. He sat back, and glared at the wall. He stayed there for some time, the shadows lengthening, until the tea had cooled and the knocking finally stopped. Nodding in satisfaction, he nibbled at a sandwich peacefully. WHAM! Ludwig jumped. He had only taken a few bites, before something else had interrupted his mini feast. Stomping his hooves, he again went to the door—only to see that he no longer had a door. Poking his head through the hole in the wall, he could see the tea mare’s hindquarters disappearing around a corner, adorned with the shreds of what has once been his door. Groaning in exasperation, Ludwig gave up on his snack, calling a repairpony to fix the door on his way to bed.
Chapter Two: AndanteView OnlineA Not-So-Brief InterludeChapter Two: AndanteBeauty Brass opened a pair of crusted, drooping eyes. She had stayed up far too late last night, switching between scarfing down delicate salads and practicing her beloved sousaphone. She could fuzzily remember some daisy juice in there somewhere... Groaning, she hauled her bedraggled body out of the lovely, warm bed. At least there was no alarm clock going off. Drawing herself up, she stumbled across the gleaming floor. The sound of her hooves clacking on the polished crystal increased the slight migraine that had been slowly growing. With any luck, it would go away in time for the concert that night. Entering the suite's kitchen, she leaned against the counter, muttering curses and softly swearing. Lettuce and flowers littered the floor, as a suspicious, cloudy liquid oozed across the table, accompanied by a few white petals and bent stems. A tower of dishes threatened to spill over the edges of the tiny sink, barely able to contain the mass of dirty salad plates. She groaned, and gingerly grasped a crumpled dishcloth with her teeth. No matter how terrible the turquoise mare felt, this was a matter of personal pride. No Brass worth their instrument would leave a mess such as this (at least, in a place that was not theirs). As Beauty Brass swept, dusted, and washed, the thin slices of pale sunlight penetrating the high windows expanded, bathing the crystalline chambers in exquisite beams of light. This, however, was lost on the exhausted mare, her pretty hooves growing weary from scrubbing the kitchen surfaces. Only when the kitchen was sparkling did she allow herself to rest. It was about noon, and the performance started at nine. Precious little time was left to practice the arrangements the Canterlot Quartet had spent months perfecting. She only hoped that the others had been more productive than she. Trotting briskly into the bathroom, she did her best to ignore the tempting bed, the covers still rumpled. She was tired, but needed to get ready. She had to live up to her name; she always had to be Beauty. Peering at herself in the mirror, she arranged her mousy brown mane, brushed her bright blue coat, and tied her pale magenta bowtie carefully around her neck. Checking that her bass clef cutie mark was clean, she tossed her head, and sashayed out of the bathroom. Gently closing the door to her chambers behind her, she walked to Octavia's suite. "Octavia!" she sang, knocking on the carved slab of crystal acting as a door. There was a muted squeak inside, followed by a furious rustling. "Octavia?" "Um...one second…I'm not quite ready yet…" Octavia murmured sleepily. Rolling her eyes, Beauty Brass smiled. Octavia Melody: the only pony she knew that could sleep for fourteen hours. Musing on the luckiness of some ponies, her eyelids drooped, ever so slightly. “Aaaah! Hey!” Rudely jolted out of a dream, Beauty rubbed her now painful back. Octavia, a delicate gray mare, stood in the open doorway smiling pleasantly. However, when she caught sight of Beauty’s expression, her own changed dramatically. “Erm...sorry, Brass. Are you okay?” The equine cellist stammered. They were close friends, and tried to avoid causing grievances, major or minor. She was unsure of where opening a door stood, but didn’t want to take chances. I’ll be fine. It’s not as if my instrument hangs off of my back or anything!” Beauty shot back. Taken aback, Octavia froze, then tossed her glossy mane and strutted down the hall, calling over her shoulder, “We should really begin practicing, although let’s be realistic…She halted, and shot a piercing glare back. “It’s not as if that will help your honking tuba.” Forgetting her pain, Beauty scrambled to her feet, a retort already gathering. With her mouth half open, ready to deliver a stinging comeback about a certain somepony’s prowess at breaking cello strings, she suddenly stopped. Octavia’s lilac eyes danced with badly hidden laughter. Rolling her eyes, Beauty cantered up to her friend. “Actually, the practicing sounds like a good idea. How about you grab the instruments and I’ll find the others?” she said. Considering the proposition, Octavia gazed at her for a second, then nodded and trotted back down the hall. Beauty Brass had her work cut out for her. The other two rooms were empty, and the Crystal Castle was huge! Ludwig and Parish could be anywhere! She had one way of narrowing it down. She had to consider their work ethic over grabbing a bite to eat. Suddenly sitting, she raised a hoof to her muzzle and thought. ...still thinking… …still thinking… …still thinking… …Right! She had it! They would have gone to practice. The two stallions, although often hungry, regarded performances as the only thing in life. The day of a concert would doubtless see them practicing nonstop. Octavia came up behind her, dragging two heavy instrument cases. Handing the smaller to Beauty, she asked, “To the practice room?” Beauty replied in the affirmative. The two musicians strode down the wide corridors, making their way to the room designated for their practicing; a room with perfect acoustics, designed to make the sound as big and beautiful as possible. Reaching the wide, two-toned double doors of the Crystal Castle Staff Room, the two mares set down their large cases and pulled the doors open. Walking through the broad opening, they marveled at the tremendous amount of coffee machines cluttering the large room. The ponies here were on duty at all hours, it seemed. A strain of music reached their sensitive ears. It sounded…off. Of course. It was missing two instruments, both carrying a crucial part of the melody. The ponies began unpacking their prized instruments, surreptitiously shining each part with a bowtie or strand of hair. The doors swung shut behind them, but not before a crystal pony with a viridian blossom on a spotless white flank slipped inside, unheeded by the members of the quartet. Octavia and Beauty began warming up, as Parish and Ludwig took a short break. Ludwig was in the middle of telling an interesting story, “…And then the Princess, Princess Twilight, you know, the one who crashed the Gala-Oh, hello, early birds!” He snorted. “Got tired of sleeping, did you?” He glanced at Parish, and then as if on cue both burst into uproarious laughter. Strutting into place, the mares sneered at the ponies falling off of their stools. “At least we didn’t waste our time breaking down doors and making bad puns!” Octavia snapped. The laughter dried up. “You heard that, did you? Ponyfeathers. I was hoping no one would notice.” Ludwig said glumly, sliding back into his seat and plunking a melancholy chord. “Was that what it was? Oh, Ludwig! Do tell!” Beauty said with a teasing air. “All right, all right, don’t get into a fuss. I, indeed, ‘will tell’.” And with that brief introduction, Ludwig launched into a confusing and mysterious tale. The others, instruments forgotten, leaned in to listen. “… And so, a pony came up and repaired my door. I must say, though, that in my opinion, the color should have been different. Ruby doors with sapphire walls!” He sniffed haughtily. “Now, to practicing?...” The question was left hanging in the air as the other ponies speculated wildly about the meaning behind the mystery. Octavia had the best idea: “Why don’t we just find this pony? You know, the one who gave Ludwig the tea.” And with that said, they began a search of the castle.
Chapter Three: AllegroView OnlineA Not-So-Brief InterludeChapter Three: AllegroA bow was gently drawn across the strings of a graceful cello, as the ivory keys of a piano were pressed with a sense of reverence. A soft sequence of melodious notes drifted from a gilded harp, while a deep breath was taken. The bow skidded, and a quick curse burst from a gray mare’s lips. “Octavia, really!” The pianist’s reprimand was underscored by a harsh chord, leaping out of the keys that had not long ago produced an air to melt the hardest heart. “Oh, hush. You’ve said worse when you skip notes.” Octavia retorted. “Stop it. Both of you.” The harpist, standing up, towered over the squabbling musicians. Directing a steady glare at the bickering pair, he sat down again slowly. “Now, from the third movement…” The bow was once again drawn across the strings, as the bipolar keys turned back to the beautiful melody. Strings housed in a glorious harp relinquished a song to rival that of any swan, and moistened lips were placed upon the mouthpiece of a gleaming sousaphone. The doors flew out of their hinges with a resounding crack, interrupting the quartet once again. “What now?!” Ludwig screamed, as a group of crystal ponies quietly trotted into the room. “Try knocking! Try yelling! Try anything but beating the door down! Don’t you know that we have a performance in two hours? Don’t you know how tired we are? What in Equestria are you doing here?!” A crystal stallion stepped up. Brawny, tall, and irritated, he was obviously the one who bucked the doors down. “We tried knocking, and yelling, and banging on drums, and everything short of letting Discord loose. You musicians are so wrapped up in ‘practice’, that you didn’t get the news.” Beauty Brass stepped out of her sousaphone. “What news?” She asked mildly. “The news that your performance is postponed.” “What.” Octavia stated, apparently calm. The stallion rolled his eyes. “Due to a…situation, the auditorium is occupied. “Situation? Like, a Changeling invasion and everybody’s hiding in the theater situation, or like the weather’s too bad for a show and the theater roof is leaking situation?” Octavia probed. “Like, a confidential situation. It’s personal to the Princess.” He replied, copying the form of her inquiry. “Great. Thanks. You’ve been oh so helpful”, Octavia said, drenching the room in sarcasm. The stallion nodded his head, ignoring the mare’s snarky words, and walked out with the group of ponies. “Well… I guess we’re done for tonight.” Beauty said with a sigh. She and the others began packing up their instruments. The cream curtains, hung around the walls to reduce the echo, parted. A white head peeped out. Sea-colored eyes scanned the room, taking in the annoyed musicians, the now empty coffee machines, the sheet music scattered about, and the sense of confusion pervading the scene. Nopony noticed her. Nopony saw her glide across the room, tidy up the floor, trail her hooves across the instruments, and walk through the doorway. Nopony needed to. To the usual inhabitants of the room, Viridian Blossom was a welcome sight. ----------)|(---------- Octavia’s hooves, normally clicking across floors, full of energy, now dragged against the crystal floor, producing a sound more akin to a broom swishing over a floor than the hooves of a noblepony. Her head drooping, she meandered through the castle, only vaguely knowing her destination. As tired as she was, she didn’t want to retire to her rooms yet. Her mind was full of tumbling, twisting, turbulent thoughts, about the performance, about the ‘situation’, about the tea mare and the unsuccessful search earlier, about anything and everything. She hardly realized that her hooves had stopped propelling forward, stuck as she was in a corner. Do you need help, miss?” A bright voice pierced through the swirling thoughts of the gray mare. “Hm? Oh, yes, that would be lovely. I’m with the…Quartet…”Her voice trailed off. Standing in front of her was Ludwig’s mysterious pony, the tea mare with the secrets. “Excuse me? Miss, are you okay?” the crystal mare asked, her voice filled with concern. “Miss, I think you should go to bed.” “Oh yes! Bed! What a lovely idea…You know, I could swear I know you.” Octavia was determined to figure out this mare and the secret, no matter what. “Oh, I’m Viridian Blossom. You’ve probably seen me working around the castle, although I mostly take care of the plants.” “Plants? What plants?” Octavia mumbled as Viridian Blossom bean guiding her back to her suite. “The crystal plants. Crystal ponies help crystals grow, and some can make them grow like flowers. Some just in the shape, but the really skilled ones can make them bear fruit, and seeds, and things like that.” The explanation left Octavia drowsily nodding her head. “Oh…here we are, um, Viridian. Thanks for the help…”The short sentences left Octavia breathless, and the second the door closed, she collapsed in a heap. The cool floor would suffice for a mattress tonight.
Chapter Four: AccelerandoView OnlineA Not-So-Brief InterludeChapter Four: AccelerandoParish Nandermane was not in a good mood. Not only was his performance canceled (well, postponed. But it might as well be canceled!), but his rooms had not been cleaned, his harp was dreadfully out of tune, and he noticed his first gray hair. He had then broken the thin sheet of crystal used as a mirror, used the shards to pluck his harp, broken a harp string, and was currently trashing his rooms looking for his spare strings. Piles of sheet music flew across the room, as the harpist feverishly searched the place. He knew he had spares, he knew he had them somewhere, but he didn't know where exactly the spares were located. “Ponyfeathers! Ponyfeathers and horseapples and hay- oh.” Pulling out a random drawer, he had found the strings. Now, to get them on… Parish took a deep breath. Harps had to be strung gently, calmly, and carefully. The one time he had tried to put them on while angry sent the harp to be repaired and Parish to the hospital with strings stuck in some very unsavory places. Clearing off a section of the floor, he reverently placed the harp on the crystal ground. Frowning in concentration, he slowly unwound the damaged string with a pair of tweezers he had designed himself. Pulling the coiled wire away, he kept the frame harp steady with the other hoof. There. The top bit of the string was off. Now, the bottom. Just as he was bending down to repeat the process at the other end of the harp, a gentle rap sounded at his door. “I’m beginning to see why Ludwig was so annoyed earlier”, he muttered. “It is the worst to be interrupted-“ WHAM. That sounded more like a buck. Parish hurriedly leapt up and ran to the door, eager to prevent any damage. He was greeted by the sight of a long, dark gray tail, and a pair of lighter gray hind legs, which were rising to meet his face. ---------------)|(--------------- “Oh my stars, are you okay? I’m so sorry, I meant to hit the door but you were in the way and I was already bucking and I didn’t see and you opened the door and then I bucked you and you fell and you weren't saying anything and-“ An indigo hoof stopped Octavia’s babbling. “I am fine, Octavia. I do have a slight headache, but I feel quite well otherwise.” Octavia nodded, wide-eyed. Parish took his hoof away from her muzzle. Just his luck; get a performance canceled, break a string, and get knocked out by a cello player. Lovely. “Octavia…”he began. “Octavia, why were you bucking my door down?” It seemed a fair question to him. Surely ponies didn’t knock down doors for no good reason. Octavia blushed. “Well…I sort of got the wrong room…” she said, avoiding his curious gaze. “ You mean you were looking for your room?” he inquired. “Not…not as such, no. Here, drink this. It should help with the headache.” She handed him a steaming cup of tea. “Then why?” he said, sipping the tea. “I was looking for Ludwig’s room”, the earth pony admitted. Parish coughed in surprise, spewing tea everywhere. “Let’s try that again, shall we?” Octavia said, wiping the last of the tea off of her bowtie. “I was looking for Ludwig’s room, because I wanted to talk to him about that tea mare.” Parish raised an eyebrow. “Honestly! I was! I met her, and I wanted to tell Ludwig.” Octavia protested. “All right, but why didn’t you want to tell me?” “Because Ludwig was the one who encountered her first.” Octavia said defensively. “Well, while you may have meant to knock down Ludwig’s door-which, by the way, has already been broken-you attempted to knock down mine. I demand to know what was so important about the tea mare that you were willing to wreck an innocent, defenseless door.” Parish spoke in a clear, authoritative voice. He had not spent his career around flibberty-gibbet ponies in power without learning a few tricks. He could command ponies almost as well as the Captain of the Royal Guard himself. Octavia stood there, with her mouth slightly open, staring in shock. She hadn’t expected Parish to recover from a buck to the head so quickly. “Okay…Well, here goes. In a nutshell, the mare is named Viridian Blossom, possibly knows why the concert was postponed, and grows crystal flowers. Enough?” she said. “What makes you think she knows why the concert was postponed?” he asked. She shrugged. “She seems like she would know.” “Not a good reason.” “Well, maybe you should try getting an answer out of her.” While half-asleep and lost, she added in her head. “Maybe I will. Come, Octavia. We’re going to find Viridian Blossom.” Nudging the door open, he stepped out into the hallway. Octavia groaned, but began to follow. “Now, where would a mare who works with plants and helps out around the palace be?” “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe the worker’s rooms?” Octavia snarkily replied. Oblivious to the sarcasm lacing her tone, Parish nodded, and took off at a brisk trot. “Wait!” Octavia called down the corridor, cantering to catch up. “Do you even know where they are? Couldn’t we just ask a servant for directions?” “I’m sure we’ll be able to find them on our own!” he merrily replied. “Okay…I guess… but Parish!” she yelled, falling behind. “What?” Parish suddenly stopped and turned around. “Um… what will we do when we find the workers’ rooms?” she panted after him. “Hm. Good question. I have no idea! Now hurry up!” Finally catching up, Octavia took a moment to catch her breath before continuing the conversation. “Parish, are you sure you’re feeling okay? You’ve been uncommonly snappish, strangely bubbly, and have seemingly endless energy at the end of a very long day.” “Octavia, I assure you, I am fine. I’m just not quite myself at the moment.” Octavia raised an eyebrow. Parish’s head drooped. “Okay, I have a massive headache and don’t really care what I’m doing. Happy?” he grumbled. “Let’s leave it at ‘satisfied’. Now, go back to your room and rest. I am the only pony allowed to act differently when freaking out.” Octavia said, seemingly stern. “All right, Mother. We can leave the staff room search for later.” “Good. Now, off you go.” Octavia watched him go as he made his way back to his rooms. It would be easier to find Viridian Blossom without an extra pony that may have had a slight concussion. Hopefully. She began the trek to the staff break room, the only place where the workers gathered that she had been too. Maybe there was free coffee. You never knew. And besides, that would be the place to find a mare on the staff. A few minutes later, the sound of approaching hooves distracted her from her thoughts. “Octavia, it would be better to search together, even if I do have a headache. It really would. We can ask more ponies.” It was Parish. Of course. “I agree with him. We, as a quartet, should know this. And we should learn it together,” said Beauty Brass. He had brought the rest of the quartet. Fabulous. ---------------)|(--------------- The sun was setting, and the Canterlot Quartet had found no trace of Viridian Blossom. They still had no idea when the concert was, or why exactly it had been postponed. All they knew was that they were bone tired and very grouchy. “Parish, do you think you could at least try not to stomp everywhere?” Beauty Brass complained. “Yeah, I thought harpists were supposed to have light, sensitive hooves, not great clunky things!” Octavia added Ludwig groaned. "Why don't we just go to bed and forget about this?" The three other musicians shouted in unison, "Because we need to know why the performance was postponed!" "Fine. But can we not bicker constantly while doing so?" "We aren't bickering!" They were so busy arguing about not arguing that they almost missed the deep green tail whisking around a pillar. "There she is!" "Let's go!" "But-" Ludwig, the sole voice of reason, was left behind as the others chased after the crystal mare. And thus, an odd chain of events began. First: the group began slipping on the slick crystal. "Parish! Slow down!" "I'm trying! Why don't you speed up!" "We're already flailing! Why can't you-AAAAHHH!" Second: the group began slamming into the pillars. "Ow!" "Hey!" "Watch out for tha-oof!" Third: the group hit a particularly unstable pillar. "Pillar on the left!" "Got it!" "Pillar on the right!" "Got it!" "Pillar straight ahead!" "Got-wait what?" "AAAAAHH!" Fourth: the pillar cracked. "There are crystal shards everywhere!" "I know!" "Octavia! You're bleeding!" "I know!" "You're about to run over a piece of--" "Owwwww...I didn't know..." Fifth: Viridian Blossom was quite unfortunate. "Parish! There she is!" "I see her! Come on!" A large piece of crystal flew overhead, gently arcing over the frenetic ponies and outracing their efforts to make it across the floor. It descended gracefully, almost floating. Viridian Blossom was sprinting away from Parish, Octavia, and Beauty in the same pathway as the crystal. Ludwig began to cringe, hiding his face from the inevitable collision. THUD A shrill cry of pain came from the crystal mare as the shard struck her flank. She fell, sliding across the shining floor. The Quartet flinched as one. "Oh Celestia..." Octavia whispered. Ludwig, the only undamaged member of the Canterlot Quartet, picked his way through the crystal debris to the fallen pony. "Miss? Miss, are you okay?" he asked. Her eyes opened, and the musicians sighed in relief. "How stupid are you?" she spat. "Excuse me?" Ludwig said, taken aback. "If you wanted my attention, you could've called my name. You didn't have to wreck half the pillars in the castle!" "Well, that's just exaggerating." Beauty called. Viridian Blossom glared at them and struggled to her hooves. "I have a very tight schedule already because of the disaster in the theater, and now I'll have to try and regrow these pillars!" "D-did you say regrow?" Parish stuttered, half-dazed from a chunk of crystal to the head. "Yes! I was in charge of growing decorations for the concert at first, but then some janitor tripped and broke all of my hard work. I've been frantically regrowing those already, and now I'll need to regrow these pillars on top of that!" "Viridian-may I call you Viridian?- we are deeply sorry for the extra work we've caused you, but could you please explain what work it is?" Ludwig asked politely. "I grow crystals. Some are in the shape of plants, while others are furniture or structures. I thought I made that obvious,"she said. "And... you grew them as decorations for the concert?" he inquired. "Yes! Everypony in the Palace was excited to see them. But then..." A tinge of sadness entered her angry voice. "Somepony tripped, you said?" "Yes. A clumsy janitor tripped over the crystals I was growing to amplify the music, which were sprouting from the main decorations. He pulled everything down, and I've had to start all over." Viridian explained. "I've been rushing around the Palace all day, trying to quickly grow the crystals. If I had been able to work uninterrupted, I would have had it done by the end of the week. But now that you've broken the pillar, it'll take much longer. The structural stability of the Palace is more important than some old music." "Some old music? Some old music?! As if! We were to perform the great work of the renowned-" Beauty nudged Octavia mid-rant. She coughed. "Pardon me. Go on." "As I was saying, I'll have to fix the pillar before the auditorium. It'll take another week, at least." Viridian finished. "Excuse me, but I'm still a bit confused. Why all the stuff about Princess Cadance being very excited when we first met? And why did you knock down my door?" Ludwig demanded. Viridian shrugged. "Princess Cadance really was excited. She told me to let you know." "I suppose that does make sense." Ludwig conceded. "But what about his door?" Octavia interjected. "Oh, I am dreadfully sorry about that. I was playing tag with the foals of a few servants, and the floors were slippery. Your door was knocked down just like the pillar was shattered." Viridian said. "I rushed off to go let the repairpony know." "But..why not repair it yourself? You seem like the pony who repairs everything." Ludwig asked. "I grow the base materials. If it needs a fine touch, or can't be taken out to be fixed, it's my job. But otherwise, it's not my responsibility." she said. "Well, now that everything is cleared up, can we go get medical help?" Octavia pleaded. "I don't think having shards of crystal embedded in oneself is healthy." ---------------)|(--------------- Two Weeks Later The pillar had been regrown. The Quartet had each piece perfected and ready to perform. The acoustically beneficial decorations looked beautiful. The mystery of the tea mare had been cleared up. The Crystal Palace's theater was packed with ponies waiting to hear the Canterlot Quartet. Backstage, the Quartet was tuning up in preparation for their performance. "Well, even though this concert has been delayed horribly, at least we are definitely ready." Octavia remarked. "It was miraculous how everything came together after everything broke, wasn't it?" said Beauty. "It was almost an interlude, wasn't it?" Ludwig said. "Interludes are brief pieces of music. These past two weeks have been drawn out hard work. How exactly are they the same?" Parish retorted. "Interludes can be chaotic. And even though they aren't normally the main attraction, they still need to be perfect. That takes work too, doesn't it?" Ludwig replied. "Well, however you compare it, it certainly wasn't very brief, was it?"
