Harmony. It is the greatest ideal of the land of Equestria – and its greatest source of power. After all, what strength can be better than that drawn from all around, working in unison? And this power manifests in many forms – from a humble village working together to feed a nation, to a group of heroes uniting their individual strengths against much greater threats. Harmony is the very lifeblood of Equestrian magic.
It should be no surprise, then, that this magic also reverberates through music. Harmony made art, spreading beauty and joy to all who hear it, and bringing people together for at least one fleeting moment, music has always held an important meaning to the world's inhabitants. And nowhere is this more true than under the waves.
Living deep within the oceans, seaponies are the undisputed masters of musical magic. They see songs in everything, and have an unparalleled gift for sharing them. Beings from all over hope to hear at least one seapony song in their life, to experience a thing of legend. The seaponies themselves, of course, are more than happy to oblige, as sharing their music is the cornerstone of their society. From birth, they are immersed in song, singing along with their homes in never-ending choruses, echoing throughout their cities. And throughout their lives, they strive to grant that gift to the surface, far from their eternal melodies. No one is held in higher regard than one who can bring true happiness with their voice alone – the pinnacle all seaponies strive for. But even if they never gained that level, seaponies all found personal joy taking their gifts to any who would hear them.
And so it was with one small seapony, whose voice – until now drowned out amongst the choruses – was finally going to shine forth. In seapony tradition, a group of children were being taken to a shore, their first moment in the spotlight, and one the little seapony had waited for all her life. It wasn't to be great, become one of the legends; such things were still far from her thoughts. All she wanted was to finally be heard, to finally take part in the sharing. She simply loved to sing, and could thing of nothing better than to truly do so for somepony else.
Her first view of the surface took her breath away. All above her, what looked like another sea floating just out of reach, specked with white foam, and a great orb illuminating everything like the ultimate spotlight. And before her, the sandy ground she had always known gave way to green, further than she could see. But most importantly, all along the shore, amazing creatures of all shapes and sizes had gathered, having traveled from all over to hear the first performance of the children. Already she could feel their excitement and happiness; knowing that in moments, she would take part in giving them even more made her chest swell with pride. Today was the day – she would become a true seapony, and spread music to every corner of the world.
Eager, anticipating what was about to happen, the seapony children quickly lined up. They smiled at each other. Though they were mostly strangers, this moment was shared between them. This was all their voices in one – harmony – and they all knew it was a bond they would always share. The creatures along the shore all grew hushed, watching with shining eyes. One of the adults accompanying the group let out a single note – and on that cue, the children all sang as one.
The little seapony poured all her heart into her voice. As she sang, she finally understood – the feeling of sharing her music, the joy in bringing joy to others. This was what she had waited for all her life. At first she sang to the floating sea above, letting her voice mingle and carry with the others', but soon found her eyes drifting to the shore, to see the happiness she and her new friends were bringing, the harmony reflected in the creatures' eyes....
… Something was wrong. She didn't see any of the things she had expected. The creatures looked... confused. Disappointed, annoyed... even angry. She almost faltered, but she kept singing, desperately trying to find a way to fix this. But she didn't understand what was causing this. She glanced at the rest of her group for a hint... only to find them all looking back at her, with the same eyes as the land creatures'. Somehow, in the middle of the group, she suddenly felt isolated. Still she sang. Scared and desperate, voice cracking, she sang on, as if hoping that would fix it all. Any moment, the harmony she had always dreamed of would begin, and all this – whatever it was – would all be forgotten. And so she kept singing, until one of the adults came up to her, nudging her back under the waves.
Once they were away from the group, the elder seapony drew her close with a sympathetic look. “Adagio,” she said softly, “we need to talk.”
It was perfectly understandable, she was told. As natural as anything. Sometimes, a young seapony simply didn't pick up music as naturally as the rest. It was nothing to be ashamed of. That's what they said, at least. What they did was quietly take her from her home, to a place where the music of the city was a distant melody. There, they told her, they could 'fix this', help her 'catch up' to the other seaponies her age.
Adagio didn't understand. If this wasn't something be be ashamed of, why did they take her away? If there was nothing wrong with her, why did she need to be fixed? All she wanted was to sing. That was what made her truly happy. What was so wrong about her song, that she couldn't have it? No one would ever answer her clearly. All they would say is 'someday'.
“Adagio! Helloooo~? Seas to Adagio!”
Adagio shot upright, eyes wide. A smiling face hovered inches from hers... upside-down. With a sigh, she closed her eyes again. “Hello, Sonata,” she muttered to the pale-blue seapony. Sonata was one of her 'classmates' – another who didn't have that natural inclination for music.
“C'mon, don't go back to sleep!” Sonata cried out, flipping herself back over. “We're gonna be late! Besides, you shouldn't sleep out here anyways! I once slept out in the open, and when I woke up, I was on the back of a manta, like, a full league away!”
Adagio barely repressed a frustrated groan. “I'm not sleeping, I'm -” she started, before sharply cut herself off. Sonata tilted her head in confusion, but Adagio made a point of looking away. There was no way she would admit what she was doing out here. She barely understood why she did it herself, so how could she hope for anyone else to? After all, it only hurt her... coming to this hilltop where the music from her city could be heard the best, reminding her of what she had lost, and what she had never had.
Finally, Sonata spoke up again. “Well, if you're not sleeping, then shouldn't we be going? Our lesson is about to start!” She started nudging the yellow seapony forward. “We can't keep everyone waiting!”
Adagio rolled her eyes with a sigh, finally giving in. Sonata perked up at this, quickly taking a place beside her as they set off, chatting happily about whatever came to her mind. Adagio nodded and grunted at all the right points, but clearly didn't have the same investment in the conversation. Sonata either didn't notice or didn't mind, and Adagio put up with it easily – not only was she used to it, but they didn't have far to go.
Outside a small building nearby – their home and school – Adagio and Sonata joined up with the 'everyone' Sonata had mentioned. “Hi, sorry we're late!” Sonata called cheerfully, waving her fin energetically. “Adagio was taking a nap!” Adagio chose not to comment, but let her glare spoke for her.
An older seapony, a vivid green lady they knew as Miss Alto, smiled cheerfully. She was always cheerful. “It's fine, Adagio,” she said, misunderstanding the look. “A little rest can help. Who knows, maybe it will help you finally get over your little problem!” Adagio's glare deepened at this, though Miss Alto didn't seem to notice. She hated it when her teacher called it that. 'Her little problem'. As if it was no big deal, just a small quirk they'd get over in no time. If she had once believed that, it had been long enough that she barely remembered. Did Alto even take this seriously? Or was she just babysitting the defects?
Miss Alto turned to the rest of the class. “Come on now, Aria, say hello to your friends!” The fourth and last seapony there, Aria glanced over at the two and gave something of a half-wave with a purple fin. Honestly, for Aria, that was practically excited. When she had first come, she had been at least a bit more open, but the longer they were there, the more withdrawn she had become. Sonata still talked to her, of course, and Adagio really couldn't mind being around someone so quiet. Were they actually friends? She probably wouldn't go that far... but the three of them were a group of some kind, certainly. Bound together by a shared goal. Maybe that was enough.
There had been more, once. Never many, but it hadn't always felt so empty. But as others “overcame their setbacks”, the three of them never seemed to find what they were missing. However often they sang their scales, practiced their do re mi's, and shoo-be-doo'd to Miss Alto's guidance, they just didn't click. One of the last things Adagio had heard Aria say was to question if they were seaponies at all. Though she didn't admit it, Adagio sometimes felt the same way – without song, could they even be considered the same thing? If they could, they probably wouldn't have been sent away.
As for the lessons? Adagio despised them, and not just for being a seapony who had to be taught something they were expected to just know. Miss Alto always spoke to them as children. She probably thought she was just being gentle, but to Adagio, it felt like she was being looked down on. Just because she couldn't sing didn't mean she wasn't smart enough to be treated like an adult! Even if being singing-impaired was a disability for seaponies, that alone didn't make her an invalid, and every day she was a little more sick of feeling like one. Still, she grit her teeth and took her lessons. It would all be over once she 'caught up', after all, and that thought kept her going.
Finally, Miss Alto clapped her fins together. “All right, my little tadpoles, we'll stop there for today!” she exclaimed, cheerful as ever. “I think we made some excellent progress today, and I'm sure you'll all be singing with everyone in no time!” Sonata grinned back, but Aria and Adagio didn't give any response. She ended every lesson with that line, after all – and Adagio was pretty sure even Sonata knew better than to believe it at this point. Why she forced herself to stay so optimistic, Adagio could never understand.
As soon as Miss Alto had gone inside, Aria had thrown herself belly down, staring at a chunk of coral with bored eyes. Sonata sidled up beside her, talking happily about what sounded to be her entire day in excruciating detail. Still, Aria could leave if she wanted to, and if she preferred to put up with it, Adagio wasn't going to get involved. Instead, she took this opportunity to slip off on her own again. Not to her hill this time – Sonata had found her there once today already, and after lessons, Adagio wanted to be alone even more than normal. So this time, she swam up.
The others never came here. She understood why – as painful as the hill was, this was worse by far. It wasn't the same shore, of course, but it was close enough. The sky, the sand, the distant green, all reminded her of that day. Sonata had followed her only once. Her reaction – as if every bit of her was screaming heartbreak – had made it obvious that it would never happen again. Adagio understood more than she'd admit, but for being alone, there was no better place to go. And for what Adagio intended to do, being alone was a necessity.
She sang.
'A seapony never sings alone,' Miss Alto always told them. 'Your song isn't for yourself, but for others. To sing for yourself is to sing a selfish song, and that is something no seapony does.' Adagio didn't care. No one else wanted her song. Out here, alone, this is the only place she wasn't judged. No one could look down on her, or scorn her. And whatever problems she may have, she still couldn't let go of singing. If she didn't sing for herself, who could she sing for?
After a time, her voice faded, the off-pitch tune replaced by the rhythm of the waves. For a moment, she simply floated in the tide in silence, staring into the blue sky.
“That was... quite the performance.”
Adagio gasped, twisting around to look at the beach. There, a pony stood, staring back at her. The seapony found she couldn't move, simply staring at him and shaking in terror. She had been heard. Her broken, selfish singing had been heard by another creature. And that creature was...
… Smiling?
Yes, he was smiling, but a strange smile. One without joy, or warmth. But also without pity, or condescension. A smile that went against everything she had known any smile to be. As she watched, confused and mystified, the strange pony knelt down on the sand to look her in the eyes. “My apologies, I didn't mean to startle you. But I was quite surprised myself – I mean, first a lone seapony... and then one that can't even sing?” He gave a short, humorless laugh.
This broke through Adagio's confusion and fear, and she straightened up sharply, glaring into the pony's eyes with all the fury she could muster. “How is that your business?” she snapped harshly. “What would a pony even know about it? You think seaponies are just put here for your enjoyment? Little things you can gawk at whenever it's convenient for you! So long as we sing for your whims, to your standards, what else do you even care about us, right?! Well, if that's all you want, you'll have to find it somewhere else, so - so flip off!”
Of all the reactions to her rant she could have expected, what the pony gave her was something else entirely. He grinned. Not a strangely empty one like before, but... with something like pleasure, but still sending shivers down her fin. And did she imagine it, or was that a fang? “An excellent response,” he said, nodding. “Yes, I like you, seapony. Not something I thought I'd say to one of your kind,” he added with a chuckle. “What do you say I thank you with a small... gift?”
“A... gift,” Adagio repeated suspiciously. “What kind of gift...?”
The pony's grin deepened. “Why, the only one you've ever wanted.”
“... And then he just gave you these gems?” Sonata asked, poking at one.
Adagio nodded. After her encounter with the strange pony, she had come straight back and told the whole story to her classmates. The three of them, in a secluded reef, sat around three red jewels, the gift the pony had given her.
Sonata looked confused. “I... I mean, they're nice and all, but the only gift you've ever wanted is... rubies? Really?”
Adagio shot her a withering look. “Of course not! You don't understand yet? It's the same for you, right? What's the one thing you want more than anything?”
Sonata tapped her chin, thinking hard, while Adagio worked very hard not to bury her face in her fins. She was suddenly spared from her struggle by an unexpected source, as Aria said her first words in weeks.
“To sing.”
Adagio grinned and nodded, while Sonata looked over in surprise. “Huh? But they're just crystals. How are they supposed to help us sing?”
“They're magic,” she explained excitedly. “The pony said that if we wear them, they'll bring our voices into harmony, and let us sing more beautifully than any other seapony ever could. Voices that will make everyone love us!” She leaned forward, looking between the two. “Don't you see? This is our chance! With these, we're not just the – the rejects, the worthless. We'll be the greatest singers of any seapony – of anyone, anywhere! This is our chance to really be something!”
As she spoke, Sonata's face slowly broke out in an eager grin, and even Aria was smiling down at the gems – their salvation. Adagio watched them, before drawing in a breath. “There is... one thing I didn't mention, though.”
Her companions looked up at her in confusion, and she continued. “The pony said... he said that love can't come from nothing. In order for the enchantment to work, we have to keep it charged – off of other peoples' love. By... by using the magic to turn others against each other, the love they felt for each other will spill out and away, and the gems will absorb it, keeping the enchantment strong.”
“So, like... make people hate each other, so they love us...?” Sonata summarized, looking at the gems with more apprehension. “Do we... can we do that? I mean, should we?”
Adagio said nothing. It was a question she was grappling with herself. She had hoped by bringing them to the others, they would have an answer, but it seemed like they were just as conflicted.
Aria lifted one of the gems, looking deep into it, as if the answer would be hidden inside. Finally, she said, “We have to try, don't we?”
Adagio smiled, and looked over at Sonata, who still seemed uncertain. “... When I asked him for three, he said that if he did that, they would only work if they were all together,” she said softly. “If you don't want to... I suppose it's back to lessons.”
Sonata's head snapped up with a strength that surprised Adagio. Of the three of them, she had always thought Sonata had put the most stock in the lessons, but the look on her face showed a feeling of dread for them that even Adagio couldn't match. “I... we'll try, then,” she all but whispered. “If we don't like it – if it gets too... wrong, we stop right away, though, right?”
“Of course,” Adagio assured her, with Aria nodding her own agreement. Each of them scooped up one of the gems, and even through the uncertainty, Adagio couldn't help but smile at hers. With these... the three of them would never be unloved again. This world... was going to adore them.
Author's Note
Woo Dazzlings and stuff.
"Wow, TK, you sure were vague on that pony, weren't you?"
Oh, very. Just, like, two or three hints as to who it might be, and even then some openness in interpretation. At first I basically spelled out exactly what was going on, but man did I not like that. I much prefer it vague. Fill in the blanks as you wish, internet ghosts.
"Is this all of the story?"
At the moment. I mean, I might continue it, I've got a couple more thoughts that could continue it, but at the moment it's not enough to make another chapter out of. If there's interest and I can flesh that out enough, I'll see about making some more.
"Did anyone actually ask these questions?"
Shut up.
