That needs to be more like a circle. No, wait. That's not right. Snakes should have triangular heads. But circles are more fun. Needs more circles. Wait. Fire. The snake's on fire. Or is it a pig? Is the pig on fire? Or is the snake the pig? Wasn't it supposed to be in a pond? Why is there a gazebo there? Is it supposed to have teeth?
Sonata crumpled up the paper she had been doodling on and hurled it into the corner, adding to the swiftly growing pile of attempted drawings she had rejected due to lack of focus. She glanced over at her clock, hoping that she had at least killed some time.
Less than fifteen minutes had passed. There were still a few hours left in the morning.
With the utmost care, Sonata picked up one of her pillows and placed it in front of her, where she assumed a kneeling position, her eyes closed as if in deep thought. She took a few moments to prepare herself mentally and physically, as what she was about to do next required a great deal of concentration.
She then struck the pillow with her forehead. Repeatedly.
When she was done, she flopped down on her bed, staring up at the ceiling with an exasperated groan. She managed to hold still for all of three seconds before she bounced back up and started prowling her room, looking for something, anything that could satisfy her need for excitement.
She admired her fish tank. She did a backflip. She lost a staring contest with a plush squid. She ate a cookie. She drank a liter of coffee. She rearranged her furniture until it was exactly the way it had been before.
A whole ten minutes passed before she found herself once again staring at the ceiling, hating her miserable existence with every fiber of her being.
So. Very. Bored!
As Sonata lay there on her bed, she thought back to how she had ended up in that unspeakably awful predicament.
Both of her sisters, whom she would normally have pestered until they gave her something to amuse herself with, were effectively absent. Adagio had driven off the day before with no explanation of where she was going, only an estimation of when she would be back. Since the estimated time had been in the late afternoon the day before, she might be a while. So Adagio wasn't around. As for Aria, she had seized the rare opportunity to shut herself off from the outside world completely, only occasionally shambling out of her room when her rapidly dwindling supplies of highly caffeinated beverages were intolerably low. The few times Sonata had made contact with her, she had barely been able to speak without every third word being an expletive of some sort. Sonata had wisely left her to sulk about in peace.
It wasn't that Sonata was upset by their behavior; they just needed a little time to themselves, that's all. But couldn't they at least coordinate their bouts of antisocial behavior so as not to overlap? Doing otherwise was terribly inconsiderate of them.
In short, Sonata was alone, trapped in a desolate world of never-ending torture with herself as the sole inhabitant. The torrential downpour outside formed a nigh-impenetrable barrier around her. As much as she enjoyed the water, she greatly preferred it to be all around her, not obnoxiously drumming on her head. Thus, she was confined to the indoors, stuck with staring at the walls until they seemed to send a mocking stare right back at her.
After a few minutes of wallowing in the pure agony that was her wretched existence, Sonata forced herself to stand. Maybe I missed something downstairs, she thought as she trudged through the door and down the hall.
Her boredom must have inadvertently heightened her senses, because she noted something she would have otherwise ignored.
Adagio had left her door cracked open. That alone was hardly worth worrying about; Sonata had been in Adagio’s room many times, and had found it to be thoroughly unappealing. Too many books and mirrors. Too many lavish decorations flaunting their nearly limitless wealth. Not enough... fun. Adagio was not a very fun person, and her room reflected that.
It was not merely the thought of entering Adagio's room that had piqued her interest. The crack was just wide enough to see a desk inside. Resting on the desk was a book. A plain, totally nondescript black book. It was a book that Sonata had seen before. She wasn't quite sure when it had first made an appearance, as it was initially a rare sight, but it wasn't long before Adagio spent hours pouring over it with pen in hand, seemingly defaulting to writing in it if she had nothing better to do. Every time Aria or Sonata had approached her about it, they had received no response save for a silent, malevolent glare that promised a slow, painful demise if they did not drop the subject. They had eventually accepted that the risks far outweighed any potential gains, and did their best to forget about it. Sonata hardly ever noticed it anymore.
A mischievous smile spread across her face as she slowly tip-toed across the carpet to the table.
She picked up the book, scrutinizing it closely. It was quite odd, now that she got a closer look at it. It was... ugly. Yes, that was what it was. A worn, battered blot marring the surface of an otherwise colorful, pristine environment. It bore no decorations, nothing to try and make it blend in a little better. It didn't even have a title, throwing away a possibility for at least a tiny scrap of bedazzlement.
The peculiarity of it made her pause. If it were just another piece of the room she would not hesitate to filch it, but the book was the type of thing that Adagio normally despised. Since she had kept it around for so long, it must have held great value for her.
Should I really be doing this? Sonata thought, biting her lip as a sense of unease washed over her. Don’t be silly. She’s not here right now. How’s she going to know I read it as long as I don’t tell her? I mean, unless she, like, measured and recorded exactly where she left it... Huh. That sounds like something she would do. Maybe I should just leave it alone. There's gotta be something else to do, right?
...
But it sounds so exciting!
Slowly, her curiosity, strengthened by rampant boredom, overcame her caution. She twirled about and skipped merrily back into her room, flopping down on her bed and opening the book.
The first thing that caught her attention was the writing. Sonata had stubbornly refused to make any effort towards her own handwriting, leaving it a haphazard scrawl, nigh incomprehensible to those who were not intimately familiar with its intricate mysteries. In stark contrast, Adagio’s writing, just as everything else she put any semblance of effort into, was flawless. Elegant and graceful, but without sacrificing legibility for artistic flair. It was so neat and consistent that Sonata would have doubted it was handwritten had she not seen the process firsthand.
Sonata flipped through the pages, seeing that Adagio had filled more than five hundred in such a manner.
Whoa. Sonata’s eyes widened with awe, marveling at Adagio's dedication. All three of them had picked up a wide array of skills over the years, but very few pursuits had been more than a momentary diversion. She had been expecting something more like a compilation of whatever short stories or snippets of the past that had popped into Adagio's head. Instead, it looked like a single cohesive story, months or even years in the making.
If nothing else, it would take her a while to get through the whole thing. Sonata went back to the first page and started reading.
About ten minutes later, she was about to start banging her head against the wall out of frustration. She had made very little progress, as the book seemed to be designed as a grueling test of the reader's vocabulary.
Post-jentacular frolicking? Who talks like that? Sonata started to close the book and look for something less strenuous, but stopped when she recalled how persistently fruitless her past search had been. "Better than nothing," Sonata grumbled to herself as she continued to read.
Almost an hour later, Sonata finally finished the first chapter. Despite having gone through such a harrowing experience, two thoughts were perfectly clear in her mind.
One: Stick to picture books. That one was way too complicated.
Two: Adagio needs a present. I know just the thing.
Sonata gently closed the book and crept back into Adagio’s room, where she carefully placed it back on the table as close to where it had been as she could. She fiddled with it a bit afterwards just to be certain in the correctness of her placement of it. Once she was satisfied, she scampered out and quietly closed the door as she left.
With the book returned, Sonata’s path was clear. She already had everything she needed, and with Aria shunning her, there would be no distractions.
Finally, the rain passed, but only at a time when most were not awake to see it. It was just at that border where 'late at night' transitioned into 'early morning,' taking all the worst qualities of both.
Adagio, much to her discomfort, was very much awake. She wasn't alert enough to say for certain, but she was pretty sure there was a gash in the wall from when she had flung the door open. If so, it was a concern that could wait. There were only a few things on her mind, and sleep was almost at the very top of her priorities.
But her work was not quite done. As much as she had done during her absence, there were still things to be done at home. She walked through the halls in a circuit of the house to ensure that everything important was more or less as she had left it. For the most part, it was. There were a few things here and there that had been moved, but nothing worth worrying about. Nothing was missing, and that was what mattered.
Next came the second floor. As she had anticipated, Aria's door was closed and locked, while Sonata was snuggled up with her stuffed animals, sound asleep and snoring softly. For all the annoyances that came with Sonata's presence, Adagio could not deny that she was rather cute when she was calm and quiet. If only she stayed that way more often, they'd get along just fine.
Her inspection finished, Adagio slipped into her bedroom, flicked the lights off and collapsed onto her massive bed, finally letting her fatigue catch up with her. It was not long before she joined her sisters in a state of restful slumber.
She awoke to the sight of the sun shining obnoxiously through her window. Outwardly, she remained grimly silent, but her mind filled with a furious rant cursing that infernal ball of fire for daring to think it had control over her sleep cycle. For a moment, she considered going straight back to bed just to spite it. But what would be the point? Fatigue was no excuse for laziness. Adagio laboriously lifted herself from her delightfully fluffy mattress.
To her relief, she encountered neither of her sisters as she ventured downstairs in search of coffee. As much as she had looked forward to returning from her tiring but productive journey, the thought of actually meaningfully interacting with someone sickened her. Thus, she took advantage of her solitude to work quickly and efficiently. Only a few minutes passed before she was going back to her room with a steaming mug of coffee.
She sat down at her desk, calmly drinking the comfortingly warm drink. She took the time to savor it as the caffeine seeped into her bloodstream, leaving her feeling rejuvenated and alert by the time she set the mug down, to be cleaned at a later time.
With that taken care of, she walked over to her shelves. A wall of books stood in front of her, each one eagerly awaiting the time when she would honor it with her attention. Only a rare few were anything other than fictitious, and most depicted fantastic worlds of monsters and magic every bit as outlandish as the world she hailed from. Amidst the sea of literature, one book caught her attention. She carefully slipped it out and held it delicately in her hands. It was one of her favorites, a story about a nameless immortal traveling across multiple worlds to reclaim his stolen mortality. There were books that were better written out there, but this one had always fascinated her with its outlandish characters, ranging from living disembodied skulls to fallen angels and armor possessed by the spirit of a justice-obsessed ghost. Almost every time she read it, she stumbled across some minor detail she had missed before, leaving her with a better understanding of the story with each repetition.
This'll do, she decided.
Time went by swiftly as she engrossed herself in her book. For as long as she could remember, she had loved books, and having a body better suited for handling them was one of the few perks of her banishment. Some days, hours had passed without her notice once she got going.
This time, she barely went an hour before a sound broke her focus.
A knock on the door. Fast, light and rhythmic. That could mean only one thing. Adagio grimaced as she put her book down.
Might as well get this over with, she thought. “Come in, Sonata.”
The door opened, and Sonata pranced inside, holding a rectangular package wrapped in brown paper under her arm and beaming cheerfully. “Good morning!” she chirped.
“What do you want?” Adagio snapped.
Sonata's cheer dampened at Adagio's lack of enthusiasm. Her smile faded away to be replaced by an almost emotionless stare. "I have something for you," she droned quietly.
Adagio rolled her eyes. “I'm not interested. Maybe later." She went back to reading in hopes that Sonata would go away if she was ignored long enough. Years of experience told her that it was a futile effort, but she did it anyway in hopes of getting lucky.
“Please?” Sonata pouted. “You don't even know what it is yet...”
“Not. Interested."
“Adagio…” Sonata whined, looking incredibly petulant. “I spent hours on it…”
How can someone so old be so childish? Adagio groaned as she finally lifted her eyes to glare angrily at Sonata. “Keep it for yourself if it’s so important. I’m not in the mood for your games,” she snarled before going right back to her book.
Sonata’s shoulders slumped as she turned to leave, hanging her head in dejection. For a moment, it looked like she might actually leave, but Adagio was not so fortunate. Sonata looked down at her package before turning back to Adagio.
The rustling of the paper falling to the ground caught Adagio’s attention.
She just won't take a hint, will she? Adagio clenched her teeth in frustration as she lifted her head to rebuke Sonata a second time.
She froze as soon as she saw what Sonata was holding.
It was a painting. Adagio had known that Sonata liked drawing and painting for a long time, but never found the time to look at her creations very much. It was quite impressive, now that she bothered to acknowledge it. Hundreds of years of practice had produced a work of art that would make the greatest mortal master turn green with envy.
The superb quality barely registered as she stared at the picture. A pod of dolphins, frolicking through a calm ocean in the wake of a yellow hippocampus. It made no sound, but its mouth was open, as if in song. Despite being just a picture, it looked just as alive and filled with joy as if it were really in the room with her. It was vibrant, majestic and joyful, but most of all, it was free. A creature that was doing what it loved more than anything, and could keep going for an eternity. There was no need to ask what it was. It was her, in the ocean that she had loved so much when she was young.
Visions of the sea she had been taken from flooded her mind. For a moment, her memories, that had been so clouded by the passage of time, were as clear and sharp as the day she had made them. She saw the indescribable majesty of the sea, a sight only rivaled by the terrifying goddesses that dwelled beneath the waves. She let the memories overwhelm her, leaving her with no response save to stare in silent awe.
Slowly, her visions faded, and she returned to the present with only a single word.
“Why?”
"You liked dolphins, didn't you?" Sonata said with a casual shrug. "I thought you might like a picture of you with them."
Adagio raised an eyebrow skeptically. Hundreds of years and you just now think of that? A pretty face has done wonders for you, but you'll need a better story than that if you want to fool me.
"Sonata..."
Sonata’s eyes lowered as she hung her head in quiet shame. “I read your book. The one you told me not to read.”
It was strange, really. Adagio had always thought that she would be absolutely livid if either Aria or Sonata ever dared to peruse that book, as she had always intended for it to be for her eyes and her eyes alone. She had let the scenario unfold in her mind many times, carefully planning out the exact wording of her furious tirade. Perhaps it was merely surprise, but she found herself more curious than angry, wondering what it was Sonata had seen in it that had prompted her to spend so much time on a gift and expect nothing in return. She took no action, but simply looked expectantly at Sonata, prompting her to explain her actions.
“It was full of memories. You don't have anything else to remember our home by, so you put your memories into a book where you won't lose them. Memories are just thoughts, so you tried to make them real by turning them into words. I... felt sad that those words are all you have, so I made you this." Sonata looked down at the picture. "Please don't be mad at me," she added in a soft tone.
Adagio stared at Sonata, her face stony and impassive as she collected her thoughts. As far as Sonata was concerned, Adagio was using every bit of her vast intellect to devise creative forms of torture, ways to inflict such agony on Sonata that she would never again defy her. What she was actually thinking, however, was of a very different tone.
I wasn't asking for your sympathy, Sonata. I never was, and I never will.
But I won't turn it down when you give it so freely.
“If you don’t want it, that’s alright,” Sonata said after a long pause, her voice heavy with sadness. "I'll just... put it away. Sorry to have bothered you."
“It’s alright, Sonata.” Adagio stood up and walked over to gently take the picture from Sonata's hands. “You did quite well,” she remarked as she carefully eyed the picture, smiling faintly.
“You like it?” Sonata said, her eyes wide with excitement as her gleaming smile returned in full force.
She's so cute when she's excited. How could I deny her?
Adagio nodded, looking up from the painting to smile warmly at Sonata. It was a rare expression for her, but that only made it all the more precious, a sight that Sonata could never duplicate in drawing no matter how hard she tried.
“Thank you, Sonata.”
Sonata beamed back at Adagio. “You’ve done so much for us. You should get something for yourself once in a while.”
Adagio giggled. You're just full of surprises, aren't you? I couldn't have asked for anything better. She turned and hung the picture on the wall opposite her bed, where it would be the first thing she saw in the morning. A reminder of a long-lost home. She had always assumed that Equestria was forever lost to her, but somehow Sonata had given her a tiny piece of it. What more could she ask for?
When Adagio turned around, Sonata was nowhere to be seen. She must have decided that Adagio needed a moment to herself.
One minute passed. Maybe two.
Slowly but surely, Adagio’s eyes drifted back to the painting, now hanging from her wall. With fond memories of what she once had came bitter reflections on how she had lost it all. How maybe, if she had just been a little more careful, they would still be there. She thought of all the things she could have done differently, how much better off they would all be if it weren't for her weakness. For a second time, an eruption of memories swirled inside her head, but one thought stood above the rest.
I'm sorry. If I had only been stronger, we'd still be there. You'd be happy, both of you. I took your home away from you. I'm so, so sorry.
With neither of her sisters in sight, there was no need to maintain her composure. It had been years since she cried, but she made no effort to stop the tears falling from her eyes. She collapsed to her knees, weeping silently in isolation. She stayed there for a long time, until her blouse was soaked by her tears and a puddle started to form at her feet. The joy that had lifted her spirits only minutes before was cruelly stamped out to be replaced by grief and despair. It was a long time before she moved again, but slowly, her thoughts began to take on a different tone as her lips twisted into a scowl.
Guilt. Is that what this is? Guilt for my mistakes? A desperate plea for forgiveness?
How pathetic.
You are a goddess, Adagio Dazzle. Act like one.
Adagio reigned in her briefly rampant emotions and locked them away in the darkest depths of her mind, where they could do no harm. She suppressed her tears with a thought, chiding herself for losing control so easily. Guilt and sorrow were for humans. Weak, powerless, pathetic little humans. Hardly suitable for goddesses. She shifted her gaze from the past to the future, and as her mind cleared itself of distractions, her grimace gave way to a sinister smile right out of the darkest of nightmares. Her heavy breaths turned into quiet giggling before rising into an echoing cackle as she rose to her feet, standing tall and proud.
What does it matter, that I have lost my home? This prison is just another realm to conquer. Centuries of agonizing imprisonment could not break me. I endured, and in enduring, I grew strong. I will not repeat my mistakes. You thought I'd be helpless here, didn't you? You thought I would simply lay down and perish? How absurd.
I've already made all the preparations. Very soon now. That rainbow was just the beginning.
I don't know what has happened, but that school is at the center of it all.
They couldn't have made it easier for me if they tried. Soon, their magic will be mine. All mine.
