Tall Tale. What a fitting name for this city, Lyric thought to herself, making her way towards this library's exit. The city was absolutely filled with libraries and museums, and it was the perfect fuel for a wandering bard’s inner fire. Lyric had happily spent the whole morning among the exhibits, delving into the local lore, and digging up any old songs and stories she could find. Her heart sang at the thought of performing these for the local ponies now that she had brought them to the light once more.
Stepping out into a rare break in the rain, Lyric hummed a tune she had discovered in one of the city’s institutions, though she could not say just which one it was any longer. It had been difficult to keep track of all their names after a while. Just as it was difficult to memorize this tune. It had many little tricks and turns—when she thought the tempo would slow or the melody would lower, the tempo would quicken instead and the music would soar! It would be difficult to translate onto her lute, but she could hardly wait to take her instrument into her hooves as she worked out the melody on its strings.
She could imagine herself spending the whole afternoon, cozy in her small hotel room—which would be paid for by all the bits she’d collected in previous towns—and losing herself for hours on end as she plucked and strummed and played her lute’s strings. And once she had unlocked the secrets of this particular melody, she would then turn to the tales she had discovered in the vaults, memorizing them and arranging the proper accompaniments. But instead of being lost in her music, Lyric was lost in her thoughts and collided with the pony in front of her. It was no more than a small bump, though she could still hear a quiet “Oof!” escape from the other pony as they both stumbled on that bustling street corner.
Her cheeks glowed pink. “I’m so sorry!” Lyric said as she found her hoofing once more and reached out to steady the other pony. “My mind was on other things and I did not see you. Are you alright?”
At this, the other pony turned around. As Lyric pulled her hoof away, she could see a cloud crossed with a red quill adorning the other’s flank. She stared in awe for a moment, and then met the stallion’s eyes just as he spun to face her, his grimace breaking into a grin. “Lyric! It really is you!” the brown unicorn cried just before he wrapped his fore hooves around her in a brief embrace.
Lyric’s laugh was bright as she returned the gesture. “Cloudy Day!” she exclaimed. “Of all the stallions to run into. Quite literally, in this case,” she said, pulling away.
Cloudy chuckled at that, his dark eyes sparkling with mirth. “Indeed,” he replied, “though I won’t hold it against you. After all…” Here, he swirled a fore hoof in tiny circles on the pavement and gave a sheepish grin. “I’ve gained quite the reputation around here for doing the same.”
“It is almost as if we are in the musical version of The Pony and the Beast, is it not?” Lyric said. “The two of us lost in our stories while the rest of the world passes us by.” She gestured with a hoof to the ponies and the carts rushing down the thoroughfare, the noise of their hooves and their shouts reaching her ears.
Cloudy’s eyes lit up some. “Well, yes, a bit, but at least there are many others around here who also appreciate the value of the written word. I just happen to appreciate it more than even the staunchest of book lovers. As do you,” he acquiesced, dipping his head toward Lyric. Taking in her cloak and lute, Cloudy asked, “And I presume that is what has brought you to Tall Tale? The search for the next story?”
“Of course!” Lyric told him. “I am unable to travel here often—after all, the accommodations are usually well beyond my means—but it is a wondrous treasure trove just waiting to be explored! Who knows what gem shall be unearthed with just a bit of searching?”
“Truer words have never been spoken.”
Noticing the saddlebags Cloudy carried, ready to burst at the seams from all of the books that were packed inside, Lyric pointed to them and said, “I suppose you are here for the same reason?”
“Not exactly,” he replied as he headed off down the street, partly to start on his way once more and partly, Lyric supposed, to mollify the ponies who were becoming rather aggrieved at their holding a conversation on the corner of the sidewalk. She walked alongside him. “I’m here to take care of my Gran for a while.” Cloudy then put a hoof to one of the bags and said, “And we also have my little sister to look after, so I found a little something to keep her entertained.”
“A little something?” Lyric asked with a laugh. “It seems your sister must have a library the size of Canterlot Castle, then!”
Cloudy laughed with her. “No, but I’m sure she would love that! Say…” Without warning, he came to a stop. Lyric searched all around them for the source of the disturbance before realizing that it was her that Cloudy was staring at. “I should take you to meet them! I know that Gran would love to get to know you, and Autumn is as big a fan as I am! She would be thrilled if you walked in the door—or she’d think it was a dream and would hardly believe it. But either way, I know that it would mean so much to her. So,” he asked, unable to conceal his excitement, “what do you say?”
Lyric did not hesitate. “Of course, Cloudy. I’d love to.”
Cloudy’s smile was as bright as the light shining down on them. “Wonderful! Let’s go!” He started upon the path once more, saying to himself, “Autumn’s going to be so excited!” Lyric grinned as they walked. His enthusiasm was infectious! It seemed to take no time at all until they were at Cloudy’s door. Opening it, Cloudy called out, “Gran, Autumn, I’m home. And I have company.”
“In here, Cloudy,” a creaky voice called back from inside the apartment. Cloudy motioned for Lyric to walk with him as he followed the voice. Squeezing through the narrow hallway proved to be a bit of a challenge for Lyric with her lute, but the two soon emerged in the living room to find Cloudy’s grandmother, an old pegasus, in her rocking chair. His sister, an earth pony, was lying on her back on the rug, a book of legends held open above her. Embers glowed in the bottom of the fireplace, warming the room.
With his magic, Cloudy floated the saddlebags over to Autumn Song. She did not move other than to turn the page of her book and push her glasses back up her nose. Cloudy gave an affectionate smile as he then stood in front of his gran’s rocker. She looked up, first at him, then at the bard. “Gran, this is my friend Lyric, the one I told you about from the carnival.” Lyric gave a small bow. “Lyric, this is my gran, Daisy Chain.”
“Ah, so you’re the famous Lyric,” Daisy said, taking up her hoof and giving it a gentle pat. “Cloudy’s quite enamoured of your stories, you know. He won’t stop talking about them, or about the time you met in Manehattan.”
“Gran!” Cloudy exclaimed.
Daisy laughed. “What? It’s the truth. Whenever you talk about some story now, it’s, ‘I wonder if Lyric knows about this one?’ or, ‘Do you think Lyric would’ve heard about this?’”
Cloudy’s cheeks flamed as his gran’s laughter became a soft snicker. Lyric tried to hide her own behind a hoof. Ducking his head, Cloudy plopped down next to his sister. “Hey, Autumn,” he said, tapping her shoulder, his embarrassment apparently forgotten. “I have a surprise for you.”
“Is it more books?” Autumn asked, still not tearing her gaze away from her own, her words blunt but her voice faraway.
“Better,” Cloudy told her. He gently took the book from her hooves and, placing the bookmark in its pages, set it aside.
Autumn rolled over onto her stomach, positioning her hooves underneath her to stand. When she did, her eyes beheld the cloaked figure in the room, with her parchment-colored coat, grass-green mane and tail with a forest-green streak in each, and freckles dotting her muzzle and legs. But it was the parcel strapped to her back that caught the filly’s attention. She stared at it, her eyes slowly widening, then back at Lyric.
The bard grinned and waved. “Hello, Autumn. I’m Lyric.”
Instead of giving a proper reply, Autumn ducked behind Cloudy, half of her face now hidden. Cloudy put a hoof to her back and murmured softly, “It’s okay, Autumn. You don’t have to be shy. Lyric’s a friend of mine, and she came here to meet you and Gran.”
“But I can’t help it,” Autumn mumbled in return. “That’s the Lyric… and she’s in our living room!”
“Yes, I am,” Lyric said, her voice quieted. “I’ve heard you like stories as much as your brother.”
“That she does,” Daisy told Lyric over the squeak of her rocker. “Always with their muzzles in a book, those two.”
Autumn said nothing. Slowly, Lyric reached for her instrument and began to unwind the oilcloth from around it. The filly leaned out from behind her brother ever so slightly. When the lute was free of its wrappings, Lyric said, “Well, then, how would you like to hear one of my new tales?”
At this, Autumn crept out, timidly approaching the bard, but with her ears pricked. “A new tale?” she asked. “Does that mean nopony’s heard it before?”
Lyric strummed her lute and tuned it to her liking as she said, “Well, I’m sure somepony has heard it before, but it is a new story to me. Now then…” She held her lute closer as she took on a mysterious tone. “How would you like to hear a tale of love and loss, faraway lands and mystical beings?” Both Cloudy and Autumn sat before Lyric at this, awed and expectant. Even Daisy leaned forward a bit to hear what web of words Lyric would weave. “Fillies and gentlecolt, I give to you my newest story, found in the archives of Tall Tale, in a performance just for you.”
And so Lyric regaled them all with a tale of a great white manticore and a poor peasant mare. With sweeping motions and impromptu melodies, she told them all how the manticore asked for the youngest daughter of a family to live with him, how she spent day and night in his enchanted castle, and how one fateful night she discovered how he was not a manticore at all, but a handsome stallion under a curse! Cloudy and Autumn gasped as she relayed how the stallion was whisked away by changeling magic to the Frozen North, with the only clue to his whereabouts being a mysterious riddle. They hung on to Lyric’s every word as, with the help of the four winds and determination, the mare found the changeling hive and discovered how the stallion was to marry their princess. And they sighed in happiness and relief when the stallion was freed from the hive and the curse when the mare was able to wash three tallow stains from his cloak, something the changelings with all of their magic could not even do.
Of course, this once again reminded Cloudy of The Pony and the Beast, and the two were off, telling the tale, acting out the parts, and Lyric adding dramatic flair with her lute. This then reminded Lyric of another tale, and Cloudy another. Even Autumn joined in with the stories she knew. They took no notice of the darkening of the skies outside as they put on their spontaneous show, but when the patter of rain hit the roof, Lyric paused and gazed out the window. “Sweet Celestia, it’s night!”
“What?” Cloudy put a hoof to the pane. “When did that happen?”
“It happened while you two were yawing on about those old stories of yours. I thought you’d never notice,” Daisy told them with a small smile.
Gathering up her lute and wrapping it in the protective cloth once more, Lyric said, “Well, I thank you all for the wonderful time, but I must be going.”
“But why?” Autumn said. “Can’t you stay and tell us another?”
“I wish I could, Autumn,” Lyric told her, “but I have to find a room for the night. I hope there is someplace that will be able to take me in…”
Although Lyric had said that last part to herself, Daisy called out, “Of course there is. You’ve got it right here.”
“Oh, no, I couldn’t impose—”
“Nonsense.” Daisy cut her off with a hoof and cautiously climbed out of her rocker. “You’re spending the night with us and that’s that.”
Autumn cheered. Racing down the hall, she cried out, “I’ll get the spare room ready!” over her shoulder.
Daisy Chain chuckled. “Whippersnapper,” she said with tender affection.
Lyric, however, was at a loss for words. The kindness of strangers—though she supposed she could hardly call Daisy Chain that any longer—never ceased to amaze her. “Thank you, Daisy,” she said to the old mare. “This means so much.”
“Oh, hush now. It’s nothing at all.” Daisy grinned at Lyric over her shoulder as she said, “And call me Gran. Now,” she continued as she made her way towards the kitchen, “who wants some soup?”
* * *
“Where is she?” Lyric mumbled to herself, looking up and down the street from her bedroom. “It is almost midnight. Perhaps she is out enjoying the solitude?” Even though that seemed plausible for Misty Moonrise, she could not imagine being out and walking in a night as cold and dreary as this one. Unable to sleep, Lyric trotted down the hallway to Cloudy’s room and knocked on the door.
“Yes?” Cloudy said as he answered.
“I’m terribly sorry to bother you, Cloudy.”
“It’s no trouble.” Cloudy opened the door wider. “I wasn’t sleeping. What do you need?”
Lyric hesitated. She was probably being silly, but… “Well, I was just wondering when Misty would be coming back?”
“… What?”
“I know that she enjoys the night and may want to spend some time alone in a city like this, but it is still rather late and the rain hasn’t let up. I’m starting to worry.”
Cloudy was silent. While he had been cheerful a moment before, his shoulders now sagged and his expression became wistful, musing. He lowered his gaze. “She’s not here, Lyric. She’s back in Ponyville.”
Lyric’s ears perked some. “Oh, well, that’s not too bad. No more than a day’s journey by train…” Cloudy’s head lowered even more. “Cloudy, what’s wrong? What’s going on?”
He sighed, almost dreamily, and lifted his head, though his gaze was still averted. “When I had to come here to take care of Gran, all of our other friends left Ponyville, too. She… she didn’t take it well.” Cloudy met Lyric’s eyes, and she could see the furrowed brow, the squinted corners. “We’ve been staying in touch through letters, and I love it when she writes to me. But I feel like she’s still hurting and is trying to spare me her pain.” His voice broke. “And I wish I could go to her, but I can’t leave Autumn and my gran just yet.”
For once, Lyric had no words. Instead, she placed her hoof on Cloudy’s shoulder, and he turned to her, gratitude in his eyes. “Say, if you… if you ever find yourself in Ponyville, would you check in on her? Every now and then?”
“Of course I will. You don’t even need to ask.”
Cloudy gave the barest of smiles as he said, “Too late. But thank you.” He paused, composing himself. “She’s staying in Princess Twilight’s castle. I’m sure you’ll be able to find her there.”
Lyric nodded and turned to leave. But just before she could, Cloudy called out, “And, Lyric?” She stopped and looked back at him. “Would you mind just letting me know how she is? How she really is, I mean?”
Lyric nodded again. “I’ll do that.”
Cloudy didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to. Lyric could see him straightening, hear his soft breath of relief. Waving goodnight, he shut the door.
***
Before Lyric had left Tall Tale, Daisy and Autumn had given her fierce hugs. “You make sure you come back and see us now, hm?” Daisy had told her.
Lyric had given her a warm smile as she said, “Of course I will. Thank you so much for having me.”
“Phaw! Think nothing of it.”
And so, with a last wave and many fond farewells, Lyric had left the humble home for the Tall Tale Train Station. While buying herself a one-way ticket to Ponyville, Lyric had kept replaying her conversation with Cloudy in her mind. As she’d gazed out the window of the train, she’d wondered and worried about the state of her friend. But that was this past morning, and now, standing before the doors to Princess Twilight’s library, she would have to wonder no longer. Lyric stepped up to the doors and knocked. No answer.
“Umm, you might just have to walk in,” Spike told her. The little purple dragon had been gracious enough to show Lyric the way. “She sometimes doesn’t hear it when you knock. Actually, make that almost all the time.”
Lyric waited for just a moment, then pushed the doors open. If it had been another day, she would have marveled at the sight of so many books and tomes. But that was not what she had come here for. It took some searching, but soon Lyric and Spike found her—Misty Moonrise. She was much as Lyric remembered her. Pale grey coat the color of mist, snow-white mane and tail unbrushed and trailing on the ground, her flank sporting a veiled moon cutie mark. She was surrounded by piles of nearly rotten books and crumbling parchments, her back to the bard.
Spike leaned over and said, “I’m just gonna leave you to it,” before walking away. The doors boomed as they closed, and then there was silence.
Lyric stepped around to face her friend. Misty’s nose was stuck in one of the ancient tomes. Lyric cleared her throat. Nothing. She stepped closer and softly called out to her friend. “Misty? Misty Moonrise?”
“Hm?” Misty lifted her head. When she saw who had spoken, she said, “Oh. Hello, Lyric.”
Lyric gasped. That shadowed gaze. The flat tone. They were so different from the brave and valiant Misty she had met in the Never, or the shy but fun-loving mare from the carnival. This, this pony before her, was only a shade of the the Misty she remembered.
“Have you found some information on the Shadowmancer?”
“What? Who, or what, is the Shadowmancer?”
“Oh, that’s right,” Misty said. “You were going to look for information on the Never. Well, if you find any on the Shadowmancer as well, I’d like to hear about it. The Shadowmancer is the one who scared the Never into attacking everyone. But, speaking of the Never, I don’t suppose you have anything on it that could help?”
Lyric shook her head. “No, Misty, that is not what I came here for. I—” Lyric stopped herself. Her heart was racing, and she was talking much too fast. She took a breath and forced a smile. “I just came to see how you were doing.”
“I’m fine, thank you.” Once again, that same dull voice. No feeling behind what she was saying.
“Are you sure?” The question escaped from Lyric almost before she even realized it. When Misty gave her a pointed eyebrow, Lyric said, “You just seem… different, is all. And I’m worried about you.”
Misty closed her book with a slam. “No need to be.” Her voice seemed to have gained an edge. “Like I said, I’m fine.”
Lyric’s heart pounded. I have to tread carefully, she thought. I don’t want to upset her further. “Well, then, perhaps we could have dinner together? It is a lovely evening.”
“No, thank you.”
“Misty—”
“I’m sorry, Lyric, but I have a lot of work to do.” She turned away, floated the book she had been reading over to a large pile, and picked up another. Flipping through the pages, she said, “If you don’t have anything to share, then I’m afraid that I must ask you to leave.”
“But—”
“Leave. Please.”
In a last, desperate bid, Lyric said, “I saw Cloudy. In Tall Tale.” That did the trick. Misty visibly stiffened. “He said that it’s been a while since you saw him last.”
She feared she may have pushed her friend too far with how long the silence dragged on. But then, in a voice barely above a whisper, she heard, “Three weeks.” Lyric’s ears perked. “It’s been three weeks since he left me. Just like all the others.” The mask had been lifted, for Misty suddenly sounded ages older than she actually was. “It hurt, but I didn’t think it would be quite like this since I could still visit his dreams…”
“You visit his dreams?”
Misty gave Lyric a pointed stare. The bard winced. “Sorry,” she murmured. That was a ridiculous thing to ask, she admonished herself. After all, she just told me that she does! More than that, she’s a dreamwalker, and Cloudy is her very special somepony. Of course she would visit his dreams! However, this gave Lyric a thought. She cautiously stepped forward.
“You know, Misty, if… if you ever wanted another friend, you could come visit my dreams as well. Since we’re usually so far apart and I’m always on the road, you would have a surefire way of reaching me.” No reaction. Only another turning of the page. Lyric waited, but it was clear that Misty wanted nothing more to do with her. She had donned her mask once more. Chest aching, Lyric said, “Alright, I understand. I’ll take my leave.” Still nothing. She trudged towards the library’s exit. But before she went too far, she stopped. “It… it was good to see you again.”
“Mm,” was Misty’s only response.
Lyric hesitated for a moment, torn between staying and helping her friend or leaving. But, realistically, how could she help? There were no tales she could tell or songs she could sing that would heal Misty’s heart. And she was not the pony Misty wanted or needed. As she made her way through the castle to the room that Princess Twilight had set aside for her for the night, Lyric’s mind raced. Misty did need help, that much was clear. And she had to tell Cloudy about Misty’s state of mind. But, for all of her wordsmithing, how could Lyric possibly describe the depths of despair she had seen?
When she had reached her lodgings, Lyric placed her lute down and pulled up a stool and sat at the desk. She lit a candle and took out a piece of parchment and a quill. She was about to start writing to Cloudy, but she hesitated. It was true that she’d told Cloudy that she would let him know how Misty was doing. However, if Misty herself was keeping her pain from Cloudy, then she must have a reason. Perhaps she didn’t want him to worry? Or perhaps she was trying to hide it, even from herself? Well, I certainly hope that is not the case…
Regardless, if Misty herself hadn’t told Cloudy how she really felt, then Lyric would not break her trust. Yet on the other hoof, Cloudy would be expecting a reply. Maybe not now, maybe not even soon, but eventually. Lyric rubbed her temples and scooted back from the desk. There was no easy way to solve this dilemma, it seemed. She stood and blew out the candle.
As Lyric removed her cloak and folded it, an idea formed in the back of her head. She paused and looked back to the untouched parchment and the unused quill. She then took a seat at the desk once more, using the moon as her light. Perhaps this dilemma can be easily solved after all, she thought as she wrote. When she was done, she placed the quill back into its holder and blotted the ink dry. Then, Lyric held up the letter and read it. There were only three words, three simple words, but they held all that she wanted to convey without betraying Misty. She set the letter down and crawled into bed. As her eyes closed, Lyric played the words over and over in her mind:
Come home soon.
THE END
Author's Note
Cloudy Day, Misty Moonrise, Daisy Chain and Autumn Song belong to my friend Emylia Hawke. Lyric belongs to me.
The musical version of The Pony and the Beast refers to the Disney film version of Beauty and the Beast. The story of the pony and the white manticore is based off of the fairy tale East of the Sun and West of the Moon. I do not claim these works as my own.
The Shadowmancer Saga will continue in
Shards of Shadow
Thanks for reading!
