Tales of Roan - Songs and Stories

by TheStratovarian

Rating: everyone
Tags: Alternate Universe, Original Character, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Mystery, Other, Adventure
Length: 2316

Tales and music out of the world Roan. A 1930-1940's fantasy pony analogue setting created by Robert Morris. Airships mesh with street cars, drugs, tommy guns, and intrigue. All different species try to find their way in this pulp-fiction world.

Welcome to Roan. A new world, built in the ashes of the Aether Wars. A new place, for a new people. From ponies, to zebra, mirage, canidians, gryphons, or even the dragons that sparked the wars and their fallout. Every place has a story, every hero, and villain their own tales to tell.

Each chapter is self contained.

This is a setting created by Robert Morris, and set into a world all its own.

Look it up over at roanrpg.com for more details and information.

Published 2017-04-29 17:00:01 UTC
Last updated 2017-04-29 17:00:01 UTC

The Nightingale

Author's Note

This was edited by the very kind and nice, user Eagle, Paladin of Shadows And whom made this flow a great deal better with his prowess.

The song tracks that I used for the three songs are
Nightwish - I know why the nightingale sings
Blackmore's Night - Peasants Promise
And Abney Park - His Imaginary World

The Nightingale

The dressing room was quiet. Not even patrons for this evening’s performance could be heard back here. Brushing the feather dust on, and nodding, I would only sigh. Why they came for my song, I never could guess. It might have been the wounds; it might have been pain, or loneliness. I never truly understood ponies.

“Yes?” came my reply to the attendant knocking on the door.

“Ah, they’ll be calling you up shortly, miss.” the young colt behind it replied.

“Thank you kindly, I’ll be up shortly.” My voice, light and lilting in my heritage, my curse, replied. “Feel the light, like snow upon the water.” the dulcet tones rising, shifting and swaying to a hidden song. “When will we realize, we’ve been living lies we knew were wrong…” as the last of the prep work was done. This was ritual by this point. My hooves slid into the false claws easily, as I stood, departing the backroom under full ensemble.

I smiled at passing ponies, a nod here, an amused giggle there, or a demure chuckle at a passing joke. I stopped at the end of the passage to nod to the introduction being given as I stepped out under the looks, whistles, and catcalls from among the few gryphons scattered amongst the ponies.

“Good evening, and welcome to this fine establishment. Tonight I’ll be singing a few favorites, and a few others. So, without further ado…” I waved to the band, the music starting. “What does the world care for your plight? Asks the soldiers with the look in his eye.” And I can only let my lament sing here as the strings pluck themselves. “Know why the nightingale sings? Is the heart of everything.”

“We step to the skies unbound, before the world seeks to chain us down.” And how it has. “Soaring to the moons unjudging leash. We can touch the heavens, in reach.” It waits below, for we all must tire. “Alight with magics of the aer, we are the world and everywhere.” Onward the band plays, my voice for the magic, enthralling. “We have the love of the world abound, our maiden voyage so proud.”

“We fly such unfriendly skies. Don’t know to trust as I plummet earthbound. I struggle to seek the aer. For the has earth claimed me at last.” And I pause, looking out to those patrons. Some I see look to their drinks, others look to me, puzzled. The staff moves quietly among them. They know, they listen, and have heard. Some know, some don’t, and I hope they never do.

As the refrain ends “There is no song I won’t sing, if only to get my wings. To once more ride the currents of aer. I will fight for the end of everything, As long as I know why the nightingale sings.”

I add my voice to the melody flowing in the mood, helping lift it up, and buoying it up and down in tandem. I could only smile, a little, seeing new faces enraptured to hear my heart. I let the applause die down, “For the next, it’s an older song. One not sung outside of home, even there, rarely. But for those traveling here, we’ve all heard this one. The rest will be in for a treat. After all, it’s a promise.”

After taking a small drink of the mineral water the colt from before brought out, I give him an honest smile of thanks, bringing a blush from him. I turned back to start as the rustic tune of old started with a nod to our band. “It was a dark winter night. And he flew in my sight. With a grace so majestic it was love at first sight.” Where before my voice carried the loss, the haunted, and the lamenting, now it sprung wistful, hopeful, and forlorn.

“I heard of his tales of renown and his fight. He sought my love so true, that he might be mine tonight.” A wry smile, enigmatic in part, to look out to my audience with. “I gazed in his eyes. A truth to realize. He was but a scholar, for all the half-spoken lies. He sought my hand one day, his hopes to stay. He was but mine save, for duty carried him away.”

I could smile, at least openly, as the band played the old song. It was true, after all. Wiping a tear away, I began the next stanza. “He said: My life’s blood to you. In war and in peace. The tsar do call claim here, but only you I seek. A kinder soul, I’ve yet to one day meet. For he gave to me his life, and only I to keep.” There was warmth there, of the fresh snow of home, of a family time, brief, but welcomed. I let the tears flow for a second, my voice never wavering as I continued.

“In the light of my country so free.” And there the smiles were, in the crowd, Roan and gryphons both. “My dear beloved so much to me.” For they do for all, no matter who we are. But I stood, still smiling, as I repeated the warmth and the times long gone.

“No scholarly thoughts, he couldn’t pay high costs. And sometimes it feels like he’s totally lost. But he said this true, and he said it loud. I promise you my heart with this solemn vow.”

The spotlighted faded for the moment, as history flashed before, but the song was everything. “They came for him next night. As he flew out of sight, upon the wings of aer, that were so perfectly white. When winter drew again, he’d return on buoyed winds. And I’d hope he’d be with me, for more than just that night.”

With the music carrying me, there was only a little left, “With the wings of our new liberty… My dear beloved gave so much to me… In our people’s lives now free. My dear beloved gave too much, to me.” I basked in the applause, in my silence, to gesture as well for the band to rise and take a bow too. No singer is alone, after all.

“Take a moment, stretch, smile, and enjoy. There is more to hear in the nightingale tonight. I promise you.” my words echoed among the crowd as I descended to get a refill to my water. More smiles, an amused proposal, and even wistful tears for an elderly drake, whom I took a moment to hug, and smile, till he did the same.

A minute or two more of weaving through the crowd, and I sat on the stool made available, a light chuckle to nab the roadie’s attention behind the bar, long since filling orders with Falcongrad efficiency.

“No poison?” His heavy voice offered out in serving another patron a good Canidian whiskey in the heavy bottomed shot glass.

“Not tonight. Still more to sing, just more of the that draconic mineral water if you would. It’s done well, thank you very much. Have you seen the new server since we started? The kid?”

“Been backstage, manager maybe, cleaning perhaps, no tellin’.” He never pausing from the orders and bit being changed from talon, or hoof.

A few bits for the refill and news was all I needed to seek the new hire. A kind word here with the lighting staff, and more still with the band. I found the poor colt sitting in a shaded alcove. “I’d offer a good few bits for your thoughts.” Only to have to stifle a laugh as he tried to bolt every which way at my quiet entrance, apologies already coming in.

Placing a taloned hand to hush him, gently of course. “Relax. Breathe in.” showing him with a simple demonstration. “Now try, no apologies, or I’ll hush you again till you can.”

“I er, sor, ah.” he finally paused enough to collect and breathe, good. “How do you do it?” he questioned, only to blush at what he implied. My laughter didn’t help do much but turn him beet red, and slink into the seat, and back into stammering an apology.

“Hush.” my tone kind, and gentle, as I discreetly flick the aetheric microphone on. “It’s fine. It is, just listen for a moment. You’ve not been here long, have you?” Smile, warm, you’ve been down this road. He isn’t hearing the echo. “Maybe a different city? A different world than you’re used to? This place has so many friendly faces. You keep wondering, when the mirror breaks, and you see how it is?” And theres the chord hit, a better life, the band stepping into position again, the gentle tune starting.

The single spotlight freezing the poor colt in my shadow, shocking the patrons into silence too. “A young soul, left all alone.” I raised my wings shielding him from the light for the moment, “In her quiet little home, and her mother is gone.” It was him and me, a little moment, a little song to share. “She escaped from reality, hide from terrifying strife.” he still wanted to run, and I understood. “Sought a brighter life, to shelter from this plight.”

A taloned finger on his nose, and a gesture to wait, to trust me, an idol. I sung for him and the crowd, the light casting him back into shadow. “As she grew, she learned to sing. But she never forgot her imaginary world.” A glance to him, enraptured, and I could relax, letting my eyes close, and voice carry the old scars. “While living on her own, was pain and stress. The forgotten world she sheltered in to rest.” And my voice ringing, sung of times long past. “So she closes her eyes, sang in a voice so low. Calling her dreamed of world to once more appear.” Smiling, I could continue. No old vultures anymore. “She loved it there. This dream she made, and the girl lived a life. Where she finally could survive.”

Looking now amongst the crowd, to the smiling staff, I offered a hand to help him out of my shadow, into the spotlight to share, to see. And slowly, as the band played on, he did, hiding in and out of my shadow, to the bemused crowd, eyes never leaving my own in awe. “They placed her above. They placed her alone, for her voice wove a dream that they had for their own.” A light touch lifting his face downtrodden with a smile, an understanding one. “I don’t want to rule, just sing and create.” and seeing the staff sing quietly along with “Long live the queen, for she is truly great.”

Moving among the crowd, I made sure to move slowly with my newest shadow. Encouragingly, a little brighter smile as he would slink a little more out of my shadow. “As dreams moved on, she was loved in her world. Though distanced more through her dreams sung alone.” and this would sting, but it would heal. “She shone in the light, up above, all alone. While the many below placed her in a cage.”

The light I knew had shown slowly up to me, hiding his reaction. A glance could tell he was shocked, and a tad crestfallen. Still, he walked with me, as I sung among the crowd. “She danced in her cage. Sung with passion and fear. No imaginary world began to appear.” We had reached the front of the stage as I sat, looking into the colts eyes with a content smile. “Her words touched hearts in gilded cage, and the girl found she could one day face her life.”

He was walking with me as the song played ever on. “It was new, and unproven. She so very afraid of the peoples reaction when she left her cage. She had a kind dad. Loyal, pure, and true. Who fought to free her, and helped her dreams come true.” Deftly moving a chair out of his way, my words resonating with him, as other patrons seemed more introspective as the tale continued. “To the ponies of Roan. The stories of my land make people seem like slaves. For they live lives so caged.”

Ignoring the look of horror out of him, I pressed on. “Yet no dreams escape the rigors of time, and my soul longs for home. Even singing in this land.” I knew the gryphic patrons, knew all to well what I spoke on. “So she dreams at night, and sings with a voice so clear. For the best of both worlds one day to appear.” Back upon the stage, the poor kid still lost in his own shadows more than mine. “So she sings of love for a homeland she cries. So she sings each night, for her dreams to one day arrive.”

Ringing true, I could only embrace the music, the world gone save for me and my open cage. “She sings at night, and calls with a voice so clear for the best of both worlds to one day appear. She sings of loss. For a homeland she cries. So she dreams each night, for her world to one day arrive.” And turning to kneel next to the poor colt, looking up at his memories of home. Her final tonal words to ask as the light dimmed. “I trust your dream will thrive?” Hugging him and helping mend a different set of wounds with the fading stage light.