Author's Note

Set after the events of Etiquette but before the Epilogue.

Grey Light, New Day

Melody & Dazzle

It’s rare for me to wake up alone these days.

I think it’s a bit funny how jarring it is, considering I did it for so very long, but the fact of the matter is that when I turned over in bed to find Adagio missing from her usual spot beside me so early in the morning I felt… disturbed.

I wiped my eyes as I rose from the bed and pulled the sheets off, and they came away slightly damp with sweat. I grimaced at them and grumbled as I stretched and smacked my lips, trying to ignore the stifling heat. It was the longest day of summer and we were in the heart of Manehattan which seemed to adopt the extremes of either end of the temperature spectrum depending on where on the calendar you landed.

Winters weren’t cold, they were freezing. Summer wasn’t warm, it was intolerably hot. I couldn’t fathom why anyone would willingly choose to live in the Manehattan considering the plethora of other options. The city was the very definition of crude and disgusting, with Manehattanites proudly declaring they were ‘Manehattan Tough’ and saying things like ‘Only in Manehattan’.

Yes, obviously… only in Manehattan could you encounter a naked, gyrating transient drunkenly slurring through showtunes in front of an open guitar case on the subway.

Only in Manehattan could you have someone verbally savage you for having the audacity to almost be run over by their car as they flew past a red light.

And you would certainly need to be ‘Manehattan Tough’, whatever that means, in order to endure the fact that the wretched city turns your brain into a caged vermin that it administers semi-random electrical shocks to until it loses its mind in a frenzy of rage.

I’m not a fan of the city, is my point.

Still, it was tolerable enough with Adagio by my side, which she wasn’t at the moment, which leads me to my current distress.

“Darling?” I called as I stood from the bed and looked around our hotel room. It was a voluminous one, as per usual. “Adagio? Love, are you here?”

There was no forthcoming answer and since the shower wasn’t running I was certain she wasn’t just bathing and out of earshot that way. No, it seemed she truly wasn’t in the room, and for some reason that sent an unfeasible stab of panic through me.

“Damn you, woman,” I nearly bit my lip as I stalked into the bathroom to rinse myself off for the morning. “When I find you I’ll-!”

A note was tacked to the mirror of the bathroom.

My love,

Just in case you missed the note I left by the bedside, I’ve left this one here.

I’ve gone out for the morning, it’s nothing to be concerned about, I just had something to attend to in private. If that troubles you, I’ll be at the boardwalk overlooking the bay. You may join me if you wish.

With all my love,

A.D.

I stared for a moment as I scanned the note, then turned and swept back across the room to the end table by my side of the bed and found, certain enough, a copy of the note in the bathroom that I had overlooked in my panic.

“Bloody Sirens,” I sighed as I picked up the note and scanned it as well, but it said more or less the same thing.

She had something to do. She was inviting me to join her if I wanted to, but I got the distinct feeling that it was something she wasn’t certain about. Maybe it was something Adagio was used to doing alone? I suppose that was possible, but she’d never mentioned something like that to me before.

I picked up my phone and tapped Adagio’s contact icon, then held the mobile to my ear and waited til the line connected.

//Good morning, my Melody,// Adagio’s voice was soft and almost sad. //I trust you got my note?//

“I did,” I replied evenly, “you could have woken me up, you know.”

//Perhaps,// Adagio allowed with a small chuckle, //But I know how you love your beauty sleep, and I was up quite early.//

“It’s still early, darling,” I replied grumpily. “It’s not even six in the morning.”

//That was rather my point,// Adagio laughed, then sighed and I could hear the call of ocean birds through the line. //I’ll text you my location if you wish to join me, otherwise-//

“Send it to me,” I tried to bite back the annoyance in my voice, but I’m certain I failed. Lord knows my temper is always getting the better of me. “Sorry, I’m just… I mislike waking up alone, darling… just… I’ll be there soon, alright?”

//Of course,// Adagio replied quietly. //I love you, Octavia.//

“I… I love you too,” I replied softly. “Now and always.”

I showered and dressed as quickly as I could, favoring a light, pale blouse secured with my bowtie, as ever, and a flowing skirt that trailed down to my ankles. I settled a wide-brimmed sunhat over my head in anticipation of the day, then made my way outside to the chauffeur that had been put at our service and gave him the directions Adagio had sent me.

As the vehicle moved at a fair clip, the traffic was not quite into its full and terrible swing for the day, I combed my hair straight and watched the city pass by. Even at the heart of Summer, it was still not quite fully light out. I couldn’t fathom what would have had my darling Adagio up so early as to make it all the way out to the bay before I’d even stirred.

Damnably, the heat was still present. The city soaked up heat like a sponge and even the chill of the morning and the east ocean wasn’t enough to sap it away, so the city was as horribly hot as usual, and it would only get worse as the day progressed and the sun rose higher in the sky. Adagio knew I hated Manehattan… I was a winter child, a daughter of the frigid city of Canterlot, with its forested hills and still, lakeside waters.

But then again, Adagio was a creature of the ocean. The city of Manehattan was as tumultuous as a storm-tossed sea and perhaps that was what Adagio found so comforting about it. As chaotic as the city was, it still reminded her of home and the familiarity therein was at least comforting, if not comfortable.

The car stopped at the curbside to the boardwalk and I got out, tipping the driver and sending him on his way. We had an app on our phones that would let us call him when we needed a ride back.

At least the car was air-conditioned.

I made my way down the street and onto the boardwalk itself, and my nose filled with the scent of sea salt and fish, and I blessed the cool kiss of the ocean breeze on my too-hot skin.

If there was one thing I loved about the ocean over the lakes that bordered Canterlot, it was the smell of it. That clean, salty scent that seemed to sweep straight through you and leave you feeling more awake and refreshed than anything else in the world could have at that moment.

Adagio wasn’t hard to spot, standing at the far end of one of the emptier docks. Her bombastic poof of orange curls was unmistakable even at a distance.

The sun fully crested the horizon in the east as I opened my mouth to call out to her, and my voice died in my throat as she was framed by the dawn. The light seemed to spill out around her, and my heart skipped a beat as I felt something ephemeral wash over me.

Then… Adagio began to sing.

It was a high, mournful sound, and the language was one I could never reproduce even if I trained for decades. I couldn’t tell where the vocalising ended and the lyrics began, or vice versa. Adagio’s song spun through ranges and registers that I couldn’t even fathom, and if I’d heard it as a recording I’d have sworn up and down that it was a modified somehow, or doctored.

There was simply no way that such a beautiful sound could be made by a human voice.

But then, I suppose it wasn’t being made by a human voice, was it?

Adagio’s song lasted the better part of ten minutes until the sun had risen entirely, and as the last of the sun passed the lip of the ocean Adagio’s voice came to a low, sorrowful close.

It was like waking up from a dream as the final notes tapered off, and I snapped back to reality before striding across the dock towards Adagio. She never moved from where she stood at the edge, she just stared out across the sea in silence as I moved up next to her, slipping my hand into hers and twining our fingers together.

“Good morning, my love,” Adagio said softly, and her voice was a touch raw when she spoke. “Apologies for this morning… I wasn’t sure I wanted company for this, but… I knew you wouldn’t have any peace about it til you saw me.”

“It’s alright,” I leaned against her slightly, and let out a small sigh of relief at her proximity. “May I ask what… what was that?”

Adagio was silent for several minutes, but I could see her ruminating. Her eyes, soft gleaming raspberry orbs that were normally lit with ambition and delight, were unfocused as she gazed at the ocean. She wasn’t ignoring me, though, and I felt her hand tighten its grip on mine as she tilted her head just slightly so it was resting atop mine.

“Do you believe in God, Octavia?” Adagio asked quietly.

I lifted my head from her shoulder and stared at her for a moment. She so rarely used my name like that, but today she’d done it twice in as many hours. There was something different about her this morning, something far more serious than I was accustomed to.

“I’ve never been a person of great faith, if that’s what you’re asking,” I replied after a moment. “My parents weren’t churchgoers, nor was I… and I’ve never felt any great need for religion either.”

“But do you believe in God?” Adagio pressed, glancing over at me as she finally broke her staring contest with the horizon.

“I… suppose I don’t,” I said finally. “This world never struck me particularly godly, if I’m being honest,” I grimaced bitterly as I thought back to Stalling Reins. “It’s an ugly thing, most of the time… brutish and unfair, and it seems designed to prey upon the most vulnerable of people.”

I sighed and pulled my hand back from Adagio’s to wrap my arms around myself.

“If I had to put it into words,” I continued, “I would say that, if God were real, then people wouldn’t have to work so hard just to enable basic humanity… so either God isn’t real… or he truly doesn’t care.”

“I see,” Adagio’s tone was quiet and thoughtful as she nodded. She didn’t seem put out by my answer, for which I was thankful. “Did you know I was a priestess?”

I stared at her in shock.

I had not known that.

“A… a priestess?” I repeated dumbly. “A-as in you were-?”

“Like your Priests, Fathers, and Pastors, yes,” Adagio nodded as she turned to face me fully. “Although the Deep Faith was quite different from these modern faiths… more like the ancient Roaman religions, I suppose.” Then she chuckled wryly and shrugged. “Actually, I was more than just a Priestess… I was the Priestess. The High Priestess, the chief ritualist of the Deep Faith and keeper of the most sacred sites and temples.”

“I… I see,” my voice came out toneless and unsteady.

Adagio hadn’t been just a Priestess of her faith, if she was telling the truth which I had no reason to believe that she wasn’t, she had been the Siren equivalent of the bloody Pope.

Holy hell.

“Before the death of my people,” Adagio turned to look back at the ocean as she spoke, “before I came here in this… this human body, I was the highest authority in the matters of faith for the Siren Empire.” Her thoughtful expression turned to a grimace a moment later. “At least, I was until I confronted our Empress about her mad plan to weaponise our song… to take the holiest of gifts from our progenitor and defile it for the sake of mass conquest.”

“What happened?” I asked softly.

“We engaged in a debate,” Adagio replied with a faint shrug. “Although for the Siren race that means far more than simply making our arguments as it does here.” She chuckled as she turned back to me with a wan smile. “The Siren word for ‘Debate’ more accurately translates into something like ‘War of Voices’, and the ensuing property damage was… significant.”

“I assume you didn’t, ah… make your point?” I ventured carefully, and Adagio let out a harsh laugh.

“As it happens, I did not,” she replied with a shake of her head. “Empress Concerta stood victorious after an hours-long debate and then, rather than kill me as she normally would have, she stripped me of my title and cast me out of the city to the hermitage of my temple.”

“I’m sorry,” I wasn’t really sure what else to say. “At the risk of sounding presumptuous, I feel that’s not terribly dissimilar, except for perhaps in relative scale, to what had happened to myself.” Adagio raised an eyebrow thoughtfully, so I continued. “You had her life’s endeavor torn from her by a cruel overseer… you lost everything trying to do what you felt was right, and protect the sanctity of something you loved.”

“I rather suppose I did,” Adagio allowed with a nod. “And the debasement of Noden’s Gift reaped precisely the reward I warned Concerta about.”

“Your people died,” I said softly, and she nodded. “Who… who is Nodens? A Siren?”

“Who is God?” Adagio countered with an even look. “Our scripture says that Nodens was the ocean made manifest, the living song of the tides and the trenches,” her voice took on a sermonistic tone, “Nodens was the first living Will of the world, and its Will crafted the Oceans and Lands… its Oath birthed the Siren race… and its Gift to us was our holy voices that carried a splinter of its own will, the voice that commands life to exist as it sees fit.” She trailed off, then sighed despondently. “Or so sayeth the Deep Faith, I suppose.”

“You believe in Nodens as a creator, then?” I asked cautiously, and Adagio just shrugged again.

“I… I did…” she said weakly, and I felt my heart clench at the lost tone of her voice. “Maybe I still do in Equestria but… in this place? This literally godless planet? I’m not sure.”

And there it was. Adagio wasn’t just upset, she was having a crisis of faith, and likely had been for some time but had been burying it under work and goals.

“I’m not really what anyone would call an expert in the matter,” I began as I moved in front of her and settled my hands on her hips. “But I’m given to understand that’s rather the purpose of faith, isn’t it?”

Adagio pulled me close, and hugged me tightly, her arms folding around me and I could feel the fragility in her as a small shudder ran through Adagio’s powerful frame. It was a rare thing for Adagio to seem helpless or weak, she was the iron pillar that held everything up most of the time, but I’d learned quickly that even the strongest load-bearing column can only take so much.

I wasn’t as strong as her, and admitting that to myself wasn’t nearly as galling as I thought it would be, but I was strong enough. Strong enough to take a bit of the weight from Atlas’s shoulders for a moment.

Strong enough to lighten her load now and again.

“Faith is a tricky thing,” Adagio broke the silence finally and let out a slow breath. “It’s as ephemeral as the moon’s grip on the tides… and yet no less strong for it.”

“I’m not in much of a position to speak on the matter, I suppose,” I admitted as I rested against her chest comfortably. “I’m not really a creature of faith.”

“I beg to differ,” Adagio replied, pulling back slightly to look down at me, and I met her eyes from under my sun-hat with a raised eyebrow of my own, and she laughed. “Do you love me, my Melody?”

I let out an offended huff. “Do you really have to ask that?”

“You know I’ll never leave you?” She asked, and I nodded judiciously. “And you know that I will never cease to love you?” I nodded, again, as this wasn’t exactly news. “That I will love with you all of my heart til time’s end and beyond?”

“Forever and always,” I said with a smile.

“How do you know?” Adagio asked in a somber voice.

“I…” I began but trailed off, finally catching her meaning. “Well… I suppose I just have faith, then, don’t I?”

“Love is the greatest leap of faith in all the cosmos, I think,” Adagio reached out with one hand to pluck the hat from my head, seized me around the waist with the other, and pulled me into a deep kiss.

I hummed in approval as I snaked my arms around her sides and up her back and hold onto her shoulders as Adagio leaned in. As always, when Adagio kissed me the world melted away and all there was around me was her. If I’m being honest though, out here that feeling was doubled upon itself. It was more than just a sensation, it was an overriding and almost overwhelming truth.

Adagio had that most curious scent about her; the gentle bouquet of sunshine and salt, and out here by the ocean under the light of the morning sun it was like the world was composed entirely of Adagio.

“Faith,” I began softly as we parted, then chuckled. “Well, I suppose having faith in a supernatural being makes more sense if I can regularly wake up next to her.”

“My point stands,” Adagio smirked, leaned in, and kissed me on the nose. “You have faith in me, and I in you.”

She raised her head to stare out over the ocean, and I turned to follow her gaze, leaning against her and molding my body to hers as I did.

“Love and Faith,” Adagio murmured, “what is eternity compared to putting your whole heart in the hands of another?”

“You’re the only one who will ever hold mine, darling,” I said softly, and Adagio leaned her head down to rest on mine in reply. “May… may I ask what it was you were doing when I got here?”

“An old rite,” Adagio replied easily. “The Solar Song was sung at the dawn of the longest day to give hope and thanks for a good harvest… the rich, warm sunlight fostered the algae farms on the surface of the ocean,” she gestured over the water, “and in turn made food plentiful for all the smaller creatures of the sea which we then hunted.”

“I see,” I stared out at the ocean, remembering as I did that no matter how silent it looked on the surface, beneath that surface it was teeming with life.

“I still hold to the old rites and rituals,” Adagio continued, “more fool me, perhaps… but on the minuscule chance that Nodens can still hear my song then…” she paused for a moment, looking sorrowful as she did before continuing. “I… I want our maker to know that at least one of the Firstborn yet lives and that she still remembers the old ways.”

“I think that’s lovely,” I looked up at her and smiled, and her lips curved up delightfully. “Will you tell me more?”

“It’s a bit dull and preachy,” Adagio warned, but I could hear her voice lighten.

“Tell me anyway?”

Adagio chuckled that rich, throaty laugh of hers, but nodded.

“Very well… ah, but where to start?”

I slipped my arm around her waist and hugged myself tight against her again.

“How about the beginning?” I ventured, and Adagio nodded.

“The beginning,” she repeated softly. “In the beginning… there was no dawn, and the depths were lightless and lifeless… and from that total emptiness came the first true feeling, and that feeling was Desire,” Adagio voice rose to a sonorous pitch, gaining strength as it did. “And with that desire came the Will to fulfill it, and the Ocean took its first breath, then exhaled the first note of song and that note was the first of the Siren daughters…”