Rain.
I listened to the familiar staccato of drops drumming on the castle roof as I slowly plodded down the hall I’d patrolled for longer than I could remember. Step by step, an endless cycle continued. Go to the east wing. Was it really a castle to begin with? Pass through the hall. Maybe it had been once, but now it was my station. Go down the stairs. Maybe it had always been my station, or maybe…
Distant images flashed through the back of my mind. Nightmare Moon had ordered us to guard the place like the apple of her eye.
I stopped. The long-familiar clatter of my hooves instantly gave way to an equally long-familiar silence.
I thought of Us…
The images started to flesh out, outlining the silhouettes of seven batponies standing before the self-proclaimed Mistress of Night as she ordered us to guard… A castle? A hall? Some dungeons? I wasn’t sure.
I thought of the batponies
Who were they? Where were they now? Did they too stick to their duties, wandering in an endless maze of halls, or…
Had there even ever been others at all?
A disturbing sound interrupted my thoughts; my reverie turned to wariness.
It was a weird sound. During my stay here, I’d memorized every possible sound this place could produce. The long drawn-out creak of doors, the gentle patter of rain, the sullen howls of wind. The weird sound came again. A screech, I recalled quickly. Though it wasn’t like the droning, soothing chant of creaking chairs in the lounge room; more likely something quiet, sinister. The noise seemed to be coming from above the ceiling.
I recalled a route to the nearest staircase and made my first unsure step. The familiar sound of my hoof connecting with the cold, stone floor helped me focus, and gave me back the much needed confidence I’d lost in the wake of this unusual event. When I reached the stairs, I heard a new sound. I was sure I’d heard it before, but all my attempts to remember ended up blank. A few seconds passed and the sound changed again to the ominous screeching.
I slowly made my way up the stairs and listened again. Whoever decided to disrupt the castle’s harmony was lurking in the east wing. Stepping as gingerly as possible on the cold stone, I headed toward the distressing, discordant notes. As I got closer, I realized that the sound sporadically echoing through the corridors was more like a scratching than a screeching.
I neared my destination and paused, overwhelmed by both dread and curiosity. As far as I could recall it was the first time that the lulling melody of the castle had been disturbed in such a brazen way. Fortunately, whatever was causing the disruption took a break; the familiar chorus of the wind and rain swept over me and gave me courage. Steeling myself for a possible attack, I thrust the door open, and... I was paralyzed by the sight.
An unusual creature sat on a table right in the centre of the room, illuminating everything around it with the warm fire-like light of its plumage. A word popped up from the back of my memory, like it had been waiting in the wings:
Phoenix.
Every muscle in my body strained, my wings lifted a little, and my heart’s rhythmic pounding quickened to a rapid allegretto.
The phoenix cocked his head, briefly caught a gaze of my eyes, and started preening. A tense minute passed. A voice inside me urged me to stay away, yet instead, I dared a timid step forward. The feathered intruder ignored me, working away as if I were not even there.
What did it want?
It was unlikely he flew there to sit on our admittedly comfy tables. Chances were he only wanted to wait out the rain, though this raised a question: How had he ended up nearby considering the hostile weather conditions? What was there ‘nearby’ anyway? Was there anything at all? It’d been so long I’d been outside. Mere faint fragments of places, faces, and voices filtered through the shroud of my memory, and I’d be damned if anything of it looked the least bit familiar. In any case, whatever this mysterious creature came here for, his demeanor was not aggressive.
Suddenly, the fabulous bird raised his head, spread his wings, and let out a long, melodious cry. It was unlike anything I’d ever heard. It fit perfectly into the castle’s symphony, echoing off the stone block walls and sending goosebumps marching down my spine and in between my wings.
I closed my mouth, and careful not to disturb him, went to sit on a chair in the corner of the room, entranced by the unexpected visitor. The phoenix watched me the entire time, as intrigued by me as I was by it.
After a moment, I let out the breath I’d been holding and broke the silence first.
“H-Hi.” The sound of my own hoarse voice made me shiver after having not been used for so long. Had it always been so raspy? I took another deep breath, closed my eyes and cleared my throat for good measure. Unfortunately, my stammer remained as I asked, “What’s your business here?”
The phoenix studied me as if in deep thought, and for a moment I thought it might not have understood me, until suddenly he spread his wings,threw his head up and started to sing. The lingering rhapsody of the bird’s voice pierced the air, flowing down the castle halls. The memory of someone important singing a very similar tune overflowed me, bringing with them long forgotten feelings of sadness.
My heart sank, and in a moment I found myself at his side, gently hugging him with my wing. Waves of warmth washed over me. To my surprise, not only did the phoenix stay with me, but he continued to perform. I stepped back, sat down, tucked my wings at my side and got comfortable, eager to hear as much as he — and the rain — would allow. My mind was engulfed in a current of long-forgotten reflections. Loss, solitude, pain. His lament subsided softly, and I looked at my new acquaintance.
“Feeling as lonely as I do?”
I was surprised by how clear my voice was when I spoke.
When he finished, he looked at me expectantly. I returned it with a sad smile, then looked out of a window: the rain was still pouring, lashing at the glass, its whispering chords shrewdly interwoven into the quiet symphony around us. The phoenix tilted his head slightly and gave me a wordless glance.
“Should I sing too?” I teased with a soft smile. My newfound companion sat down and tucked his wings at his side still looking at me with curiosity.
I faltered, unsure at first, but then again, it would be rude to not reciprocate such a lovely gesture.
“Well, I guess it’s my turn, then.”
I closed my eyes and took in the castle’s unceasing concert, soaking up the sounds that had become so casual to me. After a moment, I drew in a deep, long breath, and began to sing.
The first pitches, faint and incertain, were pretty hard for me, but gradually, as I felt my aria coalesce with the olden structure droning its own melody, I felt myself grow more confident, voice firmer. I Closed my eyes, a stream of images flooded my mind: longing,resentment, disappointment…
Regret.
Like a whole orchestra of emotions and sensations half-buried inside but waiting for the right moment to awake.
The lump in my throat made it difficult to sing but I went on, terror-stricken at the mere thought that the song’s end would end my newfound feelings as well. Already it seemed to me that I’d strained myself to the utmost when a hushed roulade reached my ears. Wide-eyed, I stared at my night guest. His tenor marvellously blended in with my contralto, gradually growing in its tempo and taking the lead. This time, however, the magical bird sang a much brighter, cheerful song.
In response to the vibrant cadences of the phoenix’ voice, new sensations arose from the chasm deep within my soul. Hope and joy flooded my heart, and as if answering them, my melody changed, seeking to embrace all the energy and enthusiasm its sibling shared. I was barely able to keep up with the accelerating pace when, suddenly, my partner slowed down and our lines merged in consonance, perfectly complementing each other.
A ringing silence fell on the castle grounds as our chant died away. Even the rain stopped alongside us. I closed my eyes again trying to wrap my head around the feelings I’d just experienced.
Why did they all sweep so suddenly over me? Why had I forgotten them so completely? Why had the phoenix come now?
I glanced towards my mellifluous companion in a desperate hope to find answers to at least some of the questions so cruelly plaguing my mind . But there were no answers.
The phoenix looked back at me, as if waiting for something.
Still fearful of disturbing the settled silence, I extended my foreleg and softly brushed a gentle hoof across my new friend’s back. The fascinating bird craned his elegant neck, replying with cooed thankfulness. I smiled weakly and stroked between his wings, arranging his feathers one by one.
For the first time in a long while, I felt relaxed.
“What’s your name?” I asked. When I received no reply, I decided to take it upon my own hooves. “May I?”
He cocked his head.
“How about…” My gaze travelled along his fiery red feathers, the dim lights that had brought me there. I smiled. “Pharos?”
He warbled a simple yet lovely tune and rubbed his head against my side in approval.
“Wonderful. Now if you promise to be a good phoenix, I should probably go back to patrolling. I have to carry on with my duty.”
…Duty.
Duty to whom? Blurry visions surfaced from the depths of my brain.
Images and sounds of us standing in front of the castle, of muffled screams in the distance ahead, of a dark figure looming above me. Anxiety slowly welling up inside of me. Then, a flash of light before my eyes.
I found myself lying on the floor when I opened my eyes. My head throbbed with pain; no wonder the contours of the room around were like in a haze. Suddenly, I felt a new weight on my shoulder, then a delicate touch of feathers on the back of my neck. In an instant, all the pain was gone and the room became clearer.
I twisted my head. The phoenix had perched upon my spine and was observing me with a careful gaze. I smiled gratefully at him and nodded.
“Wanna come with me?”
Pharos shifted a little, settling into a comfortable position and cocking his head to the side. I chuckled to myself and made my way back to the place where my patrolling had abruptly ended. As I got used to my companion, I switched to a more confident gait and noticed that even though I became somewhat heavier myself, my step had never felt so light.
* * *
Two days.
I turned at the corner and headed towards the great doors of the hall. It had been two days since I had woken up and seen none of the usual bright strokes next to me. Only a single golden feather rested lonely at the head of the bed. At first I hadn’t thought much of it. In the two weeks I’d known him, I had learned my friend was quite a wildcat — at least when it came to scratching every possible surface, which I afterwards had to polish again and again. But when the next morning came and, again, I didn’t find Pharos in the castle’s labyrinthine halls, my worries grew.
What if something happened to him? Where could he have gone? Had he decided to abandon me and leave for far more hospitable places? My brain was so concerned with his vanishing that for the first time as far as I could remember, I’d picked the wrong corridor.
Just when I’d finally gathered my bearings and re-acquainted with my old solitude, a new fear had sprouted inside of me. What if I would forget about him? The familiar outlines of doorframes and paintings flashed past me. Our rendezvous had already demonstrated to me how much you could forget in weeks… or months… How long had I been there? It did not matter now.
Only one thing did.
I rushed forward and before I knew it, a few last turns went by and I reached my destination. In front of me was a set of splendid oak-wood doors emblazoned with a carved symbol of a full moon. I swung them open, then rushed to the table, took out a pen and ink from the drawer, and began to write…
As I put the last stroke on the thick parchment, my eyes were inadvertently drawn to a window. Outside, the Moon was high, and a few stars twinkling through the misty shroud of clouds against a dark sky. I returned to my papers and was about to start rereading when a quiet screech came from behind. I froze and listened to the sound of my heart pounding wildly in my chest. I drew a long breath, closed my eyes shut, and then, I turned around.
Author's Note
Well that was a doozy to write. Originally written for a writing contest, it was very fun trying to write in a style I have little experience with. I hope you enjoyed the reading and huge thanks to my friends who helped me made this story better.
Also huge thanks to Doof, for helping me to bring this story to the English-speaking audience
