Chapter 1
“Splish, splash and ripples spread,
like waves of sound within my head,
Do you hear what I can hear?
Do you feel the ripples near?
I can taste the spring so vast,
and smell the water gurgling past.
But do I see what has been changed?
Or was it always prearranged?”
It's always when I become perfectly relaxed that something interrupts my solitude. Here I am, floating in the cool water of a brook with the sun on my face and the trees whispering softly in the wind. Cicadas are droning in their unsteady cadence, the hum working its way into my mind and driving all thought away. I feel completely weightless. A pleasing suspension.
That is, until I hear the voice. A blend of notes layered atop one another, the words indistinct but the tune clearly carrying into my forest retreat. It's not a bad voice by any means, but it is different - and difference is distracting.
Despite its distance, I just can't ignore it. It's like a feather in the back of my brain, tickling at the edges of my wonderful solitude. The voice is beautiful, even pleasant, but annoying.
My ears twitch traitorously toward the sound as I rise, water sluicing down my coat and splashing disharmoniously against the sounds of the forest. I frown and cock my head in the direction the song is coming from. Maybe if I was quick, I could ask her to keep it down enough to enjoy my lazy, summer days.
After all, there isn't anything for me to do. Even though I'm a nearly grown mare, I haven’t found that special something I'm good at. But really, what’s the point when I can just be here in the forest, living in its solitude - away from all the other ponies with their haughty attitudes or pity filled whispers.
A sigh escapes me and I rub my eyes. ‘No time like the present,’ as my mother would repeat so optimistically. I start forward, my hooves tapping softly against the grass below me. The grass gives slightly, springing back into place as I cross the forest floor in a swift trot. Wind rushes through the trees and sets to drying my coat, mane and tail. What I wouldn't give to be pegasus right now, immune to chill or heat. Indifferent to change.
Thankfully, the sun is more than enough to combat the tempest's breath as I trot along, following that lovely, interrupting song. Soon enough, I begin to hear the trill of birds accompanying my quarry's melody, adding yet another layer of difference to my otherwise uneventful day. I sigh theatrically to the trees, feeling their ancient weights looming above me as they sway in time to the rustle of the leaves, their creaks and groans whispering the glee of life in my ear.
"Soar as if you feel the sun,
and wander 'neath the endless blue sky,
waiting for the other one,
to take your hoof and be merry.
Dum diddily do da, dum diddily do,
Dum diddy da do da, dum diddy da do,
Hear the laughter 'cross the clouds,
Spend your time racing the hounds,
below and above you see them there,
Whispering, 'love, you're a wonderful mare.'
Doe diddily dee, dum diddly day,
Doe diddy da dee, dum diddy da day.
I—,"
"Miss Light!"
“Oh, my!” Her lilting voice becomes blissfully silent as the birds trail off. “Little wandering Current. How do you do today?"
I hold back the urge to roll my eyes. “Just... fine, Miss Light. I heard your song from the woods and was wondering if you could maybe sing a little softer?”
“Oh, yes, of course, dearie. Suppose I can’t help myself sometimes, prancin’ and floating about as I do. Wherever the wind takes me, I feel the urge to sing.” A rush of air whisks past my face and sets Miss Light to giggling away. “And call me Feather, please. We’ve been neighbors for nigh on forever, haven’t we?”
“Yes.” One problem down; now to escape. Another brush of wind slides along my coat like fingers of ice down my spine, the welcome sun rays dimming in their warmth as I turn to leave.
“Oh, ‘fore I forget, my husband’s out with Novell and bringing in the next storm. You should trot along home soon. Looks to be a nasty one,” the bubbly pegasus continued, stopping me in my tracks. “Suppose I should lock myself inside, too, ‘fore I blow away in all this wind.”
Despite my wishes, a smile slides out across my face at the very real possibility of Feather Light being whisked to the ends of the earth. Still, the comment gave me a chance to politely leave before I became mired in her cheerful questioning. “Probably. Thanks, Mrs. Light, and be safe. I’ll head back to Hoofington now.”
“By the way, I don’t suppose there’s a new mark sitting on that little flank o’ yours yet, dearie? I haven’t even thought to look.”
This was one of those questions I was hoping not to be caught in. “No... not yet.”
She was suddenly close enough to run a feather across my face, causing me to twitch away in surprise. “Don’t be so down, Current. You’ll find it soon enough... after all, you’re not the only one with trouble. It just takes some effort to find what you’re meant to do. Oh, my little colt tries so hard...”
“Y-yeah, I know.” I wince at her troubled tone. “Anyway, I kind of need to go. Sorry.”
The pegasus tsks to herself. “Not without help, I think. Fiere! Follow our little wandering Current and make sure she returns home, swift as the breeze.”
“You really don’t have to—,” I start, already knowing it’s useless to argue.
“Nonsense, I insist! As your neighbor and friend, I am responsible for keeping you safe. Besides, you know Fiere, don’t you?” A sharp trill comes from above me a second before I feel tiny bird feet on my mane. Wonderful. “Swift as the breeze, remember!”
Another trill, determined this time, followed by my sigh. “Yes, Miss Light.”
“Feather!”
“Yes, that. Bye,” I say with a tone of finality, Fiere trumpeting annoyingly in his own farewell. Birds.
Soon enough, I’m on my way, the dusty trail leading to Hoofington packed hard with dirt and small stones. My brisk pace eats up the distance as the heat of day gives way to the blustery storm, the scent of rain sharp in my mind. I crane my neck up at the sky, squinting against the wind. It wouldn’t be long now.
For his part, Fiere kept somewhat quiet, though his chortling warbles every so often were more than enough to grate on my nerves. We did know each other from my time in the forest, so the bird-brain understood I wouldn’t put up with any of his trilling business. Even so, his chirps of reprimand whenever I flag to a slow canter are helpful, I can grudgingly admit, even if we are both miserable with each other’s company.
The first few drops of the storm are just beginning to fall on top of us when my mostly soundless hoofbeats shift into a dull clip-clop against Hoofington’s cobblestone roads. Fiere grumbles melodically through his beak and buries himself into my no doubt frizzing mane.
“Oh, so you get to be nice and warm while I’m the one that freezes,” I grumble right back at him, nearing the first corner that leads to my house. As much as Mrs. Light says we’re neighbors, I live in the city proper, surrounded by everypony else.
Rain begins to fall with a swifter tempo, pitter-pattering against the rooftops all around me in an uneven staccato. The steady bink of rain against metal sounds from my left as I pass a lamppost, bouncing in time with my hoofbeats. It’s a rhythm of nature, so different from the forest ease and sway, yet still pleasant to my ears.
Of course, the moment I become completely relaxed is when things start to change. My nose squishes up against a warm body, Fiere instantly squawking in surprise as I bounce off and fall backward. The sound of clattering eyeglasses accompanies the impact, out of rhythm with everything else. Cold stone and water shock through my flank, a burst of disorientation hitting me as I try to figure out what exactly just happened.
“Oh, haystacks, I’m soooo sorry!” my assailant cries out in a rough, yet decidedly feminine voice. “Are you okay? I didn’t even see you there!”
“Yeah, me neither,” my automatic response tumbles out of my mouth while I try to fling my mane out of my eyes.
“Here, let me help you up,” she says, just before I feel a hoof grabbing and pulling me to a standing position. A faint hint of dozens of mingling perfumes wafts past my nose. “Sorry about that. New in town, don’t know where to look yet.”
“Happens all the time, don’t worry about it.” Fiere’s still in my hair, of course, tangled up in the strands, but mercifully unmoving. He chortles with displeasure as I attempt to help him out. Meanwhile, the rain increases in its frequency, pelting down unforgivingly and souring my mood even further.
“Nah, I feel bad. Really,” the mare continues. “Oh, hey, are you that pony with the missing cutie mark?”
I freeze, bewildered by the sudden change in topic. “I, uh, no. That’s not me.”
“Oh, I just thought... you’re kind of old...er. Anyway, you ever think of music? It’s how I got this little diddy right here, you know.”
A sigh escapes me as I give up on Fiere’s prison of wet locks. “Look, it’s raining and I kind of need to get home before I’m missed.”
“Ah, yeah, you’re right.” The pony chuckles, pitching her voice in a conspiratorial whisper. “Just think about what you like for your cutie mark, though, really. It helps. See ya ‘round, filly.”
“Yeah, thanks.” I smile. Not if I can help it.
The mare’s hoofbeats turn to go, leaving me standing under the sheets of rain with a half-drowned bird in my hair, when I cringe. It’s not your business, Current, just leave it alone.
But I’d want someone to do the same for me
. She’ll figure it out, just go!
My teeth grit together and I finally relent. “Wait! Hey!”
“Huh?” she calls from the other side of the street.
“You forgot your glasses!”
Even from my side of the small avenue, the sound of a hoof smacking against her forehead is audible. “I’m just bucking zero today, aren’t I?”
You’re not the only one, I think as the tell-tale chime of magic sweeps away the glasses. With that blindingly cheerful thought in mind, I head home and out of the rain to remove my equally annoyed passenger.
*****
“You know, Fiere, if you want to impress a mate, you might work a bit on that dreadful little tune you keep whistling,” I chastise the little bird from my comfortable spot on a grassy knoll.
Fiere is, of course, unimpressed by my words as he flits about somewhere above in the tree I’m leaning against. He sends a sharp whistle at me I can only translate as ‘incomprehensibly rude’ before perching himself on the top of my head. I entertain the thought of batting him away, but a familiar lethargy saves me the effort. Besides, why would I ruin a perfectly good evening with something other than relaxation?
The crickets are out after the rain, sawing a sweet lullaby while the sun leaves for the day, the remnants of its warmth coating the grasses beneath me. Soon enough the night’s breeze would rustle through the plains surrounding Hoofington, sending up a pattern of ebb and flow wherever it blew. Yes, this is where I prefer to be, away from the jarring noise and moving crowds. I just want things to stay put so I can enjoy them.
But is this what I like?
The unwelcome thought drifted into my mind, bringing with it a cloud of doubt. Is this what I like? Relaxing in the midst of nature is enjoyable and I do go out of my way to make sure I’m away from other ponies, but if this is what I like, why don’t I have a cutie mark yet? Obviously doing nothing isn’t my special talent - so what is?
“Why do I care, anyway?” I mumble to myself.
Fiere whistles questioningly.
“Nothing... just thinking out loud.” My ears twitch as a new sound interrupts the night’s symphony. “Hmm. Sounds like the Lantern Festival’s starting up. I wonder what kind of food they have this year...”
Though the subtle tang of plant life has been wafting through my nose and setting my stomach to rumbling, the combined aroma of pie, sweets, and other assorted treats from the festival is only making things worse. I sigh, thinking of the taste of apples on my tongue, the tart crispness in their skin and the sweetness inside.
My stomach groans again, tortured by my thoughts. Would it be worth it to go into town now and suffer through that terribly different music? The beat of the drums that clashed so rhythmically with the keening guitars and plinking pianos were enough to drive me out of my mind, despite their melodic tune. What was wrong with just listening to the night play its song while the townsfolk let their lanterns go, listening in awed silence? It would be so much more... peaceful.
“Boo!”
My eyes snap open as I roll forward gracelessly, coming to rest on my face with my hindquarters securely stationed in the air. Laughter sounds light in my ears from the direction of the tree I had been leaning against, the subtle tone of genuine enjoyment reassuring my wounded pride that the pony wasn’t making fun of me. Even so, my face fills with flame while Fiere scolds the culprit from above in sharp blats and whistles.
“Now that was funny,” a familiar mare’s voice calls out between subsiding chuckles. “I’ve never seen somepony roll away before!”
I recover from the spill and glare in her direction. “Hasn’t anypony ever told you it’s rude to sneak up on somepony?”
“Yup, all the time,” she replies unrepentantly, walking closer to me. “Whatcha doing up here all by yourself? Got a sweet party going on down in town, you know. Lots of decorations, awesome food and great beats.”
I sneeze as soon as I smell those conflicting perfumes again, the heady concoction almost enough to make me faint. “I prefer being alone. It’s quieter.”
“Out here in the middle of nowhere? What’s so fun about this place?”
“It’s not about having fun,” I say defensively.
The mare sighs. “You know, you sound just like someone I know. She’s always going on about how life isn’t about fun, how I need to be more serious about everything.”
A smirk creeps across my face despite myself. “I can’t imagine why.”
“Oh, ho, ho, so clever,” she replies good naturedly before sobering up. “But see, I think she’s wrong and she knows that she’s wrong, too. Sure, there are times when life can be boring and you need to deal with, but what’s the point in the rest of it if you’re not enjoying yourself? As high strung as she is, even she’s doing something she wants to do.”
“But I enjoy being alone,” I blurt out. “I, uh, I mean, I do like being out here by myself, listening to the crickets and... the wind.” The mare remains silent and I can feel my face growing red. “You probably think I’m weird, don’t you?”
“No!” she says, the sound of her hoof running scratching her head audible over the faint music from town. “No, I was just thinking.”
I barely refrain from making another snarky comment. “Thinking of what?”
“Thinking of how even up here, there’s a certain kind of beat.” She went quiet for a moment. “Huh. It’s weird, I never really thought about it like this. I-.”
Something beeps next to me, causing us both to jump. “What’s that?”
“Oh haystacks, it’s almost time for me to start.” She coughs awkwardly. “Pardon my language. Anyway, hey, I gotta go. Sorry.”
I shake my head, feeling a bit... disappointed? “It’s fine.”
“You know, if you want, you can come with me. I gotta work, but you and I can enjoy the Festival after I’m done.”
“I actually have to go home before my parents start to miss me,” I reply apologetically.
“Oh, okay,” the mare says. “Well, how about this—I’m having a day off tomorrow to do whatever while the Festival wraps up. I could show you a few things that you might— err, I’m being weird, aren’t I?”
I laugh and shake my head. “Just a bit, but that’s okay. I’m a little weird, too.”
“Yeah, so, I’ll be over at the music booth most of the day. Come by if you wanna.” Another beep comes from her direction. “Aw rats, I’m going to be late. See ya around, filly!”
“My name’s Current!” I call out after her as she gallops away from my sanctuary.
“Awesome! Mine’s...” the rest of her words are drowned out by the sudden, crackling boom of fireworks exploding.
I wince away from the sudden noise, a primal part of me begging to put hoof to ground and run as far away as possible. The feeling is one I’m familiar with and I let it go, the fear sliding away like rain down my coat. My mind is suddenly preoccupied with other thoughts, anyway.
Fiere lands on my head, whistling disgruntledly, but I ignore his usual grumpiness as I walk the familiar path back to my house. Trot forward thirty paces, turn left, walk forward twenty, turn right, home, I idly think. A peculiar emotion comes over me—thoughtfulness combined with a strange eagerness. I want to do something other than just relax. But why?
More importantly, why am I humming along to the beat of the newest song?
Chapter 2
So many voices. The market square is filled with them, all crawling atop one another like little insects, a buzz in my ear. It sets my teeth on edge. I'm not normally one for crowds, but today is different. Today, I'm making an exception.
After all, what harm can one more attempt at mingling with all the other ponies do?
Somepony bumps into me at that moment, sending me careening to the side at the suddenness of the collision. I manage to save myself the embarrassment of the fall but that doesn't help me any, now that I'm totally lost. My assailant mutters a quick apology before moving on, disappearing in the buzz of the crowd. I can feel bodies pressing in around me, the scent of sweat mixing with the last of the pies and sweets. It’s stifling, confusing, and different.
I hate it. Why am I out here? Is it worth it? Yes, it is.
I mercilessly stamp down any doubts, my thoughts racing through my head a mile a minute. I’m not about to turn around and go through this awful crowd again. Besides, I should be close to my destination. Key words 'should be'.
Luckily, Fiere trumpets a whistling song at that moment, serving as a goal. From the sound of his grumbling serenade, he's a few meters in front of me and I move forward accordingly, flinching uncomfortably at every clip-clop of hooves near me. The cobblestone of the market is hot beneath my own hooves, yet another problem I wouldn't have if I were in the forest instead of in town.
Another guiding chirp reaches me, clear ahead, mingling with the soft trickling of running water. I nose my way forward, head down to hide behind my mane. It falls about my face, twitching slightly in the wind and tickling my nose.
A cool mist begins to play about me, teasing at my coat and no doubt sending my hair into an unruly frizz. I stop at another beseeching blat from Fiere, the brisk scent of the fountain reshoring my shambling confidence. I turn my face up to catch a bit of the mist on my neck, cooling down from the press of the crowd, even if I am still technically surrounded.
My guide jumps on my head suddenly, pecking idly at the strands of hair in front of my face while I think. If I’m at the fountain, then that means I’m in the center of the square... so if I want to find the music booth—
A sharp, piercing pain hits me with a wave of sound, high pitched and keening, sending my companion fluttering into the air with shock. I recognize the screech instantly, having grown up around an experimental speaker my dad kept at home. Thankfully, the unpleasant sound shuts off abruptly after a few seconds.
“Sorry, everypony!” a familiar voice calls out guiltily over the grumbling filling the market square. “My bad.”
Annoyed complaints from a few of the ponies nearby answer the mare’s apology, though one stallion attempts to defuse the tension in the air. “That’s alright, Vinyl. Your music is worth the occasional broken eardrum.”
A pit of nervousness runs through my chest as a few in the crowd begin to lightheartedly chortle. Oh no...
“Oh, thanks a ton, Easy. You—”
“Still, your music does cause the occasional broken eardrum by itself, DJ,” the stallion continues with a grin plain in his tone, sarcastic emphasis on the last word. The grumbling disappears in a haze of chuckles, but I’m more focused on my fear rapidly blooming into reality.
I start breathing a little faster, my mind flashing back to the conversations yesterday. My rudeness, bluntness, even revealing how I feel... and I was talking to Vinyl Scratch the entire time? Here in Hoofington, she’s one of the more popular musicians—somewhat of a celebrity since she used to live here before her lifestyle took her elsewhere. Even I know of her, despite not having listened to her records.
Something swishes through the air, drawing me out of my panicked thoughts. My ear flicks toward the sudden sound and, before I can react, the mysterious object splashes into the fountain beside me, droplets of cold water peppering my coat. Fiere squawks in surprise, still flapping somewhere above me.
“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry!” Vinyl gasps, her hoofsteps trotting closer. “Wait! You’re that filly! Current! Oh, wow, I totally need to watch what I do before I do it. Octy tells me that all the time.”
I grimace, hoping nopony else is looking at me. It’s a futile hope, of course, since a celebrity recognizing me is enough to send more than a few voices whispering in surprise. I try to shrink in on myself, but Vinyl’s disorienting perfumes finally hit my nose just as her hoofsteps stop in front of me.
“Now where is that screwdriver?” the mare continues, the sound of splashing reaching my ears. “Hmm, there it is. So, yeah, what’s up Current? You here to hang out?”
“Um. I don’t know,” I say. I really don’t know why I’m here and my head is starting to spin despite the fountain’s coolness and I can’t think and— “It’s getting really hot...”
A stallion’s heavy hoofbeats begin clicking against the cobblestone nearby. “Whoa there, you look like you’re about to fall over. Vinyl, help me bring her to the booth.”
The splashing stops. “What? Why, what’s wrong? Oh, wow, you look really pale.”
“Ju-just dizzy.” My mouth feels like it’s moving through molasses. “Not used to these... crowds.”
“Hey, c’mere,” the stallion says with concern tinging his tone. “We’re going to put you in the shade before you pass out.”
I nod, gulping and attempting to resist the urge to throw up. “Need help. Can’t see.”
A strong hoof takes hold of my shoulder, guiding me closer to the stallion. “I’ll help. Come along. Vinyl, don’t crowd so close to her. She’s stifled enough as it is.”
“Well sorry for being concerned!” the mare snaps at the stallion before a flutter of wings sounds from above. “Hey, what are you doing? Stop it! I’m trying to help!”
With the stallion’s gentle touch as a guide, accompanied by Fiere’s audible pecking, we quickly manage to reach what I imagine is the music booth. Behind us, the buzz of the marketplace resumes now that I’m no longer such a spectacle, though there were more than a few snorts of amusement at Fiere’s heckling of Vinyl.
I sigh as we move into the shade, the unwelcome nausea evaporating slowly from my stomach. It’s cool here, the muted hum of a fan sending bursts of air through my mane and along my coat. The curious remnant of mingling colognes fill the area, along with the lacquer of new instruments. Soon enough, Fiere lands on my head with a grumble, no longer amused with attacking my newest... friend?
“Alright, you should be fine now.” The stallion’s voice is smooth and comforting, absent of the sarcasm he had directed at Vinyl earlier. “Just rest for a few more minutes before you try to walk. I know how hot it can get here in Hoofington, especially after the rain yesterday.”
“Definitely one of the bigger reasons I was glad to leave,” Vinyl puts in dryly. “So, uh, sorry I didn’t notice you were kind of uncomfortable out there. I’m sorta used to the press of a bunch of bodies all in one place—comes with the territory of being a DJ, you know. Good thing Easy was here.”
Just the thought of being back in the mass of ponies was enough to make me cringe. “I’m not good with crowds. Thank you.”
The stallion laughs from my left. “No need to thank me, Current. I’ve got two little brothers and a couple of sisters who react the same way, so I know what crowds do to little ones. Name’s Rest Easy, by the way. Seems you already know Vinyl.”
“Um,” I respond uncertainly. “I actually didn’t know who she was until just a few minutes ago.”
“Huh?” both of them reply at once, surprise evident in their tones.
I hang my head, trying to hide behind my mane, to Fiere’s annoyance. The bird adjusts himself with a quiet flap and resumes his grumbling while I try and think of what to say.
To my surprise, Easy laughs again, genuine amusement laced through the sound. “Oh, that’s rich. You didn’t recognize Vinyl? Ha! That should deflate her ego a bit.”
“Hey! I don’t have an ego!” the mare replies heatedly, the sound of her horn activating like a fizz of soda pop.
“Oh really?” Easy’s response is filled with amused doubt. “Then that time a fan recognized me over you didn’t bother you. You just wanted to sulk the rest of the day for fun. By the way, move the speaker over there.”
Vinyl growls reluctantly, the sound of a heavy object bumping against metal just audible. “Okay, maybe I have a little ego.”
Despite myself, a small snort escapes me in time with Easy’s own.
“Anyway,” the mare’s voice was filled with warning, “like he said, my friend’s name is Easy. He’s a musician I know through another mutual friend. Plays the violin, or so he says. Honestly, the only time I ever see him sawing anything is when he’s sleeping.”
My ears perk up at that—violins are my favorite instruments, though no one around here besides my dad ever played one. It was so peaceful listening to those lonely strings, free and uncluttered, just like nature’s layered song. Every day my dad woke up, pulled out his violin and began to play. It was always the same tune, always the same melody of words. Unchanging, unaffected by summer or spring, winter or fall. The same...
“Whoa, whoa, whoa, no need to tear up,” Easy starts concernedly. “I actually do play the violin.”
I can’t control the tears welling in my eyes, a sick feeling forming in the pit of my stomach. “It’s not that. I’m sorry.”
A gentle hoof brushes my mane out of my face. “Hey, now, s’okay. You’re a little shook up, but you’re gonna be fine. Hmm. Vinyl, grab my case.”
“Yeah, okay,” the mare responds, strangely subdued. “Here.”
Easy grunts his thanks, the click of locks snapping open loud even over the marketplace’s buzz. An aroma of maple and spruce, both sweet and rich at the same time, fills the booth. It’s hypnotizing, nostalgia coursing through my mind as I involuntarily breathe in deeper. There’s a plink of strings, my sensitive ears flicking at the minute discrepancies in tune, followed by silence. Then Easy begins to play.
“Whisper now your tithing fears,
that lie ‘tween your little ears,
speak to me and listen close,
for though we stand appose,
I am here for you to see,
so I whisper such to be.
And sing. My head is spinning again, this time with memories. The melody of string and bow, sweet bitterness sliding from the instrument in a constant stream of heartfelt legato sends aches through my heart. The spectral, riverlike melancholia flows from the instrument in Easy’s hooves, his voice smooth and hopeful one moment, deep and coarse the next. I can hear a simple smile in his song, the joy of life woven throughout.
“Lift your heart through the endless sky,
fly ‘round the clouds way on high,
Spin round in the fields of green,
feel no fear of the unforseen,
for I am here for you to see,
so I whisper such to be.
Speak through the days of deep,
‘neath the waters of dreamland sleep,
whisked away through the torrent,
wish for me and I’ll be I warrant,
for I am always here for you to see.
So I whisper such to be.”
The stallion finishes his song on a last, keening note, his voice a whisper. A warm, fuzzy feeling envelopes my heart, the words resounding in my head. Even if it is just another of his songs, it feels like he was speaking directly to me. The passion in both his performance and vocals leaves me breathless.
It’s then that I notice the insect-like buzzing of the marketplace has fallen silent. Only the gurgling fountain pierces the quiet with its joyful splashes; even the birds have ceased their whistling melodies.
Suddenly, somepony stomps the ground and the applause starts, slow at first but building up into what feels like a stampede. It’s enough to send a vibration through the world and give me a headache.
The cheers die down enough for Easy’s voice to be heard. “Thank you, thank you! Glad you all like it! It’s just something I came up with a few days ago.”
“I think it’s grand!” a voice in the crowd calls out, to more applause.
“Well, that’ll be five bits per pony then!” Easy responds with a clear grin in his tone.
Laughter ripples through the crowd and the noise of bartering and motion resumes. I draw in a deep breath and let it out in a ragged sigh, glad to not be the center of attention again. Even with the fan, I can feel the sweat sticking in my fur and mane.
“So... did you like it?”
Easy’s voice startles me, almost sending me into a tumble with its proximity. Fiere squawks, wings flapping as he tries to stabilize himself on my mane. I can smell the scent of the stallion’s violin on him, but there is another aroma overpowering that, some deep scent that sends my mind fluttering away like a swarm of disorganized butterflies.
It takes all my concentration to respond. “Y-yes. It was... so...” I flounder for words.
“Magical?” Vinyl puts in, sarcasm dripping from the word as she continues setting up.
I nod fiercely. “Yes! It sounded like magic! It was so mournful and at the same time so... sweet.”
“Oh, yeah? Please, continue, continue,” the stallion says, sounding pleased with himself.
My fluttering mind struggles to come up with anything more to say. Fortunately, Vinyl is more than capable of supplying her own commentary.
“The last few lines were sloppy, there was too much power in your strokes and I think you might have missed a note right at the beginning,” the unicorn celebrity pronounces flatly. “Nerves, probably.”
Easy hissed in a breath. “Ah, you wound me, Vinyl. Nopony’s perfect.”
“You sure try to act like it,” she replies in repartee, banging wood against the cobblestone. “Oops. Anyway, not my kind of music, but it wasn’t terrible. Octy could play it better, though.”
A question springs to my mind. “Who’s ‘Octy’?”
There are more plinks of strings being tuned as Vinyl responds. “Oh, she’s this super cool pony I met back in college. Totally one of the best musicians in Equestria—plays in all kinds of frou frou, high class dinners and social events. Bit of a snob on the outside, but with a soft, nougat-y core on the inside. Got a flank like you wouldn’t belie—”
“Vinyl!” Easy admonishes, the screech of hooves against strings setting my teeth on edge. “She’s a filly!”
“Oh, right, heh. Sorry.” The unicorn sounds embarrassed.
Easy clears his throat. “As the rude little DJ was saying, Octavia, that’s her full name, is one of our mutual friends. She was actually the reason Vinyl and I met. At one of those ‘frou frou, high class dinners’, wasn’t it?”
“Ugh, don’t remind me.”
I can just imagine the mare’s boredom at an event like that. I had to attend a few of them back when dad was... still playing. Before I can continue down that old trail of memories, a peck from Fiere draws my attention back to the conversation.
“...and you made such a nice young mare of yourself, too. You should take more tips from Octavia, V. She’s a smart one,” Easy continues as if lecturing a student. “At any rate, Octavia is a master cellist who’s played at quite a few events, including last year’s Grand Galloping Gala.”
Vinyl guffaws. “Oh, yeah, wish I could have been there.” The unicorn clears her throat, imitating a posher, high class accent. “‘And this outrageous pink pony actually asked me to play the Pony Pokey! The Pony Pokey! Oh, it was dreadful. And don’t get me started on the way one of that... that unprofessional mare’s friends absolutely ruined the Gala in front of the Princess. The Princess, Vinyl, of all Equestria! I almost died!’”
“Yes, that’s our Octavia,” Easy says with a long-suffering sigh. “So how about you, Current? What do you like to do?”
Normally that would be one of the questions I’d hate to answer, but for some reason I don’t feel embarrassed or self-conscious. Maybe it’s the way he asked, as if he were generally curious, rather than asking about my lack of cutie mark. Still, what can I say—that I don’t like being in a noisy place like I am now, surrounded by ponies I don’t really know?
“I... don’t know,” I reply instead, hiding behind my mane again. “I just haven’t found anything that I like to do. I don’t even know what my cutie mark could be.”
The booth is silent save for the bustle of the crowd and the fountain’s sputtering fizz. I can feel my face starting to heat up. Did I say the wrong thing? Are they going to make fun of me? Oh, goddesses, what if they tell me to leave? The more I think about the last, actually, the more it appeals to me. If I leave now, maybe they’ll forget about me and I’d be back in the forest alone, away from all this embarrassment and—
“Well, have you thought about music?” Easy asks, surprising me out of my thoughts. “I don’t mind helping you if you want to try. Vinyl and I have a few hours before we need to perform. Otherwise we’d just stand here trading barbed quips back and forth.”
Tears fill my eyes, unbidden again. “I... I’d like that.”
“Well, that’s the first time anypony’s ever fell into tears of joy when I said I’d help them,” Easy says in gentle amusement.
“But not the first mare you’ve ever made cry,” Vinyl replies dryly.
Easy snorts. “Shut up and help me, V. I have a feeling this is going to be fun.”
I certainly hope so.
