Peace Celebrations

“Well, Miss Scale, it would seem that you are the perfect candidate for the music program here.” The admissions pony told Scale. “The head of the music department would like to hear you play before you’re admitted, though. His office is down the hall, seventh one on the right. He shouldn’t have anypony else in there right now, so just go on in once you get there.”

Scale pushed herself away from the big, oak desk, grabbed her saddlebag, and trotted out the door. She counted each of the doors and stopped in front of the seventh one. She stood outside that door for a long time before she worked up the courage to open it.

Scale had a lot riding on her acceptance into the music program at the Neutral Training Grounds. If she wasn’t admitted then she would be placed into whatever class had an opening. Scale shivered at the thought of being stuck in a class like science or math for a whole year. Music was her favorite subject and the only one she was great at.

The room that Scale walked into was surprisingly cozy. At least a dozen, well-polished instruments were hung up on walls along with framed pieces of classical music. Two overly cushioned chairs faced a desk with another overly cushioned chair behind it.

“I’m Scale.” Scale called out nervously to the seemingly empty room. “I was told to come down here to audition. Hello? Anypony here?”

“I’m in the back. I’ll be out in a sec.” A stallion’s voice called out. A chorus of crashes and bangs followed. A door, which blended in perfectly with the wall, swung open and forest green earth pony stumbled out. He tried, unsuccessfully, to tidy his blue, disheveled mane.

The stallion had the picture of a conducting baton on his flank. A pair of glasses hung from a beaded rope around his neck. He fumbled with the glasses, trying to get them up to his muzzle. Once the glasses were where they belonged, he looked for the source of the voice he had heard calling out earlier.

He noticed Scale and looked at her, puzzled. “Um, what are you here for.”

“The pony at the admissions desk said I need to play for you before I’m accepted into music program.” Scale informed him. “You are the head of the music department, right?”

“Yeah,” The stallion mumbled. “You said your name’s Scale? That’s a different one though I suppose I’m not really one to talk. I’m Mr. Ensemble by the way.

“If you’re going to audition you’re going to need something to play. I don’t see you carrying anything big enough to be an instrument so I assume you weren’t able to bring it with you from where ever you came from.  Where did you come from? Are you a Solar or a Lunar?”

Before Scale was able to answer, Mr. Ensemble started to talk again. “Ah, it doesn’t matter. Here we’re all Neutral. Though I would think you’re from the Badlands in the Lunar Republic judging from the pattern on your coat and that earing in your right ear makes me think you’re from the eastern half of the valley. That horn is throwing me off, to be honest.

“So a zebra with a horn; how did that happen? The tribes aren’t very excepting of outside especially in the eastern half. Unless you’re from the southeastern part, that would make a difference. So, Farrar, Everent, or Halen?”

“Farrar.” Scale said louder than she should have. She was surprised at how much the teacher had talked. She was even more surprised that he had been able to narrow down where she was from without her saying much of anything. “I’m from Farrar.”

“Interesting; you’re related to Fermata, aren’t you? You look just like she did all those years ago, minus the horn of course.”

“Yep; she’s my grandmare. Cyan, her son, is my father.”

Mr. Ensemble nodded his head as if to approve of Scale’s story. He glanced up at the clock on the far wall. “Look at the time! I’ve been chatting way to long.” Mr. Ensemble laughed. “What instrument or instruments do you play? I have almost everyone know to pony kind.”

“Anything with strings should do just fine. No woodwinds or brass; I don’t like ones that require you to provide air in order to work.” Scale said, thinking. “Could you just show me where you keep the instruments, please?”

Mr. Ensemble nodded. He signaled for Scale to follow him to the room he had come out of earlier. Inside was a jumble of instruments in every shape, size, and color imaginable. Scale was is heaven, minus the mess of course.

“I’ll give you an hour or so to get acquainted with your instrument of choice and prepare an original score of music. At least 50 measures long and the use of dynamics is required for it to be acceptable. There are some pieces of music paper in the corner over there if you would like to write it down.”

With those instructions, Mr. Ensemble left Scale alone in the storage room. She began to pick through the jumble of wood, metal, and plastic in an attempt to find something of use to her. It would take her almost half of her allotted time just to find a usable violin.

One hour later

Mr. Ensemble trotted back into the storage room to find it looking a lot different than how he had left it. The instruments were now neatly organized according to their type and size. Scale had found that a number of them were beyond repair which, as far as she could figure, were why they were in the room to begin with.

Scale had also found other instruments that, while they weren’t in the greatest shape, could be saved. She took bits and pieces and had repaired them. Now, each one instruments were all repaired, freshly polished, and tuned.

If Mr. Ensemble had been able to see the floor, he would have been impressed. If he had been able to find some of the instruments that he hadn’t been able to before, he would have been blown away. The fact that the room was now usable had left him in shock.

“I hope you don’t mind. I couldn’t find anything in that mess, so I cleaned it up. If you’d like, once I’m done here, I’ll put them all back how they were.” Scale said, stepping out from behind a rack of clarinets.

“No; this is wonderful. I’ve been trying to trick somepony into cleaning up this room for years and here you come and do it without any encouragement from me.” Mr. Ensemble said, recovering from his shock. “I’ll give you some more time to finish you submission. It must’ve taken you the whole hour to clean this mess up.”

Scale grabbed a violin from the rack and a bow from another pile. She pulled the bow across the taunt strings experimentally. She nodded, satisfied, and put the instrument back onto the ground.

“I only really need another minute or two if you’d like to stick around.” Scale said. She grabbed the music paper and a feather pen from the corner she had shoved it into. “Just let me set everything up in the right place and I’ll get started.”

Scale sat down on the ground, put the paper and pen in front of her, and picked up the violin again. She took a deep breath and visualized the scene she had chosen for her inspiration. Once it was firmly implanted her brain, she opened the gate that kept her magic at bay. Scale’s horn was enveloped in a black and white spiraled glow.

Pulling the bow across the strings again, Scale began her audition. The music paper glowed black and the paper glowed white before floating up into the air. Each note she played was written down without a thought.

Scale found herself at the edge of the Badlands up on the ridge of the valley. It was late July, right after the Seasons of Storms had ended and the air was full of moisture. Scale looked to the horizon and saw that it was that time of the day when the sun had yet to rise and the moon had yet to set; that grey period when it wasn’t anything yet. Even the fog that was rising out of the valley was grey.

As she continued to gaze at the horizon, Scale saw the grey begin to change to orange then red and yellow. This sunrise was the same one she had seen the morning she had left Farrar for the first time alone. It was a fond memory, surprisingly. Despite the fact that she was leaving home, she knew that someday she’d be back.

Grabbing her bags, Scale turned away from the sunrise and her home and turned towards the part of the sky that was still lost to the blackness of night. Whatever life decided to throw at her, she’d be able to take it. She was now a mare, not a little filly. She could make it in the real world, she knew she could.

Scale opened her eyes and sent the instruments that had been grabbed by her magic back to where they belonged. She let the music paper, which now had dozens of notes scrawled on it, drift to the ground next to the pen. Placing the violin on the ground, she looked to Mr. Ensemble to see what he thought.

Mr. Ensemble picked up the music paper and glanced over it. “You’re very good at multitasking, that’s for sure. This seems to be accurate. What was your inspiration for that piece? It was very good; your use of multiple instruments was also very good. I don’t believe I’ve ever had a student with skills like yours. Believe me, that’s an unusual occurrence.”

“I was thinking of the morning I left Farrar.” Scale told Mr. Ensemble. “I got up to the ridge of the valley right before the sun came up. It was one of the better ones I’ve seen and believe me that is an unusual occurrence.”

Mr. Ensemble laughed at Scale’s little joke. “Isn’t there a road out of the valley that doesn’t require one to climb the walls?”

It was Scale’s turn to laugh. “The day a Farraran takes that road is the day that Celestia and Luna return. The walls aren’t that steep anyway; I’ve been climbing them since I was a filly and so has everypony else in the village.”

“At any rate, you’re accepted into music program.” Mr. Ensemble said. He grabbed a trumpet and gave it a few experimental touts. He played a chromatic scale and then began to play an upbeat waltz.

“Thank you! I’m so glad! This is the only class I wanted to take.” Scale said, jittering like a school-filly. “The thought of getting stuck in another class has been keeping me up for the whole week.”

Mr. Ensemble finished his waltz before speaking again. “Don’t put all your eggs in one basket, sweetie. Make sure you find something else you’re interested in. Besides, the only reason I’m accepting you is because of your cleaning skills. Weather you can play or not is beside the point; you’re now my official storage keeper.

“You’re going to be in charge of keeping this room clean and organized. From what I can see, you’re pretty good at fixing instruments so that’s also your job too.”

“So, I get to spend my free time in a storage room; the place furthest away from everypony else in the school.” Scale asked. “Sign me up. I’ve been looking for an excuse to hide away. Better yet, I get to spend it around the thing I love most in the world: music.”

Mr. Ensemble gave Scale an odd look before handing her the trumpet. He turned to leave the room and Scale thought she could hear him say “bucking, perky foal,” under his breath.

Well, I suppose I’ve made my first friend here. Scale thought, sarcastically. It’s going to be a great year after all.