The Magic of Music

In a little town in Washington, not far from Seattle, a young man drove down the road. He traveled to the outskirts of that little town, searching for a little shop tucked away from normal society. It wasn't a shop where one could find the latest clothing trends. Or even an organic produce store. No, this shop was special.

This shop in a little town not far from Seattle was a place of magic.

Everything found there was related to some form of magic. From wands and tomes to amulets and potions, the shop was a place which collected objects of mysticism and the supernatural and sold them to any who dared test their power. At such a place as this, the young man had bought a little black book. A little black book whose magic had been used to disappear a certain high school classmate of whom this young man was jealous.

The young man finally arrived and entered Artemis and Diana's Shop of Lunar Magic. A little bell rang as he stepped through the door, alerting the keeper sitting in the back to his presence

"Welcome to my store! We have all sorts of-"

"Yes, I've been here before," he interrupted, not wanting to go through a tour of the place a third time. "When I was last here, I bought this book."

"Oh... Y-you're not here to..." her voice went to barely a whisper. "...return it, are you?" Tears began to well in her eyes.

"No, I'm not. I want to buy the rest of the set. It's supposed to come with an amulet matching the symbol on the cover. Do you still have it?" The shop keeper's head perked up and her cheerful smile returned in a flash as she looked at the book.

"Of course! I figured you'd be back so I saved it for you!" She rummaged behind her desk. "I know it's in here somewhere... Aha! Here it is!" The shopkeeper held up a necklace with a carved block of obsidian attached. In its center was an ivory crescent moon and beneath it, connected by nearly invisible threads, were three little obsidian islands. "Is this what you were looking for?"

Digit slowly grinned.

*********************

"Littlefur!" The tall creature jumped, startled by the shout. The she looked down at her escort. Rarity was looking up at her worriedly. "I've been calling you for several minutes. You've been very quiet since you left the spa. Did anything... happen?" She simply shook her head. "Is something else the matter? You seemed... distracted at Pinkie's party."

Littlefur looked away from Rarity's gaze. After a few moments, she looked back at the purple-maned pony with a glint in her eye that Rarity knew all too well. She had gotten this feeling many times from her sister; it was a look of deep thought and perhaps more than a little mischief. "Littlefur, why are you looking at me like that?" she asked nervously, backing away slowly. Littlefur grinned and cracked her knuckles and waggled them as she turned her body to face the white pony. "Stop that! You are making me quite uncomfortable." She picked up a large handful of dirt and massaged it between her fingers. Then she slowly crept, hands outstretched, toward the now pinprick-eyed Rarity. "Y-you wouldn't dare..!"

Rarity leaped backward, narrowly avoiding Littlefur's pounce. She shrieked and bolted, Littlefur hot on her hooves with soil-covered hands groping just close enough behind to put the fear of filth in her. She ran and ran, practically screaming down the road. She ran all the way to Fluttershy's house, hoping that the canary yellow Pegasus would be able to stop the creature before the shine on her coat was ruined.

"Fluttershyyyyyyyy!" The door to the cottage flew open as the Pegasus rushed outside to see what was wrong.

"Rarity! What's wrong? Did something happen?" the mare asked worriedly.

"Yes! You have to save me from... from..." That's when she realized Littlefur was nowhere in sight. "Oh no..."

*********************

Worked like a charm, Krys thought as she washed her hands in the stream. I had no idea she could run that fast! She shook her hands and wiped them on the grass to dry them. Then she stood up and stretched, glancing around for an ideal spot to be alone for a while. It wasn't long before she spied the perfect place; not far from her position was what appeared to be an apple orchard. Perfect. There shouldn't be many ponies around in there, and if one does show up, I can hide among the trees. Krys ran toward her chosen destination, eager to test the magic discovered at the bath.

*********************

"I'm bored," groaned an orange Pegasus filly.

"Me too," groaned a yellow filly with a big red ribbon.

"Me three," groaned a younger version of Rarity. The three sighed in unison. "Checker champions was a total bust. We only have a little time before sunset, so we've gotta think of something fast!"

"How about..." Applebloom said, until the wind carried something through the window of the Cutie Mark Crusaders' clubhouse. "Can you hear that?"

"Hear what, Applebloom?" asked Scoot.

"Listen. It's like a... um... a flute!" There it was again, this time like a penny whistle.

"It's probably just the wind," said Sweetie Belle. "Nothing spec--" Another, entirely different sound floated through.

"THAT wasn't the wind! It sounded like Pinkie Pie's harmonica when she led the parasprites away from Ponyville!" exclaimed Scootaloo.

"Do you think there's a band nearby?" The three exchanged several glances.

"CUTIE MARK CRUSADERS MUSIC FINDERS!" The fillies rushed outside to follow the music that periodically played.

*********************

Krys continued trying out different instruments, with each slightly larger than the last. She had gone through a couple woodwinds and reeds and was now working with strings. The spa ponies were right about her hands glowing every time she held a different imaginary instrument. By now, the sun had already dipped below the horizon, so she could see the glow much more clearly. The largest glow surrounded her hands, but there was also a slight outline of the instrument she was holding, which helped her see when she moved it around.

She took the cello she currently held and plucked a few notes. She wondered how the sound was coming from a string which didn't exist, but it was definitely there, not just in her head. A few more plucks, then a bow formed in her right hand, and she drew it across the nearly invisible lines that ran up the instrument. The tone quality was just what she would expect in the studio: not quite the best, but by no means bad. Then it faltered.

She was becoming very tired, and her fingers were beginning to cramp. It was easy to create familiar instruments, but more complex ones like the cello or flute were exhausting, especially when making the actual sounds. The outline flickered before disappearing entirely, followed closely by the glow of her hands. So she tried to form something else: a kazoo. Its simple construction made the formation easier to bear. A tiny tone eked out when she blew through it, but then the glow of her hands flashed brightly before flicking out completely. She tried to reconstruct it, but she was just too drained to manage even a guitar pick.

She moved to get up, but she felt as she had on that first night, cold and exhausted. It was a struggle to move. Still, at least she wasn't jittering like she had before. Then she saw three pairs of eyes staring at her in the moonlight. Her mind instantly flashed back to the timber wolves, and a burst of adrenaline flooded her system. She sprang up to flee.

Then fell to the ground unconscious as she spent the last of her energy.