//------------------------------// // Book of Harmony, Canto 4 // Story: Fallen-Song // by Chicago Ted //------------------------------// With spoken words so hopeful, Luna’s fear Would dissipate, soon be replac’d with cheer, Or something like it. “And besides,” he said, “You’ve made your vow to me, and you’d adhere To each one of its words – e’en if we’re dead, We’ll not let such a fact to loose and spread Throughout our minds. I soon will take the lead, And you shall come, and we shall get ahead Of anything that dar’s t’ oppose – agreed?” She nodded her assent. “So now take heed Upon the path before us – follow to The end; ’tis rather simple, yet we need To make haste – ” “E’en in face o’ what she told you?” “O, Solar Rain? What she said’s nothing new; I pray she is correct about the fact That we walk lonely up this hill, but true, I fear that we do not, so such a pact Between us two ensures the artifact Is used I’ th’ right way. Now, shall we go? We can speak more along the way.” His tact Betraid his hurried haste, so Luna’d know To travel ’long with him, and not too slow. They met the sun again; howe’er, this time, He did not cower back from pain – to show His weakness at this point, in such a clime He’d grown familiar with, was a crime. Besides, he surely knew that cooling shade Would come around to the two in due time. But then she would remember, as they made Their way around, the darker side would fade Into a thinner strip. It signal’d where They were, but Luna too was quite afraid That soon they’d have no dark for them to share. And worse, as they went higher up, the air Would heat up greater than the far-neath ground. And even if, she thought, I do not care About the clime or climb, I’ve truly found My guide is weak – but who am I to sound A word to voice my pain? I’ll sooner keep My silence as we climb upon this mound. And soon I will awaken from my sleep Call’d death. I just need focus not how steep The climb may be, nor how far I have come – And then she err’d, and saw the drop was deep, Much deeper than she found before, and from Then on, she kept her gaze up, not become So frighten’d of the all-too-likely fall. To take her mind off it, she felt the sum Of hot air. “Let us make our way, be done With sweating like a water-fall.” But none Of them would take the step – frozen in place, They found the slightest movement nary fun – E’en with the goal within their sight, the pace They’d travel with would not quite be a race. With each step they would take, they could retreat Two more, or even three, until the space Between the two and down would vanish. Th’ heat Would then consume them, driving out the sweet Taste of their victory. But they’d not dwell Upon such thoughts so grim – they would not eat The crow so soon, and even if she fell Off th’ edge some time ago, that painful spell Did not dissuade the two from venturing Onto the peak. ’Twas not that he could tell, But th’ baker had within his gut a thing He never could explain. He heard it sing, But not with hunger – rather, something odd Was coming forth – whatever could it bring? And when would they meet? As the two would trod, He kept his mind so focust on the broad Range of dangers that he could face. Would he Encounter dragons? What if he should prod At something that’d give way? If he’d not see It coming, he praid that it’d not take glee In causing pain before his coming fate. And what would Luna do when on this spree She’d be alone? Of all, he’d mostly hate Th’ imagination of what would await The Lunar-Princess. He got her this far Without a fail – and now, at any rate, He ought to finish what he started. Par With qualities his family would mar N’ at all, he swore he’d see her to the end. No matter what would come, or what could mar The cliffside path ahead the two, he’d send The threat away however. He would lend His treasur’d life, if that was what it took. “I wonder how much further til we wend To th’ top o’ th’ mountain,” said he. “I’m mistook If I would say that we’ve not much.” “But look!” She pointed with a wing. “Mind not the fog That blocks our view – we can still overlook Th’ entire land. We needn’t even jog To reach the top, for we see not a dog Nor bird nor tree nor anypony near. It’s just us two, and though the path may clog, That much is just another setback, dear, And for that much you do not need a seeër.” “But even so,” he would at last confess, “I sense a coming danger, one that’d veer Us off the path and to our doom – unless We stop it.” “Do you know what sort of mess We now approach?” “I cannot say for true. That much is all I know about the stress. Forsooth, I really haven’t other clue!” She would assuage, “I’m sure you have no view Much better than you, baker, would describe. If that enumerat’s the record, do Not panic – I can oversee this tribe Of two.” “I hope your powers would not bribe Your strength,” he said – and then he spoke no more. His throat still hurt, he wanted still t’ embibe The rarest treasure – water – anymore. He suffer’d constantly, because the poor Guide realiz’d how long it had been when last He took a drink. And now, his tongue was sore From much the same dryness that plagu’d the past. And furthermore, to think, across the vast Height of this mountain, there were no more trees To indicate a source? He was aghast At such a revelation – then a breeze Would break his concentration with such ease. He shiver’d as before – e’en with the sun And its heat beaming down, the wind would tease Him on the uphill mound-climb. O what fun It was to bear against it! He was done With folly-weather, and he had to rest Someplace where they would never be disturb’d. Such places were so few, he thought it best To stick much closer to her. As her guest, He yet had some restraint, but that would thaw When heat pict up again. He then regrest Away from her, removed his cloak. She saw How hot he was, and with her wings, she’d draw Its coolness, which safeguarded her dear guide. The winds blew by, and with it all its raw Heat. Then she found a cave, within the side O’ th’ cliff. With no more choices, she then pried Their way within. The darkness there would cloak The two, until her magic horn had tried To light th’ interior. Soon the place awoke With sharper rocks from down the roof, which broke With just the slightest touch. He lookt around, And found barely a place to sit. “What joke Is this?” he askt aloud. “This stony ground Does poke me in my – ” “As you might have found,” She’d interrupt, “this cave is undisplac’d By anyone who’s come this way. No sound Does echo through its halls. We may have fac’d A dragon last time we were here, but bas’d On such a time, I think us safe right here.” He stampt a hoof, and heard it as it trac’d The cave. No other sound would fault – he’d hear It otherwise. He said, “It would appear That you are right. But down where shall I lie?” “I’ll answer that!” And with such a severe Swing of her leg, she knoct aside the dry Sharp stones, which made a clearing for th’ ally. He rested on his belly, took some air, And let it out ’n a rather silent sigh. ’Twas dark and cold, but not as cold as there Outside – the wind would enter not. The pair Were safe and sound, so far as they could tell, Fro’ th’ elements. With that settl’d, the mare Reclin’d as well beside her guide, and fell Upon the harden’d ground. “We’d have to dwell Here for some time,” she reckon’d. “On this pass, The winds are ruthless; I have not a spell T’ eliminate the threat.” Forsooth, alas, As she’d articulate, a gust would mass Outside the cavern, making exit quite Impossible. The land could still harass The pair, e’en as they shelter’d from its sight In total darkness sans a blink of light. The baker praid that this was all it’d do – And furthermore, the Keeper of the Night Watch the mouth o’ th’ cavern, so the two Could well avoid some further danger. True, She had the power and vim to shape the gale Around them both – and yet, the princess blue Had only so much magic – she might fail And seal their fates. Even her starry tail Would become ragged in the blast of sand, As she found out at one point. Thus, the stale Air of the cave would be their haven, and There simply was no changing that. Unplann’d, He broke the intervening silence. “Shall We speak of even sough, or will this land Curse us both if we do?” He spoke so small, And yet his words were grander much than all Equestria. So she would decree, “I say There’s nothing that this land can do – no fall So high, nor sandstorm blinding, can delay Us for all time – so why not speak? The way Is cut off, merely for the moment now.” “I’ve told you of my time, and you’d display To me the same. We know each other – how Much more to tell? If only you’d allow A lie – I could conjure a tale that’d knock You back upon your tail; I would endow You with fantastic tellings – ” “But such talk Compar’s not to what’s happen’d on our walk. So tell me – what more is there of you?” He Had nary answer – not at first. He’d lock His maw whilst he would think about what she Would next hear. Finally, he gave up. “We Would be most entertained if you told Of yourself first,” he said to her. “You see, My life is unremarkable, and old As you are, you should have much more in fold.” Said Luna, “Be that as it may, I’m sure You’re still left some excitement – so be bold! Speak more about your past! Perhaps our cure Is hidden in your words.” “But on this tour I’ve told you ev’rything – about my mark, About my family, e’en about th’ allure – Who was she? Sark’e! – who would never hark The fact that I had married be such stark Indication that I’d forsake my wife. And then again I’d find her, little bark And nary bite. Of course, you know that strife, As I had told you earlier. Why, my life Is unremarkable. What more should I Say?” Luna sigh’d – at least her time was rife With such adventure, e’en discounting why She was here with him. “Whilst I pray the sky Subside with its assault, I shall invoke Another point within my living. Aye, ’Tis not one I’d’ve told before. I’ve spoke It to my sister, true, but make no joke: What I shall tell to you – ” And then she saw The winds outside had died down. She would poke The mouth behind her, feel the air sans flaw, And know that ev’rything was still. Her jaw Would jut down – when she notic’d, she would shut It with a hoof. He, too, would hang his maw At such a sight. “But still,” he told her, “what Were you about to say?” And Luna’d strut To th’ exit, but she turn’d around and spake, “’Twas most embarassing. At a banquet In a Hearths-Warming past, we had a drake Invited over, as a gesture. He’d take His time in coming over – when he did Arrive, we somehow cover’d by mistake The entire venue. Soon we all were rid Of his presence – and they’d answer no bid T’ return. A shame indeed – we bear alone The blame.” The baker laught aloud, amid Her words. “Such silliness fro’ th’ Lunar throne! Of course, I envy not, but you have thrown Such jollity – ” he could not end his phrase Before he burst again in laugher. “You were prone To clumsiness, both you and sister. Raise The sky whilst you’re ahead!” “I take it praise, Then?” “Yes indeed!” A moment longer, then He’d catch his breath. “Though now, the solar rays Do beckon me t’ approach and leave – and when I do, and when I leave behind this den, We’ll not stop – ever – ’til we reach the end.” He stept, but something far beyond his ken Would stop him in his place. “What sort of trend Is this?” he askt aloud. “Could you please vend A bit of magic?” Luna tried her horn – And yet, no matter what, she’d never lend A bit of help to her guide. “I’d not scorn You quite so soon,” she said, “for I have sworn Your safety for your guidance – yet it’d seem We must part ways here. I shall not adorn My words with sugarcane – this dual team Must now become just one. The mountain’s scheme Has chosen you, but not I, to stay here For some cause unknown.” Luna’s tears would stream From down her eyes, as she would realize, near The top, they’d have to separate. “But fear Not, Princess Mine!” he cried – and he would shove The entrance – yet it never would appear Even one iota out the way of Him and effort his. Then he lookt above And saw his cutie mark, engraved there O’erhead the pend. It fit there like a glove. He sigh’d. “This is the end for me, I dare To say,” he said. “I do not mean to scare, But you were right, the mountain’s chosen me To stay. I pray that you’d not linger, stare At me – what point is there, when I’m not free Again? You think I’ve still a chance to flee?” “Nay, not at all,” said Luna. “But I pray That your return is too at hoof. Your glee, Your guidance, and your loyalty, I say, Are most valuable. I’d not give away Such treasures quite so soon, but all the same – ” He merely nodded. “Yes, and sans delay You should take leave.” “But this delay’s no game,” She answer’d. “Tell me, dear guide – have we came This way entire to split apart so close To th’ end? I cannot free you – such a shame – But tell me more of you, whilst such a dose Of that nostalgia strik’s you. You’d engross Me with your ev’ry word, as much as I Would do to you, as you say. These cosmos Are never always fair, this is no lie; I’ll miss you terribly, as true as th’ sky Above so blue and bright. I’ll know I’d fail In setting forth upon this quest – so nigh We came as well!” She could not see through th’ veil Of tears that clouded up her eyes. She’d ail With melancholy so severe, she’d keep Her place before the cave. No sand so stale Could make her cry like this, nor lack of sleep Produce results – for she was far too deep Within the friendship. “Look to th’ brighter side,” He said. “Without me, you could fly and leap About without a thought about me. Pride Yourself upon your wings – the feather’d ride Could take you to the peak, and even more, If you had magic quite enough inside To teleport your way there, then this chore Of yours is nought!” These thoughts, just as before, Would tempt the princess – yet each time she’d use Those things, it gave her drawbacks that she’d swore She never had. “Much as I’d like, I’ll refuse All th’ same,” she told him. “You have seen the clues About th’ effects upon my form. My wings Grant flight, and swift at that, but I’d abuse The feathers with the sand, ’mong other things. So flight is right out, I would think. – Which brings Me to my magic – O my head does pound To think about its use! The magic springs Quite little nowadays, and I have found It gives me quite a headache. E’en the ground Within the cave, to light it, gave some pain. And teleporting, like you said, is bound To use far more than simple light.” Her mane Had lost its shimmer, and deflated – slain By grief and sadness. “Have you more to say? I should leave rather soon, before the strain Of time becomes too much.” “If you’ll delay A moment more, I’ve one request. The day Shall come when you return, but know my son And wife have ought to know the truth, so they Can eas’ly rest, to know that I had fun With you I’ th’ afterlife. Th’ eternal sun Might shine down on them, but not me – for this Cave does protect against what’d make them run.” “That much I’ll do,” said Luna. “I shall miss You dearly, friend, and know that you brought bliss To desp’rate I. Fair winds, Honeycomb Splat.” She turn’d to leave, without a thing amiss About affairs or scene. He did not chat To her at all – behind, her words begat The action of the wall – it mov’d to seal The baker deep within. She breath’d out – that Would be the last she’d hear from him. She’d squeal In further sadness, as the tears would steal Her sight away from her own use again. “Perhaps,” she said t’ herself, “I soon would heal From all this unimaginable pain. I never thought that fate would make the lane Be wide enough for only one of us. I hop’d we’d walk it side by side – my mane Now takes up both my sides. O what a fuss It will be, to get all the grains and plus From out its strands. But that does not compare To how I still regret to leave my guide – and thus, I’ll leave it as it were.” She did not dare To speak aloud – what point, she’d ask, was there? She was alone, with not a soul to hear Her words. And then, a shock – the hotter air Of such a height still burn’d her hide. So near She was to th’ top, and too, the sun, she’d fear She would combust before she would arrive. To her relief, the shade-side soon was here To help her cool. Although she’d rightly strive To reach the top, it did help t’ stay alive And get her thoughts right. Now, and for all time, She’d walk this lane alone. She would revive As well, that much she knew, but then that rhyme Would not extend to him. “’Twould be a crime Not to vouch for him, to what powers may be. I’ll get you back, guide – just you wait! My prime Is still now – ” Once she let the heat vent, she Would stand and start her quest again, to see Its end, that oh-so-tantalizing end. The shade would end, and would feel its spree Leave her hide, with the sun and heat to rend It freshly cooked. O you cursed bend, She thought – we meet again. Of course, the path Would narrow as I reach the top – I’ll wend Around the place, as I before – your wrath Means less than nothing to me. Th’ aftermath Of heat and light of yours has no effect Upon me – do you hear? And still, its bath Continu’d on. She thought: what if I chect My wings? What if, therefore, they could reject The heat with flapping, like a feather’d fan? And from beneath her cloak, she would erect Her massive pair of wings, with such a span As to protect her fro’ th’ sun. She began To wave them near her, not so she’d take flight, But just enough to dispel, rather than Attract, more heat. It worked with its might, So she thought, maybe, if the solar light Did not bear down too much, then she could fly Up to the top. Perhaps her shorter sight Prevented her from earlier seeing why Not. She then took a tentative flap, by An outcrop on the path, and with some air Drawn in her lungs, she took off to the sky. It all went well for quite some time, but there She notic’d something painful – why, the mare Was burning up, far faster than before! She could not flap enough to cool – a prayer, Which did not work, and she would fall once more Onto the ground. And when she stood, the chore Of climbing suffer’d quite a setback too! She fell much further down than she did soar! Of all th’ ways she’d remark, just one came through – That mountain peak was cursed – this she knew! It striv’d to keep her down upon the ground, No matter what. And thus, she felt so blue, Blue as her fur upon her hide. She found It hopeless – not a chance for her t’ be bound To th’ sky above, not when th’ eternal sun Within this land shone down. Yet she was sound Inside her mind – despite the setbacks won By curses, from th’ amount of water – none – To losing such a trusted guide to th’ cliff, She’d persevere though ev’ry manner, one And all, of hardship. This could well work, if She’d not delay in thinking. Rather stiff Her legs would grow – such as now, soon she saw. But then she thought about what such a whiff Of harmony might do. The mountain’s law Would call forth anyone who oversaw Its rules. Perhaps Honeycomb was so pure With loyalty, that he would call its draw. But what possess ponies to the lure? The possibilities, she’d reassure Herself, might not be even worth the thought. She’d have to concentrate upon secure Pathways onto the top. Thus, she would not Find shortcuts anymore – the last had wrought The fury of the mountain, she could tell. The hard way was the only way – she ought T’ respect that fact, no matter what. She fell Two times before, when she did not foretell The consequences of her actions, so She did resolve herself t’ obey its spell. And whilst she would ascend, she might bestow An answer to some other thing. She’d slow Her pace, so deep in thought, so she’d have time To consider each point that she would know. The baker – yes, of course; she knew his rhyme, The one he told her long before; what crime It’d be to let it be forgotten soon. She knew him, from his words, about his prime In life, when Sark’e would pursue him. Moon And sun to moon again, her courage hewn From desperation, never once to see His wife – until the very end. The loon Was soon ejected from the place, for she Was quite unwelcome anymore, and free He was again, from out her changeling grip. They soon would bear a new colt – or was he Born ’fore the changeling came? He’d skip Some details, sure, but something like that’d tip Her off about a thing, but she’d not press The minor issue – as the heat would strip Her of her train of thought. It did impress Her, to admit in frank, how much it’d ‘bless’ Her with a lack of thinking. She’d ask, “Why?” But knew the answer true – the solar stress Would take its toll on anyone who’d try To navigate its heat. Within the sky That gilded orb beyond Celestia’s hold Would taunt her to no end. She’d die, But then, she knew that happen’d. In that cold Sleep called death, she wonder’d if her old Corpse had since rotted away in the court. Why, she could hear the bells as they all toll’d Away her passing – nay! Abandon th’ sort Of thinking! Still, would she rise in the fort, Or be regenerated in the womb? So many questions she could ask, but short A pony that could answer any – whom Would know? And furthermore, about her tomb – If she would not revive her body, then Would she be buried ’neath the central room, Or even outside – in a grassy glen, Or – sky above forbid – a swampy fen? Perhaps she could find some solution to These problems, and so many more – but when? Upon a whim, she felt the wall accrue Its sand upon a wing – which she would view As fruitless, nary clue here to be seen. At least the coming shade would let her stew In coolness relative. Within the scene, She would consider – maybe flight unseen By that eternal sun would pave the way Onto the mountain top. It was quite mean, Its curse, but if it did not know to slay Her efforts, why not try at all? The day Was young, and never growing old at all, But she was one to try. She would display Her dusty wings from out beneath her shawl, And thrust herself into the air. The call Of rushing wind past by her flatten’d ears. Some progress seem’d apparent – then the fall Would set in, as she realiz’d that her fears Were conjur’d. She would hit the ground – the tears Were flowing freely, both from the defeat And pain resulting. There were nary cheers Within this cursed land, were there? How sweet Her victory would be, if she could beat Its cliffside pathway predetermined! At least, she thought, I do not need repeat The winding path that I before have tread; I’ll just resume my previous walk instead. She pict herself up, then she shook the dust From out her fur, and took a step ahead. The shady side would dissipate, and just Like that, the sun would burn her, as it must. But she’d ignore the pain, her mind train’d on The actions of before. She plac’d her trust Upon a baker – just a simple pawn To other royals, yet to her, the dawn Shone not as bright without her trusty guide. But that would never last, and they anon Would part without a warning. She inside Would grieve the sudden loss, but she applied A hint of rationality to th’ cost. Perhaps his destiny was not the tide Of life back in Equestria, merely lost To th’ Stygian barrier. She would not accost The Fates if such was truly meant to be – Like any other pony, she’d not crost Their tempers. Maybe if the two were three At some point – Sister should forbid – then she Would have some company. Alas, the thought Was folly mere, and not one she should see. Upon a whim, she peered o’er where nought Would meet the trail, and saw the fall, all fraught With mystery and danger. She would shake Her head, return to th’ journey, ’fore she caught Herself in yet another fall-mistake; Besides, how much more could the princess take? Three times she fell, one by an error true, The other two by her misjudgment. Make Me suffer all you wish, she thought, but you Will not break me. My mettle did accrue The strength to overpower whatever may Come down upon me. This I know be true! So she’d assure herself, but then, the day Eternal had some other tricks that they Had never seen yet – namely, that her stride Might not go anywhere where heat would stay. And as a result, Luna had to bide Her stepping, making sure that she had tried Not to approach a hotspot. Yet by chance She’d set her hoof upon it – and her hide Had burned not as much. Just a mere glance Upon her frog would send the burning lance Up through her leg. And then would come the shade, The shade that could not come in time. She’d prance And lie down there, to let the heat degrade. But then she saw in front of her, she made Her way so far above the ground, the dark Behind the mountain grew too short. She staid For just a moment more, then she would hark Its warning, make her way into the stark Light of the day. Again her hoov’s would burn, But now she knew to step with care. No spark Would find her frog, no matter how it’d yearn For her pain. Luna made sure it would learn Of her fight – fight against the elements. She’d step upon the ground, and made it spurn Its purpose of its heat – which grew intense Upon her back as well. Her cloak so dense Could keep out sand that drifted in the wind, But greater heat came as the cost. The sense That this gave her did not work, as air thinn’d The higher up she went. She would rescind The cloak at some point – but she’d not let go Of it. If she were not so disciplin’d, It would be gone so very long ago. But making them at first took magic, so She was not keen on doing that again, Lest she would have within her head the throe It had when she would light her horn. That pain Was quite enough to stop her. She’d sustain Her strength for just a moment, then the ache Would set in, shutting off the magic’s strain. No sense in teleporting – such mistake Would havoc wreak on her, so she would take The long way up. Besides, she could not fly Up there – the curse had forced her to make Her way by hoof. And here, the sunny sky Would light the way upon the trail so high. This was the way; no matter how she tried To find a shortcut, she would need comply.