To Make a Spark
To Make a Spark
*****
There once was a young pegasus named Mi Amore Cadenza, whom everypony called Cadence. She lived in Cloudsdale, a city which floated high above the trees, and she was known to all the ponies who lived there for her beautiful voice. More than that, the pegasi of that city knew and loved her for the songs she would improvise—for often, it seemed to those who heard that they were more than mere melodies.
She shared her songs freely, and she always seemed to know what words and tunes a pony needed most to hear. Those who listened found that their troubles seemed to melt away, and the things which they loved shone brighter in their minds than before. Indeed, the crystal heart which graced her flank bore testament to her skill: “A mark of her gift for revealing the beauty which lies within the heart of every colt and stallion,” or so her mother had rather grandiosely put it. For her part, Cadence was content to know that her songs brought happiness to the ponies around her.
One day, a crier arrived from Canterlot, bearing news from the Royal Castle. “It has been observed by those nobles who stand in highest place at Her Majesty's court,” he announced to the crowd which had gathered to hear what word was come from Canterlot, “that Her Royal Highness, Princess Celestia of Equestria, who has borne the heavy burden of rulership since time immemorial, and has charge of the endless cycle of night and day, has not been seen to smile in any of their memories, nor to express any joy more marked than the serene satisfaction which pervades her ever-fruitful efforts on all of our behalfs. Noting this, and wishing for Her Majesty to be filled brimful with the selfsame joy which her beneficence brings to all her subjects, they have called in jesters, and musicians, and actors from the world over, but none have made the Princess smile. Therefore this decree has been sent to every city in the land: that all who believe they may lighten Her Majesty’s heart shall come to the Royal Castle at Canterlot, bringing what talents they possess, and that any who shall succeed to bring joy to the heart and lips of our beloved Princess shall be richly rewarded, in both gold and in station.”
When Cadence heard these words, she was excited. Her beautiful singing had never failed to bring a smile to anypony’s face, and her cutie mark spoke to her skill in bringing forth the heart’s joy. Surely, she thought, I can make the Princess smile! After all, the Princess held the joy of all Equestria in her heart, or so her teachers said. There was more than enough joy in the world to make anypony smile, of that she was sure. And so, she told her parents that she wished to travel to Canterlot.
At first, her mother was reluctant to let her go. “Canterlot is a long way away, dear,” she began, “and I’m sure there are plenty of professionals who will know what to do. I don’t think—”
But her father interrupted. “Darling, you worry too much. Canterlot isn’t too far away for a pony Cadence’s age, and it’s high time she saw a little bit of the world.” And though her mother bit her lip, she allowed in the end that Cadence was indeed old enough to make the trip to the capital, so long as she promised to stay out of trouble and to go straight to the castle, and to come straight home again when she was done. And both her mother and her father agreed that if anypony could bring a smile to the Princess’s face, it was she.
So, Cadence packed a lunch and set out for Canterlot that very day. Young as she was, her wings were still too weak to fly all the long way there. But the road beneath Cloudsdale led straight to the mountain city, and the walk would not be too long or arduous. With a kiss from her mother and a hug from her father, she set her eyes toward the earth and hopped from the cloud-built doorstep.
*****
Cloudsdale hovered high in the air, and so Cadence’s trip began with a series of wide, lazy spirals as she slowly descended toward the ground. As she circled downward, doubts which had not surfaced when she stood in the comfort and security of her home began to gnaw at her mind. What sort of song would the Princess want to hear? she asked herself. What if she doesn’t enjoy my song? When I come before her, will I know what to do? She had sung for many a pony in the past, but she knew that this would be different. The ponies she sang for in Cloudsdale were friends and relatives, ponies she’d grown up with; ponies whose loves and desires she knew like the back of her hoof. She didn’t need to be told that Storm Dust adored silly songs full of funny words and punnery, the tongue-twisting phrases and hopscotch melodies a musical match for the brash colt’s wit. Likewise, she knew that Windy Ways would hear his wife in a song built around rising trills, the tune calling to his mind an image of her silhouetted against a westering sun as she reached the apex of an ascent; hanging motionless for one endless instant before a dive.
But the Princess… that was a different matter. How, she asked herself, can I speak to the heart of a pony whom I’ve never even met?
As Cadence turned this question over in her mind, she heard the sounds of argument below. Banking to see what the commotion was all about, she spied a small cottage, from which the shouts and shrieks echoed. As she landed a short ways away, a surly earth pony stallion marched out the door, slamming it behind him as he stalked off toward the road. Without thinking, she dropped down and landed nearby.
“Sir,” she called to him, “why are you so upset?”
The stallion started at her voice, looking about in surprise for a moment before his eyes settled on the young stranger who had dropped out of the sky. Cadence saw that his mood softened a bit when he saw her, but his resentment was still plain. He snorted and kicked a hoof, but eventually he responded. “I am upset,” he answered, practically spitting the word, “because my wife is unbearable. She nags and complains, she sulks and she broods, and skies forbid I ever find fault with her.” He looked back at the house, frowning sullenly. “Sorry, you didn’t need to hear that. But sometimes, she just makes me so…so…” He struggled to find a word, but eventually settled for a snort of pent-up frustration.
“But do you love her?” Cadence asked.
“I do… or, I did… but sometimes it’s hard to remember why.”
“Then I will help you remember,” said Cadence. And she sang for the stallion, and the song was her.
In Cadence’s voice, he heard his wife’s passionate defenses, and her laughter, and her sighs of contentment. And they were the passionate defense she had made to her parents, shocked that she would wish to marry a simple farmer; the laughter when he came in from the fields on a rainy day, more mud than pony, and she carefully washed and brushed his mane as he costumed himself in soap bubbles and insisted he was Starswirl the Bearded; the sighs of contentment that he alone had heard, for they came only as she lay her head against his barrel at the end of a long, tiring day. The sighs which were more than just exhalations, for they said without words, “With you, I am safe. With you, I am home.
“I love you.”
The song ended, but the words seemed to linger in the air. The stallion worked his jaw for a moment, then doffed his hat to Cadence. “If you’ll pardon me, young miss, I believe I should be heading back inside now. I’ve something that needs saying.” She giggled and waved him away, but then a question popped into her head.
“Sir!” she called, and the stallion turned back around. “What will you say to her?”
The stallion smiled. “Oh, I reckon I’ll say a few things, before I’m done. I figure I’ll start with ‘I love you,’ though. Seems that’s the most important bit in any case.”
He walked into his cottage, as Cadence started up the road toward Canterlot, grinning from ear to ear.
*****
The walk was long, and uphill all the way. But although climbing the road to Canterlot was weary work, it left her mind free to wander. And it wandered, over and over again, to a single question: What can I sing to please the Princess? And try as she might, she could not find any answer. How could she know what to sing? How could she know what the Princess needed to hear?
By the time Cadence reached the entrance to the great city, her body was exhausted from the hike, and her spirit was sapped from wrestling with her dilemma. As she wearily trudged up the cobblestone street, a pegasus guard stationed at the gate took note of her, and stepped forward to block her path. Gruffly but not unkindly, he asked her, “What is your business in Canterlot, little one? Have you lost your parents?”
Cadence arched her back as she slid off her saddlebags, gratefully stretching her legs. Then, she smiled up at the guard. “I’ve come to make the Princess happy!”
The guard chuckled, patting her head. “I should have known; ponies have been coming from near and far all day, and why not? Everyone deserves to be happy, even—no, especially a Princess.”
Cadence was about to pick her bag back up and be on her way, but something in his voice made her stop. He sounded friendly but professional when he spoke, the very thing one would expect to hear from a city guard. But somehow… somehow, she knew that he had been thinking of something sad when he said those last words. “Sir,” she said to him, “What’s wrong?”
“What do you mean?” he asked, and though his voice was polite confusion on the surface, all Cadence heard was sorrow and frustration. She looked at him, and he seemed to realize what she was truly asking.
“It’s nothing worth troubling yourself about,” he said, looking away to watch the ragged trickle of ponies coming through the gates. “Just a little trouble at home.” He glanced back down to see the little pink pegasus still staring at him, and snorted. “I’ve got a daughter, and being a father and a guard isn’t always easy, okay?” He shook his head and went back to watching the merchants and travelers come and go. “Ugh, look. I’m not supposed to be chatting while I’m on duty. Now go on in, I’m sure the Princess will love your… whatever it is you do.”
“I sing,” she said. And she sang for the stallion, and the song was her.
In Cadence’s voice, he heard his daughter’s shrill giggles, and her tired murmurs, and her bitter farewells. And they were the shrill giggles she squealed as he chased her around their backyard, playing games the rules of which changed on a whim and which filled his rare off-duty days; her tired murmurs as she snuggled deep into her pillow at the end of a long day, barely conscious, yet still awake enough to ask for one more bedtime story; the bitter farewells of the curt “bye, dad,” he heard each morning as he left for work, not to return until well past nightfall—a bitterness behind which lurked the unsaid words, “I love you. I need you.
“I miss you.”
When she had finished her song, the guard could still hear the last words echoing in his ears. Twitching his ears, he chewed his lip thoughtfully. Then, he gave Cadence a wordless nod, and trotted to the other side of the city gate, where his partner stood. Cadence lingered, drifting close enough to hear the two speak.
“Hey Comet, can you cover the gate? I need to skip out early so I can catch Sarge while she’s still on duty.”
“Yeah, sure. Whatcha need to talk to her for? Gonna try to pick up some more hours?”
“Actually, I think I’m going to see about getting some afternoons off…”
Cadence trotted out of hearing then, a smile upon her face, and made for the Royal Castle.
*****
The Royal Castle was even grander and more imposing than Cadence had imagined. Towering marble walls soared up from the ground, seeming to defy gravity with brute, implacable strength. The cloud towers of her home were impressive, but to see the arches and spires of Cloudsdale not only replicated, but exceeded, and to see it done using stone, made the young pegasus boggle. The weight of the earth seemed to tower above her, and looking up at the endlessly rising columns, Cadence suddenly felt very small and insignificant.
No less daunting than the castle was the crowd which mulled within the courtyard. Hundreds of ponies from all walks of life were gathered there: artists carefully maneuvering their covered canvases, musicians carrying all manner of instruments, chefs carting delicacies from lands near and far, inventors tweaking their latest magical or mechanical wonders, and ponies whose gifts and tools were totally unguessable to the young pegasus. Standing alone and ignored amid this sea of important-looking ponies, Cadence couldn’t help feeling helpless and unimportant. What could I give to the Princess, she asked herself, that these ponies can’t? Surely one of them would succeed, and if somehow they did not… if they could not make the Princess smile, what hope did she have? Again the voice in her head asked: How can I know what the Princess will need to hear?
Her ruminations were interrupted by the sound of a throat clearing. Looking up, she saw a middle-aged unicorn mare levitating a clipboard, and eyeing Cadence suspiciously. “Have you lost your parents?” the mare asked. “Come with me, we’ll make an announcement from the front of the yard and find—”
“Oh, no, ma’am!” interrupted Cadence. “I’m not lost. I’m here for the Princess—to try to make her happy, that is.”
The mare raised a dubious eyebrow, and Cadence blushed, dipping her head… but then, she looked back up, into the mare’s eyes. The mare did not return her gaze; she had already gone back to her clipboard. “Well, go to the tables on the left to register a time, then. You’re too late to get in today; it’s nearly time for Her Highness to raise the moon and retire. But you can still reserve a spot for tomorrow afternoon.”
The words were crisp, bored, and utterly detached—words which had no doubt been spoken dozens of times today, and would be spoken dozens more before all was said and done. And yet, when Cadence looked in the mare’s eyes, she didn’t see distracted disinterest. Instead, she saw devotion, anger… and most of all, fear.
“Ma’am, what is it that frightens you so?” she asked.
But the unicorn was not paying her any mind. Instead, she had turned to address a flamboyantly-garbed stallion who had just entered the courtyard, carrying a pair of marionettes. Cadence moved to the side a bit, so she could see the mare’s eyes once more. And then, she looked.
She looked, and she saw: she saw that the devotion was to the Princess, whom she revered and loved in equal measure. She saw that the anger was aimed at the stream of ponies who paraded themselves before the court each day, bringing to the Princess their troubles and their arguments, the ponies whom she blamed in her heart for the Princess’s much-discussed solemnity. She saw that the fear was for the Princess, that she might never smile… and for herself, that all she did in service to the Crown might be for naught, if it did not suffice to make the Princess happy. Fear that she was not worthy of the Princess. Fear that the Princess deserved better.
“MA’AM!” she shouted, bumping the mare’s leg to get her attention. As she looked down, Cadence cut off the reprimand which was already on the tip of the mare’s tongue, saying, “You don’t need to be afraid! You’re worthy of her! You are!” Taking a steadying breath, she sang for the mare, and the song was her.
In Cadence’s voice, the mare heard the Princess’s soft, precise steps, and her quiet sighs, and her unknowable silences. And they were the soft, precise steps which she had heard as she lay crying and alone, face buried in her hooves, at the back of an alley in a strange part of Canterlot, so many years ago; the quiet sighs when the Princess took the first sip of tea the mare had prepared for her after a long day, accompanied by an ever-so-slight release of tension in her shoulders which was the closest thing to happiness she had ever seen from the monarch; the unknowable silence of that strange, wonderful night when the Princess had sat upon the steps of the Royal Garden until dawn, staring into the heavens without seeming to move.
And at dawn, the Princess had turned to the bleary-eyed unicorn mare who had sat beside her all those hours, not daring to speak or even move, and had addressed her. And the words she said… "You needn't have attended me all night; you well know that you are dismissed come moonrise. But, I admit that it is... pleasant, to share another pony's company on nights such as this.
“Thank you.”
The chatter in the courtyard had ceased; everypony was looking at the child whose song had just ended. The mare looked down at Cadence, and those final words echoed in her ears. “That song… will you sing that song for the Princess?”
“No,” said Cadence. “That was the song you needed to hear. I don’t know what song the Princess needs yet, but… but I think that when I see her, then I’ll know.”
“Then I will take you to her,” said the mare. She brought Cadence through the mass of equinity, to the imponderably massive doors which opened into the Great Hall. Nopony raised a voice to object.
*****
Beyond those doors lay an immeasurably vast hallway, lined on either side with nobles and courtiers. Many hundreds of ponies were gathered there, yet the space dwarfed them all. A broad carpet measured the distance to the throne, and to the Princess who sat thereon.
Cadence balked at the sight, her feelings of insignificance returning with sudden vengeance as she took in the vaulted stone ceiling which towered above her head. But she summoned her courage, forcing her eyes down and forward. She had come all the way from Cloudsdale to sing for the Princess, and now that she was here, she would not let herself be cowed. She walked down the carpet, doing her best to ignore the curious stares of the wealthy and powerful ponies who surrounded her, no doubt wondering what this mere child could offer which would break the Princess’s solemnity.
After moments which felt like hours, she reached the golden throne. She knelt down low, just like her father had told her to, and she looked up at the Princess.
The Princess returned her gaze, nodding her head fractionally in response. “And what is your name, my little pony?” she asked. Her voice was warm, but distant, like…
Like the sun, Cadence found herself thinking. Absurdly, she felt the urge to laugh.
“I am Cadence,” she answered, suppressing that urge as she rose to her hooves. A moment later, she added “your Majesty,” blushing at her lapse.
If the Princess noticed the breach of decorum, she said nothing. “And what is it that you do?” she asked.
“I sing,” said Cadence. And she opened her mouth, and she looked…
...And then, she closed her mouth again. She looked deep into the Princess’s eyes, and the Princess did not flinch from her gaze. For a long moment, both were still. The two ponies stared at each other: the Princess with regal detachment, and Cadence with straining intensity. At last, she turned away, furrows creasing her brow. For what sat upon the throne was not the Princess, a creature of unknowable power and inequine benevolence. What sat upon the throne was Celestia.
She was powerful, yes. She was old beyond reckoning, yes. She was wise as only one who has the experience of millennia can be, it was true. But behind the mask of inscrutable mystery which she wore as a second skin, she was still a pony.
And with a shock, Cadence realized that the pony sitting on the throne… that Celestia… was sad. She looked, and she saw... and she knew what Celestia needed.
“No…” she whispered. The Princess arched an eyebrow at this, and some of the closer nobles murmured amongst themselves in bemusement. “No,” she repeated, louder this time, “No, not here.” The noises of confusion grew louder, but Cadence did not seem to notice them. A look of determination on her face, she marched toward the throne.
Two guardsponies stepped forward to intercept her, but the Princess halted them with a raised wing. Motioning them back, she cocked her head at the young pegasus climbing up the steps to her. “Not here?” she asked, her tone quizzical yet impassive.
“No,” said Cadence, and with that, she stepped up next to the throne, took the Princess’s outstretched wing in her teeth, and led her off the throne and back toward the massive doors through which she had come.
Ignoring the murmurs and cries of disbelief which sprouted on every side, Cadence led the Princess all the long way back through the hall, and out into the courtyard. Ponies made way before the pair, not knowing what to make of the sight before them: the Princess, looking curious yet serene, being led about like an errant foal by a pony not yet fully come to marehood. Through throngs which awkwardly parted, caught between intervening and deferring, they passed.
Cadence brought the Princess to the Royal Gardens, then sat down next to her. The ponies from the hall and the courtyard ganged together behind, talking nervously amongst themselves as they all wondered what was about to happen—and what the Princess would do.
“My little pony,” said Celestia with a voice which was kind but chiding, “I have indulged you, but I fear I have no more time for these games. I must raise the moon, and you must be on your way.”
Cadence smiled. “Raise the moon, Celestia, and then I will sing your song.”
Celestia frowned down at the young pegasus, but Cadence was not looking at her. Instead, she was facing east, to where the moon would rise. After a moment, the Princess turned her head in the same direction, and her horn began to glow as she retired the day and brought forth the night. And as the moon crested the horizon, Cadence began to sing.
When she heard the first notes, Celestia gasped. She turned to Cadence with shock in her eyes, for the tune she sang was one Celestia had not heard in a millenium. But the song did not end; it continued, and changed, and grew. She turned back to the moon as the melody washed over her, staring at its blemished white surface.
A tear trickled down one cheek. Then the other. A shudder ran through her body.
A thousand ponies, clustered together on the steps and garden paths behind the two, watched in horror as the Princess of Equestria began to cry, her choking sobs echoing through the Royal Gardens as she sat beneath the stars. Her forelegs trembled, buckled. A thousand ponies stared in disbelief, none daring to make a sound. The night was quiet, save for the loud, heaving gasps of the Princess—and the song of the young pegasus who stood beside her.
For in that song, Celestia heard her. She heard her unbridled laughter, the rustle of her feathers, the sigh of her breath. Memories flooded her, wave upon wave, drowning her in a sea of remembering. Words came to her, Luna’s voice—and her own.
“I love you.” And I have never stopped loving you, not once.
“I miss you.” Not one night has passed when my thoughts were not turned to you.
“Thank you.” For more than any words can say.
Rising on shaking hooves, Celestia looked to the moon once more. Barely able to whisper, she forced the words past the rawness of her throat.
“I forgive you.”
The words were her voice, and they were Luna’s. And for one moment—for three words—they were together.
Celestia looked down at Cadence, whose song had ended. The words lingered, and yet... Cadence had not sung those words. Not those three.
The Princess’s lips moved.
There was a spark.
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Despite the fact that the Crystal Heart Spell touched upon Cadances acension, i must say I'm thoroughly pleased to see a fan interpretation
This is just like a fairytale. Very beautiful.
This is beautiful. I hope it makes it to the feature box, so many people can read of it.
Very nice. I thought the writing style, especially whenever Cadance sang, sounded a lot like other authors. It was a nice touch.
I think maybe a little more covering the ascension itself would be nice, but I know that's a stylistic choice, so don't feel pressured or anything. Beautifully written either way, and faved with a vengeance.
I knew there was a reason I followed you. Thanks ever so much for the story.
This seems oddly familiar. Like a lot of things actually. But how this was done just as well as they were is what makes it an accomplishment.
3569265
I'm glad to hear that this still worked for you; I haven't read Crystal Heart Spell, but it's reassuring to know that just going off of the show still suffices.
3569585>>3569606
Thank you both very much!
3569642
An unintentional touch, I fear I must admit. Still, I'm glad it worked for you!
3569736
I can absolutely see the appeal of having a little bit more at the end. But you're right, I did make a conscious choice to end it the way I did, and I'm happy that you also enjoyed it my way. Thanks!
3569903
You are ever so welcome! And now, at pace my last couple stories have come out, it's only another 359 days until my next fic
3569947
Thank you!
Woah. Chills by the end, that was beautiful.
Adding to group.
I, also, am adding this to group: "Cadance: Devoted and Loving" always needs more stories.
Also, someone needs to draw Skywriter's attention to this sucker, stat, because it is wow kinda good.
This is . . . wonderful, truly wonderful. Chris, your works are simply a delight.
I love how this reads just like a fairytale, which seems fitting given the setting and the fact that MLP:FIM opened its first episode with a storybook narrative. I could easily see this story as being an in-universe depiction of Cadence's ascension, written to let ponies know how the Princess of Love came to be. Everything within the narrative flows perfectly, and the setup itself was executed flawlessly. And the finale, simply beautiful. Well done!!
Beautiful. Need to add this to several groups, including this one:
tinyurl.com/mbho6go
(One minor nitpick: the singular of "millenia" is "millenium".)
Wasn't this covered in one of the MLP books?
Hello, feature bar! My first time there, and it feels good.
3570345
That's exactly what I hoped to hear. Thank you!
3570739>>3571111
Glad you both enjoyed, and thanks for feeling like my story merited adding!
3571188>>3571216
It always puts a smile on my face when people use the word "beautiful" to describe something I wrote. Thank you both!
3571283
Cadence's backstory is touched on in Twilight Sparkle and the Crystal Heart Spell. I haven't read that story, and any similarities between that accounting and this one are coincidental. This is my take on what I saw in the show--no more, no less. I hope you enjoy!
out of curiosity, did celestia raise cadence to alicornhood? that's what the story seems to imply.
3571406
You're very welcome.
3571406
Very cool, and the story deserves it! I'd like to think that I helped a little with that, what with adding it to a dozen different groups.
I haven't read the Twilight Sparkle and the Crystal Heart Spell, but from what I've heard it features Cadence becoming an alicorn by defeating an evil villain with the power of love. As important as defeating evil villains is, sometimes
something somethingI've been stuck here for half an hour trying to say something pithy. So, uh, this is beautiful and stuff, so thanks for writing it.Absolutely beautiful. As an earlier poster said, it's written just like a fairy tale, and with Cadence being who she is, it was the perfect way to write this story.
This is canon-quality. The writers of the show should give you a cartoonish giant bag of money with a dollar sign on the side and use this story in the show. It's THAT good, and I'm not sure I've ever read a story that I felt that way about.
I salute you, sir.
My mood starting this fic
images4.fanpop.com/image/photos/17300000/How-the-Grinch-Stole-Christmas-christmas-movies-17364455-1067-800.jpg
Bleh bleh, fairytale beginning is okay, interesting, interesting,
My mood after this fic.
luckiestgirlever.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/08/happy-grinch.jpg
BOOTIFUL
Do you know Colors of the Wind?
The first time I heard the original I was close to tears. Not because it sad but because it is THAT beautiful.
While reading your story I was not close to tears. I shed some.
I find myself unable to write more than that "To make a Spark" has moved me deeply.
Oh ye of little faith!
Seriously. I think we're going to have to make it some kind of game to predict how I'm going to react to a story (and it'll be another thing that Present Perfect can be amusingly incorrect at), because so far no-one seems to have the so much as a glimmer of understanding about what fires my imagination. This, my good man, was absolutely magnificent.
I'm going to get the one small thing that threw me out of the way first: " . . . and the song was her."
Only when reading it the fourth time did I actually twig what this was supposed to mean, and so I went back and had a look at how it was constructed and I still don't like it. To me the text is actively arranged to make it hard to make that connection when there are so many punctuation options meant explicitly to imply connection, but you use a hard carriage-return instead. To me, that forces the separation between pronoun and its target—that is, even though the correct answer went through my head, the construction was telling me that couldn't be the case. Needless to say that such confusion is unhelpful to enjoying prose.
That side, I really enjoyed this for two particular reasons that I think I can clearly explain.
1. You asked me what the difference was between the comedy in Whom The Princesses Would Destroy and Dirk Gently's Hollistic Detection Agency. It took no more than a few chapters to see the difference plain as day. Douglas Adams has a rock-solid confidence—or perhaps arrogance, it matters little—in presenting his own brand of silliness: it is presented as matter-of-fact in the same manner that the 'Pythons excelled at. To me, Whom the Princesses Would Destroy utterly fails in this regard, and it's very much what I have come to label as an 'American' style of comedy (regardless of whether this is a remotely valid or fair labelling). It wants me to find it funny—I can feel the author's need for it to be funny—over-explanation, hanging the moment out, redundant re-clarifications, etcetera. Stories like this make me feel bullied into enjoying it and thus it is almost impossible for me to do so, quashing what little mirth might have otherwise been found there. That ability to write without projection is, I think, the very reason we both enjoyed Variables as much as we did (and sadly, the thing I have come to find missing in T.D.'s later works). It is that absolute neutrality that makes this such an effortless and fundamentally pleasant read.
It asks nothing, it expects nothing, what you get out is up to you. The moment a story feels like it's trying to hard, it will lose me.
2. Plot-wise, the construction here is sublime. The lead-in sub-stories are virtually irrelevant in content—the finale would have made sense regardless—but are perfect for setting pace, establishing tone and demonstrating a masterful grasp of holding your PoV/psychic distance. It holds a certain unfocused and 'off the cuff' feel that allows me to take in the whole thing as a series of concepts rather than any individual detail. It makes full use of the tonal neutrality to let me build pictures in my head without giving so much as a single detail that might get in the way, and yet every detail that actually matters is present. Minimum prose, maximum result. I felt free to actually enjoy it for what it was. Additionally, the lead-in provides the perfect distraction to deliver the final revelation with a feather-light touch. You didn't have to 'make' it anything special—the fact that it was simply different to the unconscious expectation made it stand out without so much as a nudge.
Magnificent.
-M
P.S. If I had a fully functional microphone, I would so do a reading of this for you.
This was quite a wonderful read. Simple, clean, and genuine.
This was actually just
beautiful. This was written so simply, and made so easy to understand, that it helped me to go back to my writing with a lot more happiness than I was feeling previously 
. So thank you 
A beautiful story. I love that it's presented as a fable. The format suits it well.
Is this really your first time in the featurebox?! Dang, dude. Wonderful story to hit the big time with!
I can tell how much effort went into this because of how effortlessly it reads. Smooth construction, and the fairytale tone is faithful throughout. Deserves it, for certain.
I read this right on the tail of a sad story alongside it in the featurebox (which I'll leave unnamed). That fell flat for me, but your story drew out some genuine feels. I had to stop and think about the contrast. I think that, similar to what 3573090 said about "writing with projection," the major difference here is that it felt like you were willing to let each moment stand on its own, rather than trying to set up some sort of artificial delay and build-up. (Your climax, of course, centers around Celestia and Luna, which is a recipe for awesome … but this was hitting hard long before the climax.) With both your story and Other Story, I guessed the nature of the climax just a few hundred words in … but your story doesn't depend on its climax for its resonance. Each individual song is a moment of beauty, of redemption. And ultimately, it's not what Cadence does to Celestia that made her ascend. It's what she does.
The one piece of possibly-constructive feedback I'd have, by the way, would be to question the scene with the song for the guard. The reason I say this is that you're drawing a lot of power from the fairytale structure of the piece, and one of the stronger fairytale motifs you're going to find is that important things always come in threes. I was actually shocked to see the song for the seneschal when it reached that point, because there was clearly a song for Celestia still upcoming, and that lurched it over the doorway from three to four.
The seneschal's song is, however, stronger than the guard's (and also reflects more upon Celestia herself), and so if you were trying to whittle it down to three songs, that would be the one to cut.
While I'm overanalyzing the songs, the first one is clearly important as it's establishing the nature of her power, and it's the most faithful to her canon power … but might there be any way to tie it further in to the ultimate resolution, or the themes of self-doubt/self-forgiveness invoked by the seneschal/Celestial songs? It might make a strong story even stronger.
3574836 I get what you're saying, but... *ahem*
Since the first three songs are a bait-and-switch for the change in purpose at the end, I'd say this is abiding by the rule of three, just implemented for a secondary effect. I really don't think that just two songs would have carried the correct weight for then ending. As it is, it avoids the basic formula to keep the reader on edge and guessing. That said, I was more of the opinion that ending didn't require the setup, and you seem to see it the other way around, so we may be reading entirely different stories here!
-M
3571541
I think that, in Magical Mystery Cure, there's a certain amount of ambiguity over Celestia's role in Twilight's alicornification. I wanted to keep that same ambiguity here. Celestia may have made Cadence an alicorn, or she may not have; what matters is what Cadence did, not Celestia.
3571601
By all means, take some credit! And thank you again for adding it to the relevant groups.
3572083
Believe me, I know how hard "pithy" can be. I follow your meaning though, no worries
Thank you!
3572591
That's powerful praise. I'm glad my story worked so well for you.
3572608
Hmm... I'm not quite sure I follow. Maybe you should use some more emoticons?
In all seriousness, though, thank you for the kind words/images!
3572751
I've always felt like a good story should inspire some emotion in the reader. Whether that emotion is joy, sorrow, anger, or that queer commingling of feelings which gets wrapped up in the blanket term "catharsis," a good story should make the reader feel something. I take it as very high praise that you reacted so strongly to my story; thank you for sharing.
3573090
Color me pleasantly surprised! I'm very glad to hear you enjoyed--and thank you for taking the time to elucidate what worked for you. "Emotionally honest" was at the top of my list of things to accomplish with this story (while I like to to think that none of my stories are emotionally dishonest, I do have a tendency to be sledgehammery), and it sounds like that came through.
3573413>>3573855
Thank you!
3574142
Thank you for the kind words! As for how she ended up with Shiny after all that, well, that sounds like another story...
3574322
...or we could just go with that!
3574808
That is precisely what I hoped to convey. Thank you for the kind words!
3574836>>3574886
As for this: I would tend to count the events essentially as Mr. M does: three challenges which lead up to the climax. At each step, Cadence "grows:" with the farmer, for the first time she uses her talents for someone she's only just met; with the guard, she learns to see the problem unprompted; and with the seneschal, she sees what's in her heart without ever being told. And then, at the end, Celestia.
That's just how I see it, of course. And although I'm quite familiar with the rule of threes, I didn't set out to intentionally evoke (or subvert) it; for better or for worse, I thought that four songs was what the story called for, to show everything I wanted (and hopefully, nothing else).
Ooops, forgot to add! Rectify!
Your story is magic. Thank you.
~The Dreamers
3574836 Well, the Rule of Three is more of a guideline than an actual rule. I think the whole thing is adorable, and once I quit sniffling and wiping my eyes, I headed straight for the favorite button.
This is just...beautiful. The fairy tale style combined with imagery and themes are just amazing.
Thank you for writing it.
Did you know that, when you bite into an alicorn's personal problems in the dark, it makes a spark?
In all seriousness, I found it quite enjoyable.
Were you going for an Aesopian fairy-tale style of writing? Or just a normal story? Because it feels as if you tried to do both, and it was a bit distracting.
Other than that, a pretty damn good piece of work. I especially like how ambiguous all the characters were. You didn't develop them any more than necessary, yet just enough for the reader to care about them. Not many authors can pull that off. You did.
Carry on.
3574836
See, I have to disagree with my esteemed colleague here. This isn't a classic-three fairy tale structure because the Princess problem is the large unified obstacle at the end. A four-part "One,Two,Three, Summary Of All Three" is just as valid a structure and is more harmonic with the nature of alicorns as presented by Berrow and implied in the canon: that they are the union of the three primary tribes. In fact, my suggestion for improvement would be to momentarily mention the farmer's Earth Pony status (probably intuitable) and the guard's Pegasus one (less so) so that it is made more explicit that she is soothing and simultaneously drawing inspiration from all three major tribes and then mixing them all to give to the Princess. That would, IMO, perfect this already-close-to-perfect alicoronation story.
Anyway, this piece is very relevant to both my interest and my Internets. Liked, Faved, cuddled a little.
3571111
The group-add served the purpose of drawing my attention to this story quite admirably.
Is this really your first time in the feature box? Seems hard to believe
It's times like these I wish I had your reviewing skills. I want to offer some useful criticism, but you'll have to make due with what little I can give. I enjoyed this story; it was short and well structured. I agree with Skywriter that explicitly mentioning the race of each pony Cadance helped would improve the story, though I don't think you should add anything about drawing on all three tribes when helping Celestia
Though I enjoy fairy tales as much as the next guy, they often seem too... tell-y, I suppose, and this fic is no exception. This is one of the few stories I think could actually use lyrics (and honestly, I'm not entirely sure on this suggestion. It may be an awful idea). The alternate fic I'm imagining appropriates pre-existing, older songs for Cadance to sing, with additional lyrics (created by you, if that's not clear) added to Celestia's song at the end. Then again, that would ruin the fairy tale approach unless you chose/created one song that worked for multiple ponies
3575185>>3575621>>3575946
Thank you all for the kind words!
3576379
And you are, of course, very welcome!
3577089
Few people know that alicorns are made of mint lifesavers and vodka. In all seriousness, I'm glad you enjoyed.
3577337
I wasn't trying to be "Aesopian," per se, but I can see the parallels. Thank you for the thoughtful response, and I shall indeed carry on!
3577904
I was going to type up a thoughtful reply, but when I read this all I could think about was your sharing a glass of wine with a rolled-up scroll (all of my fanfics are written on scrolls, what of it?) while sitting beside a roaring fire in a love seat with a picturesque snowfall visible through the frosted window, and I cannot stop laughing.
3578044
Thank you! For whatever reason, I've never really been comfortable putting verse into my stories, so I never seriously thought about writing out any lyrics. It'd be an interesting thought, at least, though like you, I'm having trouble figuring out whether it would work in practice. That would depend mostly on me, I suppose.
3575946
Is it bad that I knew what you were linking to before I clicked on it?
Sequel...
Catharsis...
Worked for me. Well written. Favourited.
Oh my god.
This is probably the most perfectly-crafted storytelling I've ever seen.
Well fuckjng done.
Oh, the feels!
3578044>>3579757
No, this is definitely one of the places where telling is appropriate. Putting actual lyrics in would utterly ruin it.
...unless Chris thinks he can write lyrics that are good enough to get him alicorned, of course.
Just... Lovely.
Oh, this was very well done.
3574886
> I was more of the opinion that ending didn't require the setup, and you seem to see it the other way around …
I was more trying to say that each individual song is powerful even without the context of the ending, that they work as individual scenes. They do require the ending in the sense that if you build up through the various encounters and don't close with the climax it would have been hollow. You're right, the same self-containment is true of the ending as well, with the same caveats.
3575019 3575946 3577904
When I am wrong, which is not infrequently, I endeavour to at least be entertainingly and educationally wrong.
That is all. Words are useless.
Was the spark her transformation? Did she suddenly become an alicorn then? Or was the spark Celestia's smile? A spark from within her soul when her heart's light flickers once more. Or is it both? A moment in time that can be described as a spark. A moment of love, happiness and bonding.
Wonderful story!
I expected a happier ending because of its fairytale like structure and feel, but perfectly happy endings are anathema in this fandom.
Unless it's a ship...
I wish I had found this story sooner. I look forward to reading more of your work.
This was what I was looking for in Cadence's ascension story!
One of the reasons I read 'Twilight Sparkle and the Crystal Heart Spell' was to see how Cadence became an Alicorn, and while I was rather disappointed with the whole thing overall, I thought the ascension story was one of the worst bits. I knew the book was supposed to be about Twilight, but somehow, I was expecting more.
So naturally, when I found this while perusing Equestria Daily's older posts, I somehow just knew this was what I was looking for, and I wasn't disappointed this time around! I don't even like Cadence!
I love the fairy tale feel of the story and how Cadence uses music to spread love and speak to the heart of the pony she's helping. Music is such a powerful medium. I don't think the fact that her songs didn't have lyrics detracted from them at all.
The story as a whole was so moving, that I cried. I agree with whoever said the show's writers should send you a big bag of cash and use your story in the show. It would give some much-needed weight to Cadence's otherwise paper-thin and flimsy character.
Kudos, to you, good sir! You even made me rethink my position on Cadence.
Very nice. It's got a very fairytale kindof style to it.