Death
When the sun came up that morning, Inkie Pie knew that her time had come.
So she got her guitar and walked away from the castle, and Luna followed her without saying a word. When her hooves finally touched the street, they started to bleed immediately.
Inkie Pie had been feeling weaker and weaker lately. Her stomach wouldn’t allow her to eat as much as she used to when she was younger, her head would ache after an hour or so of music, her hooves would burn more than usual. At first, she dismissed those facts without an afterthought, but eventually she had to accept that she was growing old.
That particular morning, she thought about her childhood again, about that rock farm that she hadn’t seen in such a long time. The castle had made her homesick, but there was no way she could go there now. It was too far away, and she was too weak.
There was no use in thinking about it, then.
Inkie Pie met her Band outside Canterlot, and they followed her in silence too. She never looked back, choosing instead to walk in a straight line without stopping at any point. The crowd that was following her was bigger than usual. Maybe it was because Luna herself had joined them, maybe it was because everypony could feel that there was something strange in the way Inkie walked. It didn’t really matter.
There were no stops that day. Inkie kept on walking, always in a straight line, always looking forward. Luna was by her side, and sometimes she would use her wing to block the sun from Inkie’s eyes. Her Band was, for once, completely quiet.
With her walking so close, Inkie couldn’t help but think about Luna and what they have been talking about. Inkie had been a product of her own past; from the very moment of her birth, she’d been doomed to be herself. A pony with weak hooves, a filly that couldn’t work with her family.
How many traits, how many parts of her own nature were just a simple evolution of what had always surrounded her? After all, what was Inkie Pie? She was a musician now, if only because her father had seen that in her. What if she had been able to work the rocks? What if Igneous had seen a painter, or maybe a doctor in her? She was proud, because Igneous had been proud before her. She was a rebel, because Quartz had loved her to death. She was a leader, because ponies had chose to follow her.
Maybe if Inkie Pie had lived a normal life, things would have been different. She was nothing else than the accumulation of a series of random events. But if only one of those events had changed…
She smiled. Then she would be different. But that didn’t really matter.
After all, life wasn’t about being oneself: life was about being happy. Inkie Pie had found early that just being Inkie Pie, just being at peace with herself, she had accomplished happiness. But maybe that wasn’t the right way to do so. Or maybe there wasn’t a right way to be happy.
If she had been born healthier, chances were she would have never become a musician, but Inkie didn’t see that as a bad thing. She would have been something else. Maybe she would have been happier, maybe she wouldn’t. As it hadn’t happened, she could never know. And it didn’t matter.
Life had been what it had been, and she had lived it how she had lived it. If there was such a thing as luck, then Inkie Pie wasn’t sure if she had been lucky or unlucky. And that was it.
There was no revelation, no world-changing words. Inkie Pie thought about what it meant to be alive, and what it meant to be herself, and it meant nothing. She was what life had made of her, and she had made her life the way it was. If there were missed opportunities, then there was no reason to cry for them.
Eventually, the sun went down, and the moon was raised by Luna. Inkie felt tired, more tired than she had ever been, so she stopped and turned around, facing her Band.
She got her guitar one last time.
And she started playing.
Inkie played many songs that night. She used everything that she had learned along her way to do so: every chord that had made her hooves bleed, every thought that had inspired her, every memory that lived with her. The guitar answered to her commands as always: mechanically, without life, as a simple extension of her body.
The strings hurt her hooves, as cold and sharp as ever. Her throat was dry and her voice trembled. Her back ached. Her stomach was empty.
She sang about the sad times and the happy memories, about her childhood and her teenage years, about her adulthood, and about her death.
Even during her last moments, Inkie Pie was unable to sing about anything that didn’t relate to herself.
The concert went on for most of the night. And with every song, Inkie would feel weaker and her hooves would bleed more. The strings soon got stained, and the sound became almost unbearable.
But she didn’t mind. She kept on playing. Even when she could no longer feel her hooves, even when her voice broke down and she could barely whisper. She used every little bit of energy left in her, she forced her body to the very limit.
And finally, she passed away. She never stopped singing.
The moment she fell to the ground, the Band broke the silence with their screams. Some tried to help her, to bring her back to life, but it was useless. She was gone.
Inkie Pie was buried in that same spot, the one at the end of that trail of bloody hoofsteps she had created when she came out of the castle. As the years went by, many ponies would say that it was completely impossible for a mare as weak as Inkie to walk such a long way in twenty four hours, as she would have passed out due to blood loss after just a couple miles.
But nothing they could say changed the truth, and the ponies who had seen her swore that she was there.
Inkie’s tombstone was made of granite, courtesy of her parents. They used a rock stained with blood, but they never explained whose blood it was. It wasn’t hard to imagine it, though.
And after that day, life went on. Many cried for Inkie’s death, many didn’t. It didn’t really matter, anyway. Or at least, that’s what she would have said.
Inkie Pie’s legacy went on for many, many years. The musical world would never be the same after her appearance. In the sky, Princess Luna created a new star that same night, one that musicians all over the world would look at when they felt like they didn’t know what to do.
Granite turned back to be one of the most marketable stones in the kingdom, something that greatly benefited the Pie family, owner of the biggest granite fields in the world.
And in the middle of a field, many miles away from Canterlot, at the end of a bloody trail that came from the very doors of the royal castle, laid an elaborate tombstone, under which rested Inkie Pie, the most influential musician that ever lived.
Her guitar was buried with her.
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It is finally out. Awesome
I am as excited as a chipmunk in a pile of nuts. Let's do dis.
Before I started reading I told myself I would write a detailed, well-explained review of this story. However, that has to wait until tomorrow. I can hardly focus on my phone's screen, and not because of tiredness.
My vision is blurry.
Absolutely gorgeous, this story is.
I followed you so I could see what your next story was right as it came out.
Best decision ever.
This is not quite what I would call a story. This is a commentary on being. This thin plotted masterpiece lacking a fraction of events as many other stories and less characters than some clopfics has succeeded in moving me to tears in ways I never thought before. The best part of this story is for me the line “I am not, however, an expert in anypony else’s life. I only know about mine, because it’s the one that I had to live.” And I have no idea why that jumped out. Congratulations and thank you for such a wonderful read.
"Proodread by:"
Probably the most hilarious spelling mistake one could make, considering the context.
3867546
Fixed!
3868565
...Dammit. Fixed.
Goddamn that's good cover art. I'd ink Inkie pie's pie any time.
My heart, it weeps
My mind, it knows
My feels, I can't hold
So touching, to my soul.
Honestly, this has to be one of my favorite stories I've read on this site. Managing to form tears but in a good way.
Bravo sir. Bravo indeed.
Excellent.
Woah that was deep. It was a great idea (aka concept). Extremely well planned. Wow is the only word. But you know it doesn't matter.
Metal forever.
3869801 Not your failures. Our failures, or even my failures. I was the last to edit it.
This story is a gem.
-SS
I have good and bad news.
The good news is this.
The bad news is the first dislike. Nuuuuuuu!
Like, favorite, all the good stuff.
Wow...just...wow.
This story left me torn. On one hand, it sets up something absolutely phenomenal. On the other, there are three points in this story where it really lost me:
1)
I hate to say it, but here's my solution to the "mystery": plot convenience and/or lazy writing. As cliché as it may be, I'd much rather have seen the usual "rebellious kid runs away and buys a guitar" thing...
2) The whole idea that Inkie Pie was this incredibly influential musician that "changed the face of music forever." Okay, it isn't that much of a stretch if I think about someone like Ray Charles, for example (and many elements of Inkie's story aren't very different from his), but even he isn't singled out this way. It's okay if we only go as far as saying she was one-of-a-kind and very influential, but to elevate her to an almost godlike status... it kinda ruins the mood that had been set up along the way.
3) The conversation with Luna. No matter how much Inkie has "learned about life," she isn't well over a thousand years old, so when she starts lecturing a princess who is is the point that this story becomes forced. To put it bluntly: their lines should have been reversed.
That's about it. This story reaches for a magnificent catharsis, but because of the things described above it doesn't quite get there in my opinion. Still, good work!
3876681
Oh, hey! Long comment. I like that. Thanks!
And... well, I guess that the story can't really be perfect for everybody. However, I guess I'll answer to your comment, if only to show that I thought a lot about this story while writing it : P
The first point isn't exactly lazy writing, as in, I didn't just think "yeah, I'm not interested on this part, let's move on" with Igneous' choice to buy Inkie an instrument. This story isn't as much about a musician as it's about a messiah -- not in a literal way, but Inkie is a messianic archetype, and as such, she gets the role of a "chosen one." You can see a lot of paralels between her and Jesus (which in our occidental culture is the go-to messiah literature-wise, although there are more): the guitar is the cross, the Band are the apostles, she has a Last Dinner, etc.
The figure of the father in messianic mythos like this one is usually a very important one, as it plays a main role in the character's childhood -- usually, if the character is the son of a deity, such god is his father 90% of the time, although the mythos varies between cultures. So, for the first part of the story, Igneous is Inkie's God, in the way that A) creates her and B) guides her through her life. Note that is Igneous the one that always stops Inkie when she's trying to work that granite rock, and the one that buys her the guitar.
The God, in a classical messianic story, creates the messiah to share its message. In this case, the "message" that Igneous shares with the world is his pride, more or less -- it's the part from him that Inkie gets when she's young, and a main trait of her songs later.
I played with that central role of the fatherly figure, as well as with the idea that Igneous, proud as Inkie, can understand his daughter better than anypony else, even herself. So, when he buys the guitar, following some kind of hunch that only he can understand, he's fulfilling the role of the God, as well as doing the last thing he'll ever do for Inkie. Note that the guitar represents the cross (or, using terms that don't drink from Catholicism so much, it represents the sacrifice that Inkie will make for the entire world). Igenous creates his daugther when he impregnates Quartz, then guides her through her life ("do not work in the farm; be a musician") and kills her indirectly (he gives her the guitar, which will bring her death).
So, from a symbolic point of view? That part makes sense. From a purely storytelling perspective, though, I can see your concerns. It does look like lazy writing. I can assure you that it isn't, though.
The other two points are more or less the same -- the problem is that I wrote them with this story as a symbolic tale as well as a simple story per se. Inkie fills the role of the messiah, the "chosen one" that reveals the word of God to ponykind. By the time she becomes a musician and goes from "novice" to "legend," Igneous is not anymore her God, as she becomes a messenger of her own faith (the whole deal with her songs, that talk about how to live). As such, she's not a simple musician. That's why I said that she changes the entire world -- it's a (not very) subtle reference to religion. "Inkism," her music, is just another word for [insert religion here], and the way it "touches" whoever listens to it is a paralel with how some people find faith when they discover a particular religion. Inkie creates catharsis whenever she goes.
The Luna part is the same. Also, from a storytelling POV I do believe it makes sense: Luna is way older than Inkie, but she's not wiser. She's been trapped in the moon for one thousand years, after all, and in canon we see that she's still pretty socially awkward. In this fic, she can't forgive herself. I don't think she would hesitate in looking for help in another pony that seems like she can help her, even if that particular pony is not immortal.
So yeah, Inkie is younger, but she's wiser. Again, I wrote her as a messiah -- from a spiritual/mental point of view, she's far beyond a normal pony. Luna just looks for help. I don't see why the princess would know more about life than Inkie Pie.
But, long comments aside, opinions are subjective. I'm sorry if the story didn't get through you for those three points, and I hope I've explained why I chose to write it that way. Cheers!
3877250
I removed my first comment. In retrospect, it's... out of place, to say the least. Then again, for me, it did kinda reflect the mood some of the earlier chapters were setting up. And I liked it...
Hmm... the "messianic parallel" does indeed offer an interesting perspective on this tale. I just don't think it ever managed to get through to me. Part of the problem may be the fact that the story has a very distinct message to deliver, but does not manage to conceal it well enough. In other words, because of the things that I've mentioned, I can't look at it as "just a story about a filly who becomes a musician," and because the message did not get through, I could not simply overlook these issues and focus on what is behind the story, although that may be attributed to my own lack of attention to detail.
Of course, I must mention that I did not try to look at this story as if it were just a "disguise" for something far greater, and did not spend much time looking for any "greater meaning" to what was happening, because that wasn't what interested me about it. I tried to look at it as just a simple and immersive story, which is what attracted me to it in the first place. It kinda ruins a story for me if I have to attribute something "deep" to it in order to enjoy it. Not to say it's bad, just saying that it's kinda disappointing that you had to explain it to me...
As for Inkie being a messiah... well, it just doesn't strike a chord with me. Her being considered the "legend of legends" in music was already a stretch, but now this?
Don't get me wrong, I still think it's a clever idea. I just don't think this was the right way to execute it. If I look at this as a story about a musician, all of these allusions feel a bit too downplayed, perhaps even out of place once I start thinking about them the way you've described them. If I look at it as a metaphor for a messianic figure, then it just doesn't hit me, because the way the story plays out makes it seem more sensible to think of it as the former (I hope that made sense...)
Also, the idea that Luna, an alicorn that has lived for millennia, learns from somepony like Inkie is plausible, but the conversation itself is where it starts to fall apart. It goes so well in the beginning: the two of them exchange brilliant lines, but toward the end it turns into Inkie giving Luna a lecture as if such ideas about life, death, etc. were entirely new to her. If both parties were on an equal level, both learning an equal amount from each other, then it might have been a little better. Life is a learning process that is only interrupted by death, and whenever two people meet, both learn from each other, never just one of the two from the other.
I suppose the point I'm trying to make is that, based on what you've told me, as well as what I've read, the story could have been a little more "down to earth" in order to work as the story of "Inkie Pie the musician." Either that, or you would need to distance it from such humble roots in order to make it a bit more clear that something much greater is being discussed. The best, of course, would be to be able to do both simultaneously...
Anyway, that's my two cents!
3877604
Well, everybody has his own tastes, as I said. I wrote the story with the idea of writing about a messiah, and then I saw that picture and I thought "hey, I got it." I guess that if you don't like the idea of her being a legend on her own then the entire fic is just weird, but that was the whole point of the fic: to write about an extraordinaire individual. I chose Inkie as such mostly because A) this was a present for a friend, so it was based on that picture, and B) the story I had imagined fitted Inkie perfectly.
So yeah, you're right: the story could have been a little more down to earth if I wanted to write about "Inkie Pie the musician," the problem here is that my intention was completely different : V
And the fact that I had to explain it to you... Well. I wrote it as something extremely symbolic, and I do believe that every reader has to think about what everything means on his own. So if you read this as a simple story, then read it as a simple story -- that's how books work! I just used your comment as a justification to ramble about some of the symbolism that I had included. I've got ego like that.
I still think that the whole point of the Princess chapter is for Luna to learn from Inkie. Having Inkie learn from Luna would have destroyed the whole archetype thingy D :
(I really wanted to write about a messianic archetype. I guess that I might have been a little overboard. I still love this fanfic with all my heart, though)
3877641
Hey, don't get me wrong, I still liked it...
It's just that I didn't get what must have been the intended message (that's probably my fault), and the parts that were speaking to me are kind of downplayed toward the end. The story felt like it relied so heavily on the metaphor of Inkie being an influential musician that I was led to believe that's what it's about. Then again, in my opinion, a powerfully symbolic story is even more powerful if one could always say "it's just a simple story" as well, since then no one can claim that "it's all just an excuse to force some sort of message," so that shouldn't have been a problem...
Inkie learning from Luna wouldn't necessarily have destroyed the archetype. People tend to overemphasize whatever "divine" qualities have been attributed to messianic figures throughout history, and they forget that they were ordinary human beings, much like ourselves. Their teachings weren't even all that "groundbreaking" once you think about them ("love thy neighbor," etc.) Instead, they were enlightened enough to always tell the people around them what they needed, and not necessarily what they liked, to hear. But even they were fragile mortal beings in the end. Even Jesus, right before his final sufferings, prayed to be able to avoid what he knew would be his inevitable fate ("take this cup away from me...") In other words, the archetype is fine, but after a while it places a little too much emphasis on Inkie being some "divine figure," and perhaps with her being mortal and Luna being immortal, she could have learned something as well.
Of course, at the end of the day it's still your story, so I'm not the one who should tell you how to write it. And think of it this way: you got me interested enough to have me spew out three long comments' worth of nonsense, so I believe you're the winner here...
Reading this was like latching on the side of a train filled with pride and pain hurtling through the fire and flames for greatness and glory.
I'm glad I read it.
3879714
That sounds like a DragonForce song.
Now that that's over, I really enjoyed this. Glad I clicked on it.
I think the comments have more words than the story...
3887010
Well that was one of the best things I've read on this site.
3893917
Yeah, I see your point. The meaning there was that Igneous doesn't respect them as individuals, but he respects Inkie's Pride as something that's there and that has to be taken into account.
Still, I'm changing the wording to avoid confusion. Thanks for pointing it out!
An interesting story with a great lesson.
Excellent job
derpicdn.net/img/view/2014/1/21/530262__safe_animated_pun_chibi_inkie+pie_marble+pie_game_chubbie_link_blob.gif
Weird story. Good, but weird. Very different from LSSTWD.
Well this certainly was an interesting read.
Not just because I like Bob Dylan, but also because of the whole 'pony who influenced all of music' thing. I just really love music and the people who make it, and I've been thinking of my own (considerably less stark and pessimistic) take on the idea, except with The Beatles serving as the insperation.
I did find Inkie Pie's world view to be rather nihilistic and selfish for my tastes, what with 'live in the present since the future and past mean nothing' thing, but I see what your getting at, so I can't fault you on it.
Do wish it had a slightly more upbeat ending (i don't know, got married and had kids or something), but, she found her purpose in life, and that's always a good thing, and it does seem like she changed the world for the better, which is also a good thing.
Solid, interesting read that really makes you think.
4006690
It does sound somewhat nihilistic, doesn't it? I need to read more on that movement. (And yeah, I guess it is a selfish philosophy. Inkie is very selfish, after all.)
A story about music with The Beatles as the main inspiration would be awesome. And far more upbeat than this, thankfully.
Thanks for the kind words!
I really liked this story. At first glance it seems to be rather simple and perhaps a bit bland, but as you keep reading it you realize that it's actually deep and touching and just really powerful somehow.
So really, I'm saying that this story is just like Inkie's music in the story.
This story says so much, and yet says so little.
It was a poetic story of life itself.
-
This is no ordinary structure.
Sure its the same as any other.
Made of wood, rock and earth.
But this structure is special.
This structure is a house.
But it is not just any house.
This house is the one that has seen me smile and laugh.
It has also seen me cry and weep.
Let in the warm and sweet air of spring, and kept out the cold and bitter air of winter.
Gave me a place to have fun and make memories with friends.
And gave me a place to go when i needed to be alone.
This is the house that had seen me grow.
This is my home.
--
Its funny how you can be reading something and have a few words like "the house that had seen her grow" pop up and then the next thing you know, you are writing something like what you see above.
In my massive amount of reading, i find some chapters that make you think long and hard. Bits of stories that give you another perspective on life. To practically see inside the mind of another living person. Chapter 10 is one such chapter.
And you sir made me cry.
Any old story can make you smile and laugh. But it takes a truly good story to make you cry and weep.
I read this right after it was posted but only just remembered to come back and comment. (The perils of reading offline as an .epub.)
There aren't many fanfictions that can claim to be both classically written and worthy of becoming a classic. This one genuinely impressed me on every page. I noticed the Bob Dylan influence early on but you managed to never appear derivative.
Really, really enjoyed this, and I can't praise it as much as I felt I needed to while reading.
So thanks for that.
*Claps for eternity*
One of the best stories on the site and saddest.
Inkie is such a badass xD
This is such a good story :D
Bravo
That was nice.
This has some strong New Testiment vibes. Once that clicked in my brain, I needed to reread the whole work for full effect. This story will definitely linger with me for a while.
Oh, well, reading the comments explains some stuff..... the whole 'messianic figure' allegory and metaphor... that explains why I didn't care for it because, yeah, I saw none of that, and don't really see how it fits well either. I just got the feeling this is some fans overly hyperbolic, biased, and exaggerate retrospective on somepony that they elevate WAY above their actual impact and reality. Because other wise, so much doesn't make sense. Or does and is just... whiskey tango foxtrot... like the whole, endlessly trying to make herself suffer for the sake of suffering just came off as stupid and pointless and bullheadedly dense, BUT it's the sort of thing you'd expect from a story of some 'great artist' with the whole (BS) trope about how only those in deep pain can make 'true beauty' and 'real art' or whatever. While over stating just how large an influence one pony could have like that to the degree of 'every single facet of Equestrian music from that moment on owes everything to her" which is, again the type of over the top, and wholly unrealistic statement that type of fan biography would use.
As a metaphor.... bleh, this is also why I dislike stories that rely on metaphor and allegory above storytelling and narrative, because it requires taking things from outside of the narrative and not having any clue that is the case, while sacrificing internal logic for the sake of the allegory. The 'True meaning' the story is meant to have. I much prefer the meaning to come from the actions in the story, and be judged on that, rather then feel stories have meaning intrinscly implanted in them. Basically, heavy proponent of the idea of 'death of the author' but with an added few wrinkles. So this type of story is just.... not at all my type of narrative.
8400998
I mean, thanks for the comment, but I legitimately have no idea what you're talking about. As in, I don't understand your words. You start a sentence and then seemingly forget halfway through and end up talking about something completely different. What?
Like -- you didn't like the story, I got that. It's an old one anyway, so I can see that happening, honestly. The most symbolic shit in it, you disliked because you didn't understand it was symbolic? I mean, I don't think you need to know what I was picturing while I wrote the story to get it, really. Character sacrifices herself in front of her followers while carrying a heavy object on her back, bleeding all the way. Not exactly subtle symbolism there; I wrote this back when I was still a total novice.
But, I mean -- I know this sounds as me trying to be snarky, but it really isn't. I legitimately don't understand what you're saying. You should get a proofreader or someone to check what you're going to post before doing so, because otherwise you're illegible. I'm ESL too, so I get the struggle, trust me, but yeah. Right now, I can't really reply to this.
8406859 Yeeeaaahh, it was kind of late at night and I was a bit tired when I wrote that.....
Had one idea of the story in mind, then saw the comments and, all the stuff about what it 'really meant' and how it was supposed to be an allegory and just, kind of brain dumped issues with that whole idea of overly heavy allegory and why I don't care for it.
Like I said, reading, I just saw it as kind of an only slightly exaggerated version of some VH1 'Rockumentary' of her life that overly embellished and overly dramatized everything, while playing up how big and important and world changing she was to a hyperbolic degree. Then see... ohh, no... it wasn't anything related to this at all. And no I saw none of the allegory, at all. I rarely look for it, and in this case, don't think it held up well or worked as allegory because of just how different things really were.
Never saw that, for one, nothing in here really seemed to me to be a 'sacrifice' of any kind. She wasn't choosing to do something for the good of others, wasn't giving up something because it was 'right' wasn't really doing anything but stubbornly insisting she needs to suffer, just because of some borderline masochistic sense of self loathing to me. Her dad should have taken her to a therapist, not a music store. The 'heavy object' i had figured she'd just gotten used to it and it wasn't really that heavy by then. The blood, yeah that was overtly symbolic, but thought it was going for some 'bled for her work' 'true art can only come from those who've known true pain and suffering' style idea.
Which I think was part of the point I was rambling about, how I can't really see the allegory working because of how far some of them stretch, and cause I tend to just look at things as they are, not as 'they are meant to be'. Hell had to have it flat out explained that Aslan=Lion Jesus. So yeah not a story I was a fan of, mostly because it's a type of story I just don't really care for much. Not bad just, not for me.