//------------------------------// // 4: Vacation Day/Night Music // Story: Sour Days, Sweet Nights // by pjabrony //------------------------------// “How’s she doing it?” “I don’t know. There’s no way I wouldn’t be up now.” Moon and Little were looking over Sour’s prone form, the sun’s light dancing on her eyes. They weren’t even bothering to whisper anymore. Reggie and Garlic had finished packing up all the rest of the camp supplies and had just latched the tailgate of the cart, slamming it shut. They joined in the amazement. Nopony they knew could sleep so soundly outdoors with that much light and noise going on. “Should we wake her?” asked Reggie. “I mean, is she all right? Maybe she’s not feeling well.” “I know I always prefer to be allowed to sleep until I get up naturally, even more so if I’m ill,” Little said. Everypony looked at her and nodded. “On the other hoof, though, we do have something of a schedule for the next few hours. We want to get into Canterlot in good time.” They all stared, hoping that the effect of watching would wake her up, as so often happened. It was known that ponies had a sense for when someone was looking at them, even if they couldn’t see or hear them. But Sour Sweet evidently lacked it. “What if we started cooking breakfast?” Moon asked. “I was planning to wait until we got to Canterlot. We really don’t have enough for a full breakfast. I was counting on stocking up.” Garlic was apologetic, but he stomped his hoof. “Do you think we can get her in the cart while she’s still sleeping?” Everypony looked at Little. “I’ll give it a try.” It took a few seconds of hard focus before the glow of Little’s horn was matched by one around Sour’s body. She strained as she lifted her head, but Sour did lift off the ground high enough to reach the cart. Halfway there, though, she stirred and snorted. “I lost her!”Little cried, and Sour fumbled in the air, trying to spread her wings before collapsing, stumbling on her hooves, then falling on her face. “Sorry! Are you all right?” Sour was trying to brush the dirt off her face, and finding her hooves ill-suited to the task. “Yeah, I’m not hurt, just a few scrapes. But what do you think you were trying to do?!” “You should have lifted her higher.” Moon was already helping her up. “She nearly landed cleanly.” Now fully awake, the ponies brought Sour up to speed on what had happened. “Really? Just wake me up next time, OK!” “I didn’t want to,” Little muttered. “It’s not a big deal. My alarm clock wakes me up every day.” Sour mounted up into the cart. Despite her protests of being awake, she stretched her legs sideways across the back seat, and had to pull them in when Garlic and Reggie got in the middle. “You guys aren’t driving?” Moon flew in next to her. “We won’t be more than a half hour into Canterlot.” “And the stallions can’t control the cart like unicorn magic can.” “Not quite. They could, if they kept it slow. But, well…” The cart was starting to move under Little’s direction. “Well, what?” asked Sour. “Manehattan’s a mixed city. In fact, it’s the Earth ponies who are the plurality. But Canterlot has an outright majority of unicorns. And when you get that many together, there’s a certain kind of class structure, it’s, um…” Little turned around, taking her eyes off the road, and shouted over two rows. “You can say it without offending me. They’re full-on snobs.” “Yeah, they kinda are. And I shouldn’t worry, because Little’s not like them at all. Point is, if they see a unicorn riding in a cart with two Earth pony stallions pulling it, they’re going to assume that Garlic and Reggie are servants.” The ride into the city was uneventful, though the ponies couldn’t describe the landmarks as they could leaving Manehattan. The ponies noted how Sour marveled at the great mountain and explained that they could have never approached the city from the east. They pulled up to the right side of the castle where stabling was available for the cart. Little pulled a couple of bits out of her saddlebag and paid an attendant to park for them. “Is it OK to just walk into the castle like this?” asked Sour. “Sure, why not?” Garlic replied. “But you all go on. I’m going to hit some of the boulangeries and delicatessens so that we have good food for a long time.” Little reached into one of her saddlebags and pulled out a purse, from which she extracted a few gold coins that caught Sour’s eye. “Take some bits. Anything you want more than this, let me know and I’ll pay you back.” Garlic walked off, and they all entered the palace. “The Day Court should be well underway by now,” said Reggie, and, on seeing Sour’s confusion, continued. “That’s when Princess Celestia hears petitions and supplications from anypony who cares to make the trip. It’s held most days unless she’s out of town. And if she is, then Night Court is held by Princess Luna. But if Hoof Dame is working, then it’s got to be Day Court. She’s in service to Celestia herself, not the castle.” He kept eye contact to see if she had understood, but he had no chance to explain further, as they had reached the auditorium just inside the entrance. The room was divided in three sections, and a guard explained that if they were waiting to speak to Princess Celestia, they should keep to one of the wings, but if they were simply in audience, they could take the center section. Very few ponies were in the middle, and the four of them reached the third row before they slid into the bench. The princess, towering over everypony else, was reading a scroll while some petitioner went over her own copy. It was apparently some fine legal point they were discussing, and not particularly interesting. Guards in polished metal uniforms stood to either side of the table, and facing the side, dressed in a demure black outfit was an orange unicorn with an indigo mane. As Celestia reached for a teacup and sipped from it, the unicorn removed the cup and walked over to the side. She held the cup under a tap, brought up a few leaves of tea in her magic field, dried the cup with a towel, and diverted the stream of water to form its own ball that hung in the air next to the tea. Stepping back and focusing, she caused the water to boil in midair before colliding it with the tea, then funneled the entirety through an invisible stream back into the cup. It had taken no more than a few seconds, but it had the grace and elegance of a dance. So there was a point of contrast when she turned back to the table, spotted Little waving to her from the seats, and dropped the teacup nearly a foot before she recovered and held it with her magic again. A few drops spilled onto the carpet. The tinkling of the cup prompted Celestia to raise her head. With a smile, she turned back to her business and slashed a signature on a document. “There, that is good enough to begin on. Come see me again if you cannot work out the details.” The ponies were dismissed with a wave of her hoof, then she turned back to her attendant. “Is something wrong?” “Not at all, Your Royal Highness. Excuse me.” “No excuse necessary, it’s just the first time you’ve made a misstep at court in ten years.” “It shan’t happen again, Ma’am.” Her orange coat couldn’t hide the deeper shade of red she was turning. “I expect it won’t, because of your own perfectionism. But come, tell me what’s wrong.” “Nothing of your concern, Ma’am.” She clearly would have preferred to leave it at that, but a question from the princess warranted a full answer. “I noticed some friends of mine I hadn’t expected to see.” “Are they those in the observation gallery?” Pointing to Little and the others, Celestia said, “Have them come here please.” A guard lifted the barrier to the gallery and the ponies walked up. Moon saw that Sour seemed reluctant to join them, but since she had been seated in the middle, they pushed her up to the princess. It took but a moment for Little to explain why they had come to Canterlot, and that made Celestia’s smile only grow wider. She beckoned the orange unicorn to come closer. “Yes, Ma’am?” “Hoof Dame,” Celestia said, “why didn’t you ask me for leave to visit your friends, given that they had invited you?” “My duties to Your Royal Highness come first.” “Dear sweet Hoof Dame, you do your job as well as anypony could ask. You should balance that with spending time with friends as well.” Hoof Dame bristled before the princess. “But Ma’am—“ “I have come to a decision.” Pulling herself up to her full height, Celestia spoke with the projection and clarity that she used for speaking at court. “Hoof Dame, I dismiss you from my service for a period of two weeks. A severance of one month’s pay shall be issued to you in recognition of a long and faithful employment.” Back in her low voice she said, “In other words, go take a vacation.” “But who shall care for you, Ma’am?” “There are other hoofmaidens in the castle. I shall borrow from my sister or try out somepony new. Now, will you be on your way, or should I make it three weeks?” Coming to the conclusion that she could not balk her mistress, Hoof Dame took a deep breath, regained her composure, and bowed. “I take my leave, Ma’am.” As prim as though she were on parade, Hoof Dame led her visitors out of the court area and into a side hall. Little, Garlic, Sour, and Reggie quickly got lost with the number of turns they made and flights of stairs they took, but Hoof Dame knew the castle down to every room, and Moon had a good sense of direction anyway. They entered a room with sparse furniture, but that immaculate and tasteful, and Hoof Dame shut the door behind her. She turned toward Little, and all the ponies witnessed the veins in her neck and forehead swell. Leaping half a meter into the air, she extended her hoof and brought it crashing down upon the crown of Little’s head, just to the right of her horn. Yet even this violent maneuver had been executed with grace. “You got me suspended! It’s going to take me ages to rebuild my rapport with the princess! Couldn’t you have waited a few days for me to figure out how to get around to seeing you? You always do this!” Her pent-up rage spent, Hoof Dame turned away from Little. “So very nice to see you all,” she said. The one she did not greet was Sour, and they realized that she wasn’t going to address her until formally introduced, so concerned was Hoof Dame with protocol. Moon took the lead. “Hoof Dame, this is Sour Sweet, visitor from the other world. Sour Sweet, this is our friend Hoof Dame.” Everypony watched the two of them to see if they would have the humorous interaction hoped for. “A pleasure to meet you.” “Charmed.” They all stood in silence for a few seconds. “My apologies for my outburst just now. Little sometimes grates on my nerves,” Hoof Dame said. But I do love her in my own way.” “You don’t have to be sorry. I’ve come to make her acquaintanceship myself. And I want to bop her one now and again as well.” Perhaps because they were discussing her, Little got back on her hooves, a lump forming under her mane and her eyes spinning in her head. “Ooh, ugh. I don’t mind if you get upset, but please don’t hit me. That hurts me far more than it does you.” “See, this is why I hit you,” Hoof Dame replied. “You’re supposed to say that the other way. ‘I don’t mind if you hit me, but don’t be mad.’ But let’s not relive it. What are our plans?” “Road trip,” Reggie got Hoof Dame’s attention for the first time. “Head out west, see Equestria.” “All right, I’ll pack.” Sour raised her eyebrows. “Just like that? I thought you wouldn’t be interested since we sprung it on you.” “Since I’m not going to be staying around the castle, and since all my friends will be on this road trip, it stands to reason that I want to be there too.” She floated down a suitcase and loaded it up with essentials. Hoof Dame’s packing was as efficient as everything else she did, so it wasn’t long before she was heading for the door. But as she was set to leave, Little cleared her throat for attention. “Bring your strings too, please.” “But we’re going west, not back to Manehattan, or so Reggie said. Unless…how tightly packed is your cart?” Little stammered over her response, so Moon said, “We’ll make it work. Bring them anyway.” Rolling her eyes, Hoof Dame went into her closet and levitated down a triangular case of black lacquered wood. She led them out a much shorter route to the lot where the cart was. But when she saw the state it was in, she shook her head. Garlic had loaded the rear with packages of breads and cheeses that would keep for a long time. But it took several lashings and cords to ensure that nothing would fall out, and there was that much less room for seating. “This will not be very comfortable,” Hoof Dame said, taking up the remainder of the space with her baggage. “And I suppose that we’re camping out without all the accoutrements. Moon, dear, you couldn’t have packed half of what you need.” “As I said, we’ll make it work.” But as she took her seat, Moon kept her wings spread so she was half hovering over the cart. Hoof Dame sat where Sour had been traveling the whole time, but Sour shrugged and moved up one row, taking a pose halfway between Moon’s holding pattern and Hoof Dame’s prim upright stance. Only Little seemed calm as she occupied her usual place. The stallions were forced to ignore appearances and pull them out of Canterlot. It was a slow trot at first, but the cobblestones of the streets made for a pleasant drumbeat. Soon they were able to pick up speed as they found the western road. Even on the road they couldn’t go at full gallop. The tower of luggage that loomed even above the ponies’ heads threatened to fall over the cart. When they looked behind them, Garlic and Reggie could see deep ruts in the road from the overloaded back end. But they put their heads down and soldiered on. It was a conversation-free journey. At one point they stopped to eat lunch, finishing all of the fresh food they’d brought. Over the miles they trekked, until even the highest spires of Canterlot Castle were no longer visible in the distance, and the only sign of that city was Celestia’s magic lowering the sun in front of them. ***** It amazed Sour how much her emotions had changed over the four days. The slow pace at which the ponies did everything, and the fact that she was asked to do so little, gave her a sense of going back to her childhood. In particular, the addition of Hoof Dame to their traveling party had lifted her spirits. Even though it might not be in the spirit of friendship, she had classified the ponies in her head as “winners” and “losers,” with Moon and Reggie falling into the former category and Garlic and, especially, Little in the latter, but Hoof Dame had broken the tie to the winners, and so Sour was prepared to accept ponies as a group. As they’d covered the long distance she had opened up to Hoof Dame, and Sour found she enjoyed the classy pony’s mode of proper speech and intelligent conversation. As they set up camp, this night they were isolated, with no sign of civilization in any direction. But Little assured her that they would be protected by magical wards, and Sour’s confidence was bolstered when she saw that it was Hoof Dame who was casting them. From the cart the boxes of food were pulled down, but also all of the hard-edged boxes that the ponies had been keeping from Sour. “So, am I finally going to find out what all this extra stuff is?” “Absolutely! This is our favorite thing to do when we all get together,” Little said, but Sour was already looking at Reggie opening the case marked with his name in yellow script letters. She could see that it contained a series of wind instruments, from a flute to a clarinet or oboe to something that could have been a trumpet or trombone, or even a small euphonium. “You guys play music?” “Do we ever! And everypony else was right last night, it was best to wait for Hoof Dame.” Moon drifted over to her. “Sour Sweet, would you mind helping me unpack? I’ve got the most here.” What emerged from Moon’s boxes was a percussion section. They tackled a few that were still lashed together and proved to contain a drum set. But there were others that had cymbals and chimes and tubular bells, as well as a xylophone. Sour wasn’t sure where they should all go, but Moon was content with her pulling everything out and setting them up. She was getting used to maneuvering with hooves. Besides, she wanted to sneak looks at what everypony else had. Garlic’s case had instruments similar to his brother’s, but they were larger in size and, Sour reasoned, lower in tone. He had what could only be called a tuba, not a baritone or similar. What she thought of as a saxophone was also meant for the low brass. She found this odd, since Garlic had the higher voice, Reggie’s coming well from the basement in low rumbles. The two unicorns had the smallest cases, and what they pulled from them Sour couldn’t identify at first. They were wide triangles of dark wood with pegs on two sides. Then she remembered that references had been made to “strings” and placed them as the frames of pianos. But the boxes were empty and there was no way they had any material to play them. Nevertheless, out of the same case came piano wire that Little and Hoof Dame strung on the pegs with their magic. Although Moon had more setup to do, she was the first to produce sound, idly beating time on a snare drum with her hoof. It seemed to spur everypony to work faster. It threw Sour for a loop when Moon opened a bag full of drumsticks and pulled out eight at once. Sour watched her hold three between the feathers of each wing and one in each of her front hooves. Nestling herself in the middle of the drum set, Moon started hammering out a rocking drum solo that blasted Sour’s eardrums, the drumbeats hitting machine-gun fast. In between the drumming, she heard the thin rise of a bass note, and she turned to see that Reggie was blowing it on his horn, and had been for a while. Sour counted the seconds until she hit thirty, and she wondered if he wasn’t using that circular breathing that she’d heard of. She was more curious to hear how the unicorns’ instruments would sound, so she flew over to where they had finished stringing. Hoof Dame set the board in front of her and focused. Sparks appeared at different points on the strings, and as though they were hammer strikes, the sound of the piano came forth. Sour was about to compliment her on how she had made such a large instrument portable, but then she looked to Little. With an almost identical device, she was producing the sound of a violin. Then she altered her stance and it became an acoustic guitar, before changing again to a fully electric. “Wait—how are you doing that?!“ Little looked up, confusion on her face. “I mark off the sections of a string with magic, then vibrate the part between them. With more than one I make chords.” “Yes, but you wouldn’t be able to change instruments like that. It’s not just vibrating strings that make particular sounds, it’s what you surround them with.” “Oh, that’s just magic.” “’Oh, that’s just magic’,” Sour said, aping Little. “But it’s still impossible!” “No more than levitation.” Hoof Dame put down her own strings and came over. “Being able to make the strings speak in different voices is one of those instinctual things that any unicorn can learn to do. Actually making music with them, knowing the notes and the timing, that takes training. And actually, none of the types of playing were invented by unicorns. Anything we can do with the strings is in imitation of instruments created by Earth ponies. Some advanced unicorns, like Princess Twilight, can also make wind music, but that hasn’t spread down to the rest of us.” “Incredible.” “Oh, she also told us of a fantastic instrument from your world, one you also play without touching. She called it a theremin, and described the sound, but as yet no unicorn has been able to reproduce it. At some point I hope to import one.” Little looked up. “You didn’t happen to bring one with, did you?” “Don’t be stupid,” Hoof Dame responded before Sour could. “You would have seen if she had. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to say that. Let’s start the music.” Not responding to Hoof Dame’s insult, Little agreed, and they all got close to each other. Moon sat in the back, the two stallions to her left, Hoof Dame to her right, and Little in front. But they all took turns being the focus. The style of song ranged from melodic to dance to disco to surf music. No one pony sang two songs in a row, but they weren’t rotating. Moon sang the least, having a raspy voice that didn’t always fit. Sometimes Reggie and Little would duet, her high lilt countering his low voice delightfully. Hoof Dame had a smoky alto, but Sour got the feeling that she was holding back. And Garlic did most of the male vocals, being the only tenor. As they sang into the night, it also became a dance. Reggie and Garlic bounced to the music, Moon drummed while in hover, only Hoof Dame kept still and stoic. But the real show was Little. She kicked and bucked in time, made elaborate gestures where she held one end of a string down with her hoof while the other was held in magic, modulated the color of her magic to match a key change, and made lights appear in the air in the shape of a repeat or a coda symbol. She even used the mark tree sound from her own magic to accompany the songs, which was normally suppressed. They went on like this for some two hours, and Sour realized at some point that they weren’t playing for her, not to entertain, but for the simple joy of hearing familiar tunes and getting to be a part of making them. At Crystal Prep, they were educated in music as they were in so many other disciplines, but it was never the same. The ponies did it for friendship, and even if she were not there, they would still have been at it. Sour could have stayed up listening all night, but voices, hooves, wings, and horns were getting tired, and so the ponies decided to call it a night, promising that they would play more songs the next time they camped. “Rather than that,” she said, “you guys should play at towns and have the other ponies put you up in exchange.” In the middle of packing away, everypony stopped and looked at her with blank stares. “We’re not that good,” said Little. It’s not like we’re professionals. Maybe Hoof Dame could pull that off, but I don’t think she would play for money.” She shot them a skeptical look, but went back to helping Moon put away her drums. Before they all bedded down for the night, they established that, unlike that morning, everypony could sleep in, and they would take their time getting ready. Garlic had loaded the cart with supplies enough to make a good breakfast, and they had no pressing need to be anywhere in particular. Sour, pleased with this, decided that she would stay up a few more minutes. Again she was having trouble sleeping, but this time it was from excitement rather than nerves. She saw that Hoof Dame laid down and camped with the others, which belied the haughty pony’s usual comportment. But she kept her body straight and poised in sleep, as if she gave the place her dignity, rather than deriving it from a fancy setting. She had been the final decision maker for Sour, the one pony that they had needed to win her over. There was nothing that Sour respected more than competence, and Hoof Dame had it. Once the music started, though, it became clear that everypony had their own special abilities. It did not take long for her to decide to lie down with everyone else, rather than pacing the ground and taking practice flights to nowhere. Being in the air was fun, but it wasn’t something she felt a need for. Besides, she wanted Moon with her, both as a spotter and a companion, but clearly Moon was exhausted from playing the drums all night. She stared up at the stars and still couldn’t sleep. Now there was a new kind of pressure on her. She was their guest, but she still wanted to impress them and make a good name for her world. The last thing she needed was for Equestrians to get the idea that her species needed to be babied. What could she do? If they were in her world, it would be they who had the troubles, bereft of their magic and flight. Actually, the one who might best adapt was Reggie, Sour thought. He was the best at keeping things simple. But she was digressing. They were not in her world, and she had to deal with this awkward new body. No one could be expected to show off in a body they weren’t familiar with, right? But Sour’s mind had not changed, and to her that meant she was still herself. She was one of the top students at one of the best schools. She had won the spelling bee during the academic decathlon, and she could have handled that geometry problem as well, although that Twilight girl had the top grades and had earned her chance. Again her mind was wandering, as it so often did before sleep. The point was that if they had to engineer or calculate something, she was the person for the job, and the ponies would surely be impressed with her. Except that they didn’t need to engineer or calculate. They just used magic in one form or another. She was still getting distracted. No, worse, she was lying to herself. What Sour really wanted to do was to be in with the rest of them making music. But even to learn the dexterity that Moon had on the drums would take her years, not weeks. To say nothing of then actually learning the songs. She could sing, especially in chorus with others, but none of the songs were familiar to her. Perhaps she could join in and sing a song that she knew, and the ponies could figure out how to accompany her. But that didn’t actually solve her problem. Sour was trying to get the ponies to be impressed with her, not to let them show how quickly they could adapt. It was too much to think about. She decided to relax and sleep on it. This was a technique she had been taught many years before, to think as hard as she could about a conundrum and then get a good night’s rest. Often she found inspiration in the morning. She hadn’t used the technique in many years, since at Crystal Prep analysis was always preferred to inspiration. Slowing her breathing, she rolled over the phrase “impress the ponies, impress the ponies,” a hundred times before it wouldn’t stick, and she fell into unconsciousness. At one point during the night, Sour awoke with a start. It seemed to her that someone had called her name, softly and a little creepily. “Sour Sweeeet…” Raising her head, she looked around and pointed her ears in all directions, but she couldn’t see anyone. All the other ponies were asleep, not faking it to be sure. It might have just been a dream, and she put it out of her mind.