Winter was drawing to a close when the train from Canterlot to Vanhoover rolled along the tracks. Ludwig looked out from the windows of the car to see that every so miles, he would see ponies pushing snow, clouds being removed and even trying to wake up the animals that were asleep. As much as he tried to work further in finishing the tenth symphony, such a sight was peculiar to him. Looking over to the Cellist and DJ sitting across from him, he inquired, “Do you ponies have to move the seasons by yourselves and not let nature take its course?” before glancing at the unrolled magic scroll.
“It’s an Equestrian tradition,” Octavia explained. “Right before the beginning of a new season, we tend to play a part in making sure things run smoothly at certain parts of the year. For example, in Ponyville they have the running of the leaves to clear the leaves for winter. With Winter Wrap Up, certain ponies are usually assigned to clean up the snow and ice so that spring can begin the rules vary from town to town of course.”
“Where I come from,” Beethoven said. “We do not have this much control of the weather, nor the seasons that govern. Though I can give you ponies credit that you have a sense of balance. If the people of Vienna have such power, they would demand day to day that it shall be summer all year long except for Christmas in which snow would fall.”
“That’s quite understandable,” the Cellist nodded. “Since you’re here, and we should have enough time to set things up and to have one last rehearsal before the premiere tomorrow, I do want to ask you something since we’re where.”
“And that being?”
“I’ve noticed the schedule that in April, we’re going to be performing in the Crystal Empire, just right after the Equestrian Games too. So I was wondering if you know for certain what we’re going to be playing over there.”
Beethoven dug into his pockets, trying to find the particular scratch of paper, “April 29th? Ah, here it is. Since we have a choir at our disposal, I figured that they would become useful for the Choral Fantasy. Then after the Coriolan Overture, there would be a short rest before we introduce the world my Eighth Symphony.” Placing the paper back in his pocket, he added, “I figured that we would start rehearsing for the ninth right after that, and to give me a change of scenery to compose my Tenth.”
It was here that Vinyl tapped on Octavia’s shoulder and pointed at Beethoven. “Oh yes, I’ve nearly forgot. Vinyl has a question for you Ludwig that she promised me I would inquire you sometime.”
“What would that be, Fräulein?”
“About your Tenth, since it’s nearly a full year, how close are you to finishing?”
Beethoven opened up his composition book, “I have the beginning of the last movement written down. The other three movements are in a vault in Princess Twilight’s library for safekeeping. I’ve carefully chosen the right themes to work with, and I’m thinking of adding a piano to the symphony for the first time.”
“It’s rather a shame that Princess Twilight couldn’t come,” Octavia commented.
Ludwig looked up to his scroll before glancing at the gray Earth Pony, “Did you say something?” The cellist repeated her comment before the giant replied, “Yes, a shame indeed. Though I did read somewhere that the Moon Princess will be attending tomorrow, I know she liked my Third Symphony.”
_*_
The ponies of Vanhoover who came to the Orpheum Theater were tired. Those who bought the tickets and slumped into their seats had finished with Winter Wrap Up in their city. Breaking up the ice in the bay, removing snow from the street, guiding birds from the south to the warmer north, they were worn out. As ponies entered the grand old theater, the first thing they’ve noticed was the blank banner that hung over the stage, while some were confused, others just sat and waited in their seats.
The second thing they’ve noticed was that on the huge balcony in the very center, space was roped off while it displayed the banner of the Princess of the Night. Before the show began, a voice boomed, “Presenting her Royal Highness – The Riser of the Moon and the Stars, the Huntress of the Nightmares, Mistress of all things Fun, and Co-Ruler of Equestria: Princess Luna!”
Applause erupted as the midnight alicorn walked down the steps to her seat, waving to the occupants of the theater. Four Lunar Guards flanked her on either side with spears in their hooves before standing at attention to where the Princess sat.
Minutes later, from out of the side of the stage, a curtain parted to which the giant stepped out. Although he couldn’t hear it, the auditorium was full of murmuring and whispers as Ludwig marched to the very back where his seat was set up. In one pocket, he clenched a rosary, while he used his free hand to put the headphones over his cheekbones.
The lights dimmed and a spotlight came on stage to which a very old looking Earth Pony stallion with a beard came on stage. “Good evening everypony, and Your Majesty,” he nodded towards Luna. “Before we begin, I want to take this moment to tell you our program for tonight at the Orpheum. What you are about to hear is something rather unique, for the next eighty minutes, we’re going to hear a choir sing a series of prayers. It will be sung in the original language called Latin; the lyrics of which will be translated on the banner above me into Equestrian for all to follow. So sit back and listen to the masterful performance by the Canterlot Philharmonic and the Canterlot Opera Company of Ludwig van Beethoven’s Missa Solemnis.”
Ponies stomped their hooves as the curtain rose to reveal the orchestra and choir on stage. Sea Sharp came on stage with a grin as she went up to center stage, bowed, and stepped onto the conductor’s stand, taking the baton in her aura.
A hush came over the tired audience as the orchestra present themselves ready to begin. The first thing they’ve heard was an opening of strings, horns, winds, and timpani, playing with grandeur, purpose, and reverence for something gigantic. For the first couple of bars, a humble but noble theme rose in that darken theater like clouds of a storm.
Just then, the choir and the quartet of singers stood up, and upon cue, voices brought light to the dim theater. The singers, between the bursts of sound, took turns to humble the others while overhead, the banner begun to translate.
Kyrie eleison.
(Lord, have mercy.)
For several minutes, both choir and singers sang those two words, ranging from timid to rejuvenating while the orchestra binds them all together as a kind of order. The quartet of singers from Soprano to Baritone engaged in a harmonic conversation although they spoke those two words. Painting for everypony to listen to a world with its own mythology and mysticism like a forgotten legend. Strings from violins to double basses cast a spell with its melody and counterpoint while the winds and horns illuminated the stage like the lights overhead.
The words on the banner changed as the singers took the lead:
Christe eleison.
(Christ, have mercy.)
Although nopony had any idea who or what this Christ was, the singer's enter locks with their voices and their harmonies danced with the orchestra while the choir from time to time answers them. Notes climbed upward and tumble down like clouds in a wind, airy but full of substance that the listeners, not even Luna could explain. For some, their imaginations went towards the flight of the Pegasi, looking down at Equestria from the skies. What no one could deny was the vast majesty of sound that they were being treated with, even when it was sung in a completely different language.
In the back of the theater, as the microphone was picking up the vibrations of the orchestra and choir, Beethoven clenched onto his rosary from his pocket. “Er ist auferstanden,” he whispered as he worshiped the music.
_*_
After the applauding died down, Sea Sharp, along with everypony on stage turned their pages to the next section. The blue unicorn raised her baton, and a loud, ecstatic rush of drums and horns stampede forward.
Glória in excélsis Deo,
(Glory to God in the Highest,)
From the choir, voices raise above like fireworks with explosions of percussion, strings, and horns. Winds cascade outward from the sheer power of the strong beginning. Yet, curiously, just as it opened with an enthusiastic beginning, the violins and violas pulled it back to calm.
et in terra pax homínibus bonæ voluntátis.
(and on earth peace to people of good will.)
Pastoral and light became this sound word, like flying over the clouds at dawn over untamed mountains. Yet this moment of peace didn’t last long as the wind from the choir unexpectedly tossed and twirled like a lost kite over a beach. Climbing high one second and strong to low and gentle the next, many ponies decided to let go of trying to predict where it will take them next and just let their imaginary sails get caught in the wind.
Laudámus te,
(We praise you,)
benedícimus te,
(we bless you,)
adorámus te,
(we adore you,)
glorificámus te,
(we glorify you,)
With soft wind instruments now at the helm, the quartet of singers stood up. A song of thanksgiving drifted from their mouths into a bright sea of caressing violins, flutes, and clarinets.
grátias ágimus tibi propter magnam glóriam tuam,
(we give you thanks for your great glory,)
Up in the front row of the balcony, Luna leaned towards one of her guards and whispered, “Whatever god they’re singing about, it would seem that Mr. Beethoven is rather zealous in his music.”
“I’m not exactly sure what is going on,” the guard whispered back, “It’s like listening to an opera that they’ve forgotten the actors, costumes, sets or plot to sing it in.”
The choir joined in, gently at first as the repeated the music of gratitude, swelling up until it became like huge waves over the audience.
Dómine Deus, Rex cæléstis,
(Lord God, heavenly King,)
Deus Pater omnípotens.
(O God, almighty Father.)
But even then, the strings drew the enormous passion back before the quartet continued while the bows from the strings rippled gently as before.
Dómine Fili unigénite, Jesu Christe
(Lord Jesus Christ, Only Begotten Son,)
Once again, the choir returns for one last moment in its last rush to the shore.
Dómine Deus, Agnus Dei, Fílius Patris,
(Lord God, Lamb of God, Son of the Father,)
As they slowed down at the calming shoreline, the winds and brass let out a sound eerily similar to the pipes of an old organ before moving on. The quartet continued to play their voices, singing praises to a god they do not understand it, nor know about. But for Beethoven, his imagination returned to the grand cathedrals of his faith. Especially for the Easter, he remembered the Latin choirs, the burning of incense, the old story of death and resurrection, the hope of immortality, and the sacred communion at the end.
That was another thing he missed after his hearing had failed him, no longer was he able to hear the Gloria’s and Requiems became mute to him. He knew the reason why he wrote this a few years ago because to Ludwig, this was the only way he could worship, through music, in loving memory of the sacred words that were sung in those masses he used to listen to – by writing in the very language of God.
As the singers and choir went back and forth, the giant waited for the end of the Gloria for the fugue in the end. If this was a time to redeem himself and his music, this would be it.
in glória Dei Patris. Amen.
(in the glory of God the Father. Amen.)
The fugue swirled around the theater, transfixing the ponies at the heavenly music as the choir sang their hearts out. Almost like a ghost of Buch possessed them to sing something as complex as theme and counterpoint worked together to gravitate, generate something enormous that it could barely fit inside the auditorium. Notes drive themselves further into the beautiful unknown.
At the final, pounding, powerful chords there was a moment of silence before the ponies, including the Princess of the Night, stood up. Cheering at the mastery of what they’ve just heard.