//------------------------------// // From Finner // Story: From Finner // by The Wandering Bard //------------------------------// “Finner, guess what!” Lyric cried as she pushed open the houseboat’s door. Bits clinked together as she moved, her cloak weighed down by her coin pouch. The tavern had been full of revelers that night. The houseboat, however, was still. Lyric sheepishly slipped in, moving carefully so as not to disturb the stallion. The stove was out. Lyric looked upon it, her ears standing alert. Even while he slept, Finner kept the stove on low so that he would have heat in his home. The chips must have burnt away. This was quite likely, Lyric decided, and so she bent to open the stove door. The metal was cold to the touch. Not surprising, Lyric told herself. Yet, for some reason, her senses were on edge. As she fumbled for the shovel, her hoof bumped against the handle, and it fell over with a CLANG! Lyric winced at the sound. She dropped to the floor to feel for the shovel in the dark. As the ringing of metal faded away, she realized what was wrong. The houseboat was silent. Finner was not usually one to travel out late at night, not unless he was taking part in the merriment at the tavern. But he had not been there, nor had she passed by him on her journey back. And if he had been sleeping, she would have heard his snores when she returned, or at least he would have started when the shovel fell. Lyric’s heart hammered in her chest. “Finner?” she called again, her voice rising. No answer. He must be visiting Lady. Yes, that has to be it, Lyric thought as she raced to his bedside. Like her bunk, Finner’s bed was sheltered behind a curtain. She put a hoof to it, screwing her eyes shut. Steeling herself, she pulled it open. There Finner lay, the moonlight shining upon him through the window above his bed. His back was towards her. He was motionless, and he made no sound. “F-Finner?” Lyric’s voice shook as she approached. In his hooves, Finner held the portrait of a mare. Her coat was a pale pink, spotted with brown. Her mane was white, flowing. Lyric reached out to it. Still he did not move. Her hoof trembled, and she pulled it back. Although she wished she could deny it, she knew that Finner, her friend, was gone. Lyric’s legs buckled underneath her, and she sank to the floor. Her forehead rested against Finner’s bedside. With her fore hooves wrapped tightly around herself, Lyric wept. ~*~ Finner was carried up the path from the beach to where Lady lay. A fresh hole had been dug beside her. Lyric, and all of the ponies from Bluff, watched, solemn, as Finner was laid to rest. Once this was done, ponies came forward to share some anecdote of or to pay their respects to their beloved comrade. Lyric waited until she was the last to go. Stepping out of the crowd, she walked towards Lady’s stone. Lifting the seashell nestled atop it with her hoof, she beheld it with a kind of reverence before placing it on Finner’s casket. “Wherever you are, I hope that you and she are together again.” Her voice caught as she spoke. Wiping her eyes, she moved back to the space between the ponies and Finner’s resting place. Lyric took her lute up into her hooves and played a few chords, readying herself. When she had, she sang. Sleep now, dear one Here beside the sea Sleep now and forever Your spirit is set free Free to dance upon the gale And to skip on each wave You will never end your tale Alone in your grave For the waters are your spirit The birds’ cries are your song And the moon will always guide you In your journey on So sleep now, dear one Here beside the sea Sleep now and forever Your spirit is set free Towards the end, Lyric fought to keep her voice steady. Finner had only sung the song once, but she had spent hours with her lute, recalling the words and working out the melody. She could think of no better way to honor her friend. Those gathered thanked her, many with tears in their eyes. And then, one by one, they made their ways back into town. All except for a single stallion. Turning to Lyric, he held out an envelope. “Here,” he said. “It’s for you.” With quiet gratitude, Lyric took it. Once she had, the stallion turned to the task of burying Finner. After a moment, Lyric made her way down the road towards Bluff. Before she reached the town, she paused, surveying the area around her. Seeing that she was alone, she set to inspecting the envelope. Her name was written on the outside. She did not recognize the writing, but she was intrigued. Opening it, she pulled out a piece of parchment. The words were a slanted scrawl, but still legible enough for her to read. Lyric, it said, I dunno if I’ll get the chance teh tell yeh this, but I wanted yeh teh know that I believe in yeh. Yeh’re quite the musician, an’ yeh’re gonna be a darn fine storyteller teh boot. Yeh’re gonna go far, Lyric. I can tell. I’m sorry I won’t be there teh see it. But don’t cry for me. Just keep movin’, an’ always remember teh keep yehr head held high. From, Finner Her eyes watered as she read. Tears streamed down Lyric’s cheeks, landing on the paper she held. These were Finner’s last words to her, ones he felt were important enough for her to see. And he, with all his years, all his experience, all his wisdom, he believed in her. She hugged the letter to her chest. Thank you, Finner. She turned in the direction of the ocean. The wind blew off of it, towards her. She breathed in the scent of its brine. Seagulls flew overhead, their calls filling her ears. Through her tears, she smiled. I’ll always remember you. She brushed her hoof across her eyes, her cheeks, and tucked the letter into her cloak. Her task complete, she stood, stepping back onto the road. I will keep moving, Finner. She looked up to the sky. And I will always keep my head held high. Lyric took off down the road, passing through Bluff a final time, exchanging farewells with those she met along the way. But she did not stop, not until she was far along the path. When she did, she turned, taking one last, long look at the seaside town. From here, she could see it all: the weathered buildings, the main road, and, fading off into the distance, the ocean. She imagined that, if she looked towards the water hard enough, she would be able to see the houseboat, and the place where two ponies now lay. After many moments, she tore her gaze away. It was time for her to move on.