//------------------------------// // Chapter 39: Star Swirl the Bearded // Story: The Second Life of Moztrot // by CrackedInkWell //------------------------------// One thing I have been neglecting in this journal is, of course, Princess Sunbutt. Do not misunderstand me, reader, it is not that I ceased all communications with her since Hearths Warming; on the contrary, every Sunday at eleven on the dot, I attended her tea break from her duties at day court. We met in either her personal tea room adjacent to the Throne Room or in the royal gardens when the weather wasn’t too inclement. The reason why I left out this detail until now is that there wasn’t much for me to write about. Usually, the talk was about how I was doing and what my future plans were. And it should be kept in mind that we only had about an hour. On the last Sunday in March, the Solar Guards escorted me to the castle-like clockwork. They flew me to the front gate. One of the guards on duty asked why I was there. I told them, “I’m here to have tea with Her Highness, Princess Celestia,” they let me through and I was led to the gardens. Whenever Celestia has tea at that time of day and the weather is just right, she has it in a certain location in the hedge maze. A quaint little corner which contains a cast iron table, cushions, and one white alicorn. However, as I got closer, my ears picked up not only her voice but also someone else’s, not one of the servants or guards. It didn’t take me too long to put together who it was. “Mr. Star Swirl,” I said as I walked into the sanctuary. “I didn’t know that you were in Canterlot.” The old stallion looked up from his cup as the Sun Princess sat across from him. In between the two was the tea set and a stacked tray of oh so delicious sweets laced in sugar. “In fact, I didn’t know you attended these little tea breaks.” “I don’t,” he answered. “Her Highness wished that I would attend. Something about giving us a chance to catch up.” “Come join us, Wolfgang,” Celestia said. “There’s so much to talk about, so little time. But we have a seat for you here.” After taking my seat, I immediately went straight for the tarts. “Since you’re here,” I turned to the wizard. “I’ve been meaning to ask you where exactly do you live. I’ve been meaning to write to you, but didn’t catch that detail.” “I don’t have a permanent home for the time being.” “You mean you’re homeless?” “Not exactly,” Celestia said. “He gallivants around the country in a gypsy wagon. I offered him a more permanent residence here in Canterlot, but he insisted on traveling.” “I didn’t see the reason in staying here to begin with,” he explained. “The capital is not the same city that I once knew. Since the realm has changed I wanted to see what has and hasn’t withstood the test of time.” “Understandable,” I commented. “I visited my birthplace several months ago for… personal reasons.” “You’re not the only one,” Star Swirl nodded. “The other pillars have returned to their homelands. I have checked with them to see how they’re adjusting.” “And how are they?” Celestia inquired. He sipped his cup. “Last time I heard, Mist Mane has reclaimed her garden while Meadowbrook was fixing up her old tree home. The latter has a distant relative who not only is helping her, but she’s begun to teach him the craft of medicine. Flash apparently is trying to join the Royal Guard; he’s still a soldier at heart.” “What about the other mare and the giant?” “Somnambula and Rock Hoof? They and Stygian are assisting archeologists in uncovering villages and monuments from their pasts. This gives those who study in that field tremendous insight, not only in the locations that they’re digging up but also into what contemporary life was like, from somepony who was actually there.” He took another sip. “And what about you?” “Well before I say anything, how exactly am I supposed to get in contact with you if you keep moving about?” Celestia explained that they communicate through a magical journal of which they have the only copy. In other words, if I wanted to send a message to him, I’d have to go through the Postmaster Princess. Oh well. “Since you happen to be here,” I pointed at the wizard, “I figured that I’d offer you a personal invitation. As well as yourself, Your Majesty.” He raised an eyebrow, “An invitation to what?” “Well, just as I told Celestia here last week, I have a student who is learning composition from me. She is in the process of writing a symphony with a fresh, new, I might even say poetic take. In fact, she has so dedicated herself to composing it that she’s working extra hard in order to finish it by the next time we meet. My student is excited about this, of course, and I was hoping to invite a few ponies to come and listen to the premiere of it. And considering how you told me that you hadn’t heard a symphony before, Star Swirl, it would make perfect sense to invite you as well.” Grandpa Wizard looked over to the Sun Mare. “He’s teaching?” “Sweetie Belle, I believe it was?” I nodded as Celestia guessed right. “Yes, a young teenager, but has shown great promise as a composer.” He on the other hoof deadpanned. “You know, at this point, I shouldn’t be surprised.” “What?” both I and Sunbutt questioned. “Never mind,” he waved a hoof. “Just another sign of how much things have changed.” “How so?” I asked. After refilling his cup, he answered. “Mr. Moztrot, in the time that I come from, it just wasn’t heard of for mares to create music. I mean, it was one thing for them to play instruments or sing, but composing? Such a thing was unthinkable. However, I guess I shouldn’t be that surprised as anything can happen in a millennium.” “The only thing that doesn’t surprise me about this modern age,” I said, “is that ponies still -- thankfully -- have the same needs. Working, relaxing, eat good food, gulp down a good drink, be entertained and maybe rut a mare or two.” “Moztrot!” the wizard objected, nearly spitting out his tea. “Not in her majesty's presence.” “Believe it or not, he is always like this, if not worse,” Celestia rolled her eyes. “I’ll give him this, that if he were born later, I might have made him the element of either laughter or honesty. If anything, the very first time we met, he said to me something that I’ll never forget.” “Oh Goddesses,” Beardy groaned, “Do I want to know?” “I asked if any of the shorter guards salute with their doodles every time they look up.” I giggled as the wizard looked horrified while Celestia groaned. “What? She’s as tall as most ponies’ houses, can you blame me for thinking that?” “How is it that your music isn’t as vulgar as you are?” Star Swirl questioned. After reaching for the tarts, I replied, “Because I’m smart enough to never offend the ear when musicians play me. Oh, I don’t deny that I can get dirty, but my music is not.” It was around this time that a pony came into the tea sanctuary to inform Sunbutt that she was needed elsewhere. Celestia excused herself and we bowed as she got up, “I do hate to leave this early. But I hope that next week will be without interruption. Farewell Moztrot.” And with that, she left Beardy and myself to our own devices. “Well then,” I said turning to the old stallion. “Now that it’s just us, what shall we talk about?” I asked before stuffing my mouth with that sweet lemon tart. He got up, “Follow me,” he said. “I tend to think best when I’m walking.” So with a mouthful of that rich pastry, I followed him into the maze. I noticed (and he probably knew it) that we were taking the long way out as he led the way through the twisting, winding bushes. The old wizard spent a good minute in thought while I patiently waited for him to start. “How old were you when you found out that you had a gift in music?” “Four.” He raised an eyebrow, “Really now?” I nodded, “If you were to ask anyone in my family, they would have told you the same story. Back then, I lived in a town called Saltzberg. It’s a sleepy little place where apparently the greatest thing to happen was me being born. Anyway, when I was a little colt, my family used to tell me that as soon as I learned how to walk and talk, I became fascinated by patterns. In fact, they used to give me a piece of chalk and I would do sums on everything I could get my hooves on. On the walls, the floor, the tables, the chairs, everywhere. But when I heard my Papa play on the keyboard, I was enchanted by the sound, and so was my older sister. Eventually, this magical sound had gotten to me that I would look into the sheet music to find patterns and why they sounded the way they did. “One day, Papa came home and saw little me on the floor. He asked me what I was doing, ‘A keyboard concerto,’ I told him. ‘And I’m nearly finished with the first part.’ For I was beginning to understand how musical notation worked. Unlike the many other scrawls which the maid would have washed away, Papa copied what I had written on the floor and played it out on the keyboard. I guess since then… he knew. That I wasn’t like the other children who couldn’t understand what these notations meant. And from there, he taught me everything he knew. Harmony, counterpoint, key signatures, rhythm, you name it. He cultivated genius within me and the encouragement to create.” After turning a corner, I asked, “What about you?” He frowned, “My story is nowhere near as miraculous as yours.” “But you can tell me. I mean, you’re Star Swirl. The unicorn that has contributed so much to the modern world. You were really the first Renaissance Pony, so good at a variety of different things.” The old wizard sighed, “Mr. Moztrot, you are gifted in having a family that encouraged you to peruse your music. Until I was fifteen, I didn’t have that luxury. If anything, I was expected to do one job for the rest of my life: to raise and lower the sun and the moon. You might think that we unicorns are privileged to have these gifts, but back then our magic had to be practical: making sure that we had the sun to have crops or the moon to give light to the darkness. Anything else would have been laughed at as pointless. However…” He went silent for a moment before confessing, “That was before Celestia and Luna. When those two showed the world that they could raise and lower the sun and moon all by themselves, everything changed. Now that we unicorns weren’t bound to using our magic to move those celestial bodies about, we were free to peruse knowledge and wisdom like never before. For a long time, I never considered myself a genius, just somepony who was curious about why things worked the way they did. Not just strictly magic, but many other things, like why does music sound pleasant? How can I get from here to there without walking or flying? Why are creatures the way they are? And there were so many questions that I wanted to answer that I went out to seek them.” “So you weren’t born a genius then?” “Of course not,” he smirked. “If anything, most of the time I was doing all of those things because I was bored. And trust me, living in the realm a thousand years ago, there was practically nothing for us to do back then.” “Father Boredom and Mother Necessity are the parents of invention,” I commented. Beardy shrugged, “There might be some truth in that. After all, it may not look like it, but I taught myself how to play the lyre and the mandolin because of boredom.” “And I suppose you sang too?” “I had to,” he nodded. “If anything, it was popular among the courts as it gave poetry life when put to an instrument or five. Plus, developing a way of transcribing the tune was a necessity for me because I couldn’t remember all the ballads I sang.” Now, this got my ears perked straight up, “Can you still sing?” “What? Me? I used to do it in my youth but I don’t--” “Oh please,” I whined. “It’s not every day that you get to hear the very father of music actually sing.I just have to know what it originally sounded like.” He raised an eyebrow. “You do know that time may not have been kind to my voice. I haven’t sung in years.” “But you still know how to play?” After thinking over his answer, he replied, “If I had a mandolin on me… and some actual sheet music… I might recollect how to play it.” “Great!” I dragged him by the hoof as I led the way out of the maze and into the palace. Despite all the protest and commotion he made as I dragged him about, I was determined to hear the very origin of Equestria’s modern music straight from the wizard’s mouth. I was determined to get him to the castle’s music room regardless. As soon as we stepped through the threshold I let him go. He asked, “Was dragging me here like a sack of potatoes really necessary? I can walk you know.” “This is exciting,” I replied as I hopped over to the row of string instruments. Disappointingly, there were no mandolins on display. “Here,” I said taking down a guitar, “Do you think you might be able to play this? I know it’s several strings short of a mandolin, but the method is the same.” After accepting the instrument, he studied it, plucking at its strings as if he was relearning how to play from sound alone. “Do you happen to have a ballad from my time in here as well?” “No,” said I as I went to the door, “But I can write it down.” After calling the servants to bring up some scratch paper, I jotted down a tune and presented it to him on a music stand. “Do you remember this?” He smiled. “I’m pleased that it’s lasted this long,” Star Swirl said as he began to play. His hooves strummed the strings as he invented a prelude to what has now become a folk song. Though he had only been playing for thirty seconds, I admired the simple but atmospheric sound that sounded ancient yet contemporary. And then, he started to sing. His voice, I must admit to you reader, wasn’t of operatic quality, but it wasn’t horrible either. I realized what made him a legend among music was through what he sang was simple, it was haunting at the same time. While I listened, he sang with a sort of melancholy, but graceful as well that matched up with the harmony of the guitar. It reminded me why I had strived to be at his level from the beginning. He wrote his ballads and songs in a way that anypony could enjoy them as much as another. I was able to do that with orchestras, but he just needed a stringed instrument and his voice. Granted, his composition was unquestionably simple. But as I listened, I realized that it was from this was the root, that music had changed over time to what it has become. Hearing this song directly from its creator, the living ancestor of harmony, is something that I would never forget as long as I lived. After all, music had to start from somewhere.