//------------------------------//
// Gathering Under Night 
// Story: The Olden World 
// by Czar_Yoshi 
//------------------------------//

Dinner lasted until well past sundown, as the colors of twilight were draining from the sky and the first stars became visible. A moderate wind blew past just above the town rooftops, but it kept the sky clear, and carried a distant commotion from the lower field to the southwest. In the distance, a spotlight sent a blazing beam of neon color into the sky, and was shortly joined by another and then another. The streets around the tavern were deserted, and most home lights were off as well, because everyone had a better place to be: Melia and Sirena's concert was about to begin.

"We shouldn't be worried about missing it, right?" Slipstream asked, nervously glancing over her shoulder as the conversation dwindled, long-finished plates of food on the table before her. "We'd hear anything from here, and could just fly over?"

"Fly?" Valey belched, stretching back and thumping her stomach. "No way. Not unless someone wants to carry me. I got my runaround, got my food, and am pretty sure the next thing on the list is a nap."

"Sounds like someone has their priorities straight," Morena remarked, getting out of her chair and shaking her mane out.

Maple frowned, Starlight at her side. "If we're late, I'd be more worried about getting seats. It looks and sounds like everyone is there."

"That's because everyone is!" Wallace laughed. "But fear not. In Izvaldi, everyone doesn't amount to much of a crowd! And we'll be more than welcome in Lord Percival's private box, specially positioned for pure, uninterrupted auditory magnificence!"

"A private box, you say?" Gerardo looked intrigued, glancing up at the sky. "Well, I imagine that will go well with this weather. It could get chilly before the night is over!"

"We should be going," Morena added, nodding at Wallace. "They usually turn those lights on ten minutes before it starts."

"Sounds like flight it is," Valey sighed, grumbling and heaving herself upright with a flap of her wings.





A pair of magical fireworks split the sky as the group soared in for a landing, Morena standing on Wallace's back like a captain and Valey reluctantly lugging herself through the air. The entire field, wide enough that a shout from corner to corner could only be heard on a calm day, was over half filled with quadrupeds, ponies and griffons numbering about two to one. Despite the dusk, their distribution was still colorful, and Starlight realized the griffons came in far more shades than she had originally guessed. Blue like Gerardo, red like Percival, green like Kero, but browns and yellows and oranges as well, and perhaps more colors that were lost beneath the dusk. The shades were all darker and earthy, never growing as pastel as the ponies, but both paled before the neon lighting coming from the stage at the field's far end.

Starlight was briefly blinded from below as she flew through one of the waving spotlights. The moment her vision cleared, she was descending on a structure near the stage and to the side, a boxy building elevated on wooden supports with a balcony not unlike the one she watched events in Riverfall's main plaza from. Everyone touched down near a staircase on the side, Wallace staying back so his weight wouldn't crush it and Morena leading the way up instead.

The door swung open after a light knocking, and Starlight instantly recognized the wrinkled, sunken-eyed face that greeted them as Chauncey. "More guests!" he chuckled, stepping back as warmly as she'd ever seen him, still in his ridiculously pious robe and hood that looked like a hat. "Come in, come in. I'm interested to hear what our Ironridge guests think of the performance."

"You are?" Valey belched, looking surprised.

"Of course," Chauncey insisted, standing aside and ushering them in. "They're my granddaughters, and I want to see them do the best they can do! And take pride and happiness from it as well. You might have heard by now about the history of these performances, and that there have been some disagreements between me and them on management style, but tonight I've agreed to fully step back and let them take the helm! If we could find a better way of doing things, it would be very nice, indeed."

Gerardo raised an eyebrow. "Well, you're certainly friendlier and more talkative when we met you earlier."

Chauncey chuckled. "I've had a good day, and am more myself at night regardless. Good advice in general is that if you have dealings with me, see to them once the sun has gone down." He glanced aside at Valey. "You, though... How did Doctor Zybar's treatment work out for you? Any further ailments or troubles?"

"Nah." Valey shrugged, twirling her hat on a wing and looking suspiciously at the nearby hat rack. "Think I'm good."

"Excellent," Chauncey replied. "Connections like mine really can be wonderful, sometimes. If there's ever anything else difficult or impossible you want, don't hesitate to ask me as well. I heard you did my Melia a major favor after that incident in the hospital, and I wouldn't mind the chance to pay you back. I can't do everything, but I can accomplish more than you think..."

Valey raised an eyebrow.

"I'd also love to have a discussion with you some time," Chauncey continued. "I care a great deal about the well-being of the sarosian race, and while I've been able to see to a lot here in Izvaldi, many other places are beyond my grasp. It would interest me to know how our kind fare far away from this utopia we've been building here."

"Eh, maybe sometime." Valey flicked her mane. "Are they starting...?" She blinked, noticing the room's contents. "Yo, what is this place?"

One corner of the room was dedicated to a couch and refreshments, and the doors to the balcony and stairway were kept clear, but most of it was taken up by expensive-looking racks of mana equipment, boards and dials and flickering line graphs mounted on tables and stacked against walls. So many cables covered the floor that a see-through rug had been draped over them, helping to prevent anyone from tripping. Starlight looked suspiciously at an array of bulb-like devices, their surfaces crackling with small bolts every few seconds.

"It's a recording studio," Percival announced, walking in from the balcony. "Good evening, Ironridge visitors and Morena. I overheard your conversation, and this is the hardware that powers the measuring devices places all around this field. You can thank Chauncey for its design."

Maple frowned. "All this? In Ironridge, you can record sound on a hoofheld recording device, and that was twenty years ago. This looks almost closer to Arambai's basement. Is that really all it does?"

Chauncey chuckled. "Well, we're trying to get as lifelike a recording as possible, as well as measuring other things such as audience engagement, and a few other things that would bore anyone who isn't a science buff. If you'd like a demonstration, we could provide afterward, assuming the concert is a success."

"A success?" Gerardo looked confused. "Why should that have to do with anything? Is there truly a chance of them being so horrible we wouldn't want to hear an encore?"

"I will hit you," Jamjars threatened. "And then shave your dumb headcrest with a carving knife."

"That's an extreme reaction." Chauncey looked concerned. "Try not to become too obsessive about things like this. The last thing my granddaughters need right now is their feelings hurt over any misplaced competition."

"Noted," Gerardo assured.

Meanwhile, a crack of a speaker outside heralded a power switch being thrown, and two youthful voices greeted the crowd in a well-practiced routine that earned a roar of applause. "Oh!" Chauncey started, heading for the balcony with a look of contentment that didn't suit his wrinkled, hooked face. "It sounds like they're starting. Please, take your seats."