//------------------------------// // (Bonus) The thirty-ninth attempt: Sweet Song // Story: Symphony for Moon and Sun // by GrassAndClouds2 //------------------------------// (600 years post Celestia) Off Beat looked out at the stage and could not quite contain his grin. Finally. Finally, he would either get a fraction of his due, or be free of that millstone around his neck forever. His sister, Sweet Song, was called a ‘savant’ by their parents. That was a very fancy word, despite being only six letters long, but Off Beat knew what it meant. It meant that she could only do one thing – in her case, play music. She couldn’t do anything else; she couldn’t feed herself, or dress herself, or stay out in public for long without supervision. But she could play music, she certainly could, and so she was still the flower and joy of the family. The others had to take second fiddle to her, always and forever, because of her superlative talent. But wasn’t that fair? No. No it was not. Everypony loved her. They said her music was spectacular. And it was, but of course, that was all she had to do. She wasn’t capable of attending school with the other foals, so she could stay home and practice. She wasn’t capable of doing chores. Hay, Off Beat was pretty sure that she wasn’t capable of speech. So she remained in her room all day, doing the only thing she could, practicing her music for hours upon hours. Was it any wonder she was good? Meanwhile, Off Beat went to school. Off Beat did more than his share of chores around their household. Off Beat even got a part-time job, a long and tiring route delivering papers, so that he could have a few bits of his own. And, of course, he also practiced music. Was he as good as Sweet Song, who thanks to her disability could spend sixteen hours a day playing? No. But he was still decent, and he’d have qualified for the Music Academy… If the family had the money. But no. It went to help pay for the medical care that Sweet Song required. If it wasn’t for her, Off Beat thought several times a day, I wouldn’t have to work so hard, and I’d have more time to practice. (His schedule was reasonably rigorous -- yes, he did spend evenings out partying with friends or weekends sleeping in, but he wanted to have some relaxation, and he did manage to squeeze in several hours of practice a week.) I’d be able to buy a better violin. Get a good tutor. My family could send me to the Academy, where I could really get well known. But no! She had to ruin everything, because she’s sick and so we all have to suffer for her. Off Beat had gone to a community college near his family’s home. He’d majored in business, and he’d made good grades. Upon graduation, he’d been planning on heading to Canterlot and trying to make his own way there, but his parents had cornered him. “Sweet Song needs an agent,” they said. “Couldn’t you try? She’d pay you well, and besides, she doesn’t trust many ponies.” Well, of course. She just relies on me and you, because we’re here and we’ve made it quite clear that we’ll suffer as much as she needs for her sake. Off Beat had been prepared to refuse, to snap at his parents that he was done with her. But then he’d had a better idea. He’d have his revenge. He’d show the world that, behind Sweet Song’s beautiful performances on stage, lay a total helpless wreck who could only exist as long as she could drain others around her. He’d taken the job as her agent, and he’d done a very good job. He got her gigs. Good gigs. A lot of gigs. More gigs than most musicians could handle, enough to push even Sweet’s talents to their limits. And he’d smiled from the sidelines, waiting for her to crack or crumble on stage. One failure was all it would take for the music world to pass her over; then he’d have the perfect reason to abandon her and get a real job somewhere. But she somehow managed to play everything. It kept her up at all hours to learn the music, her health was clearly suffering, and he could tell – oh, she never spoke, but he could see it in her eyes – that she was finally almost as unhappy as he was. He saw her at night, sometimes, crying as she tried to master some absurdly difficult piece that Off Beat had scheduled her to play. But she played everything nonetheless, taking all the challenges he could throw at her. He’d been enraged. Could nothing stop her? And then he’d learned of the Symphony. What a stroke of luck that was! It was said that nopony could play it; any who tried were shunned. When Off Beat had learned this, he’d kissed the score, like it was a priceless jewel. It was the answer to all his problems. If Sweet played it, and somehow got it right, Luna would want to talk to her. And then she would immediately see that she was a complete… well, ‘savant,’ was the nice way to put it. She would know that Sweet Song had to have had help. And Off Beat would finally get the credit he deserved for all the sacrifices he’d made for his sister. That had to be worth something. Money, maybe, or perhaps a tutor. Maybe even a few concerts. After all, if it wasn’t for his sister, he’d be great by now. Luna would see that, and she was just. She’d want to compensate him. And if his dear sister failed? Then Luna wouldn’t talk to Sweet Song; she’d just storm out. Song would take the fall. And then, when she was in the dungeons, or banished, or off in some other purgatory, Off Beat would be free. He wouldn’t need to work with her anymore. She wouldn’t be able to drag him or his family down. It would finally, finally be over. Off Beat understood little of this style of music, though of course he’d picked some things up from his work as his sister’s agent. He knew, vaguely, what this particular Symphony was to be about, and he’d even hired another pony to write the missing movement. It was mostly just a recapitulation of the other four; after all, the performance should hew as closely as possible to the original, and since the original fifth movement was missing, the best option was to ape the style of the remaining sections. Sure, maybe he could have put a little more effort into the new movement… but he didn’t honestly care. Come on, sis. Let’s let the world see you like you really are. On stage, Sweet Song was finishing. Off Beat tensed in anticipation. And… and nothing! No applause! No cheers! Luna’s voice boomed from above. “Remove her from the stage at once!” Yes! YES! Go to Tartarus! Off Beat had to fight very, very hard not to cheer. I am going to go home, I am going to throw out her crap, and I am going to have the biggest party Baltimare has ever known! I am— “Excuse us.” Off Beat turned to see two ponies looking at him. They were wearing weird uniforms, and it took him a moment to place them as members of the Night Guard. “Y-yes?” “Princess Luna wishes to speak with you,” said one, moving around him. “Your cooperation is most appreciated.” “But – but, I really have business—“ “It will have to wait.” The first guard smiled, but there was no warmth in it. “Princess Luna is quite interested to know how, exactly, Miss Song wound up playing that piece before her.” “She felt that you, her agent, might have some idea.” “What? No!” But he couldn’t resist the guards, and was led away.