//------------------------------// // Chapter 2 // Story: My Little Pony: Symphony of Fire // by LordStarKnight //------------------------------// My Little Pony : Symphony of fire Chapter 2 Canterlot - Equestria A cathedral-like silence had imposed itself in the throne room. The sun's rays glittered on the white marble in a thousand colors from the stained glass windows. The little purple dragon was bored, sitting at the base of a column, away from a meeting whose importance was unknown to the rest of the castle. Twilight Sparkle and the two sovereign alicorns were in deep thinking. Princess Celestia, the princess of the sun, held before her eyes, thanks to her magic, the scroll pieces that her disciple had discovered. Her serious expression contrasted in a disturbing way with her delicate look and her flowing rainbow mane. It was the same for her younger sister, Luna, princess of the night. Even the stars in her hair couldn’t soften the worry on her face. The little unicorn had also replaced her original euphoria with the same anguished expression. The princesses clearly did not share the enthusiasm she had shown earlier. When they finished studying the shreds of the Canticle of Truth, the alicorn of the sun put them in the iron case and informed the little unicorn. “I must admit that you have made an impressive discovery here.” “Thanks Princess. I immediately thought I needed to talk to you about it.” It was the alicorn of the night which then spoke. “And you did well Twilight Sparkle, because we need you to keep this a secret for now.” This request was like an act of madness in the eyes of the little unicorn. “What?! But why? This is the first time we discover something so significant about Equis…” Princess Celestia responded to her confusion with gentle firmness. “That's precisely why we have to wait before revealing it.” Luna completed. “If it had been about anybody else, like Star Swirl the Bearded, there would have been no problem. But here we are talking about the creator of our world.” “Indeed,” agreed Celestia. “We must learn more about this before making any assumptions about what it tells us. The slightest misinterpretation, the slightest mistake, could have serious consequences. “ “What do you mean? You really have no idea what this document is about?” “That’s right. At the time Luna and I were young fillies, Equis’ story was already very old. It has been passed down from generation to generation for thousands of years. So you can imagine how entrenched it is in people's minds.” The young unicorn didn’t like the idea of ​​hiding her discovery. But she believed in Celestia’s wisdom. “What should we do then princess?” The two alicorns exchanged a look whose meaning was understandable only by them. Luna nodded to give her mute approval. The white-haired princess used her magic to give back to her disciple the mysterious cylinder. “Twilight Sparkle, as princesses of Equestria, we ask you to study this document in the utmost secrecy to extract as much information as possible.” That did not surprise Twilight too much. But a detail in this request worried her. “But ... what about my friends? Must I not say anything to them either? Celestia understood her pupil’s dilemma. She, who had so much trouble discovering the benefits of friendship, would have to hide things from them now. It was with a visibly heavy heart that Luna confirmed her fears. “I'm afraid so Twilight. Until we know more, do not under any circumstances talk about all this to other ponies. And this request also applies to Spike.” “I ... I'll talk to him about it. I'm sure he'll understand.” “Very well,” concluded Celestia. “We are counting on you my dear pupil.” Twilight answered her hopes with a determination that the solar sovereign always appreciated. “I will not disappoint you. There are still a lot of pieces to translate and others that I can make legible with the right techniques. “ The little unicorn withdrew, calling to her reptilian assistant, explaining to him the secrecy of their discovery, before leaving the throne room. When the heavy doors closed behind them, Celestia could not help but sighing at all the anxiety that this situation had given birth to for her. “How do you feel sister?” her dark-haired sister inquired. “I would be lying if I said that I wasn’t not worried Luna. If something terrible comes to light, I do not know if we will have to keep the secret or reveal it. Not everyone will be as open-minded as Twilight.” The princess of the night shared her opinion. Her dignity could not hide her fear. “For me, it is this famous army which worries me. Beings on two legs? Without fur or scales? It does not correspond to any creature I know. “ “That's why I pray that Twilight will succeed in learning more. If it is an existing threat, we must be ready to face it.” xXx The first thing that crossed Kenneth's confused mind was the feeling of understanding how an egg crushed by a soldier's boot felt. His skull seemed to have burst into a thousand small pieces that were colliding against each other. His muscles were grilled marshmallows. When he tried to open his eyes, needles of light revived the pain. His eyelids closed, he could not help but lie on the cold floor scratching his skin. After long minutes of torture, the pain eventually subsided. Kenneth tried to open his eyes again, with much more caution. Passing a short moment of blindness, he discovered a blue sky, as beautiful as a dream, full of cotton-like clouds. This view was as peaceful as it was unexpected for the young man. So much that he wondered if he really had left Morpheus' arms. He ended up painfully lifting his head to find himself in a tiny clearing surrounded by a thick forest. The scene itself was less surprising than the overly shimmering coloring that dyed it. It was as if every element of the universe had been remade by the brush of a children's book illustrator. His muscular pain was engulfed by this avalanche of sweet colors and childlike shapes. He got up slowly without ceasing to look at this enchanting landscape. Kenneth exploded in amazement as his eyes discovered that his hands had been reshaped in the image of this new environment. His skin was much lighter than normal, and so were his clothes. His red and black checked shirt had never looked so shimmering, nor so clean. Once he had recovered from the initial shock, Kenneth searched through the scene for some sort of answers about his situation. But all he found on his back was a cave dug in a cliff. A cave that seemed to have spit out all his belongings. He hastened to join the famous opening to discover his posters, CDs, some old bottles and even his bed that seemed to have been torn from the wall it was attached to. To his misfortune, all his posters, from Beethoven to Van Halen, had been torn to shreds. His laptop was even less fortunate. It would have been more recognizable after being crushed by a semi trailer. The CDs seemed to have served as targets for clay-pigeon shooting, just like his DVDs. The more Kenneth noticed the extent of the damage, the closer he was to exploding. The wisp of his interior dynamite froze when he discovered his guitar’s case. The musician propelled himself towards it and opened it with a panicked gesture. All his tension seemed to disappear with a big sigh when he discovered his Gibson SG Standard - Heritage Cherry in perfect condition. He caressed it the way he would have done with the last masterpiece of the last artist in the world. Once reassured, the young man felt something in his pocket and found his smartphone inside. He tried to call for help but there was no signal. No matter how much he thought about the events that had led him into this fairytale forest, he could not come to any rational conclusion. He could not forget the whirlpool of color, the pain swimming in his flesh or the mischievous smile of Jannings. He wanted to destroy something every time he thought about him, which he did with several bottles. Ignoring where he was, all the strangeness of the last hours caused Kenneth to do the simplest thing possible: walk a little in search of any sign of civilization, or at least some signal to call for help. He observed the tree belt surrounding the clearing he was in and began to walk forward, his cell phone in hand. He was not the kind to be easily frightened, but he had to admit that the forest he was walking through was not so reassuring when the foliage was concealing the sun. The branches were the crooked fingers of vegetal creatures with tentacles of sharp thorns. More than once, the young American gasped at the corner of a trunk, discovering an illusion of a face engraved in the wood. But in some cases, he simply had to put a hand on his right shoulder to make the fear of what had surprised him fly away like a bad actor fired from the scene. Hope made its way into his heart when the musician perceived the relaxing gurgling of water. The sound guided him to a river, trapped in a thin canyon. It was not exactly what he had expected, but Kenneth was nevertheless pleased to discover a way to quench the thirst that had turned his tongue into a dry sponge. While walking along the ravine, the young man found a path leading him to a shore of sand and pebbles from which he could plunge his face into the divine liquid. After drinking a long moment, he inspected once again his smartphone but there was still no signal. Fatigue and despair began to impose themselves on the young man. Understanding his failure in finding help, Kenneth resolved to turn back. He preferred to return to his personal dump instead of wandering indefinitely in this dark forest. At the halfway point of the trip, Kenneth spotted a sound that was repeating itself dangerously. At first, it was just the crunch of a twig. Nothing unusual in such a place. The young american hadn’t even paid attention to it. But when the noise repeated itself a second time, then a third, he began to worry. He tried to spot something unusual in the shadows but found nothing at first. He walked a bit faster but then heard a growl among the trees. Kenneth had never met one, but he was able to recognize a wolf's grunt when he heard one. The beast came out of the bushes and his sight cut off all ideas of running away to the musician's. Not because of fear, but because of astonishment. The monster in front of him hadn’t walked on wood. It was made of wood. It was nothing but a pile of sharp branches with fluorescent green eyes, which did not make the bestial look more sympathetic. The creature slowly approached the young man. He was followed by two other creatures like it. It was at this moment that Kenneth regained consciousness. These things clearly hadn’t come out of mere curiosity. Their eyes reflected an appetite that they hoped to appease. The musician recoiled with more and more fright. When his back hit a tree trunk, his hand dropped his cell phone, which hit a stone, activating the music function. The whole world seemed to freeze as the screech of an electric guitar burst from the smartphone. Adrenaline Mob - “Undaunted” All those present at that moment had an expression similar to if a cake had exploded in the middle of a western duel. When the music suddenly became more violent than a summer storm, the wooden creatures jumped back and barked against the magical box. They were now focused on the music’s source. Kenneth didn’t take long to make the connection between the fear of these creatures and the roars of metalheads. Without thinking, he hastily retrieved his life-saving device, pointed it at his attackers like a sword, and increased the volume to the maximum. The brutality of the song caused the wolves and all the birds in the area to go off at full speed. Kenneth was only able to regain his composure once the music was over, the wolves not even pointing out the tip of their muzzle after that. He took a deep breath before finally going to the cavern, which he had designated as a temporary encampment. Back in his little dump, the musician cast another look at his cell phone. Still no signal. And the night was starting to come. He was not reassured at the idea of ​​spending the night in some cartoonish forest. But he obviously had no choice. Kenneth gathered a few dry branches and prepared a campfire in front of the entrance to the cave, like he had been taught to. He reluctantly started it with his old posters. He sacrificed these shreds of his soul for a little heat, saddened but grateful. He used this opportunity to gather his waste in a big pile in the cave. Looking at all this mess, even though it was his own, trailed among the most colorful flowers he had ever seen was quite depressing. But it kept his mind busy, preventing him from rethinking all the questions he could not answer: Where was he? How did he get here? Had he gone completely insane? Once his mattress was laid on the rocky floor of the cave, a good distance from the fire, Kenneth felt almost safe. But no less stressed. The sun had gone down without the young man even realizing it. As if it had simply disappeared when he had turned his back for two minutes, leaving room for a gigantic moon. Even that could not surprise him at this point. Kenneth tried resting while lying on his mattress, but even the melody of crickets and other nocturnal birds was not enough to relax him. Especially since the night was cool. He took off his flannel shirt to wear it like a blanket, taking advantage of that to pass a soft hand on the Cthulhu's tribal tattoo on his shoulder. But it did not change his stress level much. Lacking anything better to do, he took out his dear apple-red guitar. Without an amp, he could not play, obviously, but holding her in his arms always brought him some comfort. How much music had he played with these silver strings? He could not say. But it was enough for him to close his eyes and graze the strings and imagine himself playing some guitar pieces. Only this time, as he thought about Nirvana's chords, his ears reacted to the sound of the guitar. He paused, surprised. He didn’t just imagine the music, he had heard it. Which was obviously impossible. His instrument could not produce good sounds right now. He tried to pinch a rope again. Nothing happened. He tried to imagine the piece he had just played. Always nothing. As he was about to conclude it was just a figment of his imagination, he tried to reimagine the piece and play it at the same time. The impossible slammed his face. Nirvana - “Come as you are” Not only had his ears heard the sound of the guitar, but also the battery and the bass. It took him a moment to accept this new quirk. He started the piece again, but this time singing. And his astonishment reached its climax by hearing his voice sound like Kurt Cobain himself, resonating as in the middle of a music video. Carried away by the euphoria aroused by this musician’s dream coming true, Kenneth let himself playing some other music. There begun an evening of playful experimentation in which the young musician tried to play many kinds of songs, discovering that he did not even need the instrument, just being really focused on the melody. But having his guitar in hand, and partially playing, diminished the necessary level of concentration to produce a sound. And so he could produce all the music he had in mind, whatever the instrument or style. The only limit was that if he tried to reproduce the voice made by a singer, it remained that of a man, remixing the piece. He stopped only when his fatigue became too heavy. He collapsed onto his mattress to let himself be transported by the joy of this mysterious power. He was interrupted, however, when he heard a grunt which he recognized immediately. Watching the woods in the dim light, Kenneth noticed dozens of green neon lights spying on him with envy. Apparently, the wolves he had chased away had brought some friends back and were waiting for the right time to make him their dinner. Only this time, he was not the least afraid because he had something new to show them. He armed himself with his guitar and planted himself in front of his vital fire. He was intending to give these wooden puppies a strong warning. He concentrated as best he could, raised a firm arm and then slammed it on the strings of the instrument, awakening an electronic storm. Bloody Beetroots + Jet - “My Name Is Thunder” From the first note, all the sleeping birds fled as if awakened by a bombardment. As the young man pursued his song, the threatening lights faded away. When Kenneth concluded his warrior cry and his electric fanfare, alone in the night with his dancing flame, he felt himself inhabited by a delicious sense of power aroused by the idea that he had scent ​​a message to the entire universe: This forest had a new master.