For the next ten minutes, there was chatter inside the Opera House and a stream of advertisement on the radio as the audience waited for Ocellus. Anyone who listened to the first part of the performance had asked what she was going to sing next. She had sing six songs in which the quality was jaw-dropping. If anything, they say that so far it might some of the best songs she ever did. Yet, there were still a few more left. What was it going to sound like?
Before they went on the air, the lights in the theater dimmed and flickered – giving the live audience a minute warning that the second part was about to begin. Soon, Fancy Pants returned to the microphone and was given the cue to start.
“Welcome back to Imagine 96.3 for the second part of The Curtain Call concert live with The Beatle and the Royal Canterlot Philharmonic. So far, we have heard half a dozen masterful works of Pull McCart and Dawn Lemon. So now to begin the final half of this remarkable performance, Ocellus will now play a solo on her guitar called Blackbird.”
The audience stomped their hooves as the scarlet curtain rose, and Ocellus stepped out with her guitar in her hooves approached the microphone. A spotlight shined on her as she began to sting up a relaxing opening.
When Ocellus started singing, they noticed that the lyrics were simple, but at the same time, something was haunting in what she says. She speaks to a singing bird with broken wings and sunken eyes to give it encouragement. To learn to fly with broken wings and see with sunken eyes – but don’t give up because of all the unfortunate things that bring it down. Asides those things, the undertext of what it suggests when any of the audience thinks about it, they found profound. Those simplest, yet powerful words of encouragement.
This short but beautiful song had a message underneath all those notes. That to those who for whatever reason been set back – keep going. Even at the darkest of nights, morning will always come. Even with broken wings, they will heal. Even with sunken eyes, one can learn how to see. Even though these dark things seem that they could last for all eternity – the truth is that’s what a crisis feels like, not how it is.
In the Opera Box, Ocellus’s friends, their thoughts went back to the early days of their friendship. Of Chancellor Neighsay’s prejudice that closed down the school and them fleeing to the abandoned Castle of the Two Sisters. One could see that viewpoint as a dark point in history as a crushing, oppressive time where ignorance was seen as truth – and the idea that any creature besides ponies was blasphemy. A time where some thought the desegregation between ponies and all other creatures was impossible – but with time, they were proven wrong. If anything, in their eyes, Equestria has grown richer for that.
Soon this short song has ended, much to the applause of the audience. At this moment, two things were happening at once. In the opera boxes where the Changeling choir were, they stood up proudly. On stage, the orchestra was getting ready, and, judging on the looks on their faces, it is one that they’re looking for. Ocellus looked over her shoulder at the conductor, waiting for his cue to begin a milestone of a song.
With a nod from the conductor, Ocellus suddenly saluted as the orchestra played the first few bars of the Prench national anthem.
At first, there was a burst of confused laughter and wondered if the music sheets were mixed up. But then, as bold as brass, the choir began the actual song by chanting the word “Love.” When it was Ocellus’s turn, she distilled her decoration that in a few words combined the goals of those who like her that wanted to change the world through peace and love through a positive message. That there’s nothing that can’t be done. Nothing anyone can do that can’t be sung. Nothing anyone could say, but they can learn how to play. Where nothing that’s made can’t be made. That no one is outside of being saved. That there’s time to be themselves in time. Where nothing isn’t knowable. Nothing they could see that isn’t shown. There’s nowhere in the world they could be where it’s where they’re meant to be. After all, sings Ocellus, it’s easy.
It’s a song that reminds the listeners both within the theater and outside that love is a stronger force than hate. Powerful in meaning, simple it is in their lyrics.
Although the singing is simple, the orchestration for it was enormous but consistent. Every note of every bar was an exuberant, joyful tone in celebration. From the brass that was cartoonish to the strings that were light as a summer’s sunset – there wasn’t anything about it that reflected on the theme of love. Not just the romantic sort but of every kind of love one could imagine. Even the choir up above were swaying and singing their hearts out at this simple but explosive message that “All You Need is Love!”
This song was both out of its time and timeless at the same moment. It sounded decades behind while being centuries ahead. The message was as stubborn as a national monument that deserves to be where it is. An incredible contradiction that let the audience in awe just to hear it. But what music it was to hear it still!
Not to mention catchy. When the music reaches its coda, when the choir and audience swing their reply with “Love is All You Need!” back and forth; outside of the theater, the listeners were doing the same thing. Replying to the radio, being caught up with the tune in answering back that simple song.
But unfortunately, as much as anyone wanted this song to go on forever, it came to an end with well-deserved applause. The choir took a seat and the orchestra did the same for a rest. All except for the pianist which a spotlight on him and Ocellus shines down on.
She said into the microphone. “As we near the end of the show, I’d like to make some dedications here and there. To start, this goes to everyone that has helped craft these songs from the late Forge Hayson to the drummer Mango Star,” she gestured to him at the back of the orchestra, “and even my songwriters, Pull McCart and Dawn Lemon. This song is dedicated to them, their struggle to be recognized, as well as the hardship their friendships had to endure all these years.”
She instantly began by singing aloud “The long and winding road,” with the piano accompanying her. In this ballad, she sings of a difficult journey down a path seemingly without end. A long road that is less traveled through the wild storm at night that is enough to leave one crying for a better, sunnier path. She pleads to don’t leave her here alone to face these obstacles but to lead her towards the end to that door she seeks.
Up in the balcony, Pull and Dawn reflected silently on their lives leading up to this point. Decades of trying to move on from the broken pieces that remained and trying to find a job. All those wasted years of being an artist or a salespony when either of them could have done this.
Dawn looked back on the previous fifty years. Of how much he avoided Pull at nearly all costs and the bitter divorce the followed. The difficult return to art school and the harsh climb to earn his degree. He reflected being in a drugged-out daze, the swirls of protests, and going through the world by the cheapest of means for inspiration. How he battled alone with loneness before settling down in Ponyville to paint in solitude.
Pull looked back at the extra fifty years by him dismantling the band. Sure, he could have done it civilly, but his emotions and anger got the better of him when the band broke up. Then he spent decades trying to find a stable job as he settled down. Suddenly, his fame dissolved into the workforce of millions at a white-collar job of going door to door with products to sell. It was a well-paying job, all it cost him was boredom and being away from home for years at a time. Slowly forgetting those famous songs, he created until they were but a whisper to him.
Quietly, they both realized how absurd it was that it took them this long face one another and say that they were sorry. How through this one teenager who believed in their capabilities could have them craft amazing songs that now the whole world thirsted for more of their talents.
After the song was over and the audience applauded, Ocellus spoke again. “And now, mares and gentlecolts – I’m going to have to cheat a little as this is technically an update of a song that’s already been released. Yet, given the circumstances, I do feel that this arrangement should be fitting for the show. Because I’m dedicating this song to my parents who have supported me on so many levels. And now, I want to give at least a little something about what they mean to me.”
From the first notes of the electrical guitarist, fans instantly recognized the tune as In My Life. Many already know of the sweet lyrics of this great love song – but the dedication gave it more depth. The idea that in all of her life, with all the changes – for good and bad – the places she’s been to and all that mattered was the ones that mattered to her. A sweet sentiment, for sure.
Even the orchestra emphasizes how sweet this gesture is; the violins especially made the tune as sugary as salt-water taffy. To keep it light as cotton candy, and warm as a funnel cake served at a fair. Even the braeoque style jig from both the solo violin and the other violins danced joyfully like a Griffish highland fling.
However, what many in that audience – not even for Ocellus for that matter, was that in the back row of the Opera House, her parents and her little siblings were listening. The love from her daughter that echoed in the building brought pride to their hearts. What their daughter has accomplished in a matter of months, and her decision to step down after giving the world the best was mindboggling. The two of them held their hooves, both out of love and out of pride for the gratitude of Ocellus.
Soon the song was over, and even among all the applause, Ocellus took in several deep breaths because she’s about to do another big one – but one that is arguably monumental compared to the others she’s done so far.
“Everyone,” she begins, “before we get to the next song, I want to give everyone some context for what I’m about to sing.” Glancing up at the Opera Box where Dawn Lemon was, she said: “Once upon a time, one of the songwriters had a son. A son called Jude. His father was cold growing up, spilled many tears from a dad who had high standards. After the father divorced the mother, the son was never seen again. The father grew into an old stallion and realized that he wasn’t a good dad. He wished that he could find his son and apologize for not being so cold. We don’t know if he’s listening to this right now, but Jude, if you are hearing this. Dawn says he’s sorry. And this song, is dedicated to you.”
At first, the piano gave a short but sweet prologue before Ocellus started singing. But when she did… it was hypnotically divine. Addressing Jude, she angelically sang words of comfort, like a parent, would to a distressed foal. Encouraging to take a sad, tragic, heartbreaking song and improve it. Telling him to don’t be afraid, that the moment he lets him under his skin, then he could start to make his situation better. That if he ever feels the pain, stop for a moment because it’s not his job to carry Equestria on his back.
There was something emotional in this song; more than usual. A quality between her and the orchestra that drove a powerful sound that seemed much bigger than themselves. Even when neither performers know what exactly that was. The audience could hear it as well that there was something monumentally special about this song.
It had the momentum of Beethoven’s ninth symphony, the grace of Moztrot, the power of Maneler, and the melody of Tchycoltsky all rolled into one piece. Regardless of who was listening, this was the best song of the evening. Yet, above all, there was a tenderness unlike any in music history.
Up in the balcony, although Pull wrote the balk of this song, Dawn felt that this song was addressing both his son and him. Although he knew that this song was composed by his friend, Ocellus seemed to not only own the song but sounded as if she were talking to him directly. That she was looking past of all the bad and hurtful things he did and instead focused on the good things he can do. It was the kind of song that he had waited all his life to hear.
A few minutes into the song, just when it seemed this gorgeous song was running out of steam, Ocellus and the orchestra builds up the music into a divine crescendo. With her voice and the strings building up higher and higher, only to explode into a coral with a melody that goes on seemingly without end.
It sounded foalish at first because the lyrics – or lack thereof – were so simple that anyone could sing them. Yet, so catchy were the lyrics that the audience fell under its spell in singing along until it seemed the whole world joined in the coral. Although the words were nonsense, the infectious joy it brought where for a brief moment, they were all one. From the rich to the poor, the powerful and the powerless were united.
But as much as the audience, the orchestra, even Ocellus wanted it to on forever, it did. The applause lasted for a good solid minute before they had to move on.
“Thank you. Thank you everycreature.” Ocellus bowed. “It’s almost time for me to step down but-” she was interrupted by a chorus of protesting voices. “I know you want me to continue singing, but we have to face facts in that I’m a teenager, and school is coming up for me. As fun as it was to be a Beatle, I’ve grown an appreciation of a normal life. I want to get back to the friends and family I have.
“But before I go, I have two surprise gifts. First, to Dawn Lemon, although this technically isn’t considered as a Beatle song, this is unquestionably yours. I want to show you what your message of peace means to some of us. In fact, for all Changelings in the audience, I now ask you to rise for the Hive’s new anthem. An anthem not of what we are, but what we could become one day.”
Around the theater, not only did the Changeling choir rose up, but several more scattered in the audience as well. Dawn looked about him, perplexed. So he turned to Pull, “What is she talking about?” he questioned, “I never wrote an anthem.”
His confusion gave way to surprise as soon as he heard the first few bars from a solo piano. Instantly just when every Changeling in the theater raised their hooves to sing that Dawn recognized his song.
It started with the piano beginning this almost nursery jingle with its cords. Then the voices of Changelings invited everyone to imagine a place without Elysium or Tartarus, where there is nothing above them except the sky and nothing below except the ground. They urged to try to imagine all creatures, with nothing to be threatened or rewarded for just living for today.
Before they could get to the second verse, suddenly the lights in the Opera House went out, and there was a sudden green flash on stage where Ocellus stood. Then as the lights came back on, she took on the form and voice of Dawn Lemon. The moment that she started singing, the real Dawn Lemon was mortified. Even though he was a songwriter, he hated the sound of his voice, and now that Ocellus was doing an accurate impression of that voice horrified him.
On stage, Ocellus sang the second verse where she offers the audience to imagine no countries where there was nothing to go to war over. In the royal box, this got King Thorax’s attention, even when she was singing to picture all creatures living a peaceful life. She sings a chorus where although others would call her a dreamer, she isn’t alone in this.
Although Dawn was getting angry that she would do this without telling him, he noticed that the Changeling King was on the edge of tears. Not just him, but he could see it in every Changeling in the audience that what was being sung was something that they all longed for. It struck him then, that knowing that these creatures had a long history of war and invasion, especially under a cruel leader like Chrysalis, all they wanted to be at peace. And this song, even for a brief moment, was giving that to them.
But the watershed moment came in the final verse. Dawn returned to Thorax as in the song it mentioned to imagine a world without greed or hunger that tears came out. For Dawn, although he wasn’t the one singing this song, he was blown away by the power of his talent had on so many. His simple song was speaking to these creatures on a personal level than he would ever know.
Maybe… his songs and his voice were worth sharing.
By the end of that song, it received a standing ovation.
Ocellus flashed back to her normal self and gestured a hoof over to the Opera Box towards the composer. “Dawn Lemon, everyone!”
A spotlight crept across the stage, over the curtains, over to the other boxes until it reached the right one. Dawn, being caught in the light simply waved at the cheering crowd.
It took a while to calm the audience down when Ocellus spoke into the microphone. “And now, for my second gift is for Pull. In fact… Hey Pull, come down here.” She waved, and although the audience wasn’t sure what she was doing (and neither was Pull) but they gave a polite cheer for him to do so.
So, the old stallion had to get up and excuse himself to find his way towards the stage. He waved to the audience as he went up to Ocellus.
“Pull,” said she, “I cannot think of any other way of ending this night better than to have you close it. So, I hope you don’t mind, but I’ve arranged a little something for you to introduce the world what you can do.”
“Uh…” He leaned over to her, whispered loud enough that the microphone can pick it up. “Which song are we going for?”
“Something I think you’d be familiar with.” Ocellus replied. “The ending melodies from a place called Abby Road. Oh! And before that, I have something for you.” Waving a hoof, Fancy Pants reentered on stage. In his aura was a wooden, electrical guitar. “I had the strings switched around for you.” She said.
Pull took hold of the guitar as if grasping the hoof of an old friend. He smiled, realizing exactly what the young Changeling had in mind. Ocellus stepped aside from the microphone and let Pull take her place. Back in the spotlight with a fresh new start, he turned over to the pianist nearby and nodded.
Out of everything that happened that night for Ocellus, after singing landmark song after landmark song – having Pull McCart sing and perform with was incredible. Despite being ancient, a touch out of practice stallion, he took that reversed guitar in front of all listening ears around Equestria and turned out an amazing performance. Not only that, but for her playing with him was a dream come true – to play with a genuine Beatle.
With a near-shaky voice, he spun a melody that was something like a lullaby between the gentle tempo of the piano, the swelling of the strings, the momentum of their guitars, and eventually the drumming rhythm of Mango. There was something soothing but intriguing in how Pull sings Golden Slumbers. It resembled like a subdue power ballad and yet, not at all.
But that quickly changed when Mango got stronger beats on the drums and the choir sang with tremendous momentum with collective ecstasy: “Carry That Weight!” The second melody had the flare of a religious rhapsody. There wasn’t a member of the Changeling choir that wasn’t swaying, nor a single musician of the orchestra that wasn’t enjoying this bit. It was powerfully emotional, especially in Pull’s voice that leads the way, impressing the audience in how naturally he was at this despite his age.
Then, came the final melody. Although the tone suddenly and unexpectedly changed to a more rock sound, Pull wasn’t thrown off by this sudden change. He almost screamed into the microphone out of passion at this last bit of the music. He stopped for a moment to wave Ocellus over to help finish out. The young Changeling grinned happily as she quickly to the microphone. Together with their guitars and their voices, they gave the audience a wild roller-coaster ride of bars that went between the two of them this way and that. All the while, both of them repeating the phrase: “Love you!”
However, this incredible virtuosity ceased, leaving a ticking piano to echo in the Opera house. Together, Ocellus and Pull sang the final lyric in harmony of The End. What followed after that as the orchestra, electric guitars, Mango, and the choir tied it all together with a bow – sudden pops of confetti rained down on the audience in colorful celebration as the song came to an end.
The lights of the Opera house lit up, and the whole audience was screaming in cheers as they once again stood up. Dawn quickly got out of his seat and was usurer towards the stage. By the time he got there, the musicians from the Neighponies band, to the choir, even the orchestra were taking turns to bow.
“C’mon!” Suddenly Ocellus was grabbing his hoof and dragging him towards the front of the stage, next to Pull. She took hold of Pull’s hoof and raised both of them high to the tempestuous roar of the crowd.
They took a bow.
“Okay, let’s call it what it was,” Smolder said, “Best. Concert. Ever.”
It was about half-an-hour after the concert was finally concluded. Backstage in a dressing room, Ocellus invited her friends to ask them how it was.
“You know what?” Sandbar told her, sitting on the desk, his back against the row of mirrors. “I can’t think of a dull moment all night. It was so perfect to start to finish.”
“I’ll say!” Silverstream said, wrapping an arm around Gallus. “I don’t know how you did it, but I think that might have been the most awesome, incredible, inspiring concert of all time!”
“And how many concerts have you gone to?” Gallus smirked.
“Yona is a little sad this Ocellus last concert.” Their Yak friend expressed. “Wish it could go on longer.”
“Just remember,” Ocellus pointed out, “there’s a record being released tomorrow where it has a lot of other songs that I couldn’t fit into the concert. And between you and me, I’m upset that I didn’t get to sing Let It Be, it was a good one!”
“Don’t worry,” Smolder patted her on the back. “I’m pretty sure that we’ll listen to it as soon as we can get a copy.”
“You know what?” Sandbar hopped off from his seat and shook Ocellus’s hoof, “I know you’ll stop making music from now on, but after tonight, consider me as a fan.”
“Thanks,” she smiled. “Frankly, I’m just looking forward to being a student again.”
“At least someone’s excited about staying in a classroom,” Gallus smirked.
There was a sudden knock on the door, to which Pull, Dawn, and Mango peeked their heads in.
“You ready to go?” Pull asked.
“There’s an afterparty with our names on it,” Mango said.
“Just a sec,” Ocellus told them before turning around to hug her friends. “Thanks for putting this up for me. I’ll see you all when school starts.”
Her friends hugged her back and bid her farewell.
She walked out of the dressing room with the other three stallions. While Pull and Mango took the lead, Dawn walked beside her. “You know…” he started. “What you did back there took me out of my comfort zone.”
Ocellus’s ears folded back. “I know, but the song didn’t feel right without me-”
“Let me finish.” He cut her off. “What you did back there, you did it without asking me first. But with that said,” Pull and Mango opened the backstage doors, “it got me thinking.”
“Yeah?”
“Well when I was seeing all those faces, and how much it had an effect from my song. It got me thinking that… maybe I can do all that stuff you said about me.”
They walked down the alleyway, towards the parked carriage.
Ocellus smiled. “That’s good to hear. Because personally, I think ponies need your songs now more than ev-”
“Ms. Ocellus.” A new voice called out from somewhere behind them. Curious, Dawn looked behind them. And before Ocellus could do the same, she suddenly felt agony as an arrow was shot at her. Then another. And another. And another. She screamed and fell to the ground.
It happened so fast. Pull and Mango turned around to see the Young Changeling gasping, crying in pain. Dawn with a flash of rage, charged at a stunned stallion, dropping a crossbow. A chubby unicorn who was light green, blond mane, and had an owl for a cutie mark. Dawn punched him in the face as hard as he could and kept punching.
“No!” Pull screamed, “Goddesses no!” he rushed over to Ocellus while Mango rushed out to scream for help. “Ocellus! Say something!”
“I… I…” she gasped, “C-Can’t… breathe…”
Mango continued to cry for help.
Looking up, Pull saw Dawn still beating the assassin. “Dawn! Help me!”
The enraged Dawn looked over his shoulder before giving Aficionado another punch to the face. Although dissatisfied, he got up to assist his friend.
“Stay with us, Ocellus,” Pull pleaded, seeing her eyes were starting to close. He looked at Dawn, “We need to get her to a hospital, now.”
“And what about this piece of rubbish?!” Dawn pointed at the stallion. “Someone should stay so he could be taken away.”
“This way!” Mango’s voice ringed out as a couple of the Royal Guard came galloping in on the scene.
What happened for the next few minutes was a blur. Mango and Pull loaded Ocellus up in their carriage where one guard offered to show them to the hospital. The other stayed with Dawn to arrest the bruised Aficionado. While the stallion was put in hoofcuffs and was recited his rights, both of them noticed how despite what he had done, he didn’t try to resist. Even with the one arrow left in the repeating crossbow, he didn’t try to use it.
The guard (who was a unicorn) sent up a signal to call in for backup, given the gravity of the situation. Dawn went up to the bruised assassin, his back against a brick wall, hooves in cuffs and an anti-magic ring on his horn, looked at him in the eye, and said one word.
“Why?”
Aficionado looked up, “All I wanted,” he said, “was to be with my hero. An autograph, a picture, maybe a few minutes to get to know her. Yet… I was turned away again and again. And this concert only proved what I had thought for a long time now – she’s a hypocrite. She says that’s she’s all for peace and love, yet she has millions, hardly spends a few minutes with her fans, and now she’s stepping down for – what? So that she could spend the rest of her days in luxury and not give a thought about anyone like us that supported her? She doesn’t care. So, what I did was doing the whole world a favor and sparing everyone from what damage she could have done. And you know what? I hope she drops dead.”
Dawn’s eyes were filled with rage, tears dropping from every hateful word Aficionado said. He would love to beat him further. Would have done something horrible after what he did to an innocent teenager. But looking directly at a murder’s mad gaze, he replied. “Here's an idea: why can’t you give peace a bloody chance?”