//------------------------------//
// Book of Harmony, Canto 2 
// Story: Fallen-Song 
// by Chicago Ted 
//------------------------------//

Then Luna thought of something rather dumb:
Instead of magic, maybe they went numb
To noise within the shadow of the place.
But how could that work here? How could become

The silence from the lack of light? A trace
Of logic could be found not here; its base
Did not exist. But Luna would forget
Not what the land could wring on them. Her face

Would squint, deep in her thought – but no thought let
Itself into her mind, about th’ onset
O’ th’ wonder they had found. She would concede
In due time, and resign herself to what may yet

Approach them. Maybe Luna had agreed
With her first theory, so with all due speed
They soon would end up in the shade again.
Perhaps there, she would find what she would need.

For now, though, they would face a diff’rent strain –
Th’ eternal sun shin’d down upon the twain,
And with it, heat would make them burn and boil
Away. Much as before, they’ve tried in vain

To hide themselv’s away, but all that toil
Did nought to block the elements. It’d foil
Their efforts, this curst land, and make the two
Suffer as though they were stuck in the coil

Of life and death. “We’ve come so far – the hue
O’ th’ sand is well obscur’d!” he said. She knew
The reason why – another sandstorm came
To ravage through the land, but not accrue

And climb up very high. She knew its aim,
But not its strength, which she found rather tame.
She ponder’d such a cause, remember’d from
Before then – what or who was here to blame?

She never found it, but instead, the calm
Assur’d her, some things should not cause a qualm.
She had to focus not on falling off
The cliffside path. “I think I see a palm

Ahead,” he spake. “Do you think just a quaff
Of water it could spare?” Then she would doff
Her hood to lean in closer to its root.
And with a hoof, she dug – and with a cough,

She let the dust to settle first. With brute
Force of his kind, Honeycomb made her scoot
Aside, and dug i’ th’ sand himself. And soon
He found his hunch was right – water would shoot,

Or rather trickle, out from ’neath the noon.
“I guess you knew,” the Princess of the Moon
Conceded. “Drink your fill, whilst we’ve still time.”
And greedily he did – he would attune

Himself to th’ coolness of the drink. The clime
Demanded such; it would have been a crime
To waste e’en one drop. Luna took her fill
As well; she found herself in need. The climb

Was long, and she would need whatever will
Speed her along the way – e’en with her skill
Of flight and magic, both of which were rare
In later times, she would conquer the hill

With him alongside. Fair Trade mention’d there
That his compos’d of Fallen, worse for wear
Once they’re forgotten. All the sand below
Was once alive as ponies, creatures – fair

The afterlife may be, but they’d not know
Their fate, unless one would observe the throe
Another underwent. But that was not
Likely – so Fair Trade had some luck to show

When he found that old seeër, who had taught
Him this land’s truth. No matter how they fought,
They could not win against their coming fate.
They should surrender, suffer as they ought –

But Luna was nought if she did not hate
Such grim eventuality. So great
Her will and might was that they came this far,
In spite of what it tried to do – its weight

Was feather-light upon her back; no star
Within her mane would wink away or mar
Her beauty. Neither would her righteous guide
Surrender to the sand and heat. “We are

Still far away fro’ th’ top,” he said. She sigh’d –
Of course he’d focus still on th’ darker side.
“But that’s no cause to stop,” she spake. “Instead,
We should keep on the move.” So she had tried,

But she could not shake th’ thought that she was dead.
Why should it matter, when up on ahead
Salvation waits now for us both? The speech
Inside her skull encourag’d her – it pled,

It begg’d, it e’en commanded, it would reach
Within the deepest caverns of her psyche, teach
Its wisdom in a way that would ingrain,
But it could not dispel what would impeach

Her courage. This malfeasance brought her pain
She could describe not, yet she would not deign
To tell her guide, and burden him with more
To worry of. And yet, she felt the strain

Upon her visage. “Why do you ignore
And hold it back?” he askt. “I do abhor
It when you do that.” “Then what must I do?”
She would return. “I’m sure you should not store

The answer, and not give.” “Then you do, too.”
She sigh’d, and spake to him, “I wish I knew
How high we have to climb – if any way
That we could find and take would not construe

Another curse, or even cause delay.”
“I’ll keep an eye out,” vow’d he. “We’ll not stray
Off our path, so long as I mind it.” Well,
Who was she to deny? “If so you say,”

Replied she. “The worst would be if I fell
And rose not from the measure.” “I can tell – ”
He pointed with his hoof – “I cannot see
The whole way to the base, so let’s not dwell

Upon such nightmares, aye?” “Agreed,” said she.
She nodded and went on ahead. “Our spree
Should not be interrupted by the worst.”
He said nought – thus, consider’d th’ matter free.

She thought of Fair Trade – he might be the first
They’ll find upon this trail – but what if erst
They mist some other ponies? She’d not think
Of them – they’d just delay, as would their thirst.

She set her hoof down harshly. In the blink,
The rock gave way. Her irises would shrink
Away, as she saw her impending doom;
And far from out her sight her guide would wink.

’Twas over in the instant – she would zoom
Straight to the bottom of the cliff. What gloom
She saw, as fog would cover up her sight!
And then she felt her spine – what little room

She had to move around. Nothing would smite
Her, long as she would breathe, yet in the white
She felt such blinding pain along her hide.
With effort prodigious, she sat upright

And lookt along her legs – and then she eyed
The open wounds, which stretcht along her stride.
To say nought of her wings, her back, her head –
The only thing unscathed was her pride.

“Is that you?” he call’d. “I thought you were dead!”
“I may as well be,” shouted she. “Instead,
Could you assist? My wings are wounded bad,
And magic could exasperate the shed

Of blood within.” Said he, “I thought you had
A way or two to save yourself. Be glad
’Twas only you who fell – and not I, too!”
He carefully made his way, just a tad

Bit down, before he understood it true.
“I’ll have to fetch a cord – but if I knew
Where I could find, I’d bring it over here!”
And then he’d disappear from Luna’s view –

For good, it seem’d. To think she’d lay in fear
Of second death, which drew now even near!
But he, the peddler, did not speak of how
She’d die before amnesia made her veer

Her life and turn to dust. It’d not allow
It premature, but rather, suffer now
And for all time – and further, as the dust –
She could not picture such a fate! Her brow

Would shut her eyes, so she’d avoid what must
Come someday, praying to him that her trust
Be not misplac’d. She saw her blood ran fast
Across her fur, and soon she had t’ adjust

Herself – she laid upon the ground. At last,
A bit of that relief so sweet, so vast.
There, she could only watch the fogged sky
Swirl in a pattern she knew not. Time past,

And she knew he’d not come. She breath’d a sigh
Of anguish and frustration, and askt, “Why
Does such a fate befall me?” She would shift
Her weight. “By all Equestria, who had I

Anger’d?” She felt the wind stir, letting drift
The lighter sand-grains in the air. I’ th’ rift
Within her skin they burrow’d, causing pain
Beyond belief. She praid he had the gift

Of scavenging as well, that he’d abstain
From those distractions on the path. In vain
She praid, for he indeed return’d, without
A thing to help her. “Do not try again!”

She shouted up to him. “I have no doubt
You’ll not succeed the second time!” Her shout
Was faint to him, it seem’d, and she would fear
That he’d not hear, and set off on the route

Again. Her injuries were most severe,
So fair luck hoisting herself out of here.
But now, she saw the only option – thus,
She clamor’d on her hoov’s, against the sheer

Amount of pain, which kict up quite a fuss
As she struggl’d against the cliff – boldness
True ’twas, and it paid off f’ her, when she found
Small holds within the rocky cliff-face – plus,

She did not fall far ’fore she hit the ground
Below. Her efforts did work to astound
Him, but that was not her intention. Soon
She was upon the path – not safe and sound,

To ascertain, but it was still a boon.
But he would have to cross th’ ravine, one strewn
With sand and sharp rocks, which struck fear in him.
“You’ve better luck than I,” she said. “Attune

Yourself not on the length, but on how slim
It truly is.” But still, he saw how grim
His fate could be – the sight of her could spell
The end – to leap this chasm, on a whim,

Was rather difficult. On that thought he’d dwell
For sev’ral moments more – what if he fell
Within? But then he saw th’ advantage of
The cliff-face, gave a running-leap – a spell

Of newfound courage hoisted him above
The drop, and ran him ’long the cliff. He’d shove
Himself off at the end, no worse for wear,
Unlike his liege, for whom his loyal love

Propell’d him right to here from over there.
He said to her, “I answer’d not your prayer,
And I regret this true.” “You did your best,
I’m sure,” replied she. “Truly, I don’t care.

All this is temporary – I’ve had rest,
E’en in the pain; now we continue th’ quest.”
Her hide was bleeding still, which stain’d her cloak
A darker shade. O how she could be blest

With healing, yet her magic would evoke
A worse wound in her head, so she would soak
Her robes. (In time, she found that she’d not bleed
Away entirely, not when she was spoke

Of in Equestria.) O what mighty need
She had f’ relief! Her body disagreed
With her surroundings, and she knew she had
To let the sand from out her scars. The tweed

Of her cloak did no favors either – mad
Her back was; it itcht all the way. A tad
Of suff’ring ’twas, compared to the heat
That it protected her from, so sh’ was glad

She had it on her back, as if to cheat
The land of further pain. She found it neat
That little victories like these can stave
Off further curses. More, she found it sweet

That e’en with all it’s done, she still could brave
The land and all it has t’ inflict. The grave
Had nought for ruth, but she would show the same
To th’ land. No matter what, she never gave

Up hope. She praid that they would know her name
For even longer – not that she became
Obsest with her own fame; the memory
Would be her lifeline to her home and aim.

Said he, “I ponder how much further we
Have yet to go – e’en now, I barely see
The top o’ th’ mountain. After such delay
You stumbl’d on, My Liege, we shan’t be free

In due time.” Luna sigh’d – “Soon comes that day
When we step back into the dawning’s ray.
Abandon not your hope – although, I’d use
A bit of kindness – ” “Kindness, do you say?”

Another voice spoke forth, as though a muse
Had heard her speak. And then, within their views,
The sandy rock would crumble yet again.
And out from where the sand fell was the ruse –

Another pony, borne from out the strain,
Emerged from the cliff. She saw her main
Along Luna’s form. “What encounter’d you?
And all those wounds, too! Why would you abstain

From mending yourself, dear?” Before she’d spew
An answer, this mare took her arm – a hue
Of gold would hover over where her fall
Had cut her open – and before her view,

The sand would vanish from the cuts, and all
Of them would seal – not e’en a scar would crawl
Along her hide; ’twas though they never were.
Luna had nary t’ say; it would appall

Her, th’ process – how could this be? Such a blur
Of golden sunlight work’d a magic, sure,
But she’d not seen it done with measur’d grace
Like this! “I thank you, healer, for my fur

Is new again,” she said. “’Tis not your place
To mend what I have caus’d myself – ” Her face
Grew dour, and Luna saw that she would not
Accept her words. “You’ve kept a rapid pace

Without much mind about the wounds you’ve brought
Upon yourself.” Before she spoke, “You ought
To be more careful, don’t you see? The path
Is merciless and unforgiving, fraught

With dangers you can’t always find.” “Its wrath
We’re well aware of,” Luna said. “The bath
Of sand we’ve well been ‘washt’ in – furthermore,
We’ve met some hostile beings – th’ aftermath

Is something we discuss not. ’Twas a chore
T’ arrive a’ th’ mountain – now, howe’er, our score
Lies high above, amid the very peak – ”
But she would silence her. “Whatever for,

My dear? I promise you, the thing you seek
Will still be there when you arrive. So bleak
Your mood is – let me help you, Princess Mine.”
“You still remember me?” “You should not speak –

You spake enough as ’twere. I shall align
Myself to you, to offer you a sign
Of trust. Of course, my name is Solar Rain,
And I know you, My Liege – and this benign

Guide, who are you?” “Honeycomb Splat – my main
Goal is the same as hers. We hope in vain
We don’t arrive.” “And you seem trouble’d, just
As well,” said Solar Rain. “Tell me your pain.”

“I’ve truly none!” he said. “In fact, we must
Be on our way. We thank you for the trust,
But we’ve not time to spare.” “I’m sure you do,”
She said, “you can’t fool me – I’ve never fust

O’er those who did not need my kindness true.”
The baker gray lookt to the princess blue,
But did not speak a word, nor would she talk.
“O come now,” said she, “I’m sure you’ve been through

The worst this land has t’ offer t’ you. You walk
Through storms of sand that blind and choke, on rock
That cannot stay cemented with your stride.
You brav’d these dangers well, which makes me gawk

At what else you’ve encounter’d. By your side
He has remain’d, in face of all, his pride
Not once to falter.” Then she shook her head.
“But even he can never last – ” she sigh’d –

“Forever. Even he should rest, instead
Of tracking onward, even more ahead.”
“If you insist,” conceded Luna. “So,
What shall we do here, seeing we can’t tread

Uphill for quite some time. What do you know?”
“I think I know as much as you – she’d show
Us something from her life before sh’ expir’d.”
Her face turn’d red. “I really should say no,

But just for you.” She clear’d her throat. “I’ve tir’d
Of holding in my words, as though requir’d
By other ones to put aside my grief.
But now you’ve given me the chance desir’d

To vent – I hope you don’t change your belief.”
“We won’t,” he said. “Then I will not be brief,”
She said in turn. “I once was known in life
For bringing forth a miracle – in chief,

I’d heal one hurt with my own magic. Rife
My time was, with those looking for a wife
Like I, but I chose not to bind by vow.
But even so, it only caused strife

Wherever I would go. They would allow
Me use my magic, then, once they saw how
I would rejuvenate, they would not leave
Until I promist them I’d not leave now

Or ever. O how they would plead and grieve,
But kindness true I’m sure would well achieve
Another promise.” “I’ve had someone quite
Like that encounter me,” he said. “My peeve

Is much the same.” And Solar Rain askt, “Might
They be identical?” “I’m sure the sight
Would tell you otherwise.” “In any case,
She then continu’d, “then came that one night,

When one I had rejected found my place
And waited right outside. In all his chase
He never gave up – seven months would see
Him to my bed. But if he thought my face

Would light up, he was gravely wrong. O me,
The things I could have done to him, but he
Would not bring forth my wrath. I simply told
Him I would never take his hoof. His knee

Grew shaky, weary, as if he were old,
And he would then ask me if I could hold
Him up. I did, and set my hoof upon
His leg – but found no fault. My magic gold

Would never work if maladies were gone.
I askt if he was sure he was no pawn
To loneliness and solitude. And hey!
He was – but I could never fix anon.

But he was not the first, as I shall say,
Nor e’en the last. There hardly was a day
I did not see one who would only wish
To stay forever by my side. I’d stray

From common roads, as though a misplac’d fish.
I still would help them, so they’d not perish
From maladies they’d otherwise not cure
By their own hoof. Howe’er, when I finish,

Despite my efforts true, they’re never sure
That I had heal’d them, e’en when I assure
Them otherwise – they always wanted more,
But never thought that always they’d endure

Alone again. In any case, before
They got ideas in their head, I swore
That I would help them, just that only time.
To spoil them on my magic I abhor.

And then another day, I heard the rhyme
That up among the Crystals was a prime
Chance for my magic. There, the Crystal King
Had taken ill, and so it’d be a crime

T’ reject him in his need. I vow’d to bring
My best to him, and set off to the thing
I’ th’ north. I would arrive in ill;
It seem’d the Empire whole would cling

To life just barely. But still, my kind will
Would not resist to help, and would instill
A bit of hope, despite the ones they’ve lost.
I took a hoof, and workt my magic skill –

And found the malady was of the frost
That crept up on the Empire. He’d accost
Me with the little gold he had, but I
Refus’d. He’d not believe that such a cost

For something that would save was nought. A lie!
He must have thought, but nay, I would not try
To cheat them – kindness is its own reward.
But then another one would happen by

And ask the same from me. I’d not afford
To lag behind, to their dismay. I’ve scor’d
Th’ attention of the king; much as I’d love
To help the others, he came first. His ward

Would keep the others off of me. Above
His tower soar’d, high as this mountain of
Whose top you’re climbing to. And at the base,
Their crystal heart would radiate the love

They all had for each other. I would trace
The lines upon the crystal floor, which’d lace
Th’ entirety o’ th’ empire, then would head
Up in the tower, in the royal place.

And there, within the bedchamber, so dead
To th’ world that he heard me not, was that red
One – or was he magenta? – anyway,
He seem’d glad that I came. And then he pled

Me for my skill, which I’d oblige. I’d say
For him to keep still, then I would allay
Th’ affliction. Magic show’d that he had not
The love of other crystal ponies – they,

By chance upon a sudden second thought,
Did not have that love themselv’s either. Wrought
From something else, th’ emotions were. I felt
The same fro’ th’ other pony – this had taught

Me what the nature of the illness dealt
To those that were afflicted. I had knelt
Down to the window, t’ see solutions that
Would not present at all. And then I smelt

An odor foul from down the hall – of fat
That burn’d within the nighttime, which begat
A bad reaction from me. If I knew
Where it came from, I would avoid, but that

Was not quite possible. And in my view
Within the past, I saw the heart, its hue
A perfect white. I askt, upon a whim,
If that was normal. I was shocked too

When he would bolt right out of bed. ’Twas grim
What I had said, apparently. So slim
His form was, yet he mov’d like a young colt
And moved down the stair, so full of vim.

I’ve never seen another pony bolt
So fast before or since. If they’d revolt,
He likely would react much slower. Still,
I met him at the tower’s base. “You dolt!”

He told his aide. “O why did you instill
Such panic ’mong my subjects?” His voice shrill,
I could not hear much more than that. I staid
Away from him, and let her stand the thrill.

After a moment, then came here the aide,
Who askt me how I saw. ‘I simply paid
Attention to th’ surroundings, looking for
Some clues to aid me in my work. – Afraid

Of him, are you?’ ‘I quite am – such a chore
He is to deal – ’ I comforted the poor
Mare then and there – and then I saw the spark
Of love ignite within her, then a roar

Of that same love erupted. She said, ‘Hark!
I feel atop the whole o’ Equestria!” Th’ mark
Upon her flank would shimmer in the light
With love within. No longer would the dark

Of their despair permeate throughout; they might
Find hope in darker times. Their heart of white
Would turn a skybound blue, to radiate
The gift of crystal love, and more, to smite

Despair wherever it could find. I’d hate
To say I needed more to lift such weight,
But truly I did – for he’d now desire
To keep me in the Empire. That’d sound great

To you, but I did not intend to stay and tire
Myself in healing-work all the entire
Day long. I said as much, but he’d not take
That for an answer – he had yet t’ acquire

A wife for himself; e’en though he could make
A crystal mare his own, he’s not partake
In marriage ’til he found the proper mare.
Apparently, that would be me. It’d ache,

My heart, to stay away from home, but there
Was nothing I could say that’d make me rare
I’ th’ Empire. My work was done, I would tell,
But he would find more, just to keep th’ affair

From ending. In his sentiment, I fell
Off from a balcony, and heard a yell
Of panic.” She sigh’d. “Then I woke up here.
I figur’d from the start that I would dwell

Among the dead forevermore. So blear
Th’ appearance was, that I could never steer
Myself in quite the right direction. So
I wander’d, quite some time. It would appear

In due time that my magic could not sew
The others’ bones together, nor would slow
The bloodflow from the skin. It was as if
Their fates were sorted out before I’d show

Within this land. A gryphon got a whiff
Of my existence, found me, rather stiff
From my exhaustion, then told me about
A place where the good go – namely, this cliff

You see before you. I askt why my route
Should take me there, but he would simply spout
Off nonsense of my kindness, which, whilst glad
To hear, did help me not t’ resolve my doubt.

And yet his words would echo through me. Mad
It drove me, to the point that I just had
To seek it out, and answer such a call.
It took so many days, which, might I add,

Is hard to track when they don’t end at all.
In any case, once I would brave the thrall
Of other ponies, beings, sandstorms too,
I came upon this very rocky wall –

The same one that you see in front of you.”
“And that is where you end this story.” “True –
But I shall say, the passage of the time
I’ th’ interim was great, and I grew bor’d

Eventually. A pleasant change fro’ th’ clime
So dry and hostile, yet in such a climb
I felt some better weather – which I mist
When I would be interr’d in here. My crime

Was nought, and yet I had a lengthy list
Of deeds to my name – thought I.” “You’d resist
The boredom all this time,” said Luna. “Pray
Tell, why did you accept at all, insist

On wand’ring through the land?” “I would, but nay,”
She said, “I wisht to walk free than to stay
Amongst the Fallen. I suppose ’tis not
Meant t’ be, so I’ll see you along your way.

You know my tale; let none such more be wrought.”
“Although,” said Luna, “it does stay the rot
Of guilt within your mind – is that not so?”
She deeply breathed. “It does – but how ought

This to help me? I’ve shown you kindness – ” “Know
That kindness is a two-way path – you show
It t’ others, they show just to you the same.
You’ve heal’d my wounds, and now, your mental throe

Is no more – we have heard; you have no shame.”
And Solar Rain did nod at her words. “Claim
A better deed, you cannot. You’ve done good.
But now the cliff calls me back. May your aim

Be true, and may you never falter!” “Could
You not join us?” he askt. “I wish I would,
But here’s my place, and nary other. Fare
Thee well, My Liege and guide!” And as she should,

Her form would meld within the rock – and there
Was not a trace of her left. With a prayer
Silent, she wisht her all the best – and soon
She took her leave, with him in tow. Her lair

Would be alone forevermore, the noon
Forever keeping watch. Some sand was strewn
Along their path, which told of higher gale.
She praid that other sandstorms were not hewn

From such conditions. Yet the mountain trail
Would take them to the shadow, where the veil
Of shade would blot the ever-burning sun.
So Luna listen’d if the quiet’d avail

Itself, as it had earlier. Yet, ’twas none.
She thought to stamp the ground, but knew what fun
She had the first time she would be such fool.
Instead, she drug her hoof, and heard it run

Along the ground. Perhaps, she thought, ’twas cruel
Fate that we suffer’d from its unjust rule –
Which makes me all the eager more to leave.
I feel no thirst – at least we won’t refuel

For quite some time. I just hope I’d believe
Her right – I won’t know if I do achieve
The prophecy she laid out before me.
Or it could be that I’m far too naïve

To roam this land and not know when to flee
From danger, where such danger possibly
Could be. But then, she had her steadfast guide
Beside her, ev’ry step o’ th’ way, to see

Her to the end. She swallow’d up her pride
And prais’d him in her mind – for he had tried
So many tricks of his own – magic? Nay!
He had the earth-borne strength he took in stride.

Of course, she did as well, and more to say,
Her horn and wings, but she’d admit that day
That his strength trumpt hers, nothing more to tell.
She could pull him fro’ th’ fall, if he should stray

Too far to th’ edge, and tumbl’d then and fell,
Which otherwise his early death would spell.
O this she fear’d the most, more than she’d face
The things this land would bring – to hear his knell

Before his time. “Why do you keep a pace
So fast?” he askt. She saw then that she’d chase
A thing unseen along the cliffside route.
The baker kept up this whole time. “Your Grace,

I beg you, slow yourself!” And right about,
She did – and suddenly she felt burnt out,
About as bad as he. His heavy pant
Betray’d exhaustion – that she had no doubt.

At least, she thought, we’re in the shade – so scant
These blessings are, forsaking them I shan’t.
What was I thinking, trotting on so quick?
I did forget my guide, to gallivant

Without a care in all Equestria. Pick
Your next words carefully. “I was quite thick,
Was I?” she asked him. “I do regret
To tire you out. Next time, I won’t be slick.”

To her relief, he nodded. “Let us get
Another stop,” he said. “With all this sweat
Along my form, I think it’s rather time
To sit within the shade – we’ve long way yet.”