//------------------------------//
// 02. | Treble Clef 
// Story: Marking Time 
// by Nytus 
//------------------------------//

I stepped out of my apartment the following morning and immediately knocked on Misty's door. I wanted to be sure that she was all right, considering the state I had left her in the night before. She had a significant amount to drink, and I felt at least somewhat responsible for her well-being, having put her to bed without forcing an equally impressive amount of water down her throat to avoid the worst side effects of cheap cider.

"Misty," I called out, hammering on her door a second time. "It's DC. Are you good in there? Do you need anything?"

A murmured protest filtering through the closed doorway was her only response, but at least I was satisfied that she was still breathing. Some days, that's all you could reasonably expect from her before noon.

On the other hoof, I usually rose with the sun, so considering it was at least an hour past sunrise meant I had already lost potential opportunities for the day. 

My first destination for the day was the local convenience store. A quick prepackaged sandwich and a single-serve carton of orange juice usually made the rest of the day bearable. The other early risers of the community seemed to unanimously agree that the area directly in front of the store was the ideal place to loiter and spread gossip, which is how I learned about the entertainer vacancy at Scrat's Bar in the first place.

Coincidentally, Scrat was among them that morning, so I made it a point to greet him. Remaining cordial with the stallion who paid your bills was just good business; as a result, I managed to secure another evening on his stage. I'd be reusing the same song again, but until somepony bothered to listen to it, I doubted there was much need to write another.

I carried my breakfast back to the apartment and sat on the only provided piece of furniture—a bed—to eat it while I resumed my train of thought from the night before with a slightly clearer head.

Smooth Talker doesn't seem to lack anything, I mused, absentmindedly chewing on the stale rosebud sandwich. His club is established and likely one of the most popular businesses on the ground. He has a house DJ, meaning he doesn't need additional live entertainers unless they are famous or can otherwise draw a crowd.

I supposed he could have merely been dangling the carrot before my eyes, hoping to earn some company for the evening. It certainly wouldn't have been the first time somepony had tried that. Just whisper a few sweet assurances that you have no intention of keeping, and it's not surprising that you get what you want—and once you have it, the promise no longer matters.

That was the most logical reasoning. It made the most sense in Smooth's position, but I wasn't convinced that was the only motivation. There were plenty of other mares in the club, many of which were tourists he'd never encounter again, so why risk complicating things with a local?

He obviously has a history with Misty Gaze, I thought to myself, finishing off the last of my breakfast with a long pull from the juice box. Maybe he made the offer in good faith as a favor, or apology, to her? I don't think he was one of her customers, so perhaps they dated each other in the past, or maybe she worked for him before changing careers?

"Either way," I said aloud, mostly to break the silence that had begun to feel oppressive, "it is something to keep in mind. I am sure I can take advantage of the opportunity, I just need to be patient. If he has ulterior motives, he won't be able to hide them indefinitely."

The rest of the afternoon passed in obscurity, the only noteworthy event being the arrival of a particularly crowded train near sunset. Most of its passengers made their way toward the balloon rentals, but more than is common remained on the ground, strangely interested in the local bars.

Curious, I, too, made my way into one such bar, Scrat's. I didn't usually make it a point to follow tourists, but the snippets of conversation I overheard piqued my interest. One young couple discussed an acrobatic routine while a group of five argued over whose name should appear first on some list.

Small groups arriving together was by no means out of place in Las Pegasus, but rarely did such groups talk about anything other than the shows they intended to view together. These ponies all seemed to be discussing shows they intended to perform together, which made them stand out.

I was surprised to see Scrat behind the counter, filling cider mugs with a smile. I had lived in the neighborhood for nearly a year and had become convinced his face was physically incapable of the muscle movements required to do so.

Once he noticed me come in, his smile, if possible, grew even more prominent. "Ah, DaCapo! Great timing; I was starting to worry all these paying customers would have to drink there cider in silence. You asked for a set this morning, here's your chance to actually be heard. Get up there!"

The throng of customers continued to speak amongst themselves, some fairly loudly, so I was reasonably confident silence wasn't their primary concern, but I wasn't about to look that gift horse in the mouth.

Who knew all it took for old Scrat to cheer himself up was money, I thought to myself as I made my way toward the rickety little stage. I wasn't dressed for the occasion, but I assumed their own conversations would be far more interesting than any lounge singer might prove to be.

Surprisingly, I keep finding new ways to be wrong.

I skipped my introduction, expecting to be ignored, and began singing softly. I chose the same song I debuted the night before but was rewarded with a noticeable reduction in background chatter this time.

Ponies are listening to me.

The elation I felt was indescribable. After the song's tempo was established and the first verse had been shared with the room, somepony among them began humming along with the music, followed by their companion sitting across the table.

Two ponies out of twenty or so in attendance, but that was more than enough to convince me my time wasn't wasted. I grew more confident as the song continued and sang a little louder. A few more ponies took notice of me; some paused their conversations to listen, while others simply stared at me while continuing their dialogue.

Once I finished, the room filled with faint applause. It wasn't thunderous by any means, but it was enough. I could feel their appreciation and surprise. I made them happy.

"Thank you, everypony. My name is DaCapo Aria, and this is only my second night performing. I hope you all enjoyed it," I said, out of breath. "Whatever competition seems to have brought you to Las Pegasus, I hope you all do well! If you want to speak with me, or buy me some cider, I will be at the bar with our host, Scrat."

I stepped off the stage and wandered to the back of the room, where I found Scrat pouring a mug of cider.

"I didn't know you could actually sing, Miss Aria," he said, sliding the drink across the bar, which came to rest right in front of me. 

I took a sip and set the mug back down again before looking him right in the eye. "What are you talking about? I sang in here yesterday."

Scrat shook his head slowly. "Not like that you didn't. Yesterday you tried too hard. Your pronunciation was too crisp for such a sad song, your fancy dress seemed like compensation for some perceived inadequacy, and you lacked any connection with your audience. You were confident enough, but you felt clinical, almost robotic. You sang a love song, but it sounded like you'd never been in love. We've all seen detached ponies with delusions of grandeur, and the regulars here usually ignore them until they can prove they aren't just thrill seekers or self-entitled brats looking for fame."

"Imagine my surprise," he continued, "when that same little pony asks for another opportunity to sing bright and early the following morning and agrees to get on stage without concern for pay when things get busy. Then, she draws additional customers through the front door simply by being heard from the street? Now that is an improvement. That is what ponies want to see. I just might have to hire you on a more permanent basis."

I sat there, stunned. Scrat wasn't wrong... I've been around ponies who were in love with each other my entire life but have probably never experienced it personally. His usual demeanor hid a surprisingly analytical mind and more than a passing knowledge of musical theory. I hadn't considered any possibility beyond his patrons being too deep into their mugs to pay attention to a newcomer. Was it possible they paid significantly more attention than anticipated, hoping to be impressed?

"I... ah, thank you, Scrat. It seems I underestimated you and the local lushes." I took a mouthful of the sweet cider and glanced around the room as I considered his word further.

A few young stallions scattered around the various friend groups met my eye before turning away, but for the most part, conversations resumed once the entertainment ended. Whatever drew them here was obviously of great interest to them. I made a mental note to find out what that might be.

A few hours later, I again stood upon Scrat's stage and delivered yet another rendition of Wendigo Snow. It didn't prompt any audience participation this time, but the locals paid attention and offered polite applause once I had finished. Apparently, Scrat had informed each of them that I was worth listening to as he filled their orders. A few tips awaited me at the bar, and my official pay was nearly twice what I took home the night before. 

	I could get used to this.

My sleep that evening was occasionally marred by the sounds of business next door, but I didn't mind. I achieved my pay goals today; let Misty reach hers.





The following day, I stepped outside with the intent of purchasing my usual breakfast when I was greeted by an unexpected sight. Misty was sitting in her doorway, excited and far more alert than was typical at this time of day.

"DC, darlin', just the gal I wanted to see," she gushed. "You got any plan for next week? Tell me you're free, girl, because 'ave I got a prize!"

Intrigued, I closed the distance between us and sat down.

"Can't say I have anything on the calendar just yet. What's got you so eager," I asked. Anything that could wake Misty this early or keep her attention long enough to keep her from going to bed in the first place was worth learning about.

"My client last night didn't have any bits on him, the swindler, but after politely discussing the matter after services rendered, he agreed on an alternate form of payment," she said proudly. "Feast your eyes on these!"

She produced a trio of cardstock tickets from seemingly nowhere for something called 'The Equestria Games.'

"I owe Smooth Talker a bit of money for drinks here and there, so I'll probably give one to him, but it would be so amazing if you'd come with me using the other two!"

Suddenly the new arrivals in town made sense. "Of course, I'll go with you, Misty. That must be why so many new entertainers have started filtering into town. They're participating in these games."

My smug deduction was cut short by Misty's laughter. "Them? Oh, Celestia above, no! Those guys are just here to qualify for the games or are trying to represent their hometowns by carrying a flag or somethin' silly like that. The Games aren't being held in Las Pegasus, they're going to be in the Crystal Empire! Can you believe it!? I never thought I'd have the chance to see thousand-year-old see-through ponies, did you?"

"Actually," I began, "yeah, I have met a few. They're not all that different from us."

Misty Gaze looked impressed and launched a barrage of follow-up questions, which, I am ashamed to admit, I provided her with somewhat sparse answers. Crystal ponies were not among my favorite topics of conversation.

Finally, I interrupted her. "I'm sorry, Misty. I need to get going. Got someplace to be this morning, you understand."

"Oh, right. I didn't mean to hold you up. We'll talk later tonight, yeah?"

I spent the day making inquiries with other bars in the neighborhood. I only knew one song and was certain Scrat's regulars would get tired of it quickly if I didn't change things up a little. Until I could find the time to write another one, I decided to spread my performances as much as possible around the town.





The week leading up to our trip was mainly spent the same way, with the notable addition of setting aside an hour each night before bed for songwriting. Eventually, the day arrived when we were to board the train bound for the Crystal Empire. 

"Wow, DC, would ya look at that," Misty Gaze exclaimed as we approached the boarding platform. "Even their trains are made of crystal!"

A chuckle from my right reminded me we had an extra party member along for the ride. "It sure is. I am just glad most of it is opaque. I think I'd get sick if I had to sit inside something like that for a day or two watching the world slide by beneath my hooves," said Smooth Talker.

Something about that pony still seemed disingenuous, but I agreed with him for once. "Yeah, I have never been the biggest fan of trains in general, but I will give Princess Cadence credit where it's due; her empire has only been around for a year or two, and already she's connected it to the entire Equestrian rail system. That is impressive."

My companions both nodded their agreement as we stepped into our assigned carriage. It was very spacious. Obviously intended for long voyages between the Empire and Equestria, each sleeper car was divided into four private estates. Each of these cubicles contained a pair of bunk beds, the bottom bunks each folded up into seating areas facing one another with a large picture window providing breathtaking scenery.

As we were storing our luggage—which is to say, as Smooth was storing his luggage while Misty and I both tossed a single small bag of travel essentials onto our bunks—the silence was once again disturbed by Smooth's voice.

"You know, DaCapo, I've been hearing good things about you the past couple of days. A few local bar owners have spread vicious rumors about how enchanting your voice can be. Now, it can't be said that I haven't wanted to hear such magical music for myself, but for some reason you still haven't taken up my offer."

I rolled my eyes, to the amusement of Misty Gaze, before turning toward the club owner. "Well, Smooth, that might be because your offer came with implied conditions."

A fake gasp issued from his mouth. "I'm hurt, DC. Truly. I would never take advantage of my position like that. Here, let me prove it to you. I'll set you up with a singing gig in the empire during our stay; how's that? No strings, no quid pro quo. I just want to see what everybody is raving about."

Interesting; let's see where he takes this. He can't pull that off the week of such a significant event. I know he's never been here before. There is no chance of finding an available venue on such short notice.

"All right, Smooth Talker, you're on. I'll even reward your tenacity if you can pull it off. If you can book me a paid performance while we are in town, I'll grace you with my presence while we eat at one of the nicer restaurants in the city, on your bit, of course."

"Of course," he parroted. "I hope you brought that glittery gown of yours because most of the fine dining in the Crystal Empire has a dress code."

I didn't. The dress in question wasn't mine, and I returned it to the store I'd rented it from several days before the trip. The clerk wasn't pleased with its condition, having spent the night absorbing cider stains on my floor, so odds were reasonably high that I wouldn't see it again. That didn't bother me, though, as I wasn't nearly as optimistic about Smooth's chances as he was, and if it came down to it, I could always rent another with the earnings from the gig.

It took two days to reach the capital city of the Crystal Empire. The song I had been working on helped to distract me from any potential vertigo that threatened to ruin my day. It was nearly finished when the massive spire-like castle rising above the central square came into view, and the train came to a hissing halt.

Once again, Misty was enthusiastic. "Did you see that, DC? There's a physical line surrounding the city where the snow stops and it gets loads warmer!"

I managed a smile for my friend. "Yeah, that would be because of the Crystal Heart. It stores so much love inside of it that it can build a shield all the way around the city."

"Oh, like the one in Canterlot," she asked, with a momentary aversion detectable in her voice.

	Strange. I wonder what that's all about.

"Canterlot," I said. "I didn't know the capital had a magic shield."

It was Smooth who replied to that. "It doesn't. She's probably talking about the barrier the royal guard put up to protect the princess's wedding. It didn't work very well though, since the changelings still managed to invade."

Of course, I had heard about the attack on the royal wedding, but this was the first time anypony had mentioned a citywide shield spell. It was comforting to know that Misty Gaze was better informed about world events than I sometimes gave her credit for. It wasn't always easy to take her eternally cheerful personality seriously.

Smooth excused himself once we disembarked the train, claiming to want to check into our hotel before seeing a pony about a venue. His eagerness to network with the local businesses was initially impressive until I remembered all he was really interested in was the dinner afterward. I wasn't going to complain about his absence, though; it was much nicer spending time with Misty.

"That's new," I said absentmindedly as we wandered the street. Ahead of us stood a giant crystal statue of an adolescent dragon holding a second heart-shaped crystal above his head. Several ponies had gathered around it, talking amongst themselves and looking up in awe.

"New? Have you been here before, DC?"

I had barely opened my mouth to respond when a crystal mare rushed up and excitedly cut me off. "That is Great and Honorable Spike, the Brave and Glorious. He saved the entire empire from King Sombra by returning the missing Crystal Heart to Princess Cadence!"

	Revisionist history? That's not the story I remember.

"That's the Crystal Heart," I heard Misty ask, completely derailed from her previous line of thought.

The crystal mare simply laughed, shaking her head as she pointed a hoof behind her, toward the palace. "Of course not, that is the Crystal Heart!"

As one, Misty and I both turned our heads, seemingly in slow motion. One of the most powerful artifacts in the world was beneath the palace spire in the middle of the square, spinning wildly and levitating above a short pedestal. Seemingly unguarded.

Far too many emotions welled inside me, and I felt myself lift a hoof as if to step toward it. It was awe-inspiring, and the power it gave off was palpable. I could almost feel the love it radiated, and I simply couldn't pry my eyes away.

"The love of an entire nation, condensed into one fragile piece of crystal," came Misty's soft yet unexpectedly reverent voice. Her statement had almost as much awe and longing as I was feeling.

"Neat, isn't it?" 

Of course, the annoying mare has to ruin the moment. 

"That's what protects us from the blizzards outside the city. Princess Cadence decided to put it on display during the Equestria Games."

I shook my head to clear my thoughts and nudged Misty, who looked momentarily upset at the jostle until she noticed where it came from.

I jerked my head toward the arena, prompting her to follow me quietly, leaving our would-be tour guide alone, rambling to herself about the city's history for whoever would stop and listen. The poor fools.

We arrived a bit late for the opening ceremonies, but thankfully all we seemed to have missed was the lighting of the torch. The crowd was murmuring about the spectacle, but neither of us gave it much thought. Who cares if a local celebrity had a bit of stage fright? The torch was burning brightly, and the games were about to begin. No harm. No foul. 

The games were entertaining, and it was definitely a bit intimidating seeing four alicorns in the flesh, even if they were on the far side of the arena. The same celebrity who lit the torch, none other than the dragon represented by the statue outside, performed the most offensive rendition of the Wonderbolts anthem I had ever heard. Still, otherwise, the evening came to a close without a hitch. 

It took a considerable amount of time to exit the stadium, pushing our way through tens of thousands of ponies doing the same thing, but eventually, we made our way to the hotel. Smooth Talker was waiting for us when we arrived and even held the door like a proper gentlecolt. The effort must have been exhausting for him.

That night, I was unable to sleep. Multiple times throughout the night, I found myself rising and wandering over to the window, looking out across the city and the palace spire rising above it all.

The Equestria Games went on for four more days. Each day's events were fun to watch, but the real show came on the final day. Ice Archery wasn't an event I was familiar with going into the week, but seeing what it could accomplish, even accidentally, gave me a whole new respect for the art. 

One single arrow was accidentally fired into a cloud, nearly crushed thousands of ponies in the stadium as it turned to ice and fell. Spike, the Brave and Glorious, apparently lived up to his titles when he melted the mini-meteor with a single shot of fire breath. I was unsure if it was a legitimate emergency or merely a publicity stunt, but it definitely made an impression on the crowd.

The closing ceremonies lasted well into the night, which meant that most ponies would stay in town for at least one more night before returning home in the morning. We decided to stay in the Crystal Empire for three additional days to avoid the rush on outbound trains. None of us had much going on back home, and Smooth Talker was awfully smug about something.

Misty and I had shared a bed all week while Smooth laid claim to the second for himself. He had offered to share it with either of us and, at one point, both of us, but we politely declined.

Like every other night in that hotel, I stared out the window more often than I slept in my bed. There were many revelers in the street, even in the dead of night. I spent some time watching them, but my eyes always drifted back to the palace.

"Pretty, isn't it," came the muted voice of Smooth Talker, keeping his voice down so as not to wake Misty. He stepped beside me, and I even managed to contain my revulsion as I made room for him by the window.

"I suppose so."

His signature little chuckle sounded even creepier when he tried to keep the volume down. "Well, I think so, though I've seen better."

	Ugh.

"Have you thought about which restaurant you'd like to go to," he asked with a pregnant pause before continuing, "because I got you that gig you wanted."

"Oh? It's a paying gig, right? I do believe that was the condition we set."

He smiled briefly before leaving the window and turning back toward his bed. "It is, at least for the winner. I couldn't pull enough strings on such short notice to get you your own stage, but I did manage to add you to a karaoke competition."

I snorted, unexpectedly amused by his statement. "A karaoke contest? Seriously?"

"Seriously. It is hosted by a local cafe but offers a twenty-five-bit prize for the winner. Fifteen bits to second place and ten for third. All you have to do is place in the top three and you got yourself a 'paying gig'." He turned back toward me, bowing like he'd just performed a miracle before flopping down on the bed. "You may now praise me." 

To be fair, I was impressed he managed that much. Twenty-five bits wasn't a fortune, but it was more than I made on any given evening at the neighborhood bars, so I supposed that counted... if I won.

"I'll save the praise for after I win that thing. It's not what I was anticipating, but it'll do."

"Oh," he said in what I am sure he thought was a playful tone, "be still my beating heart. The diva acknowledges my contribution."

"Oh, be quiet, Smooth. Go to bed and leave me alone. I want to wind down without having to listen to your slippery voice."

He chuckled again. "You wound me, you know that? Good night, Miss DaCapo Aria, diva of the Las Pegasus slums."

The room went quiet. I spent another hour staring out the window before returning to bed. 





As expected, the streets and train station were in utter chaos the next day. Ponies rushed to get home, only to be bottlenecked at the ticket booth. I decided to stay in the hotel room, finishing my new song, until things calmed down. 

That took the entire three days we had planned. On the final day of our extension, I decided to stretch my legs, so I walked to the neighborhood where the contest was set to take place.

The karaoke contest Smooth had mentioned was located in the outdoor seating area of a suburban cafe. It was a quaint little place close to the edge of town and well within visual range of the Crystal Heart's invisible magical barrier. A pile of snow seemed to lean against empty air, just a few dozen paces away.

Throughout the day, I watched with little else to do as ponies worked to erect a small stage. They went all out for such a small venue, installing lighting on scaffolding, notable speakers on either side of the stage, and a sizeable open-walled tent slung over the seating area to keep the audience in the shade.

By early afternoon, the crews were done setting everything up, and remarkably ponies began to filter in and find their seats an hour or more before the contest was scheduled to commence.

Smooth was nowhere to be found, but that didn't bother me much. Misty found me shortly before things got underway and followed me into the cafe, searching for whoever was organizing the event. 

After a few minutes of wandering aimlessly backstage, somepony was nice enough to direct me to the waiting room, where several other ponies were rehearsing or looking over sheet music. 

The first several performances of the evening turned out to be pretty amateur, almost yelling into the microphone like school fillies. One or two provided genuine entertainment, which restored my faith in being among them.

"Nervous," Misty asked when I was told I'd be up next.

I shook my head and gave her a smile. "Not a bit. I don't know if I want to bring my A-game, though. Winning means I'll have to go on a date with Smooth Talker," I joked to lighten the mood.

"Oh, he's really not so bad, darlin," she huffed. "he talks a big game, but he's surprisingly lovely when nopony's lookin."

"Uh huh... that would be a surprise. Maybe I'll still aim for fourth."

"Up to you, but it'd be a shame to deny these ponies your very best."

A knock on the door announced it was my turn to take the stage, so I hugged Misty Gaze and followed the barista-turned-bouncer to the stage.

"Good evening, everypony. My name is DaCapo Aria. I'm from Las Pegasus and was convinced to join this competition by a friend of mine. I wrote the song myself, so I hope you all enjoy it."

	The song I wrote was a bit more foalish than Wendigo Snow, but I figured it wouldn't be bad to have a little light-hearted piece in my repertoire. Not every song has to be sad, especially around ponies.

This is it. It's not my debut, but it does happen to be the largest crowd I've sung for. Everypony here has explicitly come to be entertained, so expectations are higher than I am used to. I can do this. Let's show them who I am.

♫ Zoom, zoom! 
♫ Zoom, zoom!
♫ My coltfriend is soaring by 
♫ He's a pegasus!

♫ He glitters brightly as he dips and dives
♫ The wind is blowing as he races on by
♫ He leaves a vapor trail of 
♫ Two hearts intertwined

♫ I love him; he loves me
♫ But unfor-tu-nately…
♫ He's more in love with his routine
♫ Than he is with me

I passed my gaze across the crowd of ponies listening to my performance. It was rewarding to see so many swaying in time with my voice. I made eye contact with as many as possible, building my confidence further.

♫ All alone on the ground today
♫ Looking skyward amongst the fluffy bouquet
♫ Of clouds carved just for me
♫ To remind me he's coming my way

As I sang, I started moving across the stage to include more of the audience in my interactions. Just as I decided that I actually wanted to win this competition, I saw her, which almost caused me to stumble over my words; a light green crystal mare with a blue mane, blue eyes, and a double horseshoe cutiemark.

♫ I love him; he loves me
♫ I watch as everypony says:
♫ I'd give my hind leg to
♫ Date a Wonderbolt

Sitting next to her was an elderly blue crystal stallion with white hair and the former imperial family's crest as his cutiemark.

♫ I love him
♫ He loves me
♫ Which makes it all okay

My song ended while locking eyes with the young mare. She was smiling, laughing, and happier than I had seen her in years. The crowd stomped their hooves, applauding my performance, but I barely took notice of that.

"Double Time..." I began to say, just as the world around me exploded and went dark. 

A burst of theatrical smoke announced the arrival of two strange beings on stage next to me.

"Surprise! Oh, I do love a good party," said Discord. 

"Too bad this is where this one ends," the second figure said in a menacing growl. He stepped forward and removed the hood of his oversized cloak, revealing a monkey-like torso above an equine body.

A ball of orange magic coalesced above his head, sending arcing beams of energy into the crowd, slamming into each and every pony in attendance.

One of those beams enveloped me as well, and I felt fear like I'd never known before. Every scrap of my magical reserve was siphoned away from me as though the beast were draining my soul.

All my emotions seemed to be pulled out in a green mass of emerald energy, stripping away the identity I had spent more than a year cultivating. Green flames briefly washed over me and were pulled into that arc of escaping magic.

Within seconds, I was exposed; my glossy black chitin shone brightly in the stage lighting. I crumpled to the floor on stage as my legs gave out and looked down at myself. I could see the audience reflected in my carapace, but I somehow found the image of the only two who mattered.

Warden and Double Time were still writhing within the villain's magical aura. Watching their inner strength fade away, I saw them both look up at me. I wasn't sure if they were in shock over what was happening or pleading with me to do something about it. All I knew for sure was they saw me, and over the cacophony of screaming, frightened ponies, I could clearly make out two words, weakly uttered in unison...

"Carina?"

"...monster."