“Aha! found it! Fi-na-lly!” Seeking Song exclaimed, while waving around a thin paperback volume with a gray cover. While seemingly innocuous, this particular volume had taken Song three years to track down. Hard to believe that it’s almost over, just have to destroy this and be done with it. Seeking Song broke into an impromptu dance on top of one of her beloved tables. Had a patron of her newly opened library seen her, they probably would have broken down into laughter at the sight of the normally reserved, almost chilly mare’s silly jig.

Song finally calmed down and sat to read the book that had caused her so much trouble. The Middle Winds was a book with a rich and varied past. It had been dropping into and out of the lives of ponies since before the Migration. It had been copied, reproduced, banned, burned, and alternately stamped out and brought back into society’s collective eye. It was a work of art as much as history and was part of a series of books that had, oddly, all been forgotten. The Middle Winds was a book about music.

Song had first come across the book in the final year of her high school career in her mathematics class of all places. Her teacher, Rising Count, had been explaining about the mathematical structure of musical works. It was an interesting lecture, though not more so than any other day. What had caught her attention had been when her teacher had stumbled over a word while speaking about the book. It went unnoticed by the others in the class, but to Song, it had been like a short scream in her ear. It was a chord, C-11, and it was loud. A day later, Rising Count was dead - supposedly from natural causes.

That would have been the end of the incident if Song had let the coincidence go. She could have left it alone but being the intelligent, bookish (of course she was an avid mystery reader), and curious type she absolutely had to explore the incident that almost screamed “I’m-a-mystery-come-solve-me”.

Needless to say, her adventure did not go well. Three years, seven near-death experiences, and a mountain of books later, Seeking Song was at the end of her rope. Thankfully, she’d finally tracked down the book to read.

The mare opened the book and read the title and author, The Middle Winds by D#7#5.

Seeking Song almost dropped the book when the chord rang in the empty room of her library. What the hay did I get myself into, the mare groaned, none of this crazy, ridiculous, exhausting search makes sense. She actually did drop the book when she turned the page to the dedication.

For they who search for perfection in form and purity of sound.

And to they who can read this additional dedication, though our time has ended and you are all that is left of us, know that you are always heard. We leave this book as a true history of our lives and achievements. Remember us, for we are you.

And you would wish for the same.

When Seeking Song could pick up the book again and turned to the first chapter she could see a second set of text. Every other line was written in a deep green ink. Page after page was filled by two stories. The first, a dry and thorough history of the development and technical study of past musical works written in a printed typeface. The second, hundreds of hoofwritten autobiographies ranging in length from a single page to entire chapters.

Seeking Song read the entire book through twice. In the end, she was unable to destroy it as she had planned.

Seeking Song walked up to the door of the library and knocked firmly. She was smiling faintly, her former home had grown and expanded by at least a factor of three while she had been gone. After a moment, the door opened and she was greeted by a peculiar purple dragon with lime green spines, “Hi, welcome to Ponyville Library! How can I help you?”

Seeking Song’s smile grew, “Hi, I’m Seeking Song, I... um... used to live here a long time ago. I’m back in town and I’m just looking around before finding a place to stay. I’ve been travelling for a while.”

The dragon opened the door farther and stepped back, “Wow? Really? You lived here? I did some research when Twilight and I moved in and I couldn’t find any old owners. Are you sure this is the place?”

Song giggled, “Because there’s another library in an oak tree in Ponyville?” She stepped inside and looked around, “It’s so much bigger now. When I left, Berd was just a few years old and magically expanded.”

The circular library almost didn’t seem familiar to Song. Just enough had changed to remove any kind of special attachment to the building and yet she could hear Berd welcoming her in a language of nearly inaudible creaks, booms, and snaps. It remembered her, its first mother, and in its own tree-like way was glad to see her again.

“Berd?” The dragon looked at her quizzically and wondered why the mare had an ear cocked like she was listening to someone.

“It’s the tree,” Seeking Song replied, “Its name is Berd. When I planted it I sort of named it. It made me feel closer to it somehow.” Berd fell quiet and Song focused on the dragon, “You probably didn’t find any records about previous owners because I technically never owned this place. I planted Berd, I nurtured and took care of it, and then had a team of unicorns expand it until I could live inside. I didn’t ever get to complete any paperwork for it because I left a few months after moving in.”

Seeking Song sat down at a table and motioned to the other seat, “So, who’re you?”

The dragon sat down, “I’m Spike. I’m Twilight’s research and librarian assistant. She’s the main librarian and Princess Celestia’s protégé. We’re here in Ponyville to study friendship and its Elements.”

Seeking Song’s eyebrow rose, “Really? Even in Zebrica, we’ve heard of Celestia’s prized student. She’s very powerful according to the stories and rumors. And you’re saying she’s a librarian in my hometown and my old home no less?”

Spike laughed, “Yeah, I guess I am. She’ll be home any minute now. She’s at the school as a guest speaker for the foal-aged students right now. She has a morning and afternoon lecture but she’ll be home for lunch, at least. In about...” Spike looked at the clock, “an hour and a half. You’re free to stay here and wait for her. I’ll make the three of us something to eat when she gets here.”

Spike exited the room and busied himself in the kitchen making sandwiches while Song walked over to the mystery fiction section and searched for a new read. Slowly, a frown graced her features. This is the most ridiculous ordering system I’ve ever seen. She looked back toward the kitchen to make sure the door was closed and moved to the center of the room. She carefully slid her oboe off her back and got into a comfortable position to play in.

She picked a slow, almost formulaic melody and started to play it quietly. One by one first slowly and then with increasing speed, books flew off the shelf and rearranged themselves in mid-air. Seeking Song let her mind float along with the music. She’d almost finished rearranging the books when a quiet gasp from behind her signaled that she was no longer alone.

Resigning herself to a tedious explanation, Song continued the song to its conclusion before reverently placing her oboe on her back in its place of honor.

“What? How? ...What?” Spike stared at her incredulously. “What the hay was that?” Seeking Song’s smile faded and her expression returned to its usual blank state.

“I’d rather only explain once,” she said tiredly. She knew it would be a tedious, altogether exhausting conversation and that was plenty reason to stall, “it’s a kinda complicated story and it’s kind of why I’m back.”

Spike looked at her suspiciously, “You’re not going to kick us out or anything are you?”

Seeking Song’s eyes widened and her expression changed to one of surprise, “No! No, of course not, it’s just that I need a place to stay and this was always going to be my first choice.”

Spike continued to look at her suspiciously. Seeking Song winced when she realized what she’d said, “I’m definitely not kicking you out though. If, after my explanation, Twilight won’t let me stay here I’ll go an get an apartment. Really.”

Spike’s expression smile though he still looked at her warily, “Alright. I’ll be in the kitchen again. Don’t... whatever that was...” Spike waved airily in the direction of the mystery shelf, “again.”

Song nodded and pulled a book off the now author-alphabetized shelf and sat at a table to begin reading.

An hour later, the library door opened and Seeking Song looked up from her book. A purple unicorn stomped her hooves on the carpet just inside the door. Unlike Song, she was dressed for the weather in a blue puffy jacket and matching scarves and boots. She smiled at Seeking Song politely and called out for her assistant before leaving the room for the kitchen. Seeking Song closed her book and reshelved it.

A few moments later, Spike and the purple unicorn returned with matching looks of wariness and curiosity. Song sighed but smiled demurely, “I guess he’s already told you about me? Twilight Sparkle, I presume?”

The unicorn nodded, “Yes, to both questions. Why don’t we sit down?” She sat down across from Song and Spike sat a moment later between the two mares. “So, first thing’s first, Spike said you’d like to board here? How long, how much, and why?”

Seeking Song internally blinked at the unicorn’s query but outwardly maintained her blank expression, “Um, six months four days, say... 150 bits a month plus 50 a month for food, and the why... is personal. Spike’s probably told you I used to live here?”

Twilight nodded, “That seems reasonable, I can accept those terms. And he has. He also told me there aren’t any records about you ever living here.”

Seeking Song leaned back in her chair and took a sandwich to nibble on as she began her story, “I didn’t have any time to file or fill any out before I left. What did the Mayor have to say when you moved into Berd?”

At Twilight’s confused expression Spike spoke, “Apparently, Berd is this tree. She named it when she planted it.”

“Ah, I see. Well, she said that it had been empty for a while and that the ‘builder’ had disappeared... wait. That was you?” Twilight looked at Seeking Song like a she was a puzzle.

“Yes. Though I think Berd might take exception if you tried to convince him he was built rather than grown,” Seeking Song replied.

Twilight looked at her skeptically but nodded, “You wouldn’t be related to the Apple family by any chance would you? They name their trees too...” She trailed off when she saw Song’s eyes shift off for a moment.

Song replied slowly, “No... no, I’m not. I’m not related to the Apple family.”

Twilight’s eyes narrowed, she was sure she was being lied to but she couldn’t think of a reason to press for a truthful answer. Spike saved her the trouble.

“What are you hiding?” Spike asked, partially suspicious and partially curious. Seeking Song winced.

Song nodded, “I’m not sure what they’ll say if they see me. Probably nothing... kind...” She bowed her head sadly, “Please drop this, it’s personal and painful and I’d rather not talk about it.”

Twilight reluctantly nodded, “You should know, Applejack is one of my best friends. You’re at least going to have to meet her.”

Seeking Song closed her eyes and nodded, “I can do that,” she said it almost like she was trying to convince herself.

“I guess you can stay here, provided you understand that. Which brings us to my last question, magic? I’m not entirely sure I believe Spike when he said you were rearranging the bookshelves with magic.”

“I’m telling you Twilight, the books were floating in the air and she was doing it somehow.” Spike defended himself.

“I can show you if you like...” Song got up and turned to the non-fiction thaumaturgy bookshelves.

Song once again slid her oboe from her back and played the song she had before. Her eyes drifted shut within the first few bars of the melody and she swayed along the slow tempo. She couldn’t see it, but the books had all slid off their shelves and were rearranging themselves in the air. Eventually, the last notes of the melody faded out and the last books reshelved themselves. She carefully slid her oboe back onto her back and turned to look at a slack-jawed Twilight and triumphant Spike.

“What?! But-? What-? You’re-” Twilight Sparkle tried and failed to formulate a coherent thought, “You’re an earth pony for Celestia’s sake! That’s just not possible!”

The white, earth pony mare watched Twilight’s outburst amusedly, “I’m well aware it’s not supposed to be possible. But it seems to have just happened.”

Twilight sputtered for a few more moments, “But... Starswirl’s Eight Principal. And you don’t have a fully developed magerius. That’s impossible.”

Twilight shook her head, “If not the Apple family, are you related to Pinkamena Pie? She does impossible things too.” For a moment Twilgiht’s expression shifted to severe annoyance.

“Oh, well, I hope you don’t mind but the price of your board just changed to include you taking part in a few tests and experiments.” Twilight looked at Seeking Song hopefully.

Twilight would have tried to make her case except at that moment, a shockingly pink pony seemed to drop out of the ceiling, stop in mid-air upside down, right herself, and touch down on the table without a sound.

“Who has summoned me from Partyvana?” Spike fell over and started giggling uncontrollably and Twilight let her head slam onto the table. Seeking Song only blinked.

“I’m going to guess you’re Pinkamina Pie?” Seeking Song looked up at the ceiling warily. She’d seen a lot of odd things in her travels but that definitely rated first place.

Her attention was recaptured as the pink mare gasped dramatically, “A new pony! Partyvana has answered my prayers!”

Without answering Song’s question she dived off the table and disappeared as she passed the edge. Seeking Song blinked again. She looked first at Spikes incapacitated form as he writhed around laughing. She then looked at Twilight slowly rolling her face across the table and mutter something about peace dieing a quiet death.

Seeking Melodies

by AliziaRoElier

Homecoming