//------------------------------// // Chapter 1 // Story: On Golden Heartstrings // by TwoTone //------------------------------// It was another hot night. A lone unicorn tossed and turned beneath the blanket on her bed, her hind legs sticking out from beneath the blanket. Her aquamarine fur glowed lightly from what little moonlight managed to ebb in past the blinds. She rolled onto her back and took a good hard look at the ceiling. Her eyes had adjusted to the minimal light in the room. In truth, she wished it could be darker. Still, the moonlight did provide a warm, gentle glow. Unfortunately, it also instilled a sort of romanticism in her, which prevented her from passing into the sweet embrace of sleep. Lyra Heartstrings sighed to herself rather loudly. Her mind seemed to be a cacophony of mixed feelings and thoughts, keeping whatever hopes she had for sleep muted behind it's mind shattering volume. She put two hooves into the air, idly waving them above herself. She thought about her life; where she'd been, where she was now. The dreams of her youth seemed so far away now. The world had done it's best to make her grow up, to force her to give up her dreams in favor of practicality and logic. She wasn't a filly anymore and was expected to think and act like an adult. She found the thought of responsibility impossibly dull. “What's the point of living if it's the same old routine day in and day out?” She caught herself wondering aloud. Her hooves came crashing down onto her mattress. She hated when she got like this. She knew right where her thoughts were headed. A sense of helplessness crossed over her as she tried to clear her head. Failure. The word smashed through the brick wall of her logic, smashing through to rob her of any chance of escaping this self-abusive tirade. She felt her heart sink as the thoughts came crashing into her mind. She audibly groaned, grabbing her pillow and stuffing it over her face in an attempt to stifle the self-depreciating thoughts working there way into her mind. Failure. There it was again. “I'm...” She choked on her own words. A lump had grown in her throat. Tears stung at her eyes. She was losing her battle with her will, just like always. Lyra cried out into the pillow. Frustrated, she threw it away. A soft thud responded from the opposite wall. “I'm just a failure...” She said to herself softly. She'd given up fighting it, as it seemed to always overpower her. In a way, there was a sense of relief to be found in accepting it. It seemed easier than trying to fight it. She thought of all the things she'd dreamed of doing when she was young. She thought of the life she would live. She thought of how proud her parents would be of her achievements, how they'd brag to their neighbors and friends of their brilliant daughter. She thought of her friends back home, how excited they would be upon her return. A smile broke her face for a moment as she lost herself to her dreams. People would know her name as she walked down the street, stopping to say how much they respected and admired her. She'd finally found a place where she belonged, where she was well liked and had a real sense of home. Failure. She cringed as her dreams broke. She desperately grabbed for them, as the slipped away into the dark recesses of the void. She whimpered as reality set in once again. She had always been a dreamer, but her dreams had evaded her more often than not. Even her longest dream, something as simple as finding that one special somepony to settle down with had escaped her. Her older and younger sisters had both been in serious relationships for awhile now. It was just Lyra who was all alone. She always convinced her family and friends that she was just too dedicated to her work to have time for somepony else. Lyra turned over onto her side and stared at the window. She was lonely. She had an extremely difficult time making friends. She constantly wondered why this was, as she thought herself to be genuinely altruistic. A laugh broke her lips. “I must be one heckuvan awkward pony,” she said to the remaining pillow. She remembered the friends she had in college. She had shared a suite with her sister and a small group of their friends. She had one of the four single rooms in the suite, which was perfect for her, as she really enjoyed her alone time. The following year however, she had been forced to move into the double, as the entire suite voted on who would get the singles. She had entertained the idea, as she would now get to room with one of her best friends at the college. She remembered how one day she was lounging around on her bed, the top bunk of the bed her and her roommate made, when her RA came in to say hi. Lyra lay upside down on her bed, her flank and legs raised up against the wall as her back and head lay sideways across the bed. Soft music filled the room from a gramophone across the room. She heard the door to the suite open, which piqued her attention as she was alone in the suite, and as such was very bored. “Hello?” a voice asked from down the hall. “In here!” Lyra's said, albeit a little more excited than she intended to. Although she did enjoy her solitude at certain times, she enjoyed companionship even more she was bored. Lyra kicked her hind legs back and forth from the wall as she waited for her guest to find her way to the room. Karel's striped form stood in the doorway, a smile on her face. Lyra looked over, and in the coolest voice she could muster, said, “Sup.” Karel giggled at Lyra's absurd position on the bed, chocking it up to it just being another case of Lyra being Lyra. “How's it going, Lyra?” Karel asked, taking a seat on the vacant bunk below. “Meh, you know. Just kinda hanging around,” Lyra responded, mentally slapping herself for such a stupid pun. “I see...” Karel began. Clearly she didn't find the pun to be that great. “Where's everyone else?” “Oh you know, off getting an education and stuff.” Lyra flipped onto her belly and began idly poking at Karel's head. She smiled to herself, clearly amused. “Hey, careful! Don't mess up my mane!” Karel had been working on having 'true' dreadlocks. This meant not washing her hair, which Lyra had found infinitely amusing. Lyra brought her hooves up under her chin, as Karel stood up and turned to face her. “My bad... I get carried away sometimes,” Lyra said. “Lyra,” Karel began with a smirk on her face, “you're a cool filly, but I don't think I could live with you. I don't know how Cherilee does it.” Lyra felt a twinge of hurt, but brushed it aside. She smirked back, saying, “Well duh, she wants to be a teacher. She's gonna have to deal with much worse than me.” Lyra finished by sticking her tongue out. Lyra shook her head. She knew she sometimes had a problem with self control. She would often take things too far, and immediately regret it afterward. However, pride and fear prevented her from apologizing or admitting it to anypony, so she would bottle up her self-hatred and put on a smile. Just Lyra being Lyra. She rolled onto her back again, mentally exhausted from berating herself over her various idiosyncrasies and failures. Finally, her the rapid torrent of thoughts had slowed down to a small trickle. Her heart felt a little less broken as her resolve began to steel itself once more. She felt her eyelids grow heavy and her body relax as the tumultuous war for sleep was finally coming to an end. Tomorrow was going to be another long day. {||||} The dark blue blanket rose and sank softly with the breathing of it's entangled occupant. A black pillow lay on the floor across the room. Rays of sunlight pierced through the blinds, illuminating the room. Birds chirped outside the window, merrily singing their songs. Lyra had somehow managed to not only flip the blanket inside out, but had also worked herself so she was sideways on the bed. A soft bell began to ring, growing steadily louder with each passing second. The ball beneath the blanket stirred gently. Lazy eyes, tired from a restless night's sleep, peered from beneath it at the clock on the window sill. The blanket then seemed to swallow the poor unicorn back up. The bell grew incessantly louder, before suddenly, the blanket mass jumped into the air. “Eep! I'm gonna be late!” Lyra cried from her blankety prison. She attempted to toss the blanket and leap from the bed in one swift movement, but being barely awake had affected her dexterity. She promptly fell face first onto the floor. “It's gonna be one of those days...” She moaned, rubbing her muzzle. {||||} The day never seemed like it would end. Lyra found herself zoning out more often than usual. This caused her boss to chide her a few times, to whom she fervently apologized. She hated her dead end job. She worked in a repair shop, with mainly Earth ponies. At first, she thought being a unicorn in an Earth pony shop was her chance to shine. However, she unfortunately seemed to cause more harm than good. The manager was constantly breathing down Lyra's neck due to this, but her dedication to fixing her mistakes and working hard had allowed her to remain employed. She wanted to leave so badly, but she needed the bits to be able to afford to survive. Lyra consistently told herself that this was just temporary, at least until she could save up enough money to really get her career going. She began to daydream, seeing herself on a stage with thousands of adoring fans cheering her name. She held her lyre before her in a golden aura. Softly, her magic manipulated her instrument, letting notes ring out into the crowd. She closed her eyes, losing herself to the melody she was playing. Words began to form in her mind as she started to sing... “LYRA!” a voice broke into her dream, inches away. She instinctively lowered her ears as she knew she'd been caught. She opened an eye to see a very furious, dark brown, Earth pony staring into her face. He wore a dark tan vest, affixed with a name tag that read “Manager - Pop Rivet”. She recoiled slightly as his imposing gaze seemed to stare into her soul. “Sleeping on the job again?!” His voice continued to yell, “How many times does this make it?!” “I-I'm s-s-sorry Mr. R-Rivet...” Lyra said quietly under her breath. “Lyra...” His voice had resumed a normal tone, although the furious look remained on his face. “I'm so sorry Mr. Rivet. I just haven't been sleeping and-” He held a hoof up in front of her face. “Look Lyra,” he began. “I got a business to run. Bits ain't as easy to come by as they have been. We're in a recession for Celestia's sake! I can't have my workers bein' dead weight!” Pop started to work himself back up. “Mr. Rivet, I promise, it won't happen again! I promise...” Lyra could feel the tears coming. She needed this job, badly. Pop turned his head away. “Lyra. You're a hard worker. You really are. I'm sure a mare like you can find somewhere that's more suited for you,” He wouldn't look at her. Lyra could feel her heart breaking. A hiccup rose up in her throat. “Sorry kid. You're fired.” {||||} Lyra made it back to her apartment in record time. Her face stung from the never ending flow of tears running down it. Her hiccups only seemed to have gotten worse. To her, the world might as well have ended right there. It had taken her months to find any job, and she had spent all her savings just to keep herself afloat before then. Her job had paid her only a little more than what she needed to live, so she barely had anything saved up now. She buried her face into her pillow, crying loudly. This wasn't what it was supposed to be like. She was supposed to be somepony. She was supposed to not have to worry about money. She was supposed to just being doing what she loved. It wasn't fair. It had taken nearly an hour for her to calm down enough to take her head out of the soggy pillow. It had become quite soaked in her tears. Lyra didn't care. She wiped some of the snot away from her nose, rubbing it off on the pillow. She then sat up on the bed. In the corner of the room, she spied her lyre. The one thing that had always guaranteed her happiness. Shakily, she floated it in front of her. She sniffed once, wiped a tear from her eye, and began to play. A sad, melancholy tune came from the instrument. She poured the fragments of her broken heart into the song as she played it. The lyre had become a catalyst for her emotion. She plucked the strings harder as the song grew darker and more violent. Her sadness and anger mixed to create a dark tune that could grab a hold of the heart of anypony, and a give them a glimpse of the sadness in Lyra's life. Questions began to flare into Lyra's mind. Why am I alone when my sisters have somepony? Her aura tightened on the lyre. How come everypony else gets to be happy, and I have to work for it? The strings plucked harder. What does fate have against me?! A discordant burst of splintering wood and broken strings broke the song. Lyra opened her eyes, stunned, her mouth agape. “No...” she said softly, looking down at the broken instrument. “No, No, No, No, NO!” She screamed at her fallen savior. She wrapped her hooves around it, holding it, hoping that it would magically fix itself. A single tear ran down her cheek.