//------------------------------// // Chapter 2 // Story: A Silent Duet // by Freyera //------------------------------// “Again.” Vinyl let loose an exasperated sigh, throwing a wayward glance towards the door. “Get it right, Vinyl, and then you may leave.” Cheerilee was watching her gaze. “But we’ve been at this for 2 hours. I’m not getting any better, and won’t with you breathing down my neck like this.” Wrong response. “Vinyl, your exams are in a week. If you fail, you’ll be...” “Doomed to wallow in dirty and depressing work for the rest of my natural life?” Vinyl scoffed, rolling her eyes. “Is that what you want then?” Her voice was beginning to become flustered. Vinyl paused her sarcastic comeback for the moment, mulling over the question. There was an obvious answer, and then there was... “It might be better than playing this thing.” “Do you know what happens to ponies that fail?” She had set the music sheet down, and was now staring intently at Vinyl. “Can’t say that I do.” Vinyl was watching some insignificant bug crawling across the floor. “And do you know why that is?” Cheerilee pressed forward. The bug had crawled through a hole in the wall, much to Vinyl’s dismay. “I do not.” “That’s because no pony fails this exam. Ever.” “Well there’s a first time for everything, isn’t there?” “Hayseeds Vinyl!” Cheerilee slammed her hoof onto her desk, the concussive echo reverberating off the insulated walls. “Don’t you care at all?” “I... err...” She stopped herself. “Of course I care, Ms. Cheerilee. I’m sorry.” As much as she hated being where she was, Cheerilee was only trying to help. “Then help me out here, Vinyl. For your sake.” Her voice was shaky as she tried to bring it back under control. “I will try.” Vinyl spoke as sincerely as possible, even if she didn’t know herself whether or not she was lying. “Good. Now, your homework is to learn this Etude by tomorrow. Should you fail to play it again, we will be right here again. Is that understood?” “Yes, Ma’am.” “Very good. You are dismissed.” Cheerilee gathered her books and stormed out of the room quicker than Vinyl could. “Finally.” Vinyl said to no pony in general, tossing the flute rather haphazardly into its carrying case, slamming the lid shut and sliding it into her bag before standing to leave. “If you would just learn how to play the thing, your life would be so much easier.” The voice drifted through the open door from the hallway, it’s origin hidden around the corner. “Don’t you have anything better to do than eavesdrop on me?” “Come now, Vinyl. I’d like to see you pass next week just as much as every pony else.” “I could if they’d let me play my guitar, Octavia.” As Vinyl rounded the corner, she was seated against the wall, her violin laid carefully on the floor beside her to prevent any chance of it getting caught underfoot. Octavia cringed, shaking her head. “That vile thing? What’s wrong with the flute?” “Well, for starters, it’s a flute.” Vinyl motioned towards the exit. “And it is a beautiful instrument. It weaves such perfect colors of gold and crimson, its melody as steady as the afternoon rainstorm. There is no tempo it can’t master, no rhythm it can’t match, and no texture it can’t create. Wielding it is as graceful as a candle flame, enough force to make it dance, yet not enough to extinguish it. The real question I should be asking is, why not the flute?” Vinyl had begun playfully mocking her about halfway through, mouthing words and making dramatic gestures. Only when it became apparent Octavia was blatantly ignoring her did she give it up. “But I’m no good with it. And I don’t want to become good at it. I like the guitar, why is that so bad?” They had passed through the double doors into the balmy summer afternoon, the sun beaming a sweltering heat onto the windless terrain below. “The guitar is fine, Vinyl, and every pony would be perfectly happy if you played it. The problem is you have an electric guitar, which are not accepted as an instrument for passing the test.” “I don’t see why not.” Vinyl responded bitterly, reaching out with her white shaded magic to grab her violet sunglasses. Octavia sighed, seeking the path that afforded the most amount of shade. “We’ve been over this before. Electric instruments only have one purpose, that is, to make war. And how long has it been since the last war? Sixty some odd years?” “Sixty seven.” “Precisely. So why would they allow you to have your proficiency license in electric instruments? There’s no field for it now.” Vinyl was staring intently at the ground now. Octavia was right, as always, but some part of her had hoped for a little more support from her friend, rather than infallible logic. “I’m just not interested in anything else, especially the flute. Somehow changing the seasons seems rather lame and repetitive.” “Aerophones control the seasons without exception. Why did you agree to learn it if you didn’t want to do it?” “I don’t know, because I had too? What else was there to pick after having my choice shot down?” “Well, you could have played an acoustic guitar.” Octavia replied offhandedly, though she had said this at least a hundred times during the year. Vinyl rolled her eyes. “Oh yes, that’s a much better alternative. Instead of changing the seasons, I’d get to change the weather.” “And what’s wrong with that?” She suddenly sounded hurt, stealing a glance towards her Violin. “Nothing. Nothing is wrong with it.” Vinyl attempted to recover. “I’m just not too interested in the weather either.” It was the most blatant lie she had ever conjured and continued ever since she had met Octavia. The truth was that Octavia was unrivaled with the violin, expressing a level of skill and fluency on the strings that hadn’t been seen in the last century. There was no way Vinyl’s competitive side would let her sit in the same field. “You aren’t much interested in anything except that guitar.” Octavia wasn’t buying it, her voice drifting away from the conversation. Vinyl let silence hover between them for a moment, carefully picking her next choice of words. “So, if you can change the weather, why not fix this miserable heat?” “Students are not allowed to interact with the world without supervision until they pass the test next week, which, if you paid attention in class, you’d know. And even then, like it or not, this heat has a purpose. The wheat needs to be dried out so it can be harvested.” “So, no chance of a cool breeze or shower in the next few days?” Talking about the weather always seemed to cheer Octavia up, as she was the only student privy to the forecasting done by the organization. A perk from being top of her class. “Afraid not.” She replied, her pitch brightening. “No rain for four days, assuming the wheat dries out fast enough, though we have the assurances from the farmers that it will.” They spent the next few moments walking in silence through Ponyville, weaving their way through street after street filled with the mid afternoon traffic. Vinyl was worried what she had said had upset Octavia, and she wasn’t ready to try another topic just yet. The rather loud ambient noise of the bustling city made for a perfect excuse, and they didn’t pick the conversation back up until they rounded the last corner, Octavia’s house coming into view. Her house wasn’t anywhere near Vinyl’s, but she would always walk her home before going on her own way. “I don’t need you to walk me home, Vinyl.” That, however, never stopped her from complaining about it. “And you don’t have to thank me for it.” She fired back. “Never have.” “Never will.” As Octavia departed to cover the last stretch to her house, Vinyl couldn’t help but stand and watch her go. They had been friends for as long as she could remember, and this playful banter had existed between them for just as many years. Sometimes, just sometimes, she wondered where the line between that playful banter and flirting existed. There was a part of her that wanted to ask, and if it was any other pony, she certainly would have. But it was different with Octavia. Vinyl couldn’t be herself around her. It was as if Octavia’s very essence emitted a silent melody that seized the very soul of those who stood too close to her and pulled it into a duet to her own tune. Almost as if Octavia knew exactly what she was thinking, she threw a hoof over her shoulder without turning to look, waving farewell to Vinyl who was certain she had never known that she lingered. Vinyl smiled, and turned to head home, shrugging off the nagging emotions. She wasn’t before, now, or likely to ever be ready to threaten their friendship over such a silly notion. Besides, there was an exam to worry about for now. The sun was beginning to dance along the horizon before Vinyl had crossed town to get home, the purple overture taking flight through the still air as it spun patterns in the brilliant orange skyline. It was Luna’s opening chorus, and Vinyl’s favorite time of the day because of it. She walked slowly into her empty home, opening the windows to allow the melody to permeate the structure, and moved swiftly onto her bedroom. She took one longing glance at her bed before turning to the two instruments seated side by side. They both needed to be picked up, practiced, learned, and mastered. But only one gripped onto a lingering requirement, a sickening demand to be played. It was for that reason alone she shunned the long and slender device, and yearned to pick up the other instead. Indecision seized the moment, locking Vinyl down where she stood. Luna’s symphony was reaching a crescendo as nightfall almost fully encompassed the horizons. Vinyl took the opportunity to sit down and close her eyes, absorbing the tune while she let her mind drift freely away from the present. It first swam to her school, to the worry and frustration that the upcoming exams were bringing, moving fluidly onto lunch, the first time she would see Octavia tomorrow. Unwilling to linger on what ailed her the most, her mind flitted to weather, the sweltering heat, how little she was looking forward to it tomorrow, how much she wanted rain, and how Octavia would someday control it. Her mind took flight once more, traveling to Luna this time, hoping to soar above and beyond the lingering thoughts that kept invading her mind. It was a goal in her life to someday meet Luna. There was much she owed her, and thanking her face to face seemed only appropriate. Perhaps she would get a chance to play for her under the pale moonlight, just as she hoped to someday play her song for Octavia. In all of Vinyl’s life, music had existed as a separate entity, nothing more than a tool to mold and shape the world around them. Every instrument had a purpose, and behind every purpose was a pony composing the symphony to achieve that purpose. While it was vastly superior to listening to a blacksmiths hammer or carpenters drill, it was basically the same. Octavia was the exception to the rule, the needle in the haystack. Vinyl could no sooner describe her as a musician than she could describe a rock as a feather. When she lifted her bow to the strings, there was no longer a master and a machine, but an orchestra of gestures that resonated beauty and eloquence in every note. The symphony of light and sound that birthed from her took on a life of its own, breaking free from the confines of the score to play a harmonious duet, elevating the song into timeless perfection. It was matched only by the elegance of its creator, the grey haired core underneath the countless layers of color. Feminine legs, both agile and graceful, led up into the gentle slopes of a body, its texture smoother than the finest silk. A tail, so black that night itself could exist inside of it, stretched beyond her back, not a single errant strand of hair daring to escape the flawless structure. Complimenting it was an equally dark mane, leading up into a face that spun her sophisticated demeanor within every alluring curve. They housed amethyst eyes that burned brightly behind their lenses, concealing an ocean of knowledge that threatened to capture those unfortunate enough to gaze into them too long. Residing along each flank, coated in a brilliant magenta hue, sat a simple clef. It was traced with such precision that neither a strand of grey hair or the gentle sway of her legs as she walked could tarnish its form. To lesser minds, it was simply a figure that indicated the pitch of the written notes. But to Vinyl, it meant so much more. It was the beginning, it was the control, it was the clef that every staff was built upon. It meant that Octavia didn’t just understand the music she played, she was the music she played. Vinyl opened her eyes slowly, realizing just how lost in thought she had become. The night was pitch black outside, Luna’s melody was well into it’s third or fourth song, and the chilly night air was seeping through the windows. She sighed a mournful timbre, reaching out to grab her guitar. Their was only one song that was strong enough to fight through the intoxicating cloud that Octavia blanketed across her mind. Octavia’s song. Created by Vinyl with the intention of one day playing it for her. But she couldn’t allow that to ever happen. Octavia would be able to use it to see straight through her, and it would betray the secret she kept. So she played it alone, closing her eyes and filling the room with the vivid cyan and azure streaks of color. The song pushed Luna’s from the room, sealing the windows to envelope Vinyl in layer upon layer of forlorn melodies. They danced slowly, moved cautiously, and embraced the mare sympathetically, bringing warmth and comfort as they soothed her mind and body and lulled her to sleep. --------------------- “Well that’s all very touching, Vinyl.” Time had afforded the bitterness to creep back into Octavia’s voice, igniting a purple chord along the frog of her bow. “But your five minutes are up.” “Wait, Octavia. I’m not done.” Vinyl had been slowly walking across the expanse, and she was now close enough that the wind didn’t need to carry her voice to be heard. Octavia conjured a final remark, her lips moving to form the words, her throat refusing to let them go. Vinyl knew her far too well. Anger pleaded with her to let it go, begged her to forfeit the knowledge and complete the task her mind had set itself too when she climbed onto this field. Curiosity, on the other hand, demanded more time. The calming tune of sincerity had been apparent enough in Vinyls voice to make for a very convincing argument, much to her chagrin. “Fine.” The purple chord faded grudgingly, unleashing a harsh dissonance back at its master. “But this better be going somewhere.” --------------------- Four days passed by uneventfully. Vinyl continued to neglect the flute, continued to spend most of her afternoons with Cheerilee in fruitless endeavors, the heat continued to sear the landscape, and Octavia continued to chide her about the upcoming exam. It was in three days now, and the possibility of passing it was a dwindling notion at best. Vinyl was doing her best to ignore the issue. As another aggravating session with Cheerilee came to a close, Vinyl stepped outside the classroom to meet Octavia in her usual place. “Still here, huh?” “Would I be anywhere else?” Octavia smiled, standing to grab her violin. Vinyl beat her too it, grasping the instrument with her magic and securing it softly along her back. “Some pony as important as you surely has other things to be doing than listening to a guide on how to not play the flute.” “Perhaps, but my priorities are my own, are they not?” She tilted her head with the question, flashing a grin as she turned and headed towards the door. “Well... err.. yes?” Vinyl was, quite unexpectedly, caught completely off guard. “I’m glad you agree.” She didn’t bother to turn around to see the confused face Vinyl was making. She probably already knew anyway. “Right... well... anyways...” Vinyl had to break into a brief trot to catch up to her. “How has your day been? I didn’t see you at lunch.” “I had some things to take care of today so I would be free this afternoon.” She replied offhandedly. “Some things?” Vinyl questioned. “Mhmm. Some things.” They were walking slower than normal, the double doors to the exit still out of reach. “That’s awfully cryptic, Octavia, even for you.” “I’m not without my secrets, you of all ponies should know that Vinyl.” “Fair enough.” Past experience taught her that such exchanges were best left alone. She never won them anyway. They exited the school into a dim light, the sun long since hidden by thick grey clouds that hung ominously over the sky. It was accompanied by a crisp breeze that raced through the streets in powerful gusts, taking rest only long enough to rebuild its strength for another run. “Looks like you were right again.” Vinyl turned her crimson eyes upwards, trading her sunglasses for an umbrella. Rain was, just as predicted, on the way. “A smidgen late.” Octavia corrected her. “It should have started already.” “Well thanks to you, I came prepared.” She tapped her umbrella on the ground triumphantly. “So no matter when it comes, we’ll be ready.” “Have you been practicing your flute?” Octavia turned the conversation onto the one subject Vinyl was trying to avoid. “Of course I have. I need to pass don’t I?” She lied. The only times she touched the instrument was in class. “Indeed.” She nodded. “I would really hate for you to fail them.” “Speaking of which, Cheerilee was very vague when it came to what would happen in the event that I did fail. I’m curious now, honestly.” “Well, I suppose you’ll just be held back a year.” “Oh, she made it sound like I would roasted over an open fire or something.” “May as well be, for being held back. I wouldn’t hardly get a chance to see you much anymore if that happened.” Octavia turned her head to give Vinyl a slightly raised eyebrow and a threatening smirk. “Well we certainly wouldn’t want that.” Her tone remained playful, even if her insides churned at the notion. A deafening thunder ripped across the horizon, a gracious warning that the rain would be coming very soon. Vinyl grimaced, popping open her umbrella in a burst of magic and suspended it over Octavia. “Looks like we need to pick up the pace a little.” Octavia took one look at the sky, and shook her head. “This is going to be a deluge. We should probably seek cover until it’s over, or you’ll be a sopping mess.” “Oh I’ll be fine. So long as you and your Violin stay dry, its warm enough that the rain can’t hurt me.” They had turned onto an empty street, presumably cleared as ponies were more inclined to take Octavia’s side. “Why do you always have to be so difficult, Vinyl?” “To pester you, of course.” “Well as much as I appreciate the effort, I really think we should...” A chord lurched into the air behind them, careening with a deadly tempo through the empty street. Vinyl immediately recognized the harsh timbre and powerful pitch of the electronic melody, her horn bursting into a white aura as she dropped the bags she carried. “Move!” She yelled, bringing a hoof sweeping around into the gale breeze as she spun to face the music. The wind had granted its gusty muse at precisely the right moment, and the pair created a rapid whistling tune, giving flight to a weak but still visible blue aura. The hasty barrier went up seconds before the attack shattered it, a red hue breaching the wall with a victorious crescendo as it collided with the pair. Both were knocked down, driven into the dirt and pushed harshly away. But the shield had done its job, absorbing the blunt of the attack to strip the melody of its fatal pitch, permitting Vinyl to recover swiftly. Octavia, however, had been caught completely off guard, unable to recognize the unusual melody or react to it as fast as Vinyl, and she was now laying motionless on the ground next to the unsteady but still standing Vinyl.