Sonata de Equestria

by MyHobby


Second Movement: Part 7- A Melody of Loss and Hope

A Melody of Loss and Hope

Fluttershy felt a heavy weight on her back. She tried to stand, but the pressure was too great. A groan came from behind her and she turned to see the pony that had uttered it. Big Macintosh lay on top of her, apparently just waking up. He blinked dazedly for a few moments before his eyes shot wide open.

“Uh, hello, Miss Fluttershy.”

“Can…” she whispered. “Can you please get off of me?”

He wiggled and lurched, but he stayed firmly on her back. “I think I’m stuck.”

The stallion planted his hooves on the ground and pushed with all his might. “Can you crawl out from under me?”

She did so, her movement quickened by a sudden burst of bashfulness. She took stock of her surroundings; they were in a large cavern, or tunnel. The walls glowed faintly with a luminescent fungus, and the tunnel seemed to travel straight through the mountain.

Big Mac groaned again, and Fluttershy rushed to his side. “Oh, my. Are you alright?”

He nodded. “I think so, but I can’t move.”

Fluttershy looked over his shoulder to see that he was only half-way inside the cave. His rear half had been caught in the avalanche, and he was buried up to his flanks in snow. “I’ll… We’ll get you right out. Angel?” She searched for any sign of the bunny. “Angel, are you okay?”

The thumping of a rabbit’s foot echoed through the cavern, announcing the critter’s arrival. He hopped up onto Macintosh’s back, sniffed at the snow covering him, and then lay down on top of him.

Fluttershy was not amused. “Angel, dear, we have to help him. Help me dig him out of the snow.”

The bunny opened one eye and yawned, continuing to relax on Big Mac’s back.

Angel was roused to full wakefulness as he was covered from head-to-paw in a deluge of powdery white snow. Fluttershy dug her hooves into the avalanche’s debris again and again, getting Big Macintosh looser each time. Soon, he was able to pull himself free, sending the hapless bunny tumbling to the cave floor.

Fluttershy sat down to rest while Big Mac stretched. She tried to speak and found that her mouth had gone dry. She took a bit of the snow and let it melt in her mouth. He thirst quenched, she tried to speak again, but was only able to let out a timid squeak.

Big Mac looked at her with concern. “You feel okay, Miss Fluttershy?”

She coughed lightly into her hoof. “I-I’m cold.”

“I bet.” The apple stallion glanced at the snow covering the entrance. “I’m pretty cold myself.”

Big Macintosh and Fluttershy were quiet for a few moments. The mare kicked at the dirt and fiddled with her Element of Harmony, while the stallion shuffled his hooves. Angel Bunny burst forth from the pile of snow, rage in his cutesy-wootsy rabbit eyes. He leaped onto Fluttershy’s back to dry himself with her mane.

Big Mac cleared his throat and pointed down the tunnel. “We should probably get going.” Fluttershy nodded and followed him.

They spent nearly an hour in silence as they trotted down the path. The fungi’s glow only reached a few feet into the cave, until there was no longer any rotting plant material to feed on. They carried on in darkness through the mountain’s single tunnel, which Fluttershy imagined was actually artificial. The air grew warmer as they walked deeper into the earth, and further away from the snow.

They were near the heart of the mountain when Big Mac spoke up. “So, I guess those stories about windigos are true, huh?”

Fluttershy shivered, though not from cold. “I guess.”

“It’s kinda funny how all my favorite fairytales are comin’ true,” he chuckled. “Next, I’ll find out that hippogriffs are real.”

“A-actually…” Fluttershy mumbled.

Big Mac’s ears perked up in surprise. “What?”

“I know a hippogriff.”

Macintosh’s mouth fell open in a grin. “Really?”

“Yes, I met him back in Cloudsdale,” she replied, looking down. “He was… nice.”

“Eeyup,” Big Mac chuckled. “That one really takes the cake.”

They walked in silence once again. There was no sound but the clop of hooves against stone. Both ponies kept a weathered eye out for anything that might harm them, windigos or otherwise.

A light appeared in the distance: the end of the tunnel. Big Mac stopped and pursed his lips. “M’kay, we’re almost there.”

“Almost where?” Fluttershy asked. She looked around Macintosh’s bulk until she could see the light. “Oh! We’re almost through the mountain!”

“Not just that,” Big Mac clarified. “There’s an old cabin that my folks used to take us to. We can stay there a little while.”

“Okay,” Fluttershy whispered. She followed him out of the cavern and into the snowy outdoors.

Rolling hills adorned the outside of the mountain, and rocky outcroppings rose up everywhere. In the distance, a cozy little cabin sat on top of a hill. It was built from logs and painted white, though the color was faded. A little mail box sat outside of the picket fence, its flag in a perpetual lowered state. From the looks of it, it had remained empty for some time.

Except that smoke was pouring from its chimney.

Fluttershy gasped as Big Macintosh tensed up. “Could the others have arrived before us?” she asked. “Are they waiting for us at the cabin?”

“Eenope,” he replied. “Too far for them to loop back, they’ll move on to Manehatten.” He looked down at her, his mouth a grim line. “We got a stranger in my daddy’s cabin.”

He didn’t trot so much as gallop to the cabin. He rapped on the door with a hefty hoof as he bellowed, “Open up this door, or so help me Glory, I’ll…”

The door opened a good five minutes sooner than Big Mac had anticipated, revealing a very scared, very small-looking, painfully ragged earth pony. He gazed up at Mac’s size with object terror in his eyes. “C-c-c-can I h-h-help you, sir?”

Fluttershy peeked around Big Mac to see the cabin’s current occupant. “Dusty Shelves! You’re safe!”

Macintosh started at this information. “Dusty? Is that you?”

Dusty gulped down the lump in his throat and nodded. “H-h-hello Fluttershy, B-b-big Mac…”

Fluttershy circled around Big Mac to place a hoof on Dusty’s shoulder. “Oh, my… What happened to you?”

“Hold on!” Big Mac’s shout got the other two’s attention immediately. “What in Equestria are you doin’ in my cabin!?”

Dusty shrunk back and blathered, “I-I-I-I-I, I just, I needed a p-p-p-place to-t-to s-s-s-stay, I…”

“Say ‘I’ one more time, traitor!” Big Mac stomped a hoof down in front of Dusty. “We know you were working with Sombra; it’s your fault that Equestria’s gone bad!”

“I di-didn’t know he w-w-was Sombra!” the accused pleaded. “H-he tricked me!”

Big Mac loomed over Dusty like some vast, predatory bird. “You couldn’t tell that maybe the dark, smoky unicorn telling you to do bad things might maybe be a little off-color!?”

“I d-don’t know!” Dusty skittered back into the cabin. “I j-just wanted ju-justice!”

“Justice!?” Macintosh shouted. “What sorta lame-brained version of justice ends with the princesses-”

“Stop!”

Fluttershy placed herself firmly between Big Macintosh and Dusty Shelves, wings spread to hide the tan earth pony. “Look at him, Macintosh. Look.”

Big Mac did look. He saw Dusty cowering on the floor, hooves over head and whimpering almost imperceptibly. “D-don’t hit me, hurt me, hit me, hurt me…

“He’s hurt,” she said. “And he’s scared. I need… We need to help him.” She lowered her wings slightly and stared up at him. “You can’t just kick him out.”

Big Macintosh was about to argue that yes, he could kick him out. He even opened his mouth to do so, inches from allowing the words to spill forth in a verbal assault on the treacherous punching bag before him. But he did not.

He was stopped in his tracks by the sight of Fluttershy crying.

Her blue eyes shimmered with tears, and they dripped down her cheeks like dew off the side of a little red wagon. Her lower lip jutted out slightly, trembling with unuttered sobs. She sniffed with the loudest sound that he had ever heard out of her, aside from her shout just a moment before.

“He needs our help,” she insisted. “Not our anger.”

Big Mac’s face scrunched up as he blew a stubborn sigh out of the side of his mouth. “Fine, but he’d better stay in line.”

He walked past the two ponies into the cabin. “An’ he’d better be ready to explain himself.”


Night fell over the icy mountains of the Equestrian Wilderness. A small campfire burned brightly by the banks of a wide river, providing much-needed warmth in the midst of the freezing summer air. Steve Magnet rested his head on the side of the river, his gentle snores drifting on the breeze. Most of the ponies in the company had retired for the night, gleaning a shred of solace from the sleeping bags and blankets salvaged from the crash.

One pony, however, was not able to find rest. She stood watch, keeping a constant vigil for dangers either natural or mystical. She took a swig from the hot cider in her mug and sighed. She couldn’t help but glance back at the Smokey Mountain occasionally, straining for a glimpse of her brother.

Applejack adjusted her hat so that she could stare up at the night sky. The stars twinkled brightly, a sharp contrast to the mare’s soft frown. She leaned back against a small tree stump, nestled in for the long night.

A shooting star streaked across the sky until it came to rest with a small burst of light. Applejack removed her hat in reverence as she looked up at the newborn star. “Another new star? Why’s there got to be so many of ‘em nowadays?”

Applejack placed the hat back on her head. She hunched over, glancing at the ponies asleep around the campfire. “T’ain’t fair, t’ain’t right,” she mumbled grimly. “Death’s just so… stupid!”

She looked up at the Smokey Mountain again, but it was just as bare as it was minutes before. “C’mon Big Mac, we need you.”

She lay back down against the stump, glaring at the stars. Applejack stared and searched until she caught sight of two particular stars, ones that held a special meaning to her.

“What do you want from me?
What do you want from me?
Tell me this, all you above
Why does loss seem like my destiny?

“With all the stars in the sky
I can’t help wonderin’ why
Why did you take them away?
Why did my family have to die?”

Applejack cast a bashful glance at the campfire. “I hope nopony heard that…”

“Heard what, Applejack?” a voice asked from behind her. Applejack spun around, ready to deck the voice with a solid punch to the nose.

She stopped once she got a look at the voice’s owner. “Pinkie Pie? What are you doin’ awake?”

Pinkie held a hoof up to her lips. “Can’t sleep,” she whispered. “Just like you.”

Applejack harrumphed. “Not like me, I don’t think.”

Pinkie tilted her head and examined the farmer. “Feeling gloomy, huh?”

“You could say that,” Applejack replied. She set her hat low over her eyes to block the pink pony out. “I’m not exactly keen on company, Pinkie.”

Pinkie sat down next to Applejack, a smile playing at the corners of her mouth. “I think I know what you need…”

Applejack sighed. “Now, Pinkie, I don’t-”

“A smile!” Pinkie Pie gave Applejack the biggest, brightest smile she had in her arsenal. “You need to smile to get that grumpiness away!”

“I don’t wanna smile, Pinkie!” The pink mare was taken aback by her friend’s shout. “This ain’t just sommat that can go away with a little old giggle, y’hear!?”

Both mares froze as a whimper rose from Scootaloo. The filly rolled over and went back to sleep. Applejack swallowed hard and turned back to Pinkie. “I can’t smile right now, Pinkie Pie. I just can’t.” She pulled the hat off of her head. “I just… I keep leaving folks behind.”

Pinkie scootched closer as Applejack went on. “We left Ponyville behind, we left Granny Smith behind, we left Big Mac an’ Fluttershy behind…” She sniffled and wiped her nose. “I left them behind.”

“Applejack, it’s alright, you didn’t leave anypony.” Pinkie Pie placed a hoof on Applejack’s shoulder. “Anyone in Ponyville could have come along if they wanted to.”

“That’s besides the point,” Applejack snapped. “I left them. I’m sick an’ tired of all the holes everypony leaves when they go away!”

Pinkie frowned. Slowly, carefully, she put her arms around Applejack’s middle and squeezed. “You were wrong, Applejack.”

Applejack snuffled a bit. “’Bout what?”

Pinkie placed her head on Applejack’s shoulder. “You do need some company.”

They sat there under the starlight for a long time. Pinkie spoke in a hushed whisper. “You know, we’re gonna see them again someday, all of them.”

Applejack looked at the mountain. “Yeah, I know Big Mac’ll catch up sooner or-”

“That’s not what I meant,” Pinkie said as she pointed up to the sky. Applejack followed her hoof and saw the multitude of celestial objects sparkling overhead. “Them, we’ll see them again someday.”

“Yeah,” Applejack murmured. “But only when we become stars ourselves.” She pulled out of Pinkie’s embrace and lay down on the ground. “That’s a long ways off. Or it should be.”

“Silly Applejack,” Pinkie giggled softly. “We’re already stars, under all this flesh and fur.” She poked her friend playfully. “We’re just grounded, temporarily.”

She lay down beside Applejack and nuzzled her. “C’mon, look at the stars; they’re sparkling just for you tonight.”

Applejack blinked away her tears and looked up. The stars twinkled happily overhead. The farmer exhaled softly, not yet ready to give up her gloom.

“All the stars sing along
And though I may be wrong
If I keep quiet and hold on tight
I think I can almost sing along”


Sombra turned the Alicorn Amulet over in his telekinetic grip. He felt no power flowing from it, yet he could see its red glow shining in the near darkness of the night. He groaned in frustration as he clamped it around his neck, the artifact no more useful than a metal trinket to him alone.

There is still nopony I can trust to wield it.

The throne room was quiet, Sombra was the only occupant. The only occupant, save for the lifeless statue mounted on the wall. The Unicorn King glared at the mount, rage birthing inside his mind.

“Look at you sitting up there, with your grin and your self-satisfaction,” Sombra glowered. “When have you ever done anything of consequence?”

“I’m looking at him right now, of course.”

Sombra fumed as he readied a comment to fire back. As he spoke, his words tumbled over themselves as he came to a realization. “You weren’t smiling when I put you up there.”

The mounted head crackled and sparked momentarily, before reverting back to its original state of flesh and blood. At least, what passed for flesh and blood to a draconequus.

Ooooooh, a thousand years can give you such a crick in the neck!” Discord groaned. “To be honest, I feel stiff every time I’m set free.”

“I smashed your statue,” Sombra growled.

“And I laughed at your utter failure to destroy me,” Discord replied. “Really, kingy baby, I’m immortal in every sense of the word!”

Discord tutted at the unicorn. “Cut me, I bleed skittles. Bite me, and my skin bites back. Smash my stone prison and…” The draconequus’ head flashed with a burst of magic…

And remained exactly the same. “And… Huh, where’s my new body?”

Sombra grinned, baring all of his fangs. “Scattered to various rock gardens around Canterlot, old fool. That mount I placed your head on will block you from any sort of regenerative magic.”

He trotted close to the creature of chaos. “You are, now and forever more, my prisoner.”

Discord raised an eyebrow. “Very clever, Sombra. Awfully generous of you to share with the gardens of Equestria.”

He looked off into the middle distance, a nostalgic smile playing at his lips. “Just like your dear old mum, Princess Platinum. So very, very giving.”

Discord winked at Sombra. “And quite the looker, if you don’t mind me saying so.”

“I do mind, you sick freak!” Sombra roared. “I will not let you sully her memory in such a fashion!”

“Calm down, King Meany,” Discord soothed. “It was just a joke. One that I suppose your puny little pony mind could not comprehend.”

He followed up with another wink. “By the by, how’s the little wife and your darling child-to-be?”

“Guards! GUARDS!” Sombra bellowed with rage. “Get in here!”

Two pegasi guards, soldiers that had decided to stay in Canterlot under Sombra’s rule, flew in through the large doors. “Yes, your highness?”

“Runabout, Runamuck,” Sombra growled as he pointed at a giggling Discord. “I want you to take that thing down to the dungeons!”

Runabout glanced up at the mount. “That’s a neat trick.”

“Why thank you,” Discord answered. “I do try to wow the crowds from time to-”

“Enough!” Sombra glared at the pegasi. “Take him down to the dungeons and place him across the hall from Celestia and Luna. Let him be their problem!”

“Oh, come on Sombra,” the draconequus said as he rolled his eyes. “We used to be such good friends, why the sudden change of heart?”

“We were never friends!” Sombra spat. “Not before and not now!”

“Watch the face!” Discord admonished as he was lowered to the ground. “It’s delicate!”

He chuckled as he was carried out the door. “You’re gonna wish we were friends when the Element Bearers come after you,” he grinned. “Those six little ponies are gonna steamroll right over you.”

Sombra sat down hard in his chair, the throne that he had coveted for so long. His roar of anger could be heard throughout the entire castle grounds. It brought a satisfied smile to the face of Discord, even as he was led beneath the surface and into the darkness of the Canterlot Dungeons.