The silence was only broken by the unearthly rhythm of Half Note's song. No pony nor buffalo spoke a word for a moment, rendered silent either by respect for their Elder or by confusion.
The larger of the two Elders spoke up. "I am Chief Thunderhooves. This is our Shaman, Mourning Dew." He stopped and looked to the side at she to whom he referred. The Shaman nodded and he continued with a snort. "We would not usually share even so much as her title with outsiders, but it appears we have a special case."
Mourning Dew tilted her head and looked at the two ponies who were not caught in some strange trance. Her eyes were old.
"The names dear Braeburn gave us...Those are not yours."
Firelock blinked and pursed her lips. Tornado Bolt was taken aback. "How'd you know that?" Firelock covered her eyes with her hooves.
The old Buffalo chuckled. "You three move and act as old friends, but your names do not. That, and you both called each other by different names just a moment ago."
"Oh. Right."
"I heard one Firelock. I assume that would be you, young Unicorn. It matches your appearance well." Firelock nodded, face still ensconced by her forelegs. "There was a Tornado, that would be you - "
"Tornado Bolt." The Pegasus corrected her. There was a moment of silence. Chief Thunderhooves coughed.
"...Tornado Bolt and Firelock. Good, strong names. They shape you well, little Ponies. Now I ask you to tell me the name of your friend here, she who is lost in the music."
"Her name is Half Note, ma'am." Firelock said as she lowered her hooves. She blinked and added. "I suppose it's kind of funny, her name being a musical reference and now she's picked up some strange Spirit Song..." Tornado Bolt groaned and shook her head.
The Shaman just nodded and walked up to the pink mare, slowly and respectfully. Half Note was still caught in herself, oblivious of what had happened around her. The Buffalo gently laid a hoof on her shoulders, breaking her trance.
"What? Huh? Oh shoot, I was doing it again. Sorry."
Dew sat down on the ground in front of Half Note. Some of the Buffalo in the crowd shifted uneasily, and a few murmurs arose. The Elders calm voice quieted them quickly.
"You have nothing to apologize for, young one. That song was beautiful and precious. Where did you learn it from?"
A pink face turned red and the Pony possessing it rubbed the back of her neck. "Well, I...I didn't. It was just inside my head. I never did do much with music, it wasn't anything that special - "
The Shaman silenced her with a lifted hoof. "You mean to say, then, that this song you sung was not anything that you sought or that was taught to you by an Elder - but that you found it, unguided, within yourself?"
"Ummm...Yeah. Yeah, actually, that feels about right."
The Shaman nodded and hummed a single low note as she stood, a thoughtful noise. She turned to Thunderhooves, bones and stones on her headdress clattering together as she did so.
"We should delay the song tonight. I have other matters to attend to with this young pony."
The chief grumbled and said something in the language the ponies did not understand. The Shaman responded in kind. The exchange was brief, but Thunderhooves nodded resolutely at the end.
"I concede. We will delay until you have done with your work - if you are right, any thing lost by our continued delay will be restored tenfold. But be swift as you may, Mourning Dew, for soon the fading light shall be gone."
The Shaman nodded back and turned again to Half Note. "Young Pony, please come with me. I feel we have much to discuss, and you much to learn." Half Note gulped. "You have nothing to fear, we let no harm come to our guests."
The pink pony nodded and followed, offering a sheepish smile to her friends as she moved towards one of the most ornately painted tents with the ancient Buffalo. Firelock stared with mouth agape, as did many of the Buffalo that formed the crowds. The latter dispersed within a few minutes save for the drummers, though the former remained stuck in the pose for a few more, until one Pegasus prodded her.
"Well, what did they say?"
"How should I know?"
"Well you seemed so shocked I thought maybe you did..."
"No, I don't, but something is strange. I thought she just had a song stuck in her head, but now a private council with a Shaman? Did you miss what Strongheart said about their rituals and whatnot? They're very secretive about them, and now she's...I don't even know what!"
"I think you're overreacting."
Firelock groaned and buried her head in her hooves. "I'm always overreacting. But I'm worried. Can you blame me?"
Tornado Bolt shrugged. "Probably not. You do better thinking than me. But no point worrying unless you can figure out something to do about it."
The Pegasus crossed her hooves behind her head and let herself fall backwards to the ground and stared at the stars. The Unicorn continued to inspect the inside of her own skull until it was tapped. She opened her eyes and saw a young, unfamiliar Buffalo with a small necklace of bone squares. It had a single cube of some glossy, black stone in the middle. The Buffalo bowed.
"Mourning Dew has requested your presence in her tent. I have been sent to bring you."
Tornado Bolt sat up and looked to Firelock, who did the same. The Pegasus shrugged, dusted herself off, and followed the apprentice. Firelock grit her teeth before following.
The tent in question was highly painted with bright blues, reds and yellows that formed shapes of creatures Firelock didn't recognize among some she did, mostly Buffalo and birds. A few feathers and carvings dangling about the entrance made a clattering noise as the flap was pulled aside.
The inside was smoky and dimly lit, few small fires giving a warm but eerie light. Firelock saw that Half Note, sitting on a mat across from the shaman with her eyes closed and legs crossed, had removed the skirt she had worn up till this point. Her flank was still blank as blank could be, and Firelock wanted to run before they got caught. But the young Buffalo who had led them in simply made a nodding gesture to two other mats set on either side, completing the circle.
Firelock then noticed that the Shaman herself was free of all adornments. Relenting in the absence of persecution, she removed the skirt she herself wore and placed it carefully next to Half Notes, and took a seat. There was a small pile of assorted objects in between them all, bones carved and raw, feathers and precious stones. She felt a little dizzy looking at them.
Mourning Dew spoke without opening her eyes, in the strange tongue of the Buffalo. Firelock was feeling more and more uneasy about not understanding what was said around her. The Shaman continued - or repeated, Firelock had no way of knowing - in Equestrian.
"Pony and Buffalo have had similar naming customs for time immemorial. However, there is a key difference: We Buffalo take two names in our lifetimes. One, we are given by our families at the time of our birth, to give us shape. The other we find, later in life, and that name defines us. I brought Half Note in here to find her second name, for she is tied close enough to the Spirits to hear their song without teaching. However, I have found something intriguing.
"Ponies, in lieu of a second name, find a marking. This marking indicates who the pony is, as does our second name. I was surprised to see Half Note unmarked with such a talent. This means she does not know who she is. I can see now you do not either, young Firelock. You are all younger than you appear, and so much older as well."
She hummed and began a small chant as she rearranged the objects in the center. Firelock was so dizzy she was feeling nauseous. There must be something in the smoke.
"I see now why your ties are so strong. I cannot show who you are - there is not a soul who can. But perhaps..." She trailed off. "...Perhaps I can aid you in your quest. It will take time..."
Firelock noticed her eyes were closed. She wondered how long they had been like that. She thought about opening them, but they didn't move. She didn't really want to anyway. The lights inside her eyes were soft and beautiful...
Firelock was back outside, sitting on a bench around a large fire. The drummers were there, and Half Note was among them. She had a small necklace of feathers strung about her neck. Everyone was quiet. Mourning Dew stood with Half Note and the drummers, and was speaking to the young mare. Firelock blinked and shook her head. Chief Thunderhooves was sitting beside her, and she nearly jumped at the realization.
"What...What happened? What's Half Note doing?"
"Mourning Dew found your names for you - except for hers, Firelock Summertouched. Never before we given a Pony a second name, but it was felt that this was an exception worthy of repeating thrice."
Firelock blinked.
"Your friend will sing with us, and you all will run. A Pegasus flying among us is sure to be a good omen, especially one already so firmly tied to the spirits as you are. Half Note...I can only guess."
Firelock rubbed her face, a dull headache filtering in through her sinuses. "I'm sorry, I'm very confused..."
"You three will be joining us in our Stampede to honor the Second and Only Sister, Summertouched. Half Note will lead our drummers in the song, and Mourning Dew shall teach you all what she can." The old Bison sighed. "Our paths align for a time, young Pony. Now be still, and listen to the Song."
The drummers began to beat together. After a moment, Half Note stomped her hooves in time.
The beats began to differentiate and syncopate. Half Note followed seamlessly.
A wordless chant began with one drummer. Another picked it up. Then another, and the other.
Half Note continued to dance, her every motion a note in the song, her mane and tail snapping like the wind.
And then she, too, began to sing.
And the sky sang with them.