My Little Investigations: The Silent Dirge

by Metool Bard


Ear-witness Testimony

April 10, 10:47 AM
Lincolt Center
Convention Floor
***

Once again, the festival was just as lively as ever. It's just as Sapphire Shores said last night. The festival itself is running smoothly, but the main events are being ruined by the killer. I'm still not entirely sure why that is, but I figure part of it has to do with Slick Licks not bending to the whims of a mad terrorist. Yes, I do indeed think this qualifies as terrorism even though I don't know the killer's goals. Really, there's no other way to describe it at this point.

"Hey, Tavia."

The first pony we met on the convention floor was Fiddlesticks. Although she didn't look quite as scared anymore, she still appeared to be rather depressed. I don't think that's a good sign.

"Hey, Fiddle," said Vinyl. "Why the long face?"

Fiddlesticks sighed. "Ah, couldn't get into the theater to investigate," she said, lowering her hat over her eyes. "That Mike Check guy said it was off-limits. Ah tried to tell 'im 'bout everythin', but he said he couldn't let just anyone in there."

"Oh, right. Bugger," I sighed. "I, should've told you about that, Fiddle. Mike Check is running a tight operation in there. Heck, I only got access because of Vinyl. Sorry, it just slipped my mind."

"It ain't yer fault," said Fiddlesticks. "'Sides, it gives me more time to practice."

"Speaking of which, how's Pitch Perfect?" I asked.

"Uneasy," said Fiddlesticks glumly. "She's kinda trapped in a no-win situation here. Her special talent ain't sumthin' she can jus' turn off, know what Ah mean?"

Well, that's a bit of a double-edged sword. On the one hoof, it means that Pitch won't be caught off-guard if the killer strikes during the performance. On the other hoof, well, it just paints a bigger bull's eye on her back. As such, I'm not sure if this works in our favor or not.

"So, what about you two?" inquired Fiddlesticks. "Find anythin' interestin'?"

"Like you wouldn't believe," said Vinyl. "Let's get the big one out of the way first. Lyra's back."

Fiddlesticks jumped. "Wh-what?!"

"Our reactions exactly," I said. "We don't know how or why, but she's outside right now with Bon-Bon. Pan apparently had something to do with it, but that's about all we know."

Fiddlesticks paused for a moment to let this sink in. "Well, that's a pleasant surprise," she said. "Did she mention anythin' 'bout how she went missin'?"

"Yeah, I don't think she's in the mood for talking right now," said Vinyl, rubbing the back of her head sheepishly. "She did promise she'd explain everything, so take that as you will."

"Right," said Fiddlesticks. "What about Symphony? Did ya get a chance to talk to her?"

"Yes," I said.

"What did she say about her violin?"

"Nopony else touched it besides her."

Fiddlesticks sighed. "Figures. That rules out somepony tampering with it before she went on. Now Ah have no idea how that string broke."

"There is one way to find out," I said. "But I'll need to talk to Pitch."

Fiddlesticks's brow furrowed. "That ain't gonna be easy, Tavia. Kazooie's not lettin' her talk to anypony except for those he trusts."

"And, he doesn't trust me."

"Well, that's jus' the thing. Ah don't know if he does or not," said Fiddlesticks. "He knows you're mah sister, but as you saw, city folk rub him the wrong way. Ah asked him about it, but he didn't exactly give me a clear response. He's so hard to read sometimes."

Just like Frederick. No wonder Fiddlesticks said the two of them would get along swimmingly. I sighed.

"Well, we don't have many other options at this point," I said with a shrug. "I'll just have to take a gamble."

"Tavi, I think this whole investigation has been a gamble," said Vinyl.

"Ugh, don't remind me," I groaned, rubbing the bridge of my nose with my hoof. "Anyway, the least we can do is try."

"Fair 'nuff," said Fiddlesticks with a shrug. "Although Vinyl might wanna stay outta this one."

"Yeah, I gotcha," said Vinyl with a nod. "I'll go give Slick the good news about Lyra. Seeya later, Tavi."

She gave me a wave and walked off. It's nice to see that she understands the gravity of the situation. If things were different, she'd probably tag along just to get some cheap laughs out of the whole exchange. We really couldn't afford that.

"Kazooie an' Pitch are over at the performance studios," said Fiddlesticks. "C'mon, this way."

With that, she dashed off, and I followed quickly at her heels.

***
April 10, 10:55 AM
Lincolt Center
Performance Studio B
***

"I told ya, this studio's occupi— oh, it's you."

It was just as Fiddlesticks described. Kazooie had a very stern look on his face, as if he were a Royal Guard looking over the castle grounds for any sign of trouble. Pitch Perfect's face was clouded with worry, but she was otherwise handling herself alright, I suppose. She's certainly doing a better job than I did when I first became privy to this whole ordeal.

"Hey, Kazooie," said Fiddlesticks. "Listen, Tavia wants to ask Pitch a few questions about last night."

Kazooie knitted his brow. "I don't think she wants to talk about that."

"I realize it'll be difficult for her," I said. "But, it's important. I'm trying to figure out who's behind all this so that I can stop them."

Kazooie snorted. "I admire your guts, Ms. Octavia, but do ya really think you can pull it off?"

"I have to try," I said. That was really the best answer I could've given, considering my situation.

Kazooie smirked. "Alright, but don't push her too hard."

"I understand," I said, walking over to Pitch. When she didn't acknowledge me, I cleared my throat. She looked up, and then cast her eyes downward again.

"It's tough, bein' told not to do what you were born to do," she muttered. "It's like bein' told not to breathe."

"Believe me, I truly sympathize," I said. "That's why I need your help."

Pitch sighed. "I'll do what I can, but it ain't much. I'm gonna be attacked anyway, so there's no point in tryin' to get on this bastard's good side."

How exactly does a musician go about getting on the good side of a madman trying to destroy music? Well, whatever the case, it seems Pitch knows that the death threat is real now. That was going to make things a least a bit easier.

"Well, I just want to know this," I said. "Last night, at Symphony's concert, you said you heard something right before the violin string broke. Then, I saw your ears twitch again right before the sandbag dropped."

"Yep, that's basically the whole thing in a nutshell," said Pitch. "What do ya wanna know about that?"

"What exactly were those sounds?"

Pitch closed her eyes and rubbed her chin with her hoof. "Hmm. Well, lessee here... It was, kinda like a tuning fork, but it wasn't."

I blinked. "I'm sorry, I don't know what you mean."

"Truth be told, neither do I," said Pitch with a shrug. "It's kinda hard to describe. I mean, it sounded like somethin' that would come outta a tuning fork, but there was somethin', wrong. I dunno if it was a semitone higher or lower or what; it was jus' wrong."

"Well, what about when the sandbag dropped?"

"It was the same sound."

"Do you think you'd know it if you heard it again?"

"Without a doubt."

"So, all we gotta do is find whatever made that sound," mused Fiddlesticks.

I think we have a better chance finding a needle in a haystack. Pitch's clues were very vague. I can't even begin to picture what could've made that wonky tuning fork sound she heard. Well, besides a wonky tuning fork, but I don't think that has the ability to break violin strings or suspension cords. Ugh, I wonder how real detectives get through their cases without getting frustrated.

"That's about all I can tell ya, Ms. Octavia," said Pitch, flattening her ears. "Sorry if I wasn't of much help."

"N-no, it's fine," I said. "The important thing is that we're not going to rest until this maniac is brought to justice."

Kazooie chuckled. "Y'know what, Ms. Octavia? You're alright. I wish more city folk were like you an' that Frederick fellow. Neither of ya give up."

"Th-thank you, Mr. Kazooie," I said, blushing a little. "Well, I'll just leave you to your..."

"Come back here, ya shtupid shadow! Come here and get what'sh coming to ya!"

Oh, no. No, it can't be. Has it really gotten to that point?

"What's all the ruckus about?" Fiddlesticks pondered aloud as she opened the door. When she did so, a shadow darted past her, followed by none other than Silenus. Before anypony could respond to this, Pan ran in and nearly blindsided Fiddlesticks.

"Whoops! Sorry aaabout thaaat," said Pan breathlessly. "H-haaave any of you seen Silenus? Thaaat blaaasted donkey's gone craaazy."

"Uh, he went thataway," said Fiddlesticks, pointing Pan in the right direction.

"Great, thaaanks," said Pan with a bow. He then raised his panpipes to his lips and played a short tune. When the tune was completed, he took off, running faster than the wind itself.

"Wh-whoa nelly!" exclaimed Fiddlesticks. "D-did ya see that, Tavia?!"

I did. And I was able to make a connection to what Sapphire Shores talked about last night. Well, it appears Pan's Music Code is real after all. So, yeah. That's a thing.

"I ain't no detective, but I reckon you two should check this out," said Kazooie. "Maybe that drunkard has caught the killer."

Except that I know that's not the case. Silenus was suspicious of Mare-Do-Well; the pony who was protecting us. Of course, he had no way of knowing that, but still, there's no telling what will happen if he somehow does manage to catch her.

"I do believe you're right," I said. "Come along, Fiddlesticks. We should find out what this is all about."

"Um, alright," said Fiddlesticks with a shrug. "Ah jus' hope this doesn't end up being a waste of time."

"You and me both, Fiddle," I said as we took off. "You and me both."

***
April 10, 11:23 AM
Lincolt Center
Performance Studio D
***

The chase was long and rather arduous. Silenus was chasing Mare-Do-Well all over the bloody building! And no matter how fast Fiddlesticks and I ran, we were always ten steps behind. Then again, I'm not really the most athletic pony in the world, so that doesn't really come as a surprise to me. What does come as a surprise is that Silenus is somehow running faster than us while intoxicated. I'm not an expert on alcoholic spirits and libations, but I'm pretty sure they have an opposite effect on the body.

After a while, we finally caught up with Silenus and Mare-Do-Well in Performance Studio D. Silenus appeared to have Mare-Do-Well cornered.

"Thish ish the end of the line for you!" slurred Silenus. "Now I'm gonna getcha for, uh, doing all thoshe thingsh! L-like the attack yeshterday! And kidnapping that shweet lyrisht! And shpying on ush!"

"You're only one for three, and that last one isn't intentional," said Mare-Do-Well firmly. "I'm not your enemy here."

"Oh yeah?! W-well, I shaw you deshtroying evidence!"

"I was collecting evidence."

"Liar!"

With that, Silenus reared up on his hind legs and adopted some sort of bizarre fighting stance. Mare-Do-Well sighed.

"You, really don't want to do this," she said.

"I think I do," Silenus retorted.

Mare-Do-Well shrugged. "Very well, have it your way."

Her motions a blur, she dashed forward and threw a punch at Silenus. Silenus swerved out of the way and countered with a punch of his own. The two then proceeded to exchange blows, going back and forth. Part of me wanted to try and break it up, but I wasn't sure what Silenus would do if I intervened. It was actually much like a train wreck: I couldn't stare, but I just couldn't look away, either.

Suddenly, one of Silenus's blows caused Mare-Do-Well to drop something out of her cape. It landed on the ground with a loud clang. That clang was in turn followed by an odd sound. I'm not exactly sure how to describe it. It's similar to a tuning fork, but there's something, off about it. I can't quite put my hoof on it, but...

Wait a tick. Th-that's how Pitch Perfect described the sound she heard last night! So that means...

"Ha! Now I gotcha! Let'sh shee how tough you are without your fanchy toysh!"

My epiphany was interrupted by Silenus, who was towering over the object Mare-Do-Well dropped and daring her to try and pick it up. Mare-Do-Well tilted her head.

"You really believe that's mine?" she inquired.

"Don't play gamesh with me, shadow! I-I know your tricksh!" barked Silenus. "And I'm gonna p-put a shtop to thish madnessh!"

"Right," said Mare-Do-Well, seemingly unimpressed. "Well, if you're quite done, I'd like to leave now. Keep that thing if you wish; I'll probably just come around and pick it up later."

"Oh, no you don't!" proclaimed Silenus. "The only way out of thish room ish through me!"

Mare-Do-Well sighed and shook her head. "You know, I was trying not to hurt you, and I still don't wish to. But if you want to do this the hard way, I shall oblige."

With that, she tossed up her cape, revealing a pair of wings. She then shot into the air and flew by Silenus, elbowing him in the back of the head as she passed. While he was off-kilter, she soared over my head and flew away. Just as she did so, Pan arrived.

"Silenus, whaaat the heck are you doing?" he scolded. "I haaad to chase you all around the building!"

"Wh-where'd it go?" Silenus said in a dazed tone. "Wh-where'd the shadow go? I-I had it cornered."

Pan sighed. "Really, Silenus. That shaaadow is just one of your drunken hallucinations."

"N-no, it'sh real!" Silenus insisted. "Thoshe two, they shaw it!"

He pointed at me and Fiddlesticks as he said that, putting us both on the spot. Before we could say anything, Pan interrupted.

"Silenus, don't go roping other ponies into your delusions. You know beeetter than thaaat," he admonished. "Now come along and let's get you sooober. And not another word about that blaaasted shaaadow!"

Dejected, Silenus hung his head and followed Pan out of the room.

"Well, that happened," said Fiddlesticks. "Was that the Mare-Do-Well gal y'all were talkin' about?"

"Yes," I said. "And despite what Silenus says, she's not here to hurt us."

"Mmm," said Fiddlesticks. "What's that thing she dropped?"

That was a good question. I walked over to the object and observed it carefully. It appeared to be a large tuning fork about as long as my cello bow. Was this the weapon used to attack Symphony last night? How did it even work?

"Think we should show this to somepony?" asked Fiddlesticks.

"I believe that would be a correct course of action," I said, cautiously picking up the odd implement and placing it in my cello case. "And I think I know just who to go to."

"Really? Who's that?"

"Follow me."

With that, we headed over to the theater. We would've gone faster had Silenus not tired us out with all that running. That was nothing short of insane, and considering everything else going on, that's saying something. Although if Pan was using his magic to move faster, how did Silenus give him the slip?

Eh, no use thinking about that now. I'll probably ask Pan later. Right now, I need to figure out exactly what happened last night. I'm not sure how it'll fit together with everything else, but then again, I don't exactly have all the pieces of the puzzle yet. I just hope I get this all sorted out before it's too late...