On a frigid mountaintop, the three sirens hovered, gazing at a wind-whipped fortress. A storm was approaching, and the first flakes of snow danced through the air, harbingers of the blizzard that was to come. Aria had a bad feeling about this, but there was no way she could back out now; she’d committed to a course of action, and that was that. She’d contemplated simply giving up her amulet, but turning back was not her way, nor was it feasible. How could she? If she returned to her old life, what could she say to her family that would justify a decade-long disappearance that had left no trace?
Aria had taken the pendant in a moment of weakness. She wanted so badly to be known and recognized for her efforts, and so had resolved to follow any path that might bring her closer to that goal, but over time she’d realized that Adagio’s plan had never been to achieve renown; the endgame had always been revenge. The past ten years had seen the sirens sweep over Equestria like a plague, causing misery and strife wherever they went, and reaping the rewards of their efforts in the form of what seemed like limitless power. They had charged their gems to the point of bursting, and this moment would be the culmination of their efforts…or at least Adagio’s efforts.
“Starswirl!” Adagio roared, her voice a multi-tonal ruckus that rattled the very stone above which they levitated. “Come out, Starswirl, we have unfinished business, you and I!”
The wind howled and the snow grew thicker, but no response came from the lonely fortress. At least, not immediately. After many long minutes, there was a grinding of metal and stone as an iron portcullis slowly lifted, and the great oaken door beyond it creaked open. The figure of a pony moved into the dim, grey light.
“Adagio,” an aged voice – multiplied a thousand times in volume by magic – croaked, “I regret that we must meet again.” The voice belonged to a withered stallion, clad in a cloak of blue, white, and yellow, with an enormous hat upon his head that matched it. Springing from his chin was a great white beard of impressive length that told the tale of a long and solitary life. “Have you come to exact your vengeance?” he asked, and Aria could hear the exhaustion in his voice.
“Yes,” Adagio sneered, “how could you think I wouldn’t?”
“I knew we’d meet again, Adagio,” Starswirl said sadly, his words echoing off the surrounding mountains, “but I dared to hope we might not.”
“Your hope was misplaced,” the golden siren spat. She turned to Aria, and then to Sonata. In wordless accord they summoned their voices, unleashing an impenetrable wave of sound that crashed down upon the mountain’s peak and the crumbling structure that stood upon it. Aria felt a powerful surge of heat as her amulet channeled endless breath into her lungs, breath that joined her companions’ song in a cacophonic harmony. Minutes seemed to tick by before Adagio led them in a decrescendo that reverberated into nothingness.
As the dust cleared, Aria at first thought there was nothing left. The fortress had been utterly decimated, the only trace of it being a few bricks of its foundation that poked through the mounting cover of snow. But as the cloud of ash dissipated, her eyes were met by a golden glow. The pony stood, head bowed as his horn sustained an orb of shielding light around his body. When it was clear that the first assault had ended, he dismissed the barrier, glancing back at the wreckage of the building he’d just emerged from.
“I was fond of that place,” he sighed. “Please, Adagio, let us not do this,” he then begged. “I do not want to fight you.”
“If you are so loath to face me,” the eldest siren hissed, “you should’ve thought about it a hundred years ago.” She inhaled, and Aria felt air rushing into her own lungs in unconscious tandem, before it was released in a second blast of sonic fury. The attack lasted longer than the first, generating a cloud of steam as the surrounding snow was vaporized. Yet, when it cleared, the pony remained, once again ensconced by his bubble of light.
“I am sorry, Adagio,” Starswirl lamented, “I am so terribly sorry. Please don’t make me fight this fight.”
“Do not taunt me with your false remorse!” Adagio shrieked, rattling Aria’s eardrums, “do not desecrate their ashes with your lies!”
A third blast left the sirens’ throats, and when it was done, the pony remained. Starswirl’s shield fell once more, and when he looked up again, his weathered face was contorted with agony.
“I am sorry!” he bellowed, his magically amplified voice rattling the foundations of the earth, “I was young, and I was rash. I maintain that my judgment was true, but the sentence I meted out was cruel, and for that I can never atone.”
“You’re a murderer!” Adagio screamed, her voice alone cracking the surrounding stone.
“Yes,” Starswirl admitted, “but your sisters were evil,” he punctuated the last word by stamping a hoof, shattering the rock beneath it and sending avalanches cascading down the mountains in the distance. “They were irredeemably wicked, Adagio,” he shouted, “You know this! I spared you because you know this. I wish I could go back. I wish I could change what happened, but I cannot! Please, for the love of the gods, stand down. Let us end this cycle of hurt and grieve together.”
“NO!” Adagio screamed, and Aria felt ice in her chest as the magic of her pendant was siphoned off and channeled through the eldest siren in an explosion of pure energy. Static crackled in her ears with the rending of stone. She cried out, and she could feel Sonata’s pain as intensely as her own.
When the dust once again cleared, Starswirl’s protection spell flickered, but it held. He was levitating a few yards above the ground, sparing his hooves from the rocks that were now glowing red with the heat of spellfire. The stallion coughed violently, and the golden orb that surrounded him diminished and then disappeared.
“What’s the matter, Starswirl?” Adagio taunted, “did I drag you out of your deathbed?”
“Actually,” the pony chuckled gruffly but with genuine mirth, “you did.” He drew in a shuddering breath, and was once again surrounded by crackling golden magic. “I have lived far longer than any mortal has the right to. I will depart this world soon, my friend,” he sighed, “but I cannot leave it at your mercy. Please, tell me there can be a truce between us. Tell me you will accept my apology. Tell me you will find it in your heart to forgive me for the sorrow I’ve caused you. Tell me you will not punish ponykind for the mistakes of one overzealous fool.”
“I will tell you none of those things,” Adagio replied, “because I am not a liar.”
“Well,” Starswirl mused with a sad yet determined smile, “then I suppose I have one last fight in me.”
In a burst of blue and gold, Aria was blinded. All around her, she heard the snaps and pops of small explosions, like fireworks. When her vision returned, the sky was on fire as meteors of pure magic streaked down towards her and her sister sirens. Instinctively, she sang out a long, vibrating trill, and two other voices joined it. The sound waves shattered most of the incoming projectiles, but one struck her in the shoulder. Though she felt a searing discomfort spread from the point of impact, she realized that they were not lethal in nature.
She shielded her eyes from a second, cataclysmic explosion of brightness, and when she blinked her vision back into coherence, Starswirl’s frail form was wreathed by a halo of golden light. Sensing Adagio’s imperative, she soared upwards, escaping the reach of the sorcerer’s burning glow. There was a deafening roar, and she felt her body whipped about as though caught in an ocean’s current. All control she had over her own magical faculties vanished, and she felt herself plummeting downwards. It was some kind of stunning spell, and try as she might, she could not regain her flight. Looking around, she could see Adagio and Sonata falling too. The ground rushed ever closer, and despite herself she screamed. It couldn’t end this way. She was young and couldn’t die now. Seconds before her downturned muzzle impacted the snow and the rock beneath, her descent slowed to a halt. A pale glow enveloped her body, and when she looked back, she could see their opponent’s horn blazing brightly. She hit the ground with a grunt when he dropped her and her two companions. They flailed about in the snow, unable to levitate, their forms not at all conducive to moving around unaided by magic. Starswirl lifted himself with his own magic, touching down in front of Adagio.
“Surrender,” he said simply, “and give me your amulet.”
“Never!” Adagio shrieked, gnashing her teeth and dragging herself forward with her two hooves, snapping at the wizard. With tired ease, he pushed her back.
“If you will not stand down,” he told her solemnly, “I will have to ensure that you and your compatriots cannot harm Equestria after I’m gone.”
“Go ahead,” Adagio growled, “turn me to dust as well.”
“I will not.”
“So what will it be then?” The siren demanded, “an eternity in Tartarus? That place cannot hold me, Starswirl; I will escape, even if it takes me a thousand years, and your descendants and all ponykind will suffer for your sins.”
“I do not doubt you,” the stallion said solemnly, “and I would not condemn you to that place. You are not wicked as the other beings that reside there. I would ask you one last time to surrender your magic, but I know the answer.”
“You’ve gone soft,” Adagio mocked, “what happened to fire and brimstone? What happened to you?”
“I learned something about magic,” Starswirl sighed, and Aria could almost swear she saw a wetness in his eyes, “something I wish I had the time to understand.” His horn began to glow once more, and Aria felt her whole world begin to vibrate. “But you have the time, Adagio, and I hope you come to understand it in the ways that I can’t.”
“No matter where you send me,” the siren hissed, “I will find you in the next life, Starswirl.”
“I hope you do,” the stallion said earnestly, “and hope when we meet again, you will forgive me.”
“I will not.”
Aria stared wide-eyed as the very fabric of space seemed to tear open behind the wizard, giving way to a swirling nebula that some innate part of her knew was not of this world, or this dimension.
“You have everything you will need,” Starswirl said, “goodbye, Adagio.”
Aria felt herself being moved by magic once more, staring into the abyss that grew ever closer.
-----
With a defiant groan, Aria opened her eyes. She hated waking up, because not once in her long life had sleep ever left her feeling rested, only bleary and cranky. Her energy level tended to pick up in the afternoon and then snowball at night to the point that she usually didn’t force herself into bed until the wee hours of the morning. This cycle meant that getting up was always a miserable, groggy affair. She stood up and reached for her pants, but then stopped. No, you know what? Today was a no-pants day, Aria decided. One of her housemates was an unwashed drunk, and the other was a kitchen-dwelling imbecile who probably wouldn’t even notice. They did not deserve the effort it took to function in such painfully tight pants. Instead she threw on a loosely-fitting t-shirt and stepped into a colorful pair of bunny slippers – which she maintained were only worn ironically – and shuffled in the general direction of the only thing that mattered at this hour: coffee.
The house was oddly silent, and it took Aria a moment to figure out why; there were no sounds of sizzling griddles or clacking flatware emanating from the kitchen. It was so quiet she could’ve heard a pin drop, and she realized as she entered the living room that even Adagio’s gentle snoring was absent. The couch was indeed unoccupied, though a half-drained bottle of vodka on the nearby coffee table suggested that its usual resident was somewhere close by. It irked Aria that she felt just a little uneasy; this was two departures from routine in one morning, after a half-year period that had known exactly zero. She wondered if Sonata might be practicing her guitar, before realizing that she’d seen the guitar on the floor of her room moments ago.
The electric kettle rattled slightly on its base as the water began to boil, and Aria turned the knob on the coffee grinder, only to hear the obnoxious mechanical whirring that told her it was devoid of any coffee to grind. Sonata didn’t drink coffee and Adagio hadn’t left the house for at least a month, so she realized with dismay that there was absolutely no chance that there might be another bag of beans stashed somewhere in the pantry. This left two options – either tea or instant coffee, and it sure as hell wasn’t going to be tea.
Aria grimaced as she stirred the chalky powder into a mug of hot water. She decided to let temperature sort that mess out, and rummaged around in a cupboard for that unholy bottle of sugary creamer she knew she’d left somewhere that would hopefully make this a bearable experience. It was nowhere to be found, but she did manage to locate a bottle of kahlua, which she regarded with some confliction. Eventually she reasoned that if there was no coffee and she wasn’t wearing pants, then the entire day was clearly fucked and there was no reason she shouldn’t get drunk before noon. A remote corner of her mind cautioned that if she did, there was no way she would make it to the store later to acquire more coffee, that tomorrow morning the downward spiral would continue, and in six months’ time she would be joining Adagio on the couch. However, the opposite distant corner of her mind pointed out that Adagio wasn’t currently on the couch, and so if fate continued to smile on her in this fashion, she might have it to herself. Aria proper then decided that both those corners could blow her and poured out the sludgy mixture of instant coffee, opting to drink straight from the bottle as she searched the freezer for some ice cream.
-----
Hours later, a still-pantsless Aria lay sprawled out in a sun chair on the back porch, ashing a cigarette into an empty bucket of ice cream whilst nursing a bottle of what was now very warm liqueur and wondering just how today had gone so acutely sideways. The sun had reached its zenith and was bothering her eyes, but the idea of actually getting up and grabbing her shades was somewhat self-defeating, because if she could muster the energy to stand, then she wouldn’t want to come back out here at all. Still, the bottle was roughly one-third full and she had a few more smokes, and she figured that was enough to keep her from thinking about anything too depressing for another hour or two.
“Ari?”
Never mind, she groaned internally.
“Aria,” Sonata called, hurrying up to her with obvious anxiety, “I–why aren’t you wearing pants?” the blue girl asked, momentarily forgetting whatever was bothering her.
“Why aren’t you?” Aria queried in return, taking another pull of what she had simply accepted was impending projectile vomit.
“Because I’m…wearing a skirt?”
“Doesn’t do you much good from this angle,” Aria grinned dementedly, and Sonata backed up slightly, realizing just how low to the ground the sun chair was.
“Ari, you have to come,” the younger siren pleaded.
“Move back over here, and I might,” Aria sniggered, only slightly ashamed of herself.
“Adagio’s like, freaking out,” Sonata insisted.
“What did she do to you?” the elder siren demanded, swaying as she sat up suddenly enough to give herself vertigo.
“Nothing,” Sonata said truthfully, “but she’s really upset.”
“Well, what about?”
“She just checked our bank account.”
“And just like that,” Aria drawled, draining the last of the kahlua and lazily tossing the bottle over her shoulder where it shattered somewhere in the distance, “I’m suddenly interested.”
-----
To her credit, Adagio had showered, and her hair had been groomed back to its former glory. She was even wearing makeup. It almost looked as though she’d actually made an effort to drag herself back up to the level of a functional person, but apparently that effort had gone horribly awry; the makeup was running, and it looked like her mind was in a similar state as she paced back and forth across the kitchen in a panic.
“I know I don’t exactly look like a qualified problem-solver,” Aria slurred, slumping down in one of the chairs that encircled the room’s small table, “but what’s going on here?”
Adagio stopped mid-stride and wheeled around to face her, eyes wide with genuine upset. She looked like she was about to shout, but then visibly deflated, letting her shoulders slump.
“We’re broke,” she rasped, licking her lips with anxiety, “we’re completely and utterly destitute.”
“Are we?” Aria wondered with amusement.
“I was counting on that school to be our next big break,” Adagio admitted, eyes darting back and forth as her hands unconsciously clutched at the area around her neck, “but I thought we had more time.”
“Wait,” Aria slurred, “you’re telling me you have nothing saved up?”
“I...I never saw the need for it,” Adagio stammered, her gaze still wild as she leaned rigidly on the counter, “it was always so easy to get more. I have valuables, but it’ll take time to liquidate those…unless we find a source of income soon, we won’t even be able to pay our utilities.”
“You could always…I dunno, get a job?” Aria smirked. The suggestion washed over Adagio in a wave of horror, and her eyes became even wider than they already were, still darting back and forth as though she was physically trying to look for a way out of this situation. It was obvious she couldn’t find one.
“Girls,” she said finally, standing up and taking on the commanding tone she adopted when outlining a plan, “I need you to look for work; just find something, anything – it will only be temporary, I’ll figure something out.”
“Okay, Addy!”
“No.”
“Aria, this is not the time to be obstinate; we need to work as a team here, or we will all be in a very bad way.”
“But,” Aria countered, lazily examining her fingernails, “I’m not the one who’s broke.”
“We are all broke, you imbecile!” Adagio shouted.
“Once again,” the purple girl said matter-of-factly, “no. I would ask you if you understood the concept of a contingency plan, Adagio, but I know you don’t.”
“Do not get rhetorical with me, Aria,” the eldest siren spat, “what are you hiding.”
“Remember all that music I write?” Aria asked sarcastically, tapping her chin, “you know, that stuff you always told me was a waste of time? Well, I’ve had it published, I’ve written on commission, I’ve had it licensed and hey, in the past fifty years I’ve even had stuff in a few TV shows and movies.”
“So you have something to hold us over?” Adagio wondered hopefully.
“No,” Aria corrected, “I have something to hold myself over for roughly…forever. Interest doesn’t seem like much, but over a few centuries…well, it all kinda snowballs,” she finished with a hiccup.
“Are you seriously going to hold out on me?” Adagio demanded incredulously.
“No, no, I didn’t say that,” Aria said nonchalantly, holding up a hand, “I have no problem keeping everything running just like it is…on one condition.”
“Which is?”
“Get a job,” she sneered.
“I’d rather sell the house!” Adagio fumed.
“What’s your asking price?”
“I will not sell it to you!”
“So,” Aria said, raising an eyebrow, “you’re going to upend all of our lives – unnecessarily, I might add – just for the sake of your pride? Some plan, Adagio.”
The eldest siren continued to glare daggers at her usurper, but slowly her eyes drifted over to Sonata. The youngest of the three girls stood anxiously in a corner, head down and arms tucked behind her back, as though trying to shrink away into nothingness while her sister sirens argued.
Adagio spluttered wordlessly, slamming her fists against the counter before she stormed out of the room. Clatter followed her as she stomped through the house and up the stairs, knocking over just about anything within reach, finally ending when the door to her room slammed shut. Aria felt a very self-satisfied smile creep across her features, only to have it quite literally slapped off of her face moments later.
“You’re horrible!” Sonata spat, eyes full of wrathful tears. Her anger rapidly drained when she saw the stunned look on Aria’s face, leaving only disappointment. It looked like she might have something else to say, but no words came, and after a while she turned and left, a quiet breeze in the wake of Adagio’s storm.
Alone once more, Aria reflected that her earlier assessment had been true: this day was very much lost.
-----
Heavy but clear, the chords echoed through the halls of an otherwise silent house. With precision and force, she crashed her fingers against the keys again and again, building the crescendo of another one of her thousands of nameless pieces. She hated both of them, and all of that hate was in her hands, pooling in her fingertips, each note releasing a little bit of it. She wanted to sing it too, but this song had no words; it was an untitled song with no lyrics.
I am Aria
Her right hand climbed and her left descended along the keys, opening the sound up wider and wider and pushing the volume of her instrument to its very limit.
Whatever I become, I will never stop making music
She slammed her foot down on the damper pedal, and suddenly the notes resounded unhindered, filling the empty room with a vast expanse of noise. She wished she was on a stage, in front of a crowd, for in all the years of her turbulent, confusing existence, she’d never played like this.
And that is all…
Aria stopped abruptly as a loud thump caught the periphery of her hearing, followed by an obnoxious scraping. It was coming from the foyer, and she stood, stepping cautiously toward it, not sure what she would find there.
It was Sonata, and she was dragging a suitcase that probably weighed about twice as much as she did toward the door.
“What are you doing?” Aria queried loudly, folding her arms. The other girl looked up in momentary surprise, but then her expression hardened.
“Leaving.”
“For where?”
“Wherever,” Sonata mumbled, scraping the suitcase another few feet.
“Sonata,” Aria said, her brow furrowing, “are you serious?”
“Yes,” the younger siren replied icily, not making eye contact.
“Yeah, right,” Aria scoffed, “c’mon, what’s going on here?”
Sonata dropped her burden and looked up again, but despite her stiff movements, there was no anger in her eyes, only defeat.
“Because I’m done, Ari,” she said simply, “there’s nothing I can do for you.”
“You’re not smart enough to be cryptic, Sonata,” Aria snapped, “what the hell are you doing?”
“I can’t do this anymore, Ari,” Sonata lamented, arms hanging limply at her sides, “I can’t be around you two. It’s eating me up inside.” She sniffled and rubbed the corner of an eye. “Adagio’s lost her way, and I’ve tried so hard to help her find it again, but how can I when I don’t even know what I’m doing? She’s so sad all the time, but I can’t seem to help her, and it makes me hate myself. You’re right, Aria, I’m not smart enough; I don’t know the right words or the right things to do to fix her, and it’s making me feel sick inside.”
“Sonata, come on…”
“And then there’s you,” Sonata continued, tears beginning to flow freely down her cheeks, “I just don’t understand you. Sometimes you’re nice to me, but sometimes you aren’t, and every time I try to talk to you, I never know who or what you’re going to be. You’re so…you’re so angry…you’ve always been angry, and I can’t figure out why.”
“Look,” Aria began, taking a step forward, but Sonata took a step back, “I’m sorry I yelled at you last night…”
“No,” Sonata shook her head, throwing her arms around her own midsection as though she were trying to hug herself, “I don’t care about that. I could handle it, Ari, I could deal with all of this – I’ve been dealing with it for a thousand years – if you’d at least be nice to each other. It used to be bearable, but ever since we lost our magic, you’ve been treating each other like trash. She’s so resentful towards you, and you’re so spiteful, and I can’t make any of it stop, and I’m done with it. I’m done!” she shouted suddenly, stomping her foot, fists balling up in frustration.
“Sonata, you can’t leave.”
“Why not?” Sonata demanded, “I never belonged here in the first place. You guys always wanted power and fame, but all I wanted was to be happy, and I never got to. Do you know what she said to me, Ari? Do you know why I took the amulet?”
Aria paused. Adagio had insisted on speaking to Sonata alone all those years ago, and so she’d never been privy to exactly what had tempted the last siren into this life, nor had she ever given it much thought. She was about to ask what it was, but she didn’t have to.
“She said…” Sonata shivered, sniffling, “she said that if I wore it, that everyone would love me. She said I’d be adored…that we all would. I believed her, because let’s face it, I’m dumb, just like you always tell me.” Her trembling hands covered her eyes, and she whimpered. “But there’s no love here. All I see is hate, and I can’t live like this anymore.”
“Can’t you see why I hate her?!” Aria shouted, her emotional confusion finally coming to a boil, “she tricked us, Sonata! She promised us the things that we wanted, but they were twisted, hollow versions of themselves. Infamy instead of fame. Submission instead of love. And all of it – all of it – was just so she could use us in her little plot for revenge. And now what do we have? Nothing. We have nothing. How can you not hate her like I do?”
“Because it was my choice,” Sonata murmured. “I wanted something, but I didn’t want to earn it, and even after I realized that this was all wrong, I didn’t turn back. You didn’t either.”
“We were manipulated, Sonata. We were used. I can’t just forgive that.”
“I understand, Ari,” Sonata said earnestly, “and that’s why I can’t be around you anymore. You’re never going to forgive her, she’s never going to forgive herself, and I’m never going to change anything. You’re right, it’s…nothing. We have nothing to give each other, and I need to find something else, or I’m going to become as angry as you and Adagio.” There was a long silence, and when nothing broke it, she reached for the door.
“Wait!” Aria yelped, barely of her own volition. Sonata turned back around, and they stared at each other mutely.
“You shouldn’t go,” Aria quavered, desperately trying to quell the shaking that was threatening to overtake her.
“Why?” the other girl asked, clearly unable to fathom the reason.
“Because…” Aria searched for the words, but she couldn’t find them. She had never been good with people; her entire life had always been about her ambition and her art, and yet for some reason, in this moment, she felt like she was about to lose something that was more precious than either.
“Ari…?”
“Because I won’t have anyone to play music with,” she stammered finally, desperately holding onto her stoicism. It was a half-truth, but her façade had begun to crack, and she realized too late that she couldn’t stop it from breaking. She turned away, covering her face with a hand, her posture stiff and tense.
Sonata looked on with awe and confusion as she witnessed something – one of the few things – that she’d never seen in her many years: gently, and with much resistance, Aria began to cry. It was a harsh, unnatural sound, as if she’d never done it before, and it slowly dawned on the younger siren that this might very well be the case.
With trepidation, Sonata took a few steps forward, the alien sound of soft weeping growing ever louder. She cautiously put a hand on Aria’s shoulder, feeling the tremors that ran through her rigid form.
“Ari,” she whispered, “don’t cry.” She meant it, too. The idea of Aria crying threatened to fundamentally alter her perception of the world. She received only a ragged sob in reply. “Can I…do you want a hu–”
Sonata’s question was cut short as she felt a pair of arms wrap around her with such force that they crushed all the air out of her lungs. The vicelike hug was borderline painful, but at the same time it was the nicest thing she’d felt in a very, very long time.
“Please don’t go,” Aria begged, her voice even more rough and raspy than usual, “you’re my best friend.” She felt Sonata jolt in her arms, as if she’d just been slapped.
“Aria,” the blue-haired girl whispered with disbelief, “I…I thought you hated me…”
“So did I,” the elder siren laughed hoarsely, gripping her friend even tighter, “but I don’t. Please don’t go. I promise I’ll try harder.”
“I was only going because I didn’t think you wanted me here,” Sonata said, patting her distraught companion on the back. “If you want me to stay, I’ll stay, but you have to promise me something.” She felt the suffocating embrace loosen, and found herself staring into a pair of bloodshot purple eyes.
“What?” Aria asked suspiciously, a hint of defiance returning to her tone.
“You have to help Adagio,” Sonata said firmly. “I can’t make you forgive her, but if I’m your friend, then you’ll help me get her back on her feet.”
Aria sighed deeply, feeling a flare of anger in her chest, but for the first time in as long as she could remember, she realized it wasn’t worth it.
“Okay.”