A chilly breeze blew through the streets of Fillydelphia. Most ponies outside were hurrying along, wrapped in coats and jackets, wishing they were inside. Only a brave few were embracing the fall weather. Two ponies sat at an outdoor café table before an otherwise lonely square. One was a bored-looking white unicorn mare with a young face and a mane in striking shades of blue. She wore a heather-grey hoodie with the hood up against the chill. Sitting across from her, nursing a mug, was an older grey earth pony mare. The breeze ruffled the tails of the duster she wore and tugged at her dark grey mane on her uncovered head. Sitting with her back to the café, her sleepily lidded gaze belied her intent monitoring of the square; her upright ears turned every few seconds.
“What a gloomy afternoon,” groused the white mare to her partner as she poked at the few crumbs left on the small plate on the table in front of her. She shivered as a gust blew right through the cotton weave of her hoodie. “Nopony’s going to start something in this.”
The sunlight on their table dimmed and the grey mare glanced at the sky. It was heavily mottled with thick puffy clouds all racing east, with blue sky appearing and disappearing as pegasi rode herd on the disorderly cumulus cattle drive. Unpredictable movement of clouds providing shadowy gloom or bright spotlight as the moment demands? Their perp couldn’t ask for better weather. She spared the rookie a laconic raised eyebrow.
“Why are we here again, Sea Cliff?” sighed the younger mare.
The older mare swept her gaze around the square. The student union of the perp's alma mater, the Fillydelphia Classical Conservatory, had empty tables and chairs spilling out along one side of the square. A sole trio of hardy souls had gathered around one table, exuberant camaraderie keeping away the chill and the solitude of the day. Further around was an instrument shop. Earlier today she had had a quiet conversation with the proprietor, who had mentioned the recent receipt of a valuable zauberflöte, to be picked up shortly by a visiting musician teaching a master class at the conservatory. A small bank tended to the needs of the student body. Why indeed? She looked down at the gently steaming mug of tea with honey that was keeping her hooves and her voice warm, then back to her partner. “Tea,” she replied. The younger rolled her eyes, and the older returned to calmly watching the square.
After another idle minute, the white mare casually put her forehoof up to her ear inside the hoodie. She smiled gently and her head began to bob ever so slightly.
“Vild Note,” the veteran said sharply. The other mare quickly jerked her hoof down. “Need I remind you vhy you are on probation?”
Wild Note looked guiltily at her partner and saw that her gaze had gone from sleepy to dead. Uh oh, she’s pissed, thought Wild Note. She dropped her eyes and looked away, her gaze landing on her own cutie mark: a quarter note with a double jag lightning bolt for the stem. That’s how she liked her music; awesome, just like her cutie mark. None of that boring historical stuff for her. Thumping beats and synthesized sounds were the only thing that could leave her mesmerized. She even mixed a few tracks of her own on the side. It was this narrow affinity that had landed her a spot on the force.
She was thrilled to be a Versebreaker, but the job could get pretty boring. On her last assignment, she had been so bored out of her mind that she had put some tunes on her earbuds to pass the time. Unfortunately, she was so wrapped up in her own music that she had been completely oblivious when the perp showed up. She was so disconnected from the performance that the perp had collided with her, breaking the spell.
Harmony works in mysterious ways, she thought. It was terribly embarrassing, but it had all worked out in the end. The chief hadn’t seen it that way, however, and now she was on probation, a hair’s breadth away from being tossed off the force. Wild Note did not want that. She loved her job. It fit her skills, and she was proud to be one of those who safeguarded the music of Harmony and prevented ponies from twisting it into something unhealthy or malicious.
Now Wild Note was stuck with the old grey mare over there. Her face was careworn, with hints of white around the eyes. She only had two expressions, sleepy and dead. She had a speech impediment or was Germane or something. Her cutie mark looked like someone had taken a double bar line and stomped on it. The old fogies thought she was hot stuff, but Wild Note figured she sure ain’t what she used to be. You didn’t need all those dated old techniques when you could give a perp a caesura by stumping them with a line of unmetric, unrhymable “poetry”. But Wild Note needed the veteran’s approval to get off of probation, so for now she would do things Sea Cliff’s way. If she didn’t die of boredom first.
“Vhat have you learned about our perp?” asked the veteran. She noted a flicker of uncertainty in Wild Note’s eyes before they narrowed in frustration. C Clef gave a mental sigh. It wasn’t just the perp who had a lesson to learn today. She had agreed to take the rookie despite her disciplinary record because C Clef saw potential to be nurtured. Cacophony as a hobby was ... interesting, but not enough. A good Versebreaker needed more tools in her arsenal than just obliviousness. Both the music of Harmony and inattentive novices needed guidance and control.
“Yes, Sea Cliff, I read her file,” Wild Note answered with annoyance. “Light blue mare, pale teal and white mane, often wears a cape. Cutie mark an argent quill, goes by the name Silver Song. Raised a ruckus in some small town; we need to bring her in for counseling. Last seen arriving in Fillydelphia, which is why we are here.”
“And since this morning?”
“When I got off the train this morning, my senior partner said to meet at this café at twelve thirty and then ran off without further word,” said Wild Note with an arch look. “Luckily, a friend of mine has a studio here, so I hung out with her for a few hours to pass the time,” she continued, dropping her gaze idly back to the table.
“You vent off duty?”
Wild Note jerked her head up and glared back at the dead look her partner was giving her. “I didn’t go off duty,” she growled. “I hired a couple runners to spread out, keep an eye out for any performances, and come report to me at a fixed location as soon as they saw anything. I’m not some clock-punching rent-a-’rrupter calming overexcited country bumpkins singing about their first visit to the big city! I was in the top half of my class at the Academy, and I follow procedure.” After a beat she mumbled, “Usually.” She brightened and continued with a smirk, “Bribed some friends of mine with a couple of new tracks I’ve been working on. Gives ’em a resistance boost too.” She sat up. “And for the record, I was here exactly at twelve thirty, just as you asked. You didn’t bother to show up until twenty minutes later, leaving me here poking at muffin crumbs and tapping my hooves. What have you been doing?”
The grey mare did not rise to the bait. “Investigating,” she replied. She took a sip of her tea. “You heard about Ponyville?”
“Ponyville?” said Wild Note, momentarily lost. “Wha—? ... Oh! There was that wild breakout performance there recently, right? I heard ponies there still scream and dive for cover whenever anypony says, ‘Let it go.’ Perp’s an unknown though.”
C Clef nodded. “Hoofington?” she prompted.
“Hmm.” Wild Note scratched her forehead in thought. “I haven’t seen an official report, but scuttlebutt says a typewriter and camping supply store was completely demolished by its own salesponies. Weird thing is, they said they were under the influence of a song, but it didn’t have a single word, only nonsense syllables! I’m not even sure that’s possible,” she frowned. The younger mare’s eyes got wide as she realized what her partner was implying. “Wait, that’s our perp?!”
C Clef nodded again. See? Just needs a guiding hoof. Out loud she said, “She’s no silver tongued shoplifter or glib hay-oil huckster. Runners in headphones have no chance.” C Clef nodded toward the Conservatory. “She has training, and she has talent.” Leaning in, she spoke with quiet intensity. “Sie ist ein Kapellmeister.”
With a low, melancholy sound, a bell in a distant clock tower struck one.
Concern rose in Wild Note’s voice. “Well, then what should we—”
“Hsst!” interrupted the senior mare sharply as she suddenly sat up, ears twitching, eyes wide and alert but looking at nothing.
Wild Note brushed back her hood and listened intently.[►] There was, perhaps, a strange bass rumble, not like any instrument or synthesized sound she was familiar with. Improbably, the bell tolled softly again. The breeze between the buildings became a slow alto choral melody.
“Herzlied,” breathed the grey mare. Wild Note shivered.
A quiet recitative started, and both versebreakers looked around furtively to find the singer without drawing attention to themselves, but to no avail.
I always thought the audience inconsequential.
They’re crass, and unspeakably inane.
But maybe they’ve a glimmer of potential
When guided by my vision and refrain.
A shaft of sunlight suddenly illuminated a pale blue mare on the roof peak of the student union. With a descending line of xylophone and drum accompaniment, in four quick beats she leapt down to a dormer, down to an eve, down to an awning, down to the tabletop surrounded by the stunned music students. She sneered at the frozen ponies and began to sing.
I know that your powers of composition
Are as weak as a tin whistle’s slide.
But dense as you are, if you listen,
My words shall stir something inside.
I learned in your flawed institution
Performers get all the respect.
Denied my deserved approbation,
To both Silver Song’s and Wild Note’s surprise, C Clef called out clearly across the vacant square:
You think stealing the show is correct?
The blue mare glared briefly, but the music continued undiminished, so she gathered two students in her forelegs and, grinning, launched into the next verse.
My studies and my songs were my life line.
I prepared my sensational debut.
No more ignored outright,
Soon first in the spot light.
That’s far enough, thought Wild Note, and she jumped in confidently with an unrhymable word:
And where do we oblige?
Silver Song rejoined tartly:
Your tactic I despise.
The music crescendoed as the blue mare stood on her hind legs on the table with her cape billowing behind.
I’ve practiced. I’ve learned.
Every skill, I have earned.
Does my triumph mean nothing to you?
Just rewards for the gambit I’ve dared.
At the climax, C Clef boldly interjected:
We’re not scared.
Silver Song was caught with her mouth open but no line to sing. Like air being slowly let out of a balloon, she lowered her raised forelegs as C Clef completed her line.
When the verse was over, Silver Song dropped to all fours and leapt off the table. The music of Harmony diminuendoed and modulated. She stalked across the open square toward the versebreakers, scowling viciously. The sky overhead darkened.
Silver Song resumed in recitative:[►]
Don't you disrespect me little mares.
Don't you derogate or deride.
Then, more melodically:
This is my song now, not your song.
And I’ve got Harmony on my side.
Wild Note and C Clef both jumped as the three music students sprung out from behind the blue mare, singing:
She’s got Harmony on her side.
“That’s a chorus, ladies,” flaunted Silver Song. “Just a little parlor trick we songwriters can use. Don’t worry.”
I barely slowed her down, and whatever Sea Cliff’s doing isn’t working either! thought Wild Note as the Silver Song resumed.
Sit down at your table.
Remain quiet please.
If you relax it'll enable me to do
Anything I please.
I won’t play second string,
The A to your E.
Wild Note desperately tried another ploy, attempting to modify the beat:
But you can’t sing when your song has no rhythm,
Rhythm, rhythm, doo-wop de-doo
Rhythm, rhythm, doo-wop de-doo
Silver Song just raised eyebrow. Wild Note’s confidence faltered and her words petered out. “You don’t really think you can capture my meter, do you little filly?” asked the song mistress. Then she launched right back in as if the disruption never occurred:
I’m in full control you see!
I’ve got major, I’ve got minor,
I’ve got modes I ain't even tried!
And I’ve got Harmony on my side!
The three students appeared around and between the versebreakers:
She’s got Harmony on her side.
Wild Note’s eyes dilated in panic and her forehooves scraped futilely on the seat of her chair as she tried to push herself back away from the freaky mare. The touch of C Clef’s hoof to her withers interrupted her hysteria, and she did her best to bolster her courage with the older mare’s calm regard of the singer.
The background accompaniment modulated again. The enraptured students fell back as Silver Song began singing an almost reverent melody:[►♀] [►♂]
The magic of Harmony
Surrounds us all and ties us all.
Together we're much more than when alone.
The music of Harmony
Lets those who have the wherewithal
Accomplish greater deeds than on their own.
A student of Harmony,
Through sweat, tears, and indignity,
Through taunts of those who'll never understand.
Control over Harmony,
Talent and skillful mastery:
The mare who earned the right to sole command.
Song player,
Course layer,
This role I'm born to fill.
Defiant
Naysayer
Shall fall before my will.
Not so, thought C Clef. Time to teach. C Clef leapt to her hooves and stood boldly before the blue mare. Wild Note watched in awe as C Clef sang resolutely while Silver Song helplessly reiterated her chorus:
It is not truth
(Song player)
That might makes right.
(Course layer)
Early misery can never justify your spite.
(Defiant naysayer)
It is not truth
(Song player)
On which you stand.
(Course layer)
There’s greater Harmony in friendship than command.
(Defiant naysayer)
The magic of Harmony
Will ever choose the laudable
Over the contemptible and vile.
As soldier of Harmony,
I’ll stop your course deplorable
And offer friendship without catch or guile.
C Clef looked at Wild Note expectantly. I can feel it, realized Wild Note. Not an interruption but a conclusion. I see where this needs to go! She grabbed the melodic line aggressively with her warm alto, blocking Silver Song before she could retake control and knowing that Sea Cliff would back her up on the antiphony.
Versebreakers,
Rhyme shakers,
We'll foil your symphony.
Yet we are
Peacemakers.
Join us in Harmony!
(Laughter, generosity)
You can use your songs to hurt,
(Friendship and loyalty)
Or you can use your songs for good,
(Kindness and honesty)
And with us join
In Harmony!
The heart song ended with a tremendous climax and a ringing soprano note. The hapless music students fell back in exhaustion and the poor soprano collapsed in a faint. Wild Note panted with exhilaration. Silver Song sat huddled in her cape, looking cowed.
C Clef walked over and placed a gentle hoof on the blue mare’s back. “Come.” Silver Song looked up with trepidation. “Ve’ll help.”
Wild Note came up behind the lost mare and, with a nuzzle, helped her to her hooves. “You do have incredible talent. Once you’ve paid your debts, I’m sure you can find a better way to use your abilities. As Sea Cliff said, we’ll help.” She smiled at her partner with new respect. “She’s a great teacher.”
After attending to the students, C Clef led Silver Song to the train station, with Wild Note following watchfully behind the perp. I think the students have each learned a lesson and are ready for more. Vhat more could a teacher ask for? mused C Clef with a brief smile.