There was applause from the Empire’s citizens when the last note was drawn out. Already, there were shouts of "Bravo," "Wonderful," "Brilliant," and so on, along with the stomping of hooves.
“That was very good,” Professor Key commented, turning to the colt that seemed to be awestruck. “Did you happen to see anything?”
“I’ve never seen anything like it,” Inverno told him, “I saw candlelights in a massive dark room, and they were all dancing in a void. They were of different sizes; some of them were tall while others were tiny. But each of them dances brightly like Luna’s stars, and even though they dance in their own way, it somehow looked as if they were moving as one.”
When the applause died down, the conductor went up to the megaphone once more, “Thank you! By the look of things, we’re off to a good start, no?” The Crystal audience agreed, “So, let’s keep moving on with our next two pieces in the evolution of music. The next one is you’ll be hearing is from W. A. Moztrot’s first movement of his Fortieth Symphony, which was written almost a hundred years after the piece Buch had written from the music you’ve just heard. So without any further introductions, let us continue this lovely concert.”
Quarter Note returned to his place as the orchestra finished setting up their next piece. The conductor paused until all the musicians were set and ready. Picking up his stick, the orchestra began to play.
“Out of curiosity,” Key whispered, “What do you see?”
“Well…” Inverno started, “I see ponies, the ones who have wings.”
“Pegasi?”
“I think so; they’re flying through the air over snow-capped mountains. There’s a dozen of them. All are packed and ready to go somewhere, trying to keep up with everyone else. They’re flying over and above clouds.
“Now, I see the foals... They don’t have anything on their backs, but they’re flying with the adults. There’s one towards the back, and he looks very tired.”
The colt paused for a moment as the music continued to play.
“He’s falling!” the colt gasped, “Somepony catch him!”
“Shh!” one of the audience members turned to the colt.
“What’s happening now?” The Professor whispered.
“There’s a mare, she noticed that the colt’s falling. She’s diving down… come on… she caught him. Phew,... but it looks like they’ve fallen a long way down, and the other pegasi aren’t noticing. Now, she puts the colt on her back and flying towards them. But there are mountains in the way; I think she’s trying to fly between them.”
The more the aged Earth pony listened, the bigger the adventure Inverno told. He told him of the Mother’s struggle to get back to the sky. Flying over jagged peaks and though freezing waterfalls. At one point, the Mother was lost in the thick forest of pine trees. He spoke of thick fogs that covered the sky in a thick gray. Eventually, the Mother got frustrated that she tries clawing her way out through the thick clouds above. She popped her head out, finally seeing the craven of pegasi, but they’re at a distance. Now, weary but determined, the mare flew as fast as she could until she was able to catch up with them.
When the music was over, Inverno shook his head, blinking at the crowd stomping their hooves in approval.
“I like that one,” a mare in front of them commented.
“It’s okay,” the stallion next to her shrugged, “I prefer the one before that. Had a lot of life in it.”
As the conductor approached the megaphone. “For our next piece,” Quarter announced, “was written about twenty years later by the brilliant and very angry, Beethooven. This movement is the final movement of his last symphony, which, believe it or not, had composed the whole thing from beginning to end while being completely deaf.”
This got a reaction from the audience, there were murmurs all around both the Professor and his student. “Are we seriously going to listen to music written by a pony who couldn’t hear?” was a general opinion. Even some of them had started to get up.
“I know what all of you are thinking,” Quarter said, “But trust us when we say that this music, the theme he wrote has become incorporated into Equestria’s anthem after Beethooven’s death. You would n’t think that we wouldn’t adopt it if none of us thought it wasn’t any good, right? All I ask from everypony is to just hear this out, I promise you’ll be getting your money’s worth, as well as your time.”
Skeptical, those who got up returned to their seats. It didn’t take a mind-reader to practically hear what everyone was thinking, “This better be good.”
Sighing in relief, the conductor returned to his place. He overlooked over the orchestra as well as the choir before cueing for the music to play.
_*_
The beginning didn’t have anything interesting. For the first few minutes, the Crystal ponies were starting to get bored. That was until when the cellos, quietly at first, played out a melody that was simple. So simple, one would have thought that it was written by a foal. But when the violas and violins joined in, this modest song became richer, with the brass and percussion turning it into a song of triumph.
All of a sudden, to everypony’s surprise, the choir suddenly stood up as one, and a baritone voice called out in a language that none understood. But as the music played on, the stallion’s deep voice was joined in with the male part of the choir. The lone singer was joined by three other voices, whatever they were saying, the music rang out peace, Rhapsody, relief, and above all; joy.
The singers and the choir were as if they were having a conversation, but even then, the orchestra was the only thing that kept them together.
Then, for a moment, there was a pause before the sound of a march played out, it was here that Professor Key took notice of his student. It was rather a bit of a shock because he saw that there were tears flowing down his cheeks.
“Hey,” he patted him on the back, “You okay?”
Inverno said nothing, but continue to listen as the tenor’s voice seemed to fly freely in the stadium. The choir joined in with the march for a moment before the orchestra took over for a few minutes.
Once again, things went quiet. The music hesitated as if the orchestra were planning something big. Then, all at once, the stadium exploded in the very sound of joy.
“Freude, schöner Götterfunken
Tochter aus Elysium,
Wir betreten feuertrunken,
Himmlische, dein Heiligtum!
Deine Zauber binden wieder
Was die Mode streng geteilt;
Alle Menschen werden Brüder,
Wo dein sanfter Flügel weilt.
Deine Zauber binden wieder
Was die Mode streng geteilt;
Alle Menschen werden Brüder,
Wo dein sanfter Flügel weilt.”
_*_
Inverno sat without saying a word, he had taken off his sunglasses and put his hooves over his eyes while the heavenly music drowned those who were in the stadium. Even when the music, at last, came to a triumphant end, and even when the Crystal ponies roared in applause, Inverno didn’t move.
The Professor was naturally concerned, “Hey, Inverno,” he whispered, “What’s wrong? What did you see?”
Whipping away the tears, he responds, “I saw...” he choked, “...that I was free.”