The Best Songs Come From the Soul

by Quicksear

3. Digression

The next few days were...trying.

It was surprisingly difficult for me to adjust to my new living space. My new ground floor room was much colder than my old one, being without central heating, and lacking a warm body to share it with. I pushed past that, though: Vinyl and I were through, that much was clear.

Lyra was very supportive despite her distaste for the whole affair, though I think was more due to her own loneliness than any sympathy she felt, for she was still adjusting to life without Bon Bon’s constant presence. Perhaps equally responsible was the blatant rumour running through the town; that I had left Vinyl for Lyra. This was absurd, of course: I would never stoop to such insulting behaviour, and Lyra was far too sweet to ever even think of doing something so callous. Plus, she was still loyal to Bon Bon, despite the distance that divided them. It was adorable to see, actually.

On the third day since my moving in, I awoke early and walked towards the kitchen for my usual glass of orange juice. As I trotted towards the archway, I heard an excited giggle, and the sound of clattering plates. A fluttering in my chest accompanied the memory of how Vinyl used to act every morning in the early days; happiness followed her everywhere, infectious, even when her music had been less popular. Back when we were one.

I forced the memory away and slid into the room to see Lyra excitedly bouncing and gyrating around a levitating piece paper. An envelope lay shredded on the kitchen table. “Good morning Lyra,” I greeted, “What has gotten you in such high spirits?”

Lyra cannoned around to in front of me, where she bounced up and down as she explained: “It’s a letter! From Bon Bon! She’s coming back for a visit! Oh, I’m so happy! I get to see Bonny again before the summer season...!” She continued hopping around the kitchen before her energy spilled over into the living room, leaving me in relative quiet with my glass of orange juice in hoof.

I couldn't help but smile at my friend. She had every right to be ecstatic, even though the visit was only temporary: Bon Bon and Lyra were the closest friends I had ever seen, and maybe even more than that. It wasn't my business to pry into their private lives, though. I should have considered finding a place to stay so that they could have some privacy, but I knew very few ponies in town, and anyway, my thoughts were somewhat preoccupied.

Ponyville was known for its tranquility and peacefulness. Well, in between major catastrophes, that is. Normally, each day is heralded with the silent glory of the rising sun, spent happily in studious labour, and then the cool salve of the night would wash away the weariness of the day. But in these three days, something had interrupted this precious pattern.

Every night had been filled with soundless cacophonies of thumping vibrations that broke the fragile peace of the darkness. Ponies all across town woke up feeling the toneless rhythm, some walking the streets in an attempt to locate the source. Last night, it had been found. Noteworthy had come and knocked on our door to tell us that the epicentre was undoubtedly the cottage I previously shared with Vinyl Scratch.

As if this wasn't disturbing enough, the white unicorn had been seen in the market the evening before. Noteworthy had spoken to a few of the ponies who noted her, and the report was not good. She had been wearing an old black sweater I had left behind when I moved, a tattered thing, and had been particularly dejected. She had not spoken to anypony, and had only bought some fruits and other foodstuffs before posting a letter and returning to the mystery that was now her lonesome life.

As I sat there, thinking about my old friend and her troubles, I began to feel guilty over how I had treated her: It had never been my intention to hurt her to this degree, and I still felt strong feelings for my DJ co-worker despite our falling out. Maybe we couldn't be happy together, but I didn't want her to be miserable now that we were apart.

I flicked my ears as the annoying sound of wood being dragged across the floor reached them. I glanced up and was surprised to see Lyra pulling a chair up to me and sitting down. With a curious angle to her head, she asked, “What’s got you down this morning, Octy?”

“Don’t call me that.” I snapped out before realizing it. I quicly muffled myself and began an apology, “I’m so sorry, Lyra, I don’t-“

“It’s Vinyl, isn’t it?” She said, more a statement than a question. I resisted the urge to deny such a thing, and nodded mutely. After a brief hesitation, she placed a comforting hoof on my shoulder. I flinched from the contact, but allowed it. Lyra awkwardly cleared her throat. “Um...You know what I think about it, Octavia. Vinyl’s a nice pony, but she’s very sensitive. I know you and her are at odds right now, but maybe you should go...talk to her? I’m not trying to be pushy or anything,” She backpedaled from my quick glare, “just...She’s keeping the neighbourhood up at night, and she doesn't usually look so miserable.”

I calmed myself quickly, then took a deep breath and nodded. “I’m sure you’re right, Lyra, maybe I should just check on her. Don’t bother yourself about it, I’ll make sure she’s okay. But you should be happy! Don’t you have a welcome party to plan? Or more dancing to do?"

Lyra beamed at my suggestion, resuming her bouncing immediately. “That’s a great idea! A party for Bon Bon at the train station! I’ll get Pinkie to set up decorations, and Roseluck can get those roses that Bonny loves. I’ve only got two days, I better get on with it! See ya later, Octy!”

She rocketed out into the street, oblivious to my flinch at hearing the old endearment I would probably never hear from Vinyl again.

This ate at me more than I thought it would, and shortly afterwards I found myself outside my old cottage for a second time. I raised a hoof to knock, but I couldn't. I tried to convince myself that it was just nerves, that I would get over it once Vinyl answered the door, But I couldn't do it. Be it shame, or pride, or some other unwanted emotion, I simply let my raised hoof slump against the door as I hung my head and...

What was that?

I looked at my hoof, mentally ordering it to explain the strange sensation. It felt fuzzy, as if my fur was charged with static, and I could feel soft thumps through the thick wood, sometimes dragging on into constant vibrations. I ran my hoof over the door-frame, trying to understand what I was feeling, but no explanation presented itself. I pulled my hoof into the middle of the door, and suddenly felt a shockwave of sound pass over me, pushing me away from the doorway into the middle of the street.

I sat back, gasping. I did not know what had just happened, but the sheer volume of that force must have been audible all the way across town. Yet as I looked around, ponies continued with their everyday lives, oblivious to the immense pain I had just experienced. I shook my head again, trying to clear it. I heard the door creaking, and looked up slowly.

Vinyl looked down at me, her eyes covered by her goggles, her torso wrapped in my sweater, and her face graced with a contorted grin. “Why, hello Neighbour! I am so sorry you got shocked just then. My mute spell doesn't react well when broken, you see...”

I stared at her in confusion. Her voice was painfully cheerful, her grin obviously forced, and the left side of her body conspicuously hidden behind the half opened door. “Vinyl, are you feeling well? You look terrible...”

She ran a hoof through her matted mane and gave a dry, humourless chuckle. “Yeah, thanks Octavia. You aren’t looking too good yourself; you got a little something on your face there.”

I reached up a hoof to my muzzle self-conciously. It came away wet. Looking at it, I noticed a small splash of blood. I quickly leaned over to the window and stared at my face reflected there. I small rivulet of red blood seeped from my nose, an effect of the deafening sound I had been assaulted with. I wiped it away and glared at Vinyl in shock at her callousness.

She simply stared at me. “Don’t worry, I’m great! I have peace and quiet to work on my music whenever I want to, nothing to hold me back. Now, if you’ll excuse me...”

There was something about the way she said that, a certain almost fatalistic acceptance that made me take a closer look at the unicorn. “Vinyl, I think you need to come outside, something is really off about you...”

Vinyl recoiled from my advances, stumbling over herself as she leapt back. “No, I’m fine! Just....I have a song to work on. Don’t knock again, or it might...hurt you.” With that, she slammed the door in my face. A sudden shimmer crossed the door, and I knew that her spell was back in place. I stared at it, trying to process what I had seen in those final seconds before she disappeared: my sweater had been unable to hide the smell of copper in the air and the new bandages upon her left leg.

I snorted painfully, pulling back in anger. Vinyl was throwing herself away over this. She had obviously been drinking and must have hurt herself again. How she managed it was beyond me.

I turned and stormed off back to Lyra’s house, right into my room. I slammed the door shut, and sat on my bed.

I did nothing for the remainder of the day except selfishly wishing that Lyra would come home and talk to me, but when the evening came around and I heard the inquiring greeting from the other side of my door, I yelled for her to leave me alone, that there was nothing to be done. In my angst, I threw myself upon my cold bed and attempted to sleep away my troubles.

They followed me, though: All through the night, I was haunted by the seismic vibrations that echoed soundlessly through the empty streets of Ponyville.