The Spice of Life

by Alun Aleriksson

Wheel in the Sky

Ch. 11 - Wheel in the Sky

The musicians had almost made it to the door when they were stopped by a voice: “Octavia! Syncopation!”

“I never told anypony here my- Coda!” Syncopation interrupted himself as he saw his old friend trotting toward them. “I didn’t know you were invited to this!” Suddenly his expression darkened. “Wait… what do you want?”

“To apologize, first of all. All those years ago… I should have at least stood up for you, and I was too much of a coward to do so. For that, I’m sorry. I… I can’t imagine what you’ve gone through…”

“Save it,” Syncopation said curtly. “I don’t accept pity.”

Coda lowered his head and nodded. “So… swing, eh? To see it resurrected like this… It’s a dream come true, isn’t it?”

“My dream come true,” the pegasus corrected harshly, forcing Coda to retreat. "And not even that: I can't tell what anypony thought of it,"

"I can offer some insight. Actually, it's what I came over here to discuss.” Coda shifted nervously as he tried to find appropriate words. “As soon as you stopped playing, everypony here was trying to digest what they had just heard. Now, I can't speak for the entire group, but most of them seemed to enjoy what you've done here. I think a few of them want to tell you so, too, but I had to get to you first." He turned to his once-prized cellist. "Octavia, I told you that the next time I saw you would be to beg for arrangements of your work, and I wasn't lying. I know what you must think of me, especially since I’m sure Syncopation told you his side of the story, but I have to try: would it be possible to get a symphony arrangement of 'Luna's Dreamscape?'"

Octavia had not forgotten about Coda, but knowing what she knew now, she couldn't help but laugh. "Coda, the Royal Symphony couldn't play it if they tried!"

"Come, now, there's no reason to insult your fellow musicians. What about a copy of the three parts you used tonight? Perhaps we can-"

"I can't give you those parts, Coda."
"Look, I know you probably hate me-"

"It's not about any hate, Coda. Not that I hate you at all. I can't give you those parts because I didn't write them."

"No? Then who did?"

"Nopony. They were never written down. Not completely, at any rate.”

"You mean to tell me that was all improvised?!"

“Well,” Octavia idly waved a hoof. “Most of it, yes.”

The normally composed director faltered, slumping to his haunches in an uncharacteristically undignified manner. "You... You've come a long way in a short time, Octavia. I'd be proud if only any of it were my doing."

“Don’t be silly: you got me started on this!”

The old Earth Pony shook his head. “I gave you two addresses and an impossible task. It was you who carried through, without any contact, insight, or certainly any help from me. I cut you loose from a drowning ideal and let you struggle to the surface. What is there for me to be proud of?”

Tense, uncomfortable silence answered his question. Ponies were starting to mill around the group, mingling after their meal. Coda coughed surreptitiously into his shoulder. Both Octavia and Syncopation glanced at their third member.

“What?” Vinyl raised an eyebrow.

“Nothing to say? No crazy remark to diffuse the awkwardness?”

“I never say anything crazy!”

“Thank you, that was perfect.”

“I say, Miss Melody, that was the most stunning musical performance I have ever seen or heard!” The group whipped around to see Fancy Pants approaching. “Congratulations on a job very well done!” Behind him, the musicians could see ponies failing to pretend to not be listening in.

“Thank you, Fancy.” Octavia replied easily. This was a style of conversation she excelled at. “I couldn’t have done it without my friends, though,” She gestured to her accomplices beside her.

“Aww, Tavi! I knew you cared!” Vinyl slung herself over Octavia’s back, the added weight nearly tipping the cellist over. Syncopation accepted the attention with a brief nod.

Fancy Pants chuckled at Octavia’s sheepish grin. “You really are quite the trio. I must admit, though, my reasons for this conversation are not entirely social.”

Octavia’s ears perked. If Fancy Pants wasn’t just chatting amicably, he was talking business.

“I know a few ponies around and about Equestria that would be very interested in this style you’ve demonstrated. With your permission, I could arrange some appearances for you here and there, get the word out that you’re back on the music scene. I could even sponsor you in Canterlot, if you prefer to stay here for now. Or do you already have a home venue?”

“OF COURSE THEY DO!” Luna’s voice boomed next to Octavia’s head for the second time that evening. “It is called the ‘Dreamscape Theatre’ and is on the east side of town! I shall be overseeing the renovation myself!”

“Oh! Princess, you don’t have to-”

“Nonsense, Miss Melody! This is the perfect opportunity to encourage arts on which my sister has turned her back! Music, art shows, even plays that actually have meaning and subtext performed weekly! With you three as the primary act, of course. I see a bright future here, Miss Melody!”

“Now wait just a hay-picking minute!” Coda intervened. “That’s my cellist you’re talking to; you can’t just take her away on some cross-country tour, or… or a-!”

“It is my understanding, Coda,” Fancy countered in the most politely acidic tone Octavia had ever heard him use. “That you fired her from your Symphony, which means that she is a free agent, and certainly able to make her own decisions about her music, and where she wants to go with it.”

Coda huffed, irked at being rebuked so easily. “Octavia, I… Well, if I were you, I wouldn’t want to come back to the Symphony. So, best of luck with that and all. I hope you’ll make room for a few commissions from time to time, though?”

“It sounds like I’m going to be quite busy,” Already Octavia was worried about not measuring up to everypony’s standards.

“The greatest reward is doing what you love,” Syncopation said.

“True, very-”

“Besides rubbing it in the faces of everypony who doubted you.”

“Of course,” The group shared a good-natured laugh.

-XXX-

Octavia spent the walk back to her apartment deep in thought. Everything was happening so quickly! A job offer to go on tour? A whole theater dedicated to the new style of music and thought? Princess Luna really had outdone herself with that dinner: Octavia couldn’t have dreamed of a better outcome. She would have to thank the night princess the next time she saw her.
At the same time, she was leaving the Symphony. The group had been her life and livelihood for seven years. Now she was leaving it all behind. Fermata had finally overthrown her and become top cellist.

She supposed it was for the best: progress and all that. She had grown out of the old ways, and ushered in a new revolution of music. If Fancy Pants was right, and he could get her sound out to the edges of the country, than her vision of changing Equestria’s mind about how they viewed musical performance would be a very real possibility.
For now, though, she was tired, and wanted nothing more than to fall into her bed and sleep for maybe a day or two. She had time, right? Surely she could take a break now that everything was going her way?

The short answer, she decided, was “no.” She had commented that she would be busy, and it would only get busier if she rose as fast as Fancy had predicted. She would be writing a lot of music with her friends, and she realized she wouldn’t have it any other way.

-XXX-

“Taaaaaaviiiiiiiiiii!”

Octavia’s breath fled her as she was tackled by what appeared to be a white and blue missile with four legs. It would have been comical, she thought, were it not for the scrapes and bruises she sustained upon landing.

“Oof. Good afternoon, Vinyl. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Vinyl either missed or was immune to her victim’s sarcasm. “I haven’t seen you in two days! That’s way too long for friends to be apart! Besides, you gotta see this!”

Any argument Octavia had died in her throat when she saw Vinyl’s face: her glasses had been pushed up over her horn, and she was practically glowing with excitement. “Well, then I guess you’d better show me,”

They made their way through the city, Vinyl bouncing a little with every step. “You’re not gonna believe what they did Tavi! The whole thing! It’s good as new!”

“What thing, Vinyl?” Octavia trotted lightly to keep up, now somewhat peeved at the unicorn she was following.

“You’ll see!”

“See wha-?” As the pair turned the corner, a massive construction site came into view. Scaffolding climbed up the facade of a building halfway down the street, with pegasi buzzing around the top, signaling to each other and lifting beams into place. Earth Ponies and unicorns clustered around the base and scaffolding, painting and polishing whatever they could reach. In the middle of it all stood Princess Luna, directing the commotion with exacting precision. On her head, a bright orange helmet looked oddly at home.
Octavia froze, dumbstruck. She had to glance around at the other buildings on the street to recognize that the building under construction must be their hall. Gaping in what she was sure was a most unladylike manner, she carefully walked toward the site.

Luna saw her drawing nearer and trotted to meet her. “Ah, Miss Melody! Come to see the fruits of your work?”

“My work? It looks like you’re the one in charge here,”

“‘Twould not have been possible without your bravery and dedication. As I told Miss Scratch earlier, rebuilding this would have been a hollow victory. Now, thanks to you, there is reason to spend resources on this project.”

Octavia looked up to where a team of four pegasi were guiding the "T" in "Theatre" into place. A strange sense of pride and accomplishment the likes of which she had not felt in six months, since performing her last solo pieces, filled her chest and brought water to her eyes. This was really happening!

"Would you like to see the interior?"

"Yeah, c'mon, Tavi!" Vinyl had noticed her friend's absence and doubled back. "The inside's even cooler than the outside!"

Octavia followed eagerly now, wondering what could be better than seeing a monument to your dreams erected.

Her ruminations were answered in the best way possible: the interior decorations were gorgeous. The windows had been replaced with a smoky light cyan glass, filtering in the sunlight and tinting it blue; Octavia could have mistaken the effect for being underwater. The carpet was rich blue with swirling purple patterns. Matching banners hung from the ceiling, embroidered with depictions of what could only be snapshots from dreams Luna had seen. Strange flora and fauna populated the landscapes; she saw trees with purple branches, red branches, and even no branches. Flowers with hundreds of petals stretched to the sky in every hue imaginable. Ponies played with friends, spent time alone and with loved ones, and did incredible things like flying or fighting ninjas and, in one case, a fully-grown dragon. Ponies were putting finishing touches here and there: painting, arranging the lobby furniture, and sweeping the carpet.
Octavia moved into the main body of the theater, and had to catch her breath once more. The ceiling had been modeled after the Lunar Dining Hall’s, with glittering points of light marking positions of stars. Lush royal purple carpet stretched to the stage, and the seats had been replaced with handsome black wood and midnight blue cushions. The balcony behind her now gleamed silver.

“So! You like it?” Vinyl popped up next to her.

“‘Like’ is a pretty tame word to describe what I’m feeling. Amazement, adoration, incredulity…”

“Limit’s two syllables, remember, Tavi?”

Octavia laughed at the memory. “Yes, Vinyl, I like it very much.”

“An appropriate setting for a cultural renaissance, is it not?” Luna commented from behind them.

“Luna, you’ve completely outdone yourself with this. I can’t thank you enough for-”

“Then thank me not, cellist; I did this of mine own accord. It was a dream of mine as well, after all.”

Accepting this, Octavia made her way toward the refurbished stage. The cherry stain on the wood almost glowed under the glaring lights. She turned to the center, where the natural spotlight she had noticed the first time she had been here still illuminated a circle in front of her. Looking out at the contrast between what she saw now and what she remembered made her feel lightheaded.

“How did you do all this in two days?”

“I am Princess Luna, Alicorn Mistress of the Night. I may do what I wish!” Luna proclaimed, but then wilted at the look her subject directed at her. “Come now, you saw all the workers outside. I’ve had them rotate eight-hour shifts for the past 48 hours. All were happy to help contribute to this cause.”

And what could be a worthier cause than the progression of thought? Octavia stepped off the stage and walked reverently back down the central aisle. Vinyl and Luna fell in behind her, and the former spoke up.

“So, what are we doing for opening night?”

-XXX-

It felt strange to be writing music for a purpose once more. Octavia resented the fact, but there was nothing to do for it except to write music. She found her task much easier and more enjoyable without the shackles of social dogma.

The grand opening of the Dreamscape Theatre was scheduled to be in one week; next Monday evening. Of course Octavia and her friends would be headlining for the event. That meant new music in addition to revisions of Luna’s Dreamscape, rehearsing that music, determining a playlist order, and finding time to eat or breathe in between. Vinyl didn’t understand her obsession for perfection, but she was not about to ruin her good streak with a poorly executed piece of music.

Her days became a blur of repetitive activity: wake up, brush teeth, visit Latte, write music, eat lunch, play music, eat dinner, revise written music, go to sleep.

She gladly accepted and incorporated other ideas from her friends. The results were a mixture of three similar yet separate styles to accomplish the same general message for each song. The blends were designed so that the performers would have fun playing them, and were fun to listen to; just like Syncopation had suggested months ago, but couldn’t put into practice. Now it was finally happening, and she would be there to see it through.

-XXX-

Celestia liked to think that she was reasonably knowledgeable about what her subjects were up to, and she enjoyed keeping tabs on a few of her favorite ponies, including her sister. Nothing invasive of course; that was a breach of valued privacy. Even so, the newspaper headline that morning came as a surprise: "NEW THEATER TO OPEN ITS DOORS MONDAY."

"Luna," she said over breakfast. "Were you aware of this?"

Peering over her sister's shoulder, Luna hummed an affirmative. "Tis a great accomplishment, is it not?"

"I suppose a new business is always a good thing, but I have to wonder: why a theater?"

"The purpose of a theater is usually to procreate the arts,"

Celestia's voice grew testy. "I know what a theater is. Why is there a new one in Canterlot?"

Her sister's tone gave Luna pause. Suddenly she had a realization. "Why does it bother you so?"

"Carneighgie Hall gets plenty of business. We don't need another theater or hall or whatever interfering with that; it disrupts the balance of the city.”

"Balance? But this shows growth, that the city is adapting!"

"Adapting to what? Canterlot hasn't had a major cultural shift in the past 500 years!"

"Then perhaps it is due for a change sister. Maybe even past due?"

"My ponies are happy! There is no need for a revolution, cultural or otherwise!"

Luna stayed silent for a long while, regarding her breakfast.

"Sister..."

"You're afraid,” Luna whispered. “Is that it? You fear your rule is insufficient so you stifle all attempts to even nudge the status quo and hope the citizens remain ignorant? You give them a picture of peace and butterflies and say everything is perfect when all of it is to mask your refusal to change! What city is there in which to keep balance? All I see is your little wind-up toy!"
Her tirade ended with a loud bang; a sudden, indignant gesture that actually dented the table.

"You have no right to judge me, Luna. You haven't been here-"

"Indeed! And 'tis a very different world than the one I knew! Times change, Celestia. You tell me that every time I use the Royal Voice, which, by the way, I still say we should re-implement. It's effective if not outright fun."

“That’s no way to rule, sister. One thousand years of interacting with the populace has taught me that.”

Luna scoffed. “Insult me not, O great and wise one. You cannot call what you do to your constituents 'interacting.' At best 'tis distant observation."

"I am plenty capable of getting emotionally attached to ponies," Celestia snorted.

"Ah yes; I forgot about your precious student. I presume you're monitoring her 'balance,' as well?"

"I am doing what's best for her!"

"She follows you obediently; most of the time, blindly! When was the last time she thought for herself, Celestia? Where does the freedom of the mind fit in your perfect world?" The Princess of the night sat back and stared at her plate, which had by now gone cold. Across from her, Celestia stood up and walked to one of the ceiling high windows on the East side of the dining hall. Both sisters were breathing heavily.

“You cannot imagine what it has been like,” The elder said.

The younger slowly shook her head. “Then enlighten me.”

“One thousand years passed, dear sister. One thousand years without a hint of a spark of intelligence, without the capability for thought. When you had gone, I was left to guide our ponies to prosperity. They looked to me to tell them what to do, how to do it, how to live and carry on. They didn’t want to think; they only wanted to exist.

“Starswirl was dead, Clover was dead, and I had just banished the only being that could have possibly understood me. I was so very alone, dear sister. Alone in a sea of omission and denial.”

“If these words of yours are meant to inspire pity in me, I should tell you that it isn’t working,”

“I am simply giving you my perspective.”

"What, then, is your point?"

"The point is that I found something that worked and stuck with it. I learned that no one being can run a country, not even me. So I delegated the day-to-day tasks to some trusted friends from before your fall, while I handled the panic and confusion that comes with any major shift in power. It took seven hundred years to achieve this cultural, political, and economic balance. I won’t go through that again.” Celestia closed her eyes and bathed in the warm glow her rising sun provided. “There is, however, another chapter to the story.”

Luna’s harsh glare softened. “Do tell,”

“Shortly after I had established relative balance in Canterlot and the other major cities, a small family of farmers approached me with a petition: they wanted to settle a centrally located plot of land, not far from the Everfree Forest. I was… hesitant to let anypony near our old castle, but they… I saw their eyes sparkle, and I seized the opportunity. I wanted them to succeed; they showed such promise. I had spent so long looking for somepony, anypony to show some love and pride for their life, and I had finally found it.”

Breakfast forgotten, Luna joined her sister at the window. The spread of Equestria lay before her, rolling green hills giving way to the Central Valley and the Everfree Forest. In the valley itself, a quaint little village rested.

“I still go there now and then to check their progress, and they have progressed.” Celestia’s voice was soft and calm, but Luna could hear the tension: her sister sounded as if she was about to cry. “Ponyville: the last of the free cities.”

Luna draped a wing over her much larger sibling in an attempt to comfort her. "It doesn't have to be that way, you know,"

Celestia heaved a sigh. "If you can find even three ponies besides ourselves willing to change this city, I might just believe you."

"WONDERFUL!" The outburst nearly made Celestia jump out of her shoes. "I shall inform them immediately, and you can see them for yourself come Monday evening!" Luna pranced back to her place at the table, the previous argument washed from her mind. "Chef! I require a new breakfast, please!"

Celestia’s ears were still ringing. Princess or no, the Royal Voice did a number on your hearing. “Wait, what? Luna!”

Author's Note:

So the return key on my laptop has decided to stop working... Result: indented paragraphs. Please let me know what you think so far!

Comments

[Reeve]

Heads up, I didn't receive any notification that this story had a knew chapter published, it was only by luck that I noticed it. Still, awesome chapter as always, I assume it's drawing close to an end now