Notes, Stories, and Worries. Oh my...
Return to Equestria: The Rise of Roam
Sonata Dusk
It was not entirely accurate to describe what Sonata was experiencing a headache. If she had been obligated to give a proper description of what the disturbance in her brain felt like, she’d have described it more like a living thing moving around inside her skull. Not anything gross like an alien parasite trying to take over her mind or anything, although, as Sonata thought to herself, that might be kind of cool. But then imagination led her on to wonder what kind of things the parasite might make her do, and felt a warmth spread over her face.
Well, if it was with Sunset, then maybe... I don’t know if I’d mind that so much... she thought, feeling the blush overtake her face.
She was interrupted from these extremely private imaginings by the sound of a voice nearby. She wouldn’t have paid it any attention at all, passing through a slightly crowded area of the town square, if the voice itself hadn’t sounded as though it was addressing her.
“You’re being followed.”
Sonata stopped walking, the rather risqué thought in her head imploding as she looked quickly around. No pony was looking in her direction. All around her was the white noise and bustle of ponies going about their daily business. She scrutinised one or two individuals standing around apparently without an object in mind, trying to see if she caught their eye.
It was at this point that she noticed a half-perceived oddity. The first pony she watched was a creamy-coloured stallion with an orange mane, humming a tune to himself whilst he gazed at the horizon; nothing extraordinary there in Sonata’s opinion. But the mare sitting on a bench by the statue on the other hand, something about her made Sonata suspicious.
Moving out of the way of the general pedestrian traffic, Sonata stared hard at her. It wasn’t her posture, nor her attitude of consummate boredom as she sat reading a newspaper. It was something in her face... something... And then it happened. The mare yawned, and Sonata, on the lookout for discrepancies, saw something that made her heart jump in her chest.
As the mare covered her mouth with her hoof, she couldn’t quite cover up the fact that her teeth were pointed; or if not pointed, then certainly more angular than the typically flat, herbivorous teeth of most ponies. Then Sonata noticed the eyes. They were oddly bright and shiny, more like glass than flesh. Then as the mare turned her head slightly, Sonata saw how their natural deep purple colouration momentarily split into a myriad of rainbow colours, like light being filtered through quartz. It happened only for a split second, but the effect was so profound that Sonata found herself staring agape. Until the mare noticed her staring, and frowned at her; Sonata instinctively looked away and tried to blend into the crowd.
“Sunset?” Sonata called as she reached their room at the inn. “Sunset, are you here?” She looked in the bathroom, and then did another short look over the room in general. Sunset definitely wasn’t there.
“Is something wrong?” asked a voice at the door. Sonata turned quickly to see Loyal Stride standing facing away from the entrance. “You sound panicked.”
“Loyal Stride!” Sonata said, rushing at the door. “There was this pony in the town square. No, wait, first there was this voice, it said I was being followed, and then I turned around and no pony was there. I mean, there were lots of ponies, but—“
“Are you decent?” Loyal Stride asked firmly over her waffling.
“W-What?” Sonata stammered, brought up short. Loyal Stride repeated the question, but it still took a moment or two for Sonata to catch onto his meaning. “Oh!” she exclaimed. “Well, I guess. I mean, I don’t really wear clothes when I’m a pony.” Her mouth curved upwards into a smile, and she began to snicker.
“It’s just common courtesy,” Loyal Stride grunted as he went pink in the cheeks, “to ask a lady if one is allowed into their quarters.”
“Quarters?” Sonata snorted. “You’re such a gentleman.”
Loyal Stride bore her merriment a second or two more before he tapped the floor a little impatiently. “Is there a problem?” he asked over her stifled chuckling. “You looked distressed.”
The memory of the mare’s pointed teeth jarred its way into Sonata’s brain like a snake bursting from under the sand. It had a similar effect of bowel-loosening sobriety as a snake might have as well. She coughed herself to seriousness.
“Yes, actually,” she said uneasily. “Well, whilst I was out, I saw... well...” She explained to Loyal Stride what she had seen with as much detail as she could remember. To her astonishment, he didn’t seem in the least bit surprised by her report. But he did seem puzzled by her astonishment.
“Well of course she looked monstrous,” Loyal Stride said a little dispassionately. “We’re in the Nightlands. The effects of the plague may never go away.”
Sonata frowned at him slightly. She’d heard that before; the plague. She thought maybe Script had mentioned it. “Loyal Stride, I wasn’t... err, around, for the plague.”
“Well of course not,” Loyal Stride chuffed, almost smiling. “None of us were. It happened just before the invasion of Equestria, some sixty five years ago.”
Sonata swallowed. It still made her very uneasy to think about that. “Well, what exactly did the plague do? Did it... kill a lot of ponies? Why does it mean ponies have pointy teeth and shiny eyes?”
Loyal Stride stared at her. Maybe it was the overtly simplistic way in which she’d described the mare, or simply that he was astonished that he had to explain any of this, Sonata didn’t know.
“It didn’t kill anypony, no,” he began slowly. It was a little surreal to see him look uneasy, given his usually unforgiving and stoic manner. “It was... well, the best way I can describe it, it was some kind of virulent magical transformation. Ponies infected would turn rabid and hunt down healthy ponies to infect them as well” He cleared his throat. “If I’m going to explain this, may I sit down?”
“O-Oh!” Sonata looked behind her. “Sure. Please, come in.” She grinned widely as she gestured him inside.
“As I understand it,” he began again, seated on a floor cushion. “The Equestrians blamed the changelings initially, since the initial spike in infections originated in the south, and coincided with the war for the Badlands. Equestrian officials believed that changelings fleeing Roaman forces brought the infection with them.”
“D-Did they?” Sonata asked, horrified.
Loyal Stride bit his lip. “No pony is really sure. Roam firmly pins the blame upon them officially, but nothing like it has ever been recorded in any of Roam’s dealing with changelings before. Their magic is very limited in scope, mainly constrained to illusions and mental suggestions as well as casting basic magical attacks. They lack the versatility of unicorn magic. I personally doubt they had the ability to manufacture a magical transformation of the sort that spread through the Nightlands. I’m not an expert, you understand” he said quickly. “Altogether it seems unlikely. No Roaman casualties of this plague were reported, which given it virulence seems incredibly unlikely if it came from the changelings. They could have used something like that to create havoc amongst our armies and use the chaos to either escape or fight back.”
Sonata raised her eyebrows at him. She’d fully expected him to blame the changelings, even if he knew that they were innocent. She’d developed an opinion of the Roamans as a very prejudiced society, prone to blaming major problems upon others; to hear Loyal Stride say something so frankly impartial was quite surprising.
“That’s... quite fair of you,” Sonata said disjointedly.
Loyal Stride looked quickly at the window. “There’s no point casting blame on somepony when you don’t know that it was them. Making assumptions usually leads to missing the vital truth.” He scowled. “And that can get you killed.”
“Um...” Sonata began awkwardly. “I know that we’re not friends or anything.”
“Don’t ask anything too personal,” Loyal Stride said, seeming to read Sonata’s mind.
Sonata coughed. “Well I... I just sort of wondered... is this life debt thing really worth following us around and stuff? Won’t the army think you’ve deserted?”
“The army thinks I’m dead,” Loyal Stride replied simply. “And as much as I hate to admit it, I think Parchment Script might just be right. Thinking on it.”
“You mean about the army trying to kill you?” Sonata asked. Almost immediately she wished that she hadn’t said it. Loyal Stride’s cold blue eyes became like blue chips of ice. She rapidly sought for a different question to change the subject. “So, um... you’re dating Script’s sister?”
“You are terrible at this, aren’t you?” Loyal Stride inquired bluntly.
Sonata did not verbally respond to that; she was too busy trying to repress the uncomfortable, prickly heat cascading across her skin. As a human the sensation had been unpleasant, but with the added coat of hair as a pony, Sonata found that her embarrassment at her chronic indiscretion showed itself in a slight poofing of her body hair. It was a lot more difficult to hide than a blush, she had to admit.
“Sorry, I guess that falls under the headline of too personal, huh?” Sonata followed up this apology with an ingratiating smile.
“Yes, I’m dating—“ He sketched quotes in the air. “—Script’s sister.” He let out a long sigh, as though the next thing was being said against his better judgment. “We’re going to have a baby actually.”
“A baby!?” Sonata burst excitedly. “Congratz on that!” she laughed, all awkwardness forgotten.
“Thank you,” Loyal Stride replied, turning pink in the face again. “To be honest it’s still a bit of a shock.”
“People and ponies always seem to act that way about babies,” Sonata mumbled, more to herself than to him. “And she’s a unicorn too? Is that, like, weird in Roam or something?”
Loyal Stride’s expression darkened. “Again, I loathe admitting when Script is right. At least, he’s right a little. Unicorns are unfairly persecuted in Roaman society. Things have improved since the time of Neighro, in fairness, when he blamed a great many of the Republic’s problems on magical societies and the unicorn populace. Just playing on old prejudices. But it still lingers today.” He looked at Sonata dead on. “I wouldn’t have my rank if certain ponies knew about my relationship with her. They’d think I didn’t have proper respect for tradition. That I don’t have proper earth pony feeling.”
“So you hid it?”
“We both agreed it was for the best. At least for the moment. Neither of us needed the trouble.”
“But what about when the baby is born?” Sonata asked, concerned.
“I admit that we had not thought that far ahead. The foal wasn’t... pre-planned.” He cleared his throat again. Sonata chuckled internally at how easily he could be flustered. She elbowed him good-naturedly.
“I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”
“Mm.”
Sonata took that as a cue to stop talking about it, and so changed the subject again. “So, what do you think about the voice?”
“So far as I can tell,” Loyal Stride began, not sounding too disappointed to have the subject changed, “you don’t even know if it was directed at you.”
Sonata blinked. She hadn’t thought of that. She’d been so taken up with the mare with the sharp teeth that she hadn’t stopped to consider whether the mysterious voice had in fact been talking to her.
“Huh,” she said, feeling a little silly. “I guess.”
“I wouldn’t be too concerned. But never get complacent.”
A knock on the door spared Sonata having to reply to this. Opening slightly, a sliver of a face peeped in through the crack.
“Excuse me,” said the innkeeper deferentially. “Might I ask where your companions might be?”
“Is there a problem?” Loyal Stride asked.
“Not really, no sir,” the innkeeper went on, opening the door more and bowing his head slightly. “Its just we was hoping there was no domestic issues going on between the happy couple, sir.”
Sonata blushed. Had he heard her conversation with Sunset? They had been just beside the inn after all.
“I don’t think that’s any of your business,” Loyal Stride said, firmly but no impolitely.
The innkeeper inclined his head again still further. “No, not at all, sir. We just don’t want any problems during your stay is all.”
Sonata and Loyal Stride simply stared at him, each with appropriate levels of surprise or suspicion on their faces. The whole thing seemed almost... contrived, to Sonata. There was something going on that she couldn’t quite put her hoof on. The innkeeper seemed to become uncomfortable under this scrutiny; he coughed discreetly and turned to leave.
“Well, enjoy your stay. Hope you find everything...” he trailed off as his voice receded down the hall.
“Do you get the feeling that there’s something wrong with this town?” Sonata asked Loyal Stride.
“I wouldn’t know,” he replied casually. “I’m not terribly familiar with Equestrian customs. Perhaps they frequently have trouble with travellers causing trouble here.”
“Maybe,” Sonata said a little uneasily. “I don’t know. I’ve been getting a weird feeling from this place. Like my necklace knows something’s wrong.”
“Your necklace?” Loyal Stride repeated suspiciously. “Explain.”
“Well,” Sonata started, trying to find the words to adequately explain the issue. When she’d finished explaining how her ability to see negative energy and magic usually worked, and the new strange feeling that she’d been experiencing, Loyal Stride hummed thoughtfully.
“I’m not an expert in magic,” he said slowly. “But perhaps what you’re feeling is a different kind of magic. One that your curse... powers, senses or whatever, aren’t attuned to sense properly.”
“But if that’s true, then what magic is going on?”
“I wouldn’t know,” Loyal Stride shrugged. “As I say, Equestria is an unknown to me. I’ve always heard that it’s a magical nation. I always assumed that ponies used magic for all kinds of things. Maybe there’s protections spells on some of the buildings, or alarms—“
“It’s not like that,” Sonata murmured. “It’s like... it’s like something... creeping over me.”
Loyal Stride regarded her solemnly for a moment. “Why are you telling me these things?” Sonata didn’t understand the question. “We don’t know each other. We’re not friends. Why are you telling me any of your feelings like this?”
“Don’t you think it’s important?” Sonata asked tentatively, hoping he would say no.
“It’s an unknown,” Loyal Stride replied darkly. “And the thing one discovers in the army, is that unknowns tend to get you killed.”
Sonata gulped. “You’ve said that twice now.”
“Tell your marefriend about it. Or Parchment Script. They can probably tell you better than I can what it means.”
“Sunset doesn’t know what it is.” Her insides twisted a little. “I know you don’t like him now, but you were friends with Script once, weren’t you?”
Loyal Stride’s mouth worked a little before he answered. “It’s not a question of whether I like him or not,” he said, barely moving his lips. “He’s a traitor, and he’s half-demented. He won’t let go of this crazy conspiracy.”
“Loyal Stride,” Sonata mumbled, wondering if she should even go here. “Do you even believe that?”
“Of course I don’t. That’s why I said it’s crazy.”
“Not the conspiracy. I mean what you just said.”
Loyal Stride scowled. “Of course I believe it. There’s no questioning it. He abandoned his post, his homeland, his sister, and his friends, all to chase some invisible enemy.”
“And you think that it’s not important whether you like him or not?” Sonata asked. “I’m not smart,” she went on, staring at the grains in the wooden floor, scratching idly at a little burn made by a dropped candle. “But I know some things. And I think that you’re lying.”
“Even if I do care about what Parchment Script has done, personally, it’s irrelevant. His crimes define my duty; what I feel has nothing to do with it.”
Sonata looked at him, scowling. “Are all Roamans like that?”
“Like what?”
“Like my sisters,” Sonata sighed. “They liked to lie to themselves too. I didn’t see it for so long, but when I did...” she bit her lip, realising just how presumptuous she was being. “I’m not trying to tell you how to feel, or how to deal with your feelings,” she said quickly, wanting to make that point perfectly clear. “I just,” she hesitated. “I just don’t like seeing anypony do what we did.”
Loyal Stride’s scowl twisted a little into a look of perplexity. “And how exactly would Script and I go about doing that?” he inquired, the smallest hint of amusement in his voice. This seemed such an odd response to what Sonata believed she had meant that she asked him what he was talking about. “If you really are a siren, as Script said,” he grunted, as though to somepony slow of mind, “then I don’t really see how it is that we could do what you supposedly did. Hypnotising ponies and stealing magic, or energy, or whatever it was.”
“I don’t mean that!” Sonata cried. “I mean losing our powers, letting the bitterness break us up and drive us to—“ she broke off here. “Just... just forget I mentioned it.
“Lost your powers?” Loyal Stride repeated. “But you’re cursed. How in the world could you lose your powers?”
Seeing that Loyal Stride had no idea what she was talking about, she proceeded to give him the brief version of her and her sister’s plan to conquer Canterlot High School, and their subsequent defeat. Limiting the information on being human to simply being in an alternate dimension for the sake of time, she finished by explaining, even more briefly, her life up to the point of meeting Sunset again.
“And I take it,” Loyal Stride interrupted, as though just clarifying a point, “that you went on to fall in love with her. The mare who basically stripped you of your powers and blocked your path to world domination.”
“Well the whole world domination thing probably wouldn’t have worked out anyway,” Sonata muttered quickly under her breath. “But in short, pretty much.”
Loyal Stride paused. And then burst out laughing. Loud, raucous peels of almost uncontrollable laughter. Sonata blushed, feeling that he was laughing at her.
“It’s not that funny,” she said out one corner of her mouth.
“Forgive me,” he choked, clearing his throat back to normal speech. “It’s just, it sort of reminded me... never mind,” he snickered.
“Oh come on, you can’t leave me hanging on a cliff-hanger like that!” Sonata giggled, seeing some opportunity for revenge. But Loyal Stride simply kept quiet, trying and failing to comport himself with his usual reserved manner. “Oh you’re no fun,” Sonata complained, rolling her eyes.
“And don’t you forget it,” Loyal Stride said, almost seriously.
Sonata thought of teasing him some more, rather enjoying how it seemed to be breaking down the wall of ice between them, when something of what he’d said caught in her mind.
“Wait a minute,” she began slowly. “You know what I did in this world a thousand years ago? Err, you mind explaining that to me at least?”
Loyal Stride blinked, and then frowned at her. It wasn’t an annoyed frown, it was more as though he couldn’t tell if she was playing dumb. “Well of course I do. Everypony knows that story. At least in Roam they do.”
Sonata’s eyebrows shot straight up under her fringe. “How?”
“It’s one of those old stories parents tell their foals,” Loyal Stride shrugged. “Morality tale really.”
Sonata was just about to inquire further, wanting to know something of her own past, when they were suddenly interrupted by the startling circumstance of the door bursting open with an almighty crash. If this wasn’t startling enough, it was swiftly followed by a loud, roar-like exclamation of exasperation.
“I leave this town for two weeks,” Script announced, “and everything just stops working!”
“He means,” Sunset said, coming in behind him before anyone could inquire, “that he can’t get any of the items he wants from the market.”
“Except these bottles,” Script stated matter-of-factly, raising a small box of the round bottles he seemed to like so much. “Seems only Nightlanders are the least bit reliable these days.”
Sonata noticed that Sunset was giving Loyal Stride a wide berth for some reason as she stepped over to the bed and handed Sonata a folded letter.
“What’s this?” she asked, raising an eyebrow at the yellowish paper.
“No idea,” Sunset shrugged. “The innkeeper gave it to us as we came in through the door. Said it had just that second arrived for you.”
Sonata frowned. No one now alive knew her in Equestria; who could be sending her letters? Consumed with curiosity she opened it, and instantly went cold and pale. It took a moment or two for her to realise that Sunset was speaking to her again.
“What does it say?” Sunset asked, looking a little frightened. “You look like you’ve seen—“ she stopped, staring at the note. Then slowly, her brow creased, and she too turned a little white. “What is this?” she whispered.
This was sufficiently mysterious to make Script come and peer over Sunset’s shoulder, and even Loyal Stride covertly leaned in for a look.
Siren
You’re being watched
We need to talk
The flurry of speculation that followed this was predictably chaotic. Sonata sat silent and worried. Not for herself so much, but at the idea that she, herself, was being watched, and so therefore bringing more trouble on Sunset and the others. She knew that this was the case, for unlike the chest-clenching tightness of regular fear, she felt the acid-lined pit of guilt bubbling away inside of her. What else had she brought upon them all?
Sunset was almost equally quiet, except when she told Script to quiet down. As per his particular method of dealing with issues, he was striding around complaining about it, his sharp green eyes searching the various nooks and crannies of the room for means of spying. Loyal Stride was doing the same, but rather more quietly and tactfully, checking the windows, door, and even tapping discreetly at the walls where he seemed to think weak spots might allow somepony to listen in.
Once Script had come to the end of his tirade, Loyal Stride briefly explained the gist of Sonata’s story to him about what she had heard in the square.
“So whoever sent this was probably following you,” Sunset said quietly, gazing with wide eyes at Sonata. “What are we going to do about this?”
“Do?” Script asked, puzzled.
“Yes, do!” Sunset said a little hysterically. “Someone’s following us. By the sounds of this,” she went on, indicating the note, “they’re after Sonata. Whoever they are.”
“There’s nothing we can do,” Script said blithely. “Not until they show themselves.”
“Indeed,” Loyal Stride said shortly. “We don’t know whom we’re facing, or what to expect. All we can do is wait.”
They all reacted with varying degrees of seriousness, according to their individual feelings. Loyal Stride frowned at the floor boards, his face as ever, inscrutable. Sunset’s eyes darted over certain parts of the room as though things were moving out of the corner of her vision, and she was trying to catch them at it. Sonata sat trying to not make nervous ticks and other obvious signs of discomfort, but in doing so managed to look unnaturally rigid like a plaster mould of herself. Script on the other hand cleared his throat discreetly, and turned a little pink.
“Eh... well, err...” he muttered, his green eyes flicking anywhere but at any of them.
“What?” Sunset asked.
“Well...” he said again, scratching absently at his neck. “Okay, don’t take this badly or anything, but um... yeah, this town is kind of occupied by...” he looked around apprehensively as they all looked at him. Sonata noticed Loyal Stride’s expression darkening, as though he knew what was coming. Apparently Script noticed this too, since he gave his head an impatient shake and said firmly, but quietly. “This is a changeling town.”
A rather pregnant silence followed this declaration. None of them said anything. Sonata couldn’t think of anything, whilst Sunset simply seemed to be undergoing some kind of mental overload, looking out of the window as though expecting to see changelings pressing their noses against the glass. Loyal Stride was taking long, deep breaths, and seemed to be trying not to shout.
Taking advantage of this, Script went on. “See, this is why I didn’t tell any of you.”
“And now we’re getting threats,” Sunset snapped, jarred back to reality.
“It’s probably not from the changelings,” Script said over her. “I’ve been coming to this town for months; they aren’t hostile.”
“Aren’t they?” Sonata asked, thinking of the changelings that’d chased them in the tunnels. “They seemed pretty hostile back then.”
“There’s a town of them,” Loyal Stride muttered, scowling. “How can this be possible?”
“Yeah, word never did reach us in the fifteenth about what the Night Princess did for them,” Script said, happy Sonata could tell, to latch onto this tangent. “It turns out that the changelings didn’t opt to stand and fight like we thought they did. The battle with their queen was actually a massive ruse.”
“What are you talking about?” Sunset asked impatiently.
“The expedition back during the conquest of the Badlands,” said Script in his familiar I’m-about-to-delve-into-a-big-explanation voice, “the Republic was led to believe that the changelings were effectively destroyed. You see, when a changeling queen is killed, the hive loses its cohesion and unity, and thus the ability to hunt for food, except on a individual basis. Standard military practise when fighting changelings is to cut out the heart and then occupy their lands before the hive can reform around a new queen. Turns out however,” here he gave Loyal Stride a look that may have been rueful or mocking, “that the changelings outsmarted us.”
“How so?” Loyal Stride demanded, looking annoyed.
“The queen sacrificed herself,” Script said simply. “She knew that she wouldn’t win the battle, nor would she be allowed to live. The vast majority of the changelings escaped to Equestria.” He gave Loyal Stride a sharp look. “With a proto-queen.”
Loyal Stride and Script shared an odd moment of serious looks for a moment, before Sonata raised a tentative hoof.
“Um...” she said uneasily. “What’s a proto-queen?”
“Essentially they are back-up-queens,” Sunset said thoughtfully. “Changeling hives routinely maintain a small clutch of ‘royal’ eggs that are preserved carefully in the event that anything happens to the extant queen. Proto-queens hatch when infused with a large amount of love and eventually become the new queen.”
“And take over the hive-mind,” Script said darkly, nodding.
Sonata blinked. “Hive mind, like, the Borg?” she asked.
“The what?” Script asked, bewildered.
“The changelings aren’t a hive-mind,” Sunset explained to Sonata, cutting across Script’s confusion. “They have a link of some sort, but not in the same way as that science-fiction show you like so much.”
“Oh, good,” Sonata said, genuinely relieved. “Because we don’t have phasers, or proton torpedoes, or anything.”
“No, the changeling link is more of a vague emotional awareness between each other,” Sunset elaborated. “We don’t know much about it, but it’s thought that it allows the hive to be aware of what the rest of their nest is doing and feeling. To some degree, at least.”
“It’s thought that the queen is a crucial aspect of this link,” Script added eagerly. “Whilst there is clearly still some kind of interaction going on, typically the hive-mind is thrown into chaos when the queen is incapacitated or killed.”
“So what you’re telling me,” Loyal Stride said, sounding truly annoyed, “is that there’s a changeling queen in Equestria, controlling the vast majority of a horde that we we’d crushed long ago.”
“Erm...” Script considered a moment. “Yeah. Yeah, that sounds about right. And of course I couldn’t tell you about it. I didn’t figure it out until I came to Equestria. To be honest, I’m surprised that you two didn’t figure out there were changelings here already.” He looked between Sunset and Loyal Stride. “They were making it kind of obvious, you know.”
“Oh, yeah,” Sunset mumbled, suddenly looking embarrassed. “Asking me and Sonata about our relationship status out of the blue all the time.”
“Indeed,” Script agreed. Then he frowned. “It’s a little odd of them to be breaking character so overtly though.”
“What about me?” Sonata asked. “Didn’t you expect me to notice?”
Script gave her blank stare. “No.”
Sonata felt her face go red, whether from anger, embarrassment, or both, she didn’t know. “You’re mean,” she pouted.
“I’m honest,” Script corrected her.
Unexpectedly, at least from Sonata’s perspective, Script seemed to be as much, or almost as much, concerned about the note as Sunset was. Sonata noted with a warmth in her heart Sunset fretting over her safety, and really wanted Script and Loyal Stride to vacate the room so that she could take advantage of these feelings in privacy.
Unfortunately, Script insisted on going over ideas with Sunset about what to do when the perceived threat eventually did arise. Maintaining that nothing could be done until the threat actually surfaced, he did insist that they discuss some kind of plan, which meant that he and Loyal Stride remained in the room, Script and Sunset throwing ideas against the wall in what seemed to be an unending series of increasingly repetitive strategies. There was only so many ways somepony could say “we search the town” and “there’s only three of us”, before even the dullest onlooker picks up on the futility of the conversation.
Sonata sat next to Loyal Stride, waiting for this interminable discussion to end.
“How come you’re not involved in this?” she asked him. Being a military individual, she was rather surprised that he wasn’t throwing his weight into the debate.
“Firstly, it wouldn’t help. Secondly, if I hear something particularly inept, I’ll say so. Thirdly, the situation doesn’t call for a plan. At least, not the sort that they want to enact.”
“What’s that mean?” Sonata asked, puzzled.
“It means that the best thing to do is stay where we are. We’re essentially in a seige situation. If we’re being watched, then no matter what we do, whomever it is will see us do it. The best thing to do is to stick together and simply be ready for when they act.”
“Like we are right now?” Sonata asked, brightening up. She felt a little pleased with herself when Loyal Stride nodded solemnly. “Hey, um,” she said hesitantly. “Would you mind telling me that story?”
“What story?”
“You know, the one about me, and my sisters.”
Loyal Stride raised an eyebrow. “Why?”
Sonata blushed. “If I’m honest, I don’t remember much from back then.” The pink in her face turned redder under his slightly incredulous look. “It was a long time ago.”
“Well,” Loyal Stride said thoughtfully. “I know the gist of the story.”
“An outline will do fine,” Sonata said, thinking she could always ask Script to relate any small details afterwards.
“Well if I remember it right,” Loyal Stride began, “essentially what the story says is that there were three fillies who lived in Fleece. All three of them had special talents that made them well known, but also made them arrogant. The first could sing, the second could tell stories, and the third could paint.”
“Sounds about right,” Sonata muttered under her breath. “Wait, arrogant?” she blurted. She quailed a little under Loyal Stride’s raised eyebrows. “Sorry. Please, go on.”
Loyal Stride held her gaze for a moment longer, and then sniffed. “Well, anyway, the story goes that the Spirits heard of the singer’s talent, since she was the one that boasted the most. The most powerful Spirit of Song set up a contest, with a local king being the judge. The king declared the pony to be the winner after listening to both sing, and so the spirits cursed him and his entire kingdom to be sheep. Then they punished the three fillies.”
“I don’t remember any of this,” Sonata said to herself, her face scrunched up in confusion. “I do remember sheep though for some reason. But I don’t get why they punished me and Aria too if Adagio was the only one in the contest.”
“I think that the other two were punished too for cheering on their friend,” Loyal Stride said, stroking his chin a little. “One doesn’t mess around with the Spirits,” he said eerily. “That’s one of the points of the story. All three of them had their talents taken from them, and cursed to have enchanted voices that would make any listener love and obey them.”
“And that’s the end of the story?” Sonata asked, feeling like the story was only half finished.
“There’s some extended story where they’re driven insane by loneliness and bitterness I think,” Loyal Stride went on in a ponderous sort of way. “The love and attention wasn’t real, so eventually they just became monsters, like ponies punished by the Spirits always do. These old stories typically have monsters with sad pasts who basically just want to punish the rest of the world out of spite. It’s kind of a trend in morality tales from my country.”
Sonata didn’t reply to this. She rather wished that she hadn’t asked about the story now. If that story was true, then it might just explain why she didn’t remember any of it. She vaguely remembered travelling a lot, but she got that confused with travelling in the human world. All they ever seemed to do was keep moving. Just keep moving...
When Script and Sunset had finished talking, Sonata approached Script to ask a few specific questions, whilst Loyal Stride departed for his and Script’s room, and Sunset went to wash.
“Certainly I can tell you,” Script said magnanimously. “And you’re such a good listener too; be sure to mention that if I ever get mad at you for something. It’ll cheer me right up.”
Sonata promised perfunctorily to do just that. “What I wanted to know was if there was anything... I don’t know, good happening to us? Like after being cursed, and stuff. Did we have friends, or help anyone?”
Script stared at her for a moment. Then he burst out laughing. Sonata took this to mean he was about to deliver a negative answer, and sure enough.
“I’m not sure you quite understand what cursed means, my dear naive little fish-snake-pony.”
“You have a lot of different descriptions for me,” Sonata commented uncomfortably.
“You should feel lucky for that,” Script said in one quick breath. “To put it bluntly, no. There are no such stories that I’m aware of.”
“Oh,” Sonata said, her heart sinking.
“Now, if you want details on the tragedy part, I can give you some deliciously horrible descriptions there. The one, for instance, did actually make a friend on one of the islands at the tip of the peninsula. Shame really. Depending on the version of the story you listen to, the siren either tries to help this friend in their daily life and ends up getting them killed by the town, at which point the sirens slaughter everypony, or else the friend turns on them when the siren senses this massive wave of negative energy and goes crazy.”
“And what happens in that version?” Sonata asked, feeling a little sick.
“Oh, the sirens slaughter everpony,” Script answered vaguely, evidently embroiled in his own storytelling. “Makes for a marvellous stage performance, I have to say. Although they had to stop using fake blood when I was a colt, you know, after the patricians started to complain. It was never quite the same after that. It lost a little of its authenticity, you know what I mean?” He elbowed Sonata in a comradely sort of way. “And to think, that was probably you! You, butchering an entire town of ponies.” He snorted into laughter, although whether out of disbelief, or morbid delight, Sonata did not know. She herself felt rather ill.
When Script finally left, complimenting her again on her admirable listening skills, Sonata sat for a long time simply thinking about what she’d just learned. Every so often she’d look down at her pendant, and feel an uncomfortable writhing in her guts, and a thickness in her throat.
She’d... killed someone. Perhaps multiple someones. It had been long ago, but...
“What’s got you looking so scared?” said a voice from across the room.
Sonata jerked and looked up. “What?” she asked in alarm.
Sunset looked at her with tender concern. Her red and yellow hair was tied up in a towel, and her coat had the slightly fuzzed look of being just towel-dried. It almost made Sonata’s insides lessen their squirming. Sunset sat on the bed next to Sonata, and leaned up against her, adding a comforting weight to Sonata’s shoulder.
“You’re not worried about that note, are you?” she asked. “It’ll be fine. We’ve got two, manly-stallions watching over us.” When Sonata didn’t giggle at this instance of humour, Sunset’s expression fell into a more serious sort of concern for her marefriend. She nuzzled into Sonata’s cheek. “Come on, you know I wouldn’t let anything happen to you.”
“I wouldn’t let anything happen—“ Sonata began suddenly, before catching herself. “I mean... me too.” She forced a grin, trying to meet Sunset’s eyes.
“I know things have been hard,” Sunset said softly, in Sonata’s ear. “I promise it’ll turn out okay. We’ve gotten through a lot together, you and I. We always come out okay.”
“Yeah,” Sonata said, not really feeling it.
She thought about it all the way through her own shower, letting her thoughts wash over her like the hot water. They seemed to wind around her brain like clockwork, turning the same gears over and over as the circular outcomes and reasonings followed back to their inevitable conclusions.
By the time Sonata exited the shower, it seemed that Sunset had been too tired to wait. Looking at the clock, Sonata couldn’t blame her; time seemed to have just soared by as she mired herself in her worry. Looking down at her pendant again, she gazed between it, and Sunset.
Nothing had happened so far, and what, after-all, could happen whilst she slept?
She settled into bed next to Sunset. Perhaps disturbed by her approach, or perhaps having only feigned sleep, Sunset half opened her eyes, and with a small smile pulled Sonata close.
“I love you,” Sunset whispered, pulling her close.
A lump welled in Sonata’s throat, and her eyes suddenly burned with tears. She swallowed hard, and blinked back the wetness in her eyes.
“I love you too,” she said, trying desperately to keep the cracking from her voice, as she pulled Sunset close to her, and tried with all her might not to break down.
- To be Continued
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Poor Sonata, this make me just want to be there to reasure her.
My biggest question as of this moment is just why those giant crystals are underground for.
Poor Sonata. Bad enough she feels guilty, it's even worse that she isn't certain what she should feel guilty about.
That aside, those spirits sound a lot like the Greco-Roman gods - absolute jerks.
You do it all the time Daniel.
WOW! Being a Space Cadet helped Sonata.
I get the feeling this is just a tale based on a couple things, but ultimately untrue.
He's super cereal guys!
The story sounds sort of like that legend about the master seamstress who challenged Hera to a sewing battle and won. Then Hera turned her into a giant spider monster because the Greek gods were jerks. Honestly, they sound more like mortals drunk with power than any sort of divinity.
6430736 That will be explained *narrows eyes mysteriously* It's kind of integral to the story, spoiler alert
6431545 They are rather based on the Greco-Roman pantheon. Didn't think it appropriate to call them gods, since they haven't been referenced in the show.
6432791 I know I do
Make it so!
Like many legends, some of it is rooted in truth.
I am. Assume my death if I suddeny disappear from here without any warning.
6435007 Yeah, the story of Arachne having a weaving contest with Athena. A lot of Greek legends went like that. Apollo and Pan's music contest was the inspiration for this particular legend.
Our concept of modern divinity, as in the absent-landlord style of cold indifference to the world, is one that has been imposed upon western culture for the past 2000 years by christianity. During and before Roman times, most gods were thought to be physical beings that interacted witht he world.
Even the christian god was conceived as such a being, until other religions began to ascribe more powerful features to their own deities.
Arguably the Abrahamic deity is even more petty than the Greek ones. At least the Greek ones get in your face about a particular issue. They were meant to be the one absolute check on power and ambition. The christian one simply wants you to love it, in spite of what it does, or whether or not it exists, or it tortures you for eternity. I'd take the Greek deities any day.
6435240 I guess it really shows that I learned all my mythology from Percy Jackson.
Careful there, them's fightin' words. Lots of people believe in that diety, though I'm not one of them.
(No further comment, for risk of offending someone)
6435299 I'm nt trying to be confrontational about it, just stating the facts. But yeah, lets leave it there; I don't like offending people unless I can see the indignation in their eyes
So I read through this whole thing and I'm really loving this story, however I'm a bit lost on something.
I went back to the end of 'The Evening Sonata' to re-read Discords cryptic message to Sunset and Sonata. He mentioned that he 'nudged the time vortex just a bit', so was he the reason why there's a 60-70ish year difference between the human world and Equestria? Or is it some other ominous force that I must wait for you to write about before I can know?
6477614 I can say without giving away any spoilers that Discord is not responsible for their appearing 70 years late. It will be explained in the story why they've been propelled into the future, and Discord does know why it happened since he saw the reason for it,
In fairness it's not really a big deal why they're in the future, so I can PM the reason to you if you like. It doesn't ruin the storyline or anything.
6477706
please do, i like knowing things
ya lost a comma here: 'I’m not an expert, you understand”' and an apostrophe: '“Its just we was hoping'
sonata, what do you think parasites do??
aww! Daddy Loyal Stride! (I don't suppose smooth, planned pregnancies get very much publicity, do they?)
the Borg... I think I laughed to hard - oww
“And you’re such a good listener too; be sure to mention that if I ever get mad at you for something. It’ll cheer me right up.”
God, I just love the way you flesh out lore behind the Sirens (and not the same exact way!) and it's beautiful and fitting.
Y'know, I can't believe it takes 95% of this chapter to get a Sonata/Sunset moment...
I daresay I would miss you greatly if you were to go and die or something like that
... ahem but at some point after you've finished this story (I'd hate to make you repeat yourself) I'd love to pick your brain on all the little things you thought about and hid and implied that I was too dense to see!
6484999 I'm happy to go over anything that you'd like to ask about. I'll tell you if it's a spoiler, and if it's something important to the storyline not yet told, I'll hope that you'll understand that i can't tell you what it is, but if it's anything not terribly important, or something that's already been revealed, I'm happy to answer any questions about it
6485253 I'm happy to wait and twiddle my thumbs. Honestly I'm just sorry to have been preoccupied, but I didn't want to get into this latest chapter without giving it my full attention.
6485278 I can respect that.
6509117 It's like I've penned an M. Knight Shyamalan film.
6509668 Unlikely as it seems, it wasn't intentional. She's Script's sister, so I gave her a name that went with his.
Parchment Script.
Pen Stroke.
6510280 The Roaman analogue?
Man, those spirits are dicks.
Yep, they sure are.
History is so fascinating!
6522715 I know, I know. But I regret nothing.
Sounds to me more like Sunset's and Sonata's major beef is gonna have to be with the spirits. Those damn spirits seem to have ruined everything! Wouldn't be surprised if they're the ones who started the Roaman civil war and spread the plague at this rate, either.