Truthseeker

by RB_

Downtime 2

“’Just for one day,’ you said?”

“Oh shush,” Lyra said, dragging the trunk of instruments out from the back of the classroom.

It was Monday again, and Lyra had gotten up early to go to the schoolhouse. After her morning cup of coffee, of course, and after reading through the morning’s paper.

She’d spent most of the previous week working on Hollyleaf’s case, and watching the newspapers for any odd happenings. She’d been avoiding spending too much time in the basement however, Octavia’s words echoing in her mind every time she went down there. Still no new leads, but at least she was ready for them if they came.

But today was Music Monday, and that meant she was off-duty. She banished all thoughts of the mystery mare from her mind, and turned it to the day’s curriculum, and to the other problem that had been plaguing her all week.

She and Octavia got all the instruments out and on their respective desks, discussing what they were going to teach that day as they worked. After some time, the students came filing in, and the lesson began. This time, at Lyra’s suggestion, they stuck to slower pieces.

After what felt to Lyra like no time at all, it was time for the class’ lunch and recess break. Cheerilee and Octavia had both gone outside already, but Lyra was lingering behind. She watched as Winter Bell carefully put her bells back into their cloths, then grabbed her lunch and began to go.

“Winter Bell,” she said as the filly was about to trot out the door, “can I talk to you for a bit?”

Winter Bell stopped, her lunchbag swinging from her mouth. She glanced left, right, then walked over.

“What’s up?”

She glanced around again. “Is this about, uh…”

“Nope,” Lyra said, levitating out her own lunch and sitting down. “Just normal, everyday talking about normal, everyday things.”

“Oh, okay.”

They both put out their own lunches; Lyra’s a daisy and peanut butter sandwich, and Bell’s a cucumber and daffodils, cut into triangles. Triangles which, after Bell had glanced around for a third time, lifted themselves up to her mouth to the accompaniment of a quiet bellchime.

“So,” Lyra said, between bites, “Hoofbells.”

“What about them?”

“Well, you play them pretty well, for starters,” Lyra said.

The filly shrugged. “They’re just hoofbells. They aren’t that hard to play.”

“Hey, don’t sell yourself short! Those things take a surprising amount of coordination. You know, they used to make us practice with bells at Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns?”

“What?”

“Yeah! For training our telekinesis with multiple objects.”

“No, I knew that,” Bell said. “You went to Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns?”

“I did! For a while, anyway. Is it really that surprising?”

Winter Bell raised an eyebrow.

“…Anyway,” Lyra said, “you’re doing pretty well. Especially given how you’re playing them.”

“What do you mean?” Winter bell asked.

“You know what I mean.” Lyra popped the last of her sandwich into her mouth, chewed, swallowed. “Winter Bell, why aren’t you using your magic?”

The filly fidgeted about in her chair. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Come on,” Lyra said. “You of all ponies should know better than to lie to me. What’s up? Not enough control? Too much power?”

“The… opposite,” she mumbled.

“Not enough?”

“…Yeah.”

Lyra snorted, and Winter bell gave her the stink eye. “Sorry, sorry,” she said, holding her hooves up in a gesture of appeasement. “It’s just funny that the second most magical filly I’ve ever known can’t even lift a sandwich.”

“Second?”

“I went to school with Twilight Sparkle.”

“Oh.” Winter Bell grimaced. “It’s just… so much harder, you know?”

“No, I don’t know,” Lyra said. “Explain it to me?”

Winter Bell leaned back in her chair and looked up at the ceiling. “It’s like… It’s like, with my normal magic, Momma’s magic, it doesn’t take any effort?”

A tone filled the air, and her bell bag lifted into the air. More notes added to it, and the bag’s contents raised out and flew over to her, landing softly on the desk.

“It’s just… really easy for me,” she continued. “Everything has its own music, its own soul, and with Momma’s help, I can hear them, and then all I have to do is copy the note in my own song…”

The bells rose and rang in sequence, playing the first few notes of the Hearth’s Warming Carol. It would have been perfect, were it not for the filly’s own magic playing clashing notes in the background.

“…and I can control it, and I can even do weird things that most unicorn magic can’t do…”

One of the notes changed, and one of the bells changed from silver to brass for a few notes.

“…and it just works.”

“I see. And with your unicorn magic?”

The bells dropped down onto the desk.

“Like I’m trying to break through a brick wall with just my head.” She sighed. “Everypony says I just have to give it time, that it’ll come to me eventually. Even Momma.”

“But ‘eventually’ isn’t coming fast enough, is it.”

“No,” she said. “It’s not.”

Lyra sighed. She sat up in her chair, adjusting to a more unusual sitting position.

“What’s with that?” Winter Bell asked.

“It’s for this,” Lyra replied. Lighting her horn, she lifted over her own instrument, resting it against her underbelly. She began to play, plucking the strings with her horn in no real order.

“When I was your age,” she said, “I also had problems with my magic.

“My problem was with control. I could pick things up just fine, even better than most other fillies my age. Except Twilight Sparkle, of course, but I hadn’t met her yet. But if I tried to grab anything delicate…”

She plucked three strings together to form a broken chord. Winter Bell winced.

“This was before I’d gotten my cutie mark, and before I’d even thought about Celestia’s school. Everypony around me told me that I would learn control in time.

“And then,” Lyra said, “I got my lyre.”

“You can play the lyre with hooves, of course,” she said, doing so for a few notes. “And that was how I learned. But it’s a unicorn instrument for a reason.”

“Chords?” Winter Bell said.

“Among other things, yeah. Eventually, I got to a point where I couldn’t keep going without using magic. And I had to keep going; the lyre was my calling, even if I didn’t know it yet. So, one summer, I decided I was going to do it. I was going to learn to play the lyre with magic.

“I went through a lot of strings that summer. My parents started buying them for me in bulk.”

Winter bell giggled. “And…?”

“By the end of it,” Lyra said, “I didn’t have to worry about buying new strings anymore. That’s around the same time I got my cutie mark, actually. But guess what?”

“What?”

Lyra smiled. “I didn’t have to worry about breaking anything delicate anymore, either.

“Sometimes, Winter Bell, you can’t just sit around and wait for things to happen. Sometimes you need to make them happen for yourself. Sometimes you just have to sit down and practice the things you aren’t good at yet.”

She played a few final notes and laid her lyre down.

“It sure beats waiting around.”

─────

Lunchtime ended, and they went back to the music.

“You’re doing great, Winter Bell!” Lyra said. The filly was still playing with her mouth, but now, her horn was lit. A gentle blue glow appeared around each bell’s handle in sequence as she worked, and though they didn’t move, it was clear that she was trying.

Snickering, behind her.

“I don’t know what you three are laughing at,” Lyra said, spinning around. “You two have hit maybe three right notes between you,” she said, pointing at the violinists, and then to the drummer, “and you haven’t been on tempo since the first measure!”

A lot of frantic playing and more than a bit of giggling ensued.

Comments

[TheStratovarian]

Now this is just heartwarming, and heart melting.

[Maxes Altho]

thumbs.dreamstime.com/b/hanging-shoes-overhead-line-31936544.jpg
previews.123rf.com/images/feedough/feedough1201/feedough120100178/12076935-young-business-man-looking-up-on-white-background.jpg
...
Hmm? Oh, don't mind me. Just waiting for it to drop, is all.