Sonata's Ocean

by RB_

Low Tide

The pounding on the door was sudden, unexpected, and only barely audible over the rain.

Sunset laid down her cards—she was positive it was a winning hand—and looked over towards the door.

"Who could that be? It's almost midnight."

"Well whoever they are, they do seem very eager to come in," Rarity said. A flash of lightening lit Sunset's apartment, followed so closely by a clap of thunder that they might have overlapped. "Not that I can blame them on a night like tonight." The forecast had said that the skies would be clear all week, and the forecast had been wrong.

Sighing, Sunset pushed herself to her feet and headed towards the door, taking care not to trip over Pinkie’s and Rainbow's legs on the way. The knocking was more insistent now.

"You'd better answer it fast," Pinkie said. "Or else you might need to buy a new door!"

Sunset chuckled. She tried to look through the door's peephole, but it was too dark. She opened the door.

Upon her doorstep stood Aria Blaze, drenched and scowling. Adagio stood behind her, similarly drenched. A bandage sat over her right eyebrow.

"Sunset Shimmer," Aria said. "We—ugh."

She grimaced.

"We need your help."

---

The sun’s light shimmered off her wet scales as she slipped back above the surface, rivulets of water running along her tail as she leapt into the air.

The ocean stretched out in all directions, clear and calm. The sun was warm against her back. The salt in the air burned her nostrils, and it was good.

She fell back into the ocean, snout first, angling herself so that she slipped into the water without making a splash. The momentum carried her down, and she looked up at the sky from under the water. She had no fear; she had gills.

A school of fish swam past her; she snapped her neck out and caught one in her needle teeth. It slid easily down her gullet. She dove a little bit deeper, her long tail propelling her forward. She wanted to leap again, but she needed more speed, so she kept diving down.

But the water below was darker, far darker than it should have been.

She turned away and looked back to the ocean’s surface, suffused with sunlight that didn’t carry far enough.

“Miss Dusk!”

A voice rippled through the water, murky and distorted. She looked about, trying to see where it had come from.

“Miss Dusk!”

The water became choppy, tossing her about—

"Miss Dusk!"

Sonata opened her eyes slowly. Something red and blurry blocked her view. She blinked, and it came into focus: a mustache. A very angry looking mustache—no, that was the person attached to it.

“Miss Sonata, we do not pay you to sleep on the job,” her boss said.

“That’s right,” her other boss said. “It’s bad for business!”

“And what’s bad for business is bad for us!”

“That’s our motto!”

Sonata stretched her arms out, yawned, and tried her best to remember what Moustache’s name was. It was hard to tell her two bosses apart; the only identifying features between the two were the first’s moustache and the pins on their lapels, and that didn’t make it any easier to match names to their faces.

“I’m sorry, sir,” she said, giving up on the endeavor. “It won’t hap—”

She yawned. “—happen again!”

“See that it doesn’t,” the one without a moustache said.

The one with a moustache nodded. “Or else you won’t be seeing your paycheck!”

She apologized again as the two brothers returned to the back of the store, Moustache giving her a pointed look as he slammed the rear door shut. Sonata sighed and slumped down into a more reasonable posture.

She didn’t see what the big deal was; there weren’t any customers around for her to help. People barely ever came to the pawn shop anyway, and never more than once.

Still, she supposed she ought to be grateful. The brothers had been willing to give her a job when no one else would, even if they were paying her less for it. Work was work, after all, or at least that’s what Bare Lip kept telling her.

So, she put on her best fake smile, stood up straight, and waited for a customer to come in. For a few minutes anyway, before her thoughts began drifting back to the ocean.

Sonata thought about the ocean a lot. It had been a long time since she’d last seen it, at least in real life. Canterlot City was almost twenty miles inland from the coast, and Sonata didn’t have a car. Aria used to have one, a truck, and sometimes when she’d been in a good mood she would drive them to the beach for a day.

But Adagio had made her sell it for rent money, and it had been a long time since Aria had been in a good mood. Sonata’s hand slipped absentmindedly upwards, to the naked spot around her neck.

Then, she blinked. She’d seen something, off to the side—a flash of light? She wasn’t sure.

Sparing a quick glance to the back room’s door, she got out from behind the counter and approached the shelf the flash had come from. It was full of the same sort of junk that covered the rest of the store: an old wooden chess set (pieces painted red and blue), a baseball (signed, Sonata wasn’t sure by who), a watch (either broken or not set, probably the former), and…

A little scallop shell, mounted on a choker.

Sonata reached down towards the necklace. Her fingers tingled as they brushed against the shell, like the thing was carrying a static charge. Picking it up, she examined it. The shell was held to the cloth by a small length of wire. It looked handmade. It was just her size, too.

She swallowed. She could hear, faintly, the sound of waves crashing against the shore. She could taste, barely, the salt-laced air of the sea.

Sonata looked again to the door to the back room. Then, quickly but with care not to damage it, she slipped the necklace into her pocket.

---

The lock to the Dazzling’s apartment was an old one, tarnished and scratched, and it took Aria a few tries to get it open.

“Come on you stupid—aha!” she said as the thing finally turned. Pushing the door open, she dropped the plastic bag she’d been carrying onto the floor. She closed the door again, and locked it.

Then, she walked over to the couch against the far wall and collapsed onto it, face down into the cushions. They smelt slightly of dog. The whole apartment smelt slightly of dog.

Adagio was working late that night, which meant that Aria had the apartment to herself until Sonata got back, and that wouldn’t be for another hour at least. As was usual for days like today, she’d made plans, and as usual she was going to forego them.

She rolled over onto her back, keeping her eyes closed. The grease stains on her jeans made new friends on the upholstery.

At some point she must have drifted off, because the scraping of the tumblers in the front door’s lock woke her up.

Aria opened her eyes, blinked. She took a deep breath in through her nostrils; the air smelled faintly of dog, and of the Chinese food she’d forgotten to put in the fridge when she’d come in. Perfect.

The door opened, finally, and Sonata pushed her way in.

“Hey.”

“Yo.”

“Ooh, is that Chinese?” Sonata said, kicking the door shut behind her. “It smells like Chinese.”

“Pay day. Didn’t want to cook.”

Sonata grabbed the bag and carried it over to their little table. “Oh. Good!” she said, pulling out the first of the steaming cartons.

Aria opened one eye. “What was that?”

Sonata looked at her with that blank smile of hers. “I was worried I’d have to eat another Aria Surprise tonight. Your cooking is terrible.”

Aria snorted. “At least I’m allowed to use the stove, Miss Oven-Baked-Popcorn. Pass me a spring roll.”

“Hey, that wasn’t my fault! The bag said, ‘Microwave Oven’.” A spring roll changed hands. “They should have made their packaging less confusing.”

“Whatever, doofus.” She took a bite out of the end of the roll. It was lukewarm, but still good. She could hear Sonata dishing food out for herself. The microwave beeped as she set it going, humming obnoxiously as it always did. The food did smell nice, though.

“When’s Adagio getting back?” Sonata asked.

“No idea.”

“Oh.”

Aria finished off the last of her spring roll. Then, groaning, she rolled off the couch.

Sonata had amassed a heaping pile of rice and noodles, and was attempting to dig in with a pair of chopsticks. She wasn’t having much success.

“Is that my lo mein?”

Sonata paused, a dangling clump of noodles halfway to her face. “I didn’t see your name on it.”

Her chopsticks slipped, dumping the food back onto her plate. “Aww…”

Aria grabbed a box of rice and what was left of the lo mein off the counter and dumped it onto a plate. She didn’t bother microwaving hers, instead grabbing a fork and sitting down at the folding piece of plastic that was their kitchen table.

“Come on!” Sonata said, her chopsticks slipping again. A piece of shrimp rolled across the table; Aria speared it with her fork.

“Why do you even use chopsticks if you’re so bad at them?” Aria asked, popping the shrimp into her mouth. They’d always tasted different on this side of the mirror.

“I’m not bad with them, they’re just—ack—being difficult today!”

“That’s because you’re holding them wrong, doofus.” Aria reached into the bag, pulled out another pair of chopsticks, broke them, and held them properly. “You’re supposed to do it like this.”

Sonata looked at Aria’s example, then at her own pair. “Oh,” she said after a moment, fixing her grip. “Thanks!”

Aria grunted.

“So, how was work?”

“Same as always,” Aria said. “Did you actually manage to sell anything today?”

“Nope.” Sonata sighed, grabbing a roll of noodles with her chopsticks. “No customers.”

“You’re probably scaring them off.”

Sonata’s face scrunched up. “It’s not me! It’s because everything we sell is junk!”

“Well,” Aria said, “At least they’re paying you to do nothing.”

“Yeah,” Sonata said. She brought her food up to her mouth and went to take a bite, and with a splat, the noodles dropped back onto her plate.

Aria laughed as Sonata gave up and grabbed a fork.

---

Sonata laid down on her bed. It wasn’t much, just an inflatable air mattress, but it was better than the bare floor. Adagio had taken the real bed, of course, and Aria had called dibs on the unfolding sofa. On her first night in the apartment, Sonata had tried to get cosy on a pile of cushions. She’d demanded they buy the air mattress the next morning.

Sonata smiled. She didn’t mind the air mattress, really. She liked the way it sank under her when she laid on it, and the way it moved when she rolled over. Some nights, when she was feeling restless, she would close her eyes and pretend she was floating in the middle of a vast sea, the sun warming her face and the water moving gently under her. It never failed to help her sleep.

She thought she might have to do that tonight, and that reminded her of the necklace.

She fished the thing out of her pocket and held it up to the ceiling. She could feel the same tingle she’d felt in the shop, only now it was stronger, more personal. Sonata wasn’t quite sure why that was the word she’d settled on, but it felt right. The thing seemed to shimmer in the light.

She smiled. This, she decided, was a lucky charm. Her lucky charm. Her bosses could jump in a lake for all she cared.

Her luck would change soon. She was sure of it.

She held the thing to her chest and closed her eyes.

That night, Sonata dreamt of the ocean.

Comments

[NebulaNyx]

I have to say, so dar I am impresed. This is really interesting.