Stay with Me, Inspiration!

by FerociousCreation

Moved by Song

It was my turn to be red in the face. The wind tried to cool down my cheeks but did nothing to steady my heart. I heard Feather Wand cry my name as I fell toward the campus. There wasn’t anything to worry about, I wanted to say to him. All that happened was my girly emotions got the best of me and I wanted to fall for a little.

But my inspiration caught up to me, firm in his arms. I didn’t feel Feather catch me, but did feel the pull from his lift. The look of determination and worry plastered on his face made me want to roll out of his grip and fall a little more. I wanted to keep falling and have him catch me over and over. I noted myself to write down the idea as a possible song; wouldn’t want an idea to evade me.

Feather and I returned to our platform for a soft touchdown. But my joints hardened and my fur absorbed his warmth. At least my lips were not stiff. “How come I inspire you?” I asked, not sure why I was something Feather admired.

His shoulders sagged and the hold on me weakened. To my displeasure, it was time to depart from Feather’s embrace. I fussed about the cloud, sinking into it before getting comfortable. “You’d be surprised at how many ponies you wow,” Feather said with a nervous smile.

“By what? My singing?” I roll my eyes in my head, and I was glad they were hidden from my inspiration. “I mean, I know I am good at it, but it is nothing too difficult. All I do is move my voice up and down.”

It brought me great pain to see Feather crease his brows and direct them at me. “What doesn’t inspire is how you put yourself down all the time. Every time somepony compliments you on your amazing voice, what do you do? You say it wasn’t anything special.” He jabbed a hoof at my flank. “Then what is that? What does your cutie mark represent, Songbird? Your name? Your everything?” Feather had to take a breather before continuing his rant about me. “When you move, I see you. When you sing, I hear you! You let the music flood through you like blood in your veins and your voice cries louder than any sonic boom.” He pointed a hoof at his chest. “I want to have your energy in my music. Expression is in your very soul. You take any written song and make it sound better.”

As much as I was enjoying Feather’s praise, I didn’t agree with his final statement. “That last thing you said was wrong.”

“There you go aga-”

“Let me show you what I mean…” I didn’t want to show him the terrible poems of the past, but it was to prove a point. I grabbed my notebook and flipped it open to show Feather how wrong he was. “These poems…” I started, flipping through each page of past failures, “...are results of songs that inspired me to create poems.” Feather’s brows relaxed and his ears pivoted slightly to hear me better. “Beethooven, Sea Basstion Bach, Mozhart, and several others are responsible for assisting me in creating these!” I let out a sigh and confess my style of poetry to Feather. Not once did he make an interjection. It was very sweet of him to listen to me vent, even though I’d rather talk about how amazing he was.

“Well, when you put it that way, I understand why you would say I was wrong.” My ears fell back and I was certain he agreed my poems were something beyond below average. “But!” The exclamation made me twitch. “Heh, sorry…”

“It’s okay,” I simply responded.

Feather looked down at my folder, specifically staring at Forest Lake. “What you did, showing me your old work, is a great step in the right direction.” I tilted my head to express my confusion. “On Friday, I told you that I prefer to let ponies know about what I submit to the club.” I nodded in silence to confirm I was listening. “Because I have done that, I have my poems all laid out so the others can point out consistent errors in what I write.” Feather directed his hoof to my notebook. “After reading everything that was not your song, I’ve come to the conclusion that… you… should perhaps… but it is your choice-” I unveiled my eyes to force out the words. “-stop writing about songs and focus on your own ideas.”

“But why?” I asked. “I want to be the translator for songs without words. I want my words to give meaning. I want my words heard by others. Why else do you think I don’t credit myself when I sing?”

Feather shrugged, “I don’t know what you mean. You are being quite vague.”

I lightly clapped my hooves together as I attempted to reconstruct my next sentence carefully. “I don’t like singing other songs because they are not my songs.”

Feather winced at my excuse. “That seems a bit… in the best way… no… You…” My half-unicorn magic was about to be used, but I knew Feather could speak the truth without my eyes. “It’s selfish to be like that,” he finally said. “Not just to others, but to yourself as well.” I could see the pegasus’ discomfort in being truthful to me. He didn’t need to worry; I needed to hear his criticism. My ears wanted all of Feather’s words. “Do you like music?”

For once, Feather said something stupid. “Of course I do.” I gesture to my notebook with a careless wave. “I just told you about how classical composers are, or at least was, the core structure of my poems.”

“Are there any songs that you do like singing?” Feather asked. He closed my notebook and returned it to me. I glossed over the black and white cover like it had the answer embroidered in the random patterns.

“There are a couple,” I admit in a quiet whisper.

Feather’s smile came back to his cool face. “Then I am sure that just because those songs are not written by you, they inspire you on a different level.”

“Well… aside from you, there are singers who do just that.” Admitting to Feather he was an inspiration to me a second time was not as nerve-wracking, but it didn’t make me clammer.

“And what do they inspire you to do…?”

“To want to write my own songs.”

A blue hoof touched Feather’s chest. “And singers like you make me hope that someday, a wonderful pony with an amazing voice would choose my song and perform it.”

What a strange and lovely world Equestria was. My dear inspiration was somepony I inspired. And it did make me think about how my singing wowed my fellow chorus members. That just left one question. “Why should I stop writing about songs? Nopony will know about classical music pieces if I don’t rescue them from obscurity.”

Feather’s brows creased, the gears in his head turning slowly. “Do your poems make you happy in the end?” he asked.

My defense for my older poems fell to the ground. “Not… really…” I had to really think about my answer and be sure none of my poems made me happy. “I mean, except for the one I finished writing over the weekend. I really love that one.”

“Then what do you think would be the best choice for you to do?” Feather asked, his voice begging me to make the right choice.

Part of me did not want to let go of my old style despite the misery it brought. “Instead of writing poems on classical music, I can write about what I see when I listen to them with simple sentences.”

My suggestion got Feather thinking as well. “And! Maybe you can write about how it makes you feel. Perhaps how it makes you move, too.” His mood quickly became excited. “Have you ever had a song that made you want to dance a certain way?”

The same spark I felt when I wrote my song tickle my heart. “Yes! Like Sea Basstian Bach’s Toccata and Fugue makes me feel like I am on a carousel, going up and down. And when I do sing a few of our choir songs I like, they make me want to fly.”

Feather nodded in agreement with me. “You allow the music to move through you and take control.” My inspiration flushed and his ears flopped backward. “I have watched you from afar bob your head to pop music before. I am sure whatever you were listening to has made you want to dance at some point.”

“Yes, it has.”

“Then maybe that cutie mark of yours is more than just a cloud and six hearts!” Feather said, with a point of his hoof at my flank. “I think you can do more than with just write songs. When others hear you sing, they hear confidence. When I see you carried away in a song that it moves you, I see… I see… somepony who…”

I finally understood why Feather Wand was so flustered when I told him he inspired me. I felt sorry for him as he struggled to say the right words. “You see somepony inspired by music.”

“Y-yeah, that,” he nodded nervously. "And it would be wonderful to have somepony like you taken away by my music." Feather wiped his face and tried to get rid of the red off his cheeks. His cute act only made me blush. I wondered if our future conversations would be awkward and embarrassing, considering how we both inspire one another. Clearing his throat, Feather regained his composure. “Like I said, your cutie mark is more than just what is on your hip. It symbolises the potential yet to be unlocked from within you. I truly believe that, Songbird. You were born to fly. So fly with my suggestions. Write about how a song makes you feel and what you see. But also write poems or songs that make you feel a certain way.” Feather picked up my song and pointed to it. “I am sure you wrote this because you were afraid of losing your love for poetry.”

“Yes,” I answered. “But I think I found it again.” Happy with how helpful my inspiration had helped me, I wrapped my forelegs around him and gave a gentle squeeze. “Thank you, Feather.” I didn’t feel him move or try to hug me back, which concerned me.

I looked at Feather to see his eyes wide and his blue-azurite face flared with red. “Are you okay?” I ask as I let go of him. To my horror, Feather Wand fell off the cloud!

Comments

[Doctor Disco]

You have yet to disappoint. This story is definitely going into my favourites when it's done!

And the fluff just brings a smile to my face. Good job!

Also, 1 day 'til the movie! Woo!

[FerociousCreation]

When I saw the word "disappoint" I was like, "The story is horrible! It's getting deleted!" But your comment made me smile.

I hope to finish the story tomorrow.