Chapter 57: The Last Dance
Trot down the sidewalk at a healthy clip, reach the intersection between the districts and the castle, and take a left down the slope towards the Middle District without a second thought. Fancy just had to keep a healthy pace to kick off his morning routine, or more accurately, his only routine. With less than nothing on his plate, he was finally able to breathe easily, though that might’ve been the exercise paying off. He figured his suit jackets would fit better these days if he found a reason to wear them.
Per his route, he passed through the residential district, his hooves clip-clopping along the cobblestones to the beat of the same music that kept him going day in and day out. He couldn’t remember how to switch the songs out of his player—it’d taken him a good hour the first day to remember how to even turn the Möbi-beats on—so he’d been listening to the few songs he had for almost a month. Luckily, he still enjoyed the selection Vinyl had put into the gemstone, especially the DJ Pon-3 originals. Even in their mostly unfinished state, the mare’s compositions were captivating. He’d listened to them so often during his jog, he could time the beats of his route to the music.
The streets were clear, just like always, as he entered the park to watch the sunrise. Spring was in full swing now. Rolling grasses were dotted with mountain flowers in full bloom, painting the natural gardens in beautiful pastel colors that matched the daybreaking sky. With the Amame Mucho remix starting to play in his ears, Fancy waited at his favorite spot to watch another day begin.
“I guess I’m a little early,” he muttered to himself after a few moments. “That or Luna’s struggling with the sun again.”
Instead of trotting in place, Fancy parked himself on a nearby bench and waited for the show to start once more. The song in his ears had become one of his favorites on the crystal, both for its artistry and the fond memories carried with it. When he closed his eyes, he could still see Vinyl dressed in that ancient athleisure wear, trotting next to him listening along. He might’ve missed the sunrise that day, but her smile cresting over her scarf more than made up for it. Not even his old fantasies of his supposed perfect life could hold a candle to Vinyl’s brilliant light. He wished he could see it again. More than anything.
As his father’s dulcet tones continued alongside DJ Pon-3’s signature style, the sun finally rose over the horizon. It was as beautiful as always, casting its glowing rays across a slowly waking Equestria, but he’d already lost interest in the little orb’s mundane glory. He leaned back and looked up towards the open skies, letting his mind wander. The last vestiges of night were chased away by the daylight, revealing an empty expanse of blue above him. A vast void of nothing. Fancy felt he could relate.
There was nothing for him now. No plans to make, no schedule to keep, no rush to anywhere, everything was open before him. Fancy could fling himself away on an airship to attend any event imaginable. Nothing would stop him from going on an endless vacation across the world until he’d spent every bit to his name or died trying. He could fill his sky with any and all manner of pleasures, but none caught his interest. The only empty space worth filling was the one next to him on the bench.
He closed his eyes and listened to the music filling his head. Beyond it, all was quiet. The park, the sky, the sunrise were as silent as his mansion. Fleur and Éclair had left with Vinyl, taking what they could fit in their home above Pâte de Lune while Fancy held onto the rest for now. The bedroom, the studio, and the collection belonged to Vinyl anyway as far as he was concerned. They could use the space however they wanted. He had no better use for it.
Part of him hoped the noise would come back. Fancy daydreamed of waking up one morning to the rhythmic pulses of an artist at work. It was the same part of him that wanted to go on more jogs with her, to share a warm drink with her in the study, and to sit together on a bench in the park to watch the sunrise. It was the same part that refused to let his heart harden again, no matter how hard he tried. It yearned for that uncertain future which he couldn’t see like the stars obscured behind the blue sky above him.
A-ma-me,
A-ma-me mucho…
Kiss me my darling and keep your heart closer…
To mine.
Fancy waited, letting the song play out as the electro-kissed tango drew to a close once again. Before the next in the playlist began, he double-tapped the left earphone, restarting Amame Mucho from the beginning. He could afford to listen to it a few more times. After all, there was nowhere he needed to go.
“There you are,” Dapper said as Fancy stepped through the front door. The fastidious butler offered him a sweat towel. “You forgot this.”
“Thank you, Dapper, but it was just a quick jog.” Fancy dabbed the sweat from his brow. “You didn’t have to wait for me.”
“Quick you say?” The old stallion chortled. “Then you can understand my worry, considering it is half past noon now.”
“Is it?” Fancy pondered aloud as he checked the time on a nearby clock. “So it is. I suppose I missed lunch again?”
“It’s nothing that needs warming,” Dapper assured. “I simply whipped up a few sandwiches today. Feel free to peruse at your leisure whenever you’re hungry.”
“Leisure,” Fancy sighed to himself as he started making his way towards the study. “It seems all I have left is leisure these days.”
“Seeing that you’ve stepped back from both business and politics, I’m inclined to agree. Perhaps you should take up a hobby?”
“I’ll take it under advisement.”
“I’d urge you to take it more seriously. You’ve done nothing since the signing of the Crystalline Accords. A driven stallion such as yourself doesn’t do well resting on his laurels. Idle hooves and all those other clichés.”
Fancy slowly pulled the towel over his face as he finished cleaning himself off. “I can assure you that I’m not resting on anything, Dapper. If you’re this concerned about it, I can ask Celestia and Luna for some advice later at high tea.”
“That’s tomorrow, sir,” the butler corrected.
“Tomorrow?” Fancy furrowed his brow in thought. “Then today is Tuesday?”
Dapper shook his head. “I’m sorry, but it’s Thursday, sir.” He took a step forward and leaned over his younger ward. “If I may be so bold, one might suggest that it’s not a sign of a healthy mind for the days to blur together.”
“It’s nothing you need to worry about,” Fancy dismissed.
“It’s precisely all that nothing of yours which I find so greatly concerning,” Dapper pressed without missing a beat. “It’s been weeks since you’ve done anything more than jog or attend royal tea parties. Might I suggest talking to Princess Luna about joining that Truth and Reconciliation Council you told me about?”
“It’s a commission, not a council,” Fancy clarified, as if the distinction mattered. He rested his makeshift sweat towel over the back of his neck. “Besides, my talents lie in revealing potential fates, not investigating the past.”
“I suppose you’re correct, but it’s hard to imagine your insights being unwelcome. You’re one of the closest living ponies to her former highness, so you may be able to help her feel more comfortable opening up. ‘History is her story’ as they say.”
“But Celestia has also tasked them with reconciling her ‘crimes against Harmony’ in any way they see fit. Ignoring the fact that her meddling with my mother’s fate would make me a potential victim, our decades of friendship would require me to recuse myself from almost any judgment to be delivered.”
“Be that as it may, there doesn’t seem to be much occurring in your immediate future as of late. Perhaps a bit of purposeful navel-gazing into the past would be preferable to all the nothing you’ll be doing later today.”
Fancy sighed sharply from the mounting irritation. “I would prefer to forgive, forget, and move on from the past, both ancient and recent. In fact, I would appreciate moving on from this line of questioning, Mister Dapper.”
“I shall take it under advisement, sir.”
Fancy held his tongue, not wanting to lose a battle of wit with the quippy dandy. “Thank you. Now, if that is all, I would like to sample some of your sandwiches.”
“Right away, sir.” The butler opened the door to the study. “By the way, I took the liberty of sorting your mail while you were gone.”
Fancy nodded as he walked in. “Much appreciated, my good stallion. I’ll be sure to toss the extra kindling into the fire.”
“Already done and burning. The important mail is on your desk.” Dapper offered a deep bow before turning his attention towards the kitchen. Before Fancy could enter the room, Dapper quickly looked back. “Oh, and I suggest you read the top letter immediately. The young lady who delivered it said it was time-sensitive.”
“Thank you, Dapper.”
His curiosity piqued, Fancy trotted over to his desk to see what the morning’s fuss was about. His withdrawal from high society had been largely ignored thanks to Celestia’s abdication completely usurping any other stories. His letterbox was still filling up with ignored invitations and offers, though the stacks were getting noticeably smaller over time. Before he’d gotten close, he noticed a peculiarly pink missive resting on top of the stack of letters. He could clearly read the fine cursive reading “Pantsy” across the front. Fancy immediately fired his aura around the letter, carefully cutting the seal to reveal the message. As he unfolded it, a small card fell out. He ignored the insert and began to read.
Dear Pantsy,
P.S. You’re an idiot. A huge, mondo, stupid dumb-dumb. On a scale of one to ten, you’re an “F” for frikin moron.
I just wanted to write that prescript first. If I didn’t, I wasn’t going to be able to write this letter without it spilling into it, and I wanted to actually convince you to show up for once. Tonight—yes TONIGHT, tonight—I am cordially inviting you to my Practical Defense Presentation for my Continued Research into Vocal Modulation and Modification Enchantments at Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns. Why? Because you probably wouldn’t come otherwise. I bet you threw the event notice in the fire with the rest of your mail, Respected Contributor to the Institution.
Fancy glanced up at the roaring fire, burning with a stack of letters that likely contained said reminders. He muttered “Fair enough,” to himself before continuing to read.
I was debating whether or not to invite you at all. You’ve never come any of the other times I have, but you said you were sorry and that you’ve changed. I’m still angry at you, but I think it’s less for everything that happened and more that I haven’t seen you since you helped get Vinyl out of that harmony-forsaken Hades-hole. (Learned that last one from Athena!
) I wanted to say thank you for that, so thanks.
I actually came today to say it to your face, but you were still on your jog. Maybe I just have bad timing, or maybe you’re just avoiding me. I’m not going to lie, I was kind of hoping you were running away so I’d have a reason to give up on you, but after talking to the others, I don’t think that’s what’s going on. Fluffs says you haven’t been taking good care of yourself, and Dapper was telling me that he can barely get you out of the mansion these days, except for very long jogs apparently. They sounded really worried about you, and I guess I am too now.
So, this is it. This little letter I’m hoping you walk in on me writing is your second last chance. You know where it is. The times on the invitation. Just be there, alright? For once, please. You don’t have to do anything more than just sit there and listen while Vinyl and I do our thing. It’d really mean a lot to me, and probably the world to her if you came. I know I just do silly voices with crystals, but Vy’s really got something special planned for the panel.
So do it. Be there. Tonight. I know you’re free. Please.
Your tentatively loving sister,
Fleur de LisP.S. How are you still not back yet? It took me an hour to write this!
P.S.S. I found a thesaurus. Idiot. Moron. Stupid. Featherhead. (Feels a little racist, but okay.) FOOL!!! Dimwit. Dumbbell. Dunce. Ignoramus. (That word is living its best life.) Imbecile. Pinhead. Clod. And that’s it. See you tonight or else!
“I see you found the letter,” Dapper remarked, drawing Fancy’s attention away from it. He was carrying a small plate with several garden sandwiches and a thermos on his back.
“Yes, I did.” Fancy watched as the old butler set the plate down on the desk and unscrewed the cap to pour a cup of water in its lid. “Is there a reason for the curious choice of container?”
“I wasn’t sure when you’d be back, so I made sure the meal was portable in the event you needed to rush out the door. Fortunately for you though, you have plenty of time to eat and wash up before tonight.”
“I see.”
Fancy lifted the invitation from the floor and turned it over to inspect it. It was no bigger than a business card, bearing the seal of the school along with the time and date of the presentations in the Solarium Lecture Theater. It was good for one reserved seat for a friend or family member of the presenters. Such things were unnecessary for ponies like him. Celestia’s school and the Society were the only places he still gave to after purging the rest of his bank accounts. While he didn’t need the little slip to attend, it felt wrong to turn down a heartfelt invitation.
“Tell me, Dapper; what would you have done had I said I wasn’t going to go?”
“It’s nothing you need to worry about, sir.”
“And I thought my version of nothing was concerning. Coming from you, I’m considering notifying the princess.” Fancy chuckled to himself and took a bite out of his sandwich.
“Who’s to say her Lunar Highness doesn’t already know?”
Fancy’s chewing slowed as he turned his discerning eye to Dapper. “Please. I wasn’t gone that long.”
“As I said, it’s nothing you need to worry about.”
The old stallion’s steady and stubborn neutrality was only second to Celestia’s pacifying smile when it came to bluffs. Unlike her former highness, Dapper had the added benefit of his copious facial hair and eyebrows to hide behind, providing the perfect natural mask. Fancy swallowed the lump in his throat along with the bite of his sandwich, having no way to tell how serious the butler was being.
“Shall I run the bath for you?” Dapper asked, breaking the silence that had settled between the two.
“No need,” Fancy said as he downed the cap and grabbed his lunch to-go. “A quick shower will more than suffice.”
“Very good, sir.”
Fancy Pants adjusted his glasses as he trotted gingerly towards the school. The oncoming evening had brought a gentle chill to the mountain air. It made perfect weather for the sweater he’d chosen to wear. Still, he couldn’t help but feel underdressed. As far as Fancy could recall, the last time he’d attended anything in Canterlot without a suit was before his ambassadorship.
The prestigious campus came into view, fully lit to welcome everypony to the evening’s practical presentations. While he’d never gone, Fancy understood it to be one of the more popular academic events. Setting aside Celestia’s usual attendance, there was always a chance to glimpse the bleeding edge of innovations in magic which attracted discerning researchers and investors alike.
“Fancy Pants?”
Hearing a friendly voice cut through the din brought a smile to Fancy’s face. He turned to see the prim and proper Octavia Melody trotting towards the school gates, sporting her usual pink bowtie. The mare’s modest attire sent a slight wave of relief shot through him as he pulled at his turtleneck collar.
“Octavia! What a pleasant surprise.”
“It is you!” she gasped in astonishment. “My goodness, it’s been ages.”
“Not quite by my reckoning. There was the summit last month if you recall.”
“I do remember, but it’s been quite a while since we’ve actually spoken without any business getting in the way.”
“I can’t argue that.” Fancy looked around and up for any sign of her batty beau. “Are you ‘flying solo’ as it were tonight?”
“Yes and no. Steeple is here, but he was invited as an expert panelist for one of the presenters at the last minute. He’s been very excited about it in his usual way. For three weeks and two days straight.” There was the slightest sliver of a twitch in the mare’s eye. She cleared her throat and swept the irritation away. “I’m surprised you hadn’t heard.”
“I believe the last time I spoke to him was at the Performer Showcases.”
“I know. You seem to be less available recently. More so than usual.”
“Well, you know. Business keeps us all busy,” he deflected.
“I’m very aware of just how busy you’ve been recently.” Octavia craned her head to the side, her eyes running down this side. “Are you doing alright?”
“Never better,” he assured with a diplomatic smile.
Octavia returned it with a practiced smile of her own. “I can tell. You seem to have dropped a bit of weight since I last saw you.”
“Really? I thought the sweater was fitting a bit better this evening.”
“Considerably so,” she noted pointedly with a raise of an eyebrow. “Even your face is thinner. I’d go so far as to say gaunt.”
“I’m sure it’s just age starting to get to me. Nothing to worry about.”
“You know, you’re always welcome to visit Steeple and I for a bite to eat. Steeple is a wonderful cook when he isn’t falling over himself.”
“I appreciate the offer, Octavia, but—”
“I insist, Fancy,” she pressed firmly, dropping all pretense of polite conversation. “While your retreat from high society might’ve gotten a little lost in the shuffle, we’ve definitely noticed your absence.”
Fancy sighed to himself. “Seems like all I can do is make ponies worry about me these days.”
Octavia’s face softened in understanding. “Reminds me of another mutual friend of ours.” She turned towards the school and pointed at the entrance. “Speaking of, the first presentation will start in about twenty minutes. We should probably start heading that way.”
Fancy smiled in kind as they made their way towards the event. “Good idea. I wouldn’t want to miss a single question from your husband.”
“Oh yes. Harmony forbid we miss a single one of those,” she said with a generous roll of her eyes. “We’d never hear the end of it.”
“Who’s the we in this situation?”
“You, obviously.” She nodded resolutely with a proud smirk. “If you didn’t want to risk being roped into his nonsense, you should’ve stayed home.”
Fancy laughed a couple of times before sighing. “While tempting, tonight is too important to spend at home. Besides, my schedule was rather light today.”
“If it remains that way, you should consider squeezing a detour to our house into your morning routine. We’ve got plenty of coffee and oatmeal to keep you fueled up for your trot around the park.”
“I’ll be sure to take you up on your kind offer,” Fancy answered honestly as he opened the door for his dear friend. “Sooner rather than later.”
The two entered the venerated school and began their short trek to the lecture theater. Fancy was familiar with the layout, but not enough to know where each room was. Luckily, the staff had the foresight to light the way by shutting off the lamps in unnecessary areas. As he drew closer, he was surprised to find more than just a few ponies waiting to head inside. There were a few familiar faces among them, like Baron Bucksaplenty and Lofty Heights, but one stood out from the crowd. While her flowing Imperial finery sparkled with a lavender jade that matched her the color of eyes, his attention was captured more by the contempt burning within them.
“I see you’ve finally decided to grace us with your presence, Fancy Pants,” Upper Crust spat loud enough to call attention to him.
Fancy took a deep breath through his nose, begging Harmony for patience he no longer had. “Good evening everypony. Seeking to capitalize on some upcoming talent?”
“Obviously. It’d be a waste of time otherwise,” Lofty said with a shrug, briefly catching the firm gaze of Octavia. “It’s true for ponies like us. Why else would we be here?”
“I could take a shot in the dark, but I’d rather not jump to conclusions,” Fancy answered, keeping his eyes trained on Upper Crust the entire time.
Upper Crust scoffed and turned her nose up. “While I’ve appreciated your educated guesses in the past, I’m not very interested in hearing what you have to say.”
“The feeling is mutual, just as long as I don’t read about it in tomorrow’s paper.”
“Now, let’s remain civil. We’re all aware of her penchant for milking media attention out of anything, thanks to how far she pushed her luck with you,” Bucksaplenty answered with a dash of ire towards the mare. The large unicorn ignored the Upper Crust’s irritation and kept his attention on Fancy. “It’s honestly surprising to see you here. You never showed an interest in attending whenever I asked you.”
“I’ve always appreciated the gesture, Baron Bucksaplenty, but the opportunities here have always leaned too heavily on the theoretical for my liking. I can assure you though, I have no desire to do any kingmaking tonight. I was invited by Fleur de Lis,” Fancy explained as he produced his ticket.
Upper Crust pursed her lips at the little card before reaching into her shawl. “Then we are here for similar reasons,” she chimed in as she produced a ticket of her own.
Fancy balked at her invitation. “One of the presenters wanted you to come?”
“Oh?” The cheeky mare covered her mouth as her magic secreted the ticket away. “So now you’re interested in a little gossip?”
Fancy cursed himself for taking the bait so easily. “Forget I said anything.”
“But why? This is far more enjoyable for me,” Upper Crust boasted with a snide smile. “I’m sure you can guess who would have the audacity to try to coerce me into coming to this little magic show.”
His eyes bulged at the insinuation. “You can’t seriously mean that Vinyl—”
The business mare smiled with saccharine sweetness. “So you can still put two and two together, how nice for you!”
“What’s with the tone?” Lofty asked, losing her patience with the direction of the conversation. “You’re starting to make me question your side of the story between you two, Crust.”
Upper Crust went rigid at the name. She cleared her throat and dulled the daggers in her eyes. “You know how I feel about nicknames, Lofty.”
“I know. That's why I used it. If you’re making any news, it’s goading the guy you claim that you didn’t run out of the game.”
“He’s the one who—” The mare vented shrilly into the sky before taking a breath. “Fine. I’m not entirely sure why, but Fleur dropped this off at my house earlier this morning with an ultimatum of sorts from Vinyl Scratch.”
“You mean Glitterati?” Lofty corrected flatly.
“No, I do not!” Upper Crust yelled as quietly as she could. “My little Glitter would’ve never used that sort of language with me!”
“But Vinyl would. A mare who just so happens to bear a remarkable resemblance to that random long-lost daughter you dragged to the castle.”
Upper Crust’s temper roiled underneath an icy glare that said all that was necessary.
The prickly pegasus rolled her eyes and sighed. “Just make sure your denial of reality doesn’t bleed into my business. I always dump assets before they become toxic.” The mogul strutted past the other mare, brushing off any final word she’d be able to throw. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to find my seat and wait for… who did you say it was?” she asked, looking over at Bucksaplenty.
“Luminous Burst and her—”
“And her thing about more efficient magelights. Got it.” The busy mare unfurled a file Fancy hadn’t noticed and fluttered through them with her precise feathers. As she passed Fancy, she shot him a little smile. “And if you see anything that catches your eye, Sir Fancy Pants, feel free to let me know.” With a final wink, Lofty left the group behind, giving her full attention to the documents she’d brought along. The slight left a fissure of a scowl splitting Upper Crust’s face, marring the ostentatious wealth she’d donned for the evening.
The baron shrugged. “We should make our way inside as well.”
Upper Crust lashed out against the floor with a powerful hoof stomp. Apparently she hadn’t forgotten everything from her farming days if the shattered tile she left behind was any indication. With a sharp intake of air, she brushed her hair back into place and released the pressure as she settled for a flat frown.
“Shall we?” she asked Fancy.
The former kingmaker nodded in begrudging agreement and offered a polite hoof to lead the way. Upper Crust took it out of obligation, letting him escort her to their seats. He could feel the accursed ticket burn in his pocket. If Fleur and Vinyl had some sort of revenge planned, he hoped the extent of his punishment wasn’t any more than sitting near the mare.
Octavia leaned over towards Fancy’s ear. “I need to check in with my mentee before she’s up.” She fired one last glare towards said mentee’s infuriating guest. “Good luck with that one.”
Fancy sighed. “Thanks. I’ll need it.”
The two stepped through the threshold, entering the largest classroom the school had to offer. Several hundred sectioned seating cushions with a hint of a backrest fanned out in rows facing the center stage. Fancy’s gaze followed Lofty who’d already unfolded her seat’s desk to take notes. Fancy pulled out his ticket to see if there was a numbered row they were supposed to be.
“It’s those seats on the front row,” Upper Crust clarified with a dip of her horn towards the section in question.
He offered a bow to thank her and continued their journey, garnering a few excitable and confused whispers from the others around them. He already knew this was going to be a brutally taxing affair, but he hoped to Harmony that nothing much would come from being seen together. When they arrived at the reserved seats, Fancy grumbled to himself seeing they’d already been labeled with the presenter’s names. Sure enough, the only “Guest of Fleur de Lis” was seated right next to the only “Guest of Vinyl Scratch.”
This was going to be a long night.
The evening was flying by faster than Fancy could’ve imagined. He didn’t need to understand what was going on to appreciate the work that went into their practical presentations. The raw talent and devotion on display sent thrills of excitement through Fancy with each one, regardless of how flashy they were. Each presentation was as invigorating as they were nerve-wracking for the ones defending their research. It was almost a show in and of itself with expert panelists cycling in and out for deliberation of each one, save two ponies: Headmaster Pennywhistle and Chancellor Celestia.
The audience had fallen silent at both the former princess’s attendance and physical appearance. While Fancy was no stranger to it now, Celestia’s once flowing mane had been cut short enough to barely curl around her face at the sides in a pink bob. She’d given a quick speech and word of encouragement to all those presenting before the show started. As for the controversies still swirling around her, she was quick to remind everypony that it was still her school. Besides, if they had a problem with it, they could always vote to change the “C” from Celestia to Canterlot. When Celestia’s gaze had met Fancy’s, they silently exchanged an unspoken gratitude, each thanking the other coming out of hiding for the night.
And Fancy was truly grateful, despite his unpleasant company. As for Upper Crust, the mare sat stiller than a mountain, barely acknowledging the wonder before them as she waited for the real show to start. If anything had caught the new kingmaker’s eye, it hadn’t broken through the resting scowl on her face. The mare was here for one thing and one thing only. Anything else was just a waste of time.
The shields lowered around the last presenter, the aforementioned Luminous Burst smiling nervously as she answered questions while sweeping up the remains of her lamps. Celestia’s genuine smile spoke of her approval of the young mare’s progress, which couldn’t be further from Lofty’s acute disappointment in the explosive end to the presentation. If it was up to Fancy, he’d already be throwing his support behind the girl for her continuing studies.
“Thank you for your time, Luminous Burst.” Celestia flipped to the next page of her binder. Her eyes shot over to Fancy Pants as she cleared her throat. “Fleur de Lis, please come to the stage.”
On cue, the lovely flower strode out from the back doors towards the center stage. Fleur wore a superstar smile as well as a gold choker necklace, inlaid with three small gemstones. A phonograph followed closely behind her, wrapped in her pink aura. She placed the device next to her under the spotlight and bowed before the panel and guests. The young mare’s eyes widened and she nearly tumbled over as she caught Fancy midway through the gesture. A pang of guilt shot through his chest at her surprise, but it was quickly replaced with a far deeper concern when a devilish grin briefly crossed her face.
“Good evening Chancellor Celestia, Headmaster Pennywhistle, Doctor Heartsong, Doctor Arpeggio, and Doctor Steeplechase. I am Fleur de Lis of the School of Illusion’s Acoustic Department.”
The panel bowed in kind before Pennywhistle took the charge. “Good evening, Miss Fleur de Lis. For what reason are you providing this practical defense of your research this evening?”
“I am formally requesting to continue my research into auditory manipulation with a focus on enchantment, Headmaster Pennywhistle.”
“Before you begin, please answer the following questions: One, you understand that already being accepted into the magical research program without financial aid, your presence here this evening is not required in order to maintain your status as a research student, correct?”
“Correct,” she answered.
“Two, you also understand that you agreeing to reviewing your in-progress research through a Practical Defense as a student carries the risk of having your research’s presence at the school reevaluated and possibly revoked, dismissing both it and you from the program, correct?”
Fancy chest tightened. “What?”
“Correct,” Fleur answered again without hesitation.
Fancy couldn’t believe the stakes were this needlessly high. No other student presenters so far were under such scrutiny. Had Fleur been subjecting herself to the same process twice a year, every year since being admitted to the program? Looking around, nopony seemed to even be batting an eye, making him wonder if he’d even heard the headmaster correctly.
Pennywhistle pressed on. “Three, given your answers to questions one and two, for what reason are you presenting your research tonight?”
“Because Vinyl has to do one of these, and SchlurrVivyl always does everything together.”
“What wonderful display of friendship,” Celestia praised with a soft smile.
“Thank you, your…” Fleur trailed, stopping herself from the formal royal address. “Your Chancellorship.”
Celestia giggled at the slip-up. “You’re quite welcome. Now I believe those are all the questions, and you’ve accepted the conditions, so please continue with your defense.”
“Gladly!” she exclaimed with an excited flick of her tail. “Thank you for coming, esteemed contributors and researchers in the field. My studies focus on Vocal Modulation and Modification Enchantments. As it is well-known, the fundamental principles of spells like Ghost Sound and Spectral Mimicry are based within the School of Illusion. The historical roots of such spells are thought to be based around defense to ward off predators and fool assailants, meaning that their function is rooted in hallucination.
“While these old spells still have their uses in the modern day, they are rarely used for survival. Instead, their function has shifted primarily to augmenting performances in stage plays, a far larger audience than a prowling manticore. In order for them to be properly tricked, the spell requires an ever-increasing pool of magic or risks only half the audience experiencing the show as intended. Further complications arise when they are used with a recording device such as this phonograph. Observe.”
Fleur’s horn lit up and shot a bolt of magic into the sky. It exploded into a terrible chorus of various sounds. Everypony tried to shield their ears as all manner of sounds filled the air. Horns roared, whistles shrieked, and Fancy swore he could hear a train derailing next to him. All the while, Fleur spoke calmly next into the old device before striking a hoof against the floor three times.
As the noise finally stopped, Fleur turned back the disc and let it play.
“No doubt you can’t hear me over the ghost sounds I just fired off, but as you can see—or rather hear—the record is none the wiser. You’re probably so overwhelmed by the sounds, you don’t even hear my hoof.” As the record finished speaking, there were three clicks of a hoof.
“But the record did,” Fleur finished while flicking the power off. “It's the classic inanimate subjectivity problem. This can be overcome using Arcane Whisper, but as you know, the more complicated the sound itself is, the harder it becomes to produce the sound convincingly. When it comes to the nuances of speech patterns, it becomes nearly impossible to maintain. This problem pushed me to branch out and seek different fields of magic for the answer, and I found that in studying Cacophony and his focus on enchantment and alteration.”
Fleur puffed out her chest so the light caught the jewelry she’d made. “Tonight, I will show you some of the progress I’ve made on that front. While my goal of full control over the texture of a voice is still unrealized, I will use three distinct voices that are out of my natural range, along with one impression that is in my range, as a control.” Fleur turned her attention to the panelists. “Would you like me to offer proof of my spellwork before proceeding?”
“That will not be necessary, Fleur. Your advisor has already validated your claims,” Celestia explained as she shuffled through her paperwork. “Furthermore, it takes a lot to fool me.”
“Should I take that as a challenge?” the cheeky student pressed.
“You should always strive to push your limits, Miss de Lis. Just be judicial when you try to push mine,” the former princess clarified with a glowing smile.
“R-right. Moving on. As for the impressions,” Fleur said as herself before clearing her throat. “This is kinda close to a mare named Springstep. I’ll actually be performing the entire song using this voice, but it will be overshadowed by the alteration enchantments as I cycle through them with my magic.”
Celestia’s ears perked up in curious recognition as Fancy tried to place the voice he’d sworn he’d heard somewhere before. She hummed a few notes before activating the first gem.
“The light blue is Autumn Aria.” Fleur’s voice jumped up an airy octave or two. Celestia's face had already sunk in realization at what the audacious mare was doing.
“The pink citrine is an often forgotten mare called Sunny Skies,” Fleur said with the unmistakable authority of the former ruler’s disguise.
“And bringing it back home as the orange citrine, we’ve got the best for last! My late Aunty Sauna Summers!” she sing-songed with the unmistakable energy of Fancy’s mother. Not wanting to let Celestia get a word in, the mare pulled a hidden microphone from under her cart and flipped it on. “Now, let’s get this groove train going!”
Fleur lightly bucked the phonograph she’d rolled in away from her. A fluttering ballad filtered through the class’ speakers as Fleur manifested a glowing disco ball made of magic that slowly rose to the ceiling. Both Fancy and Celestia recognized the song immediately as Autumn’s gentle voice sang along.
One chance,
One chance tonight.
Fleur’s horn pulsed, flipping to the pink gem to impersonate Celestia’s disguise right in front of her. The slick performer offered a knowing wink to the alicorn.
This is your one chance,
One chance for life.
As light faded from the necklace, allowing Fleur’s impression of Sprinstep to barrel through the other two with firm passion. She shut her eyes, crooning with a deeper, soulful voice.
I want you, to hold true,
To renew, and pursue.
You’re one who, can see through
All that I am, and you know what I am.
With a sharp grin, Fleur’s eyes flared open along with the music as the final jewel flashed to life. In the spirit of her dearly departed Auntie Summers, Fleur spun around and pointed a hoof directly at Fancy Pants with a lovely smile that burned with a barely contained fury before she swept it over the rest of the audience.
It’s your one chance, so make a stance!
One chance, now take a stance!
Use this one chance, to take your stance, make it right!
It’d been a long time since Fancy had heard the song, but he was fairly sure Fleur was improvising some of the lyrics. His half-sister was taking no prisoners, grilling him using his mother’s voice under the guise of a disco anthem. He wasn’t sure how to take the scolding from beyond the grave, but knowing Summers, she would’ve approved and sang along. Celestia might’ve too if she hadn’t already plastered on a practiced smile before the song started.
The funky fresh brass and smooth string sections of the classic disco anthem, One Chance, swept through the room, causing several ponies to stand up and dance along with the infectious groove. Fleur herself danced to the music, demonstrating both her stellar singing and showmareship by shifting effortlessly between the ponies she was channeling.
Autumn Aria flowed gracefully across the stage anytime she began to sing. Sunny Skies accentuated her lithe movements with half-lidded flutters of her eyes that challenged onlookers to try to approach her majesty. Springstep bounded around the stage with her fresh, boisterous beats. Finally, the Queen of Disco, Sauna Summers, blasted the listeners with her endless positive energy, even leading the audience to stomp their hooves with the rhythm.
Finally, Fleur went for broke, strobing through the entire spectrum of performers at once, letting all four voices harmonize at once in a final, beautiful note. The speed her magic soared through the crystals brought the entire band back together for one final, joyous reunion before a hoof stomp brought it all to a close.
The accompanying music ended, and Fleur took a breath through her nose and puffed it out in relief. “So, as you can see and hear, the applications of using enchantments to augment performances so they can be experienced by both a live audience and later listeners. Furthermore, I wish to state that such devices are not meant to replace talent, but augment it to allow for shows that would be impossible without them. I encourage more researchers to suggest other applications of such magitechnology and try them for yourself. Thank you.”
The mare gave a deep bow, popping up from it as quickly as she’d dipped and letting her messy mane drape around her like a rock star. “Any questions?”
If you find a simple mistake in the GSP (Grammar, Spelling, or Punctuation), please let me know through a private message rather than leaving it in the comment section. Thank you for reading!
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*Springstep
11735389
Thanks for the find! If you find any others, feel free to shoot me a PM.
Subtle.
It's really not.
Like a book.
She's having fun.
Oh this is FUN.
This is going to be a LONG presentation.
Oh dear.
Checks out.
The gumption.
I see Fleur is going for the jugular.
And just like that, Fleur has more ethics than AI-techbros.
Fleur is the best!
Fleur takes no prisoners.
Pinhead sounds a little racist too in case of a Unicorn.
You... you... You! It's all you! I was so suspended in story that I didn't realize whose name did you reference as Summers!
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I was actually going to comment on that myself. I'm not privy to the timeframe in which that sequence was first outlined, but if it does predate the incessant A.I. word-buzzing of our present year, it is kinda interesting to note how our technology's caught up with the voice-changing plot point… for better or worse (Dae Lims continues to rattle me). "Life imitates art," as Oscar Wilde once said. The future is now, brought to you by the past… for the good or ill of us living through the uncertain present. (Regardless of real-world context, though, Fleur using it to somewhat subtly tell Fancy off through an entire crowd is indeed amazing. Something, something, "In the Air Tonight" urban legend.)
For an extra layer of kinda-sorta musical irony, Rego PM'd me Chapter 58 the same day the Beatles finally gave "Now & Then" a release date. We're packing all the semi-posthumous reunions in!
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While I did add the line because of my stance against generative models, Fleur struggles with this idea back in chapter 14.
That was back in 2021 when NFTs were the hot grifter buzz word.
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Correct on both counts.
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Didn't think about that one myself, but I chalk that one up to personally not taking offense to being called a certain bready saltine.
Contrary to the name ShlurVivyl, Fleur leaves no survivors
This chapter is so fun. I love getting Fleur content in this setting, and this is definitely top shelf. Her tech, talent, and technique combined beautifully.