• Published 6th May 2023
  • 154 Views, 15 Comments

The Song of Oak - Visharo

Burnt Oak, an old stallion, working as a log salesman. Torch Song, a young mare, working as a singer for the Pony Tones. Why, it's a match made in heaven!

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Torch Song, a mare in her mid years, was contemplating. A pale yellow coat with a orange and purple mane and tail rolled up into a bun. There was a braided strand that fell from her mane so it hung before her eyes, the sight of it always calmed her. Turquoise beads were braided all over her hair and the sight of it got her looks from the elite, she didn't care. At most times, she was seen with her Ponytones uniform, but not today.

Today was something different, the start of her solo career. It's been her dream since she was a little filly and no offense to the other members of the Ponytones, she loves them dearly, but Torch wanted something more, something else. She finally got her chance when company from Fillydelphia wanted to meet with her. She sighed wistfully and gathered all the supplies she might need. Bits, a brochure about Fillydelphia, a sweater just in case, and other knick knacks that a lady has no need to divulge.

She left her house, one of simple design just like all the other Ponyvillian houses, and went to the boutique. Carousel Boutique to be exact. It was the location of potentially the last time the Ponytones would ever meet. She wasn't sure how they would cope without her, but all four of them were extremely supportive in her decision, but even then, she still felt a tad guilty.

On the way, her brain wandered. She needed a debut song, one that would land her in the good graces of her potential sponsor. The pressure had her heart in a tizzy, but she was confident she would think of something. After all, her meeting with them would be in three days. Plenty of time.

"Lillies in the Valley." She said as she peered closely at said flower. No inspiration came. She moved on.


Torch Song was sitting down, thinking of how the ride was long and boring. The train cart was filled with chatter and the wailing of a small filly. The outside was just a blurry landscape, not to mention her mind was drifting too much to actually focus on any landmarks. It was also a weekday, so the train was completely full, forcing Torch into a corner with her luggage squeezed next to her. The stallion next to her looked very sickly and was coughing every once in a while. All of this, and she didn't notice.

The song, that was the only thing that was driving her now. That moment, that weekend, it was all about the song and Torch had no idea what it would sound like. How could she know? She's never written a song before! In the Ponytones, it was always Rarity or Fluttershy, mostly Fluttershy in the later months once they realized how good her songs were. As if that thought triggered some descent into madness, she started thinking about all the songs she knew.

Those village wide songs in Ponyville, the Equestrian anthem written by Rara and then when she was Countess Coloratura with her weird techy hip hop stuff, Torch never really liked that genre. Speaking of which, her mind drifted over to dubtrot, coined by the one and only DJ-Pon3, and you can talk about the DJ without speaking of her partner in crime, the famed bassist or cellist, depending on who you talk to, Octavia with her haunting classical music. Rap music invented by local baker, Pinkie Pie. Pop music, popularized by Sapphire Shores and Songbird Serenade. The ballads written by the lineage of Princess Cadance. And then finally, the acapella of the Ponytones. All of these different songs floated around in her head and it hurt.

"Aaaargh!" She released an aggressive exhale. It caught some attention.

"Are you alright, miss?" It was the stallion across from her. He looked nice enough, with that hopeful yet concerned smile.

"Oh, perfectly fine, good sir, just this terrible thought keeps plaguing me." It wasn't the whole truth, but who would want to hear the whole truth?

"Ah, the thoughts of a creator?" Torch raised an eyebrow at that.

"And how would you know that, my good sir?"

"My apologies, I didn't mean to offend if I did. What I meant was that, I know exactly what you mean. I am a writer, Scribbled Notes is the name my parents gave me and once this newspaper cutie mark appeared on my flank, I have been 'plagued,' as you say, by my creative thoughts, both healthy and unhealthy." Torch wasn't expecting to hear a somewhat philosophical rant about creativity, yet here she was. On a train, listening to a writer complaining with reasoning. She pondered this, and it certainly was a most curious situation.

"You raise most intriguing points, good sir. I would have to think about it."

"Call me Scribbled."

"If I must do so, then to spare myself of being rude to a certainly kind fellow, you may call me Torch, Torch Song."

"A pleasure."



Torch Song was trotting down a cobbled street, on her back a saddlebag. She had arrived at her hotel room right on time and checked in. Dropped her luggage off and immediately headed towards the shopping district, determined to find something, anything. She had this simple thought, and it was buried deep in her subconscious, that somehow this would solve her inexplicable mental block.

On the way there, she had to ask several of the residents. There were the ones who were helpful like that little colt with the most impish grin. And then there were the unashamed rude ponies like that old mare, 'determined to make life miserable for everypony else.' Those were the words of her neighbor, not Torch. It only took ten minutes, but she was finally able to reach it, mostly due to a giant banner that said 'SHOPPING DISTRICT.'

The first stall she saw was the fruits & vegetables one. She did enjoy her veggies from time to time, but the thing that caught her eye were the strawberries. The sweetness and simply the shape of them filled her with such happiness, it's hard to describe. Deciding that her plans were now forfeit, or at the very least, postponed, she beelined straight towards the strawberries.

"Hello ma'am, how can I help you?" The seller was a mare wit a simple enough mane and coat, but she wasn't here for the pony.

"Strawberries." It was very undignified, but she couldn't help herself, she was certain her mouth was dripping with saliva.

"Excuse me?"

"Strawberries. How much for one box?" The vendor looked taken aback. Perhaps it was Torch's hungry stare. She would deny any of this ever happening, but for her, strawberries were the food of Princesses.

The whole interaction lasted only five minutes and she left pretty happy with three boxes of strawberries. She had no doubt that the mare behind the counter would remember her for a good chunk of her life, if not all her life. Torch had no qualms about that, the strawberries were worth it.

While she was munching on her delicious treats, she walked and gazed about the shopping district, hoping for any inspiration. Basket weaving? No. Poker? Unladylike. The wonderful art of bread making? Delicious, but no. This was how it went, and as the day wore on, the more disheartened she became. She was preparing herself, emotionally and physically, to turn around and go back to the hotel. Then she saw something, no, someone. It was him.

Author's Note:

🎵I gave you my heart and then you turned around!🎵
Was listening to that song while writing this, good song that, incredibly creepy, but still, good song. :twilightsmile: