Melody To The Stars

by Rewan Demontay

Song From A Celesta

Winter winds wept over the marble balcony as the twin squared-glass doors opened. Red curtain cloth shuffled quietly as she passed through them. The doors creaked close with a click as the knobs resumed their static position. Her slow and erratic, as well as tentative, hoof steps clacked like thunder opposing the nocturnal silence, save the lightest buzzing of an insect or the hoot of an owl far below. Frosty breath escaped with a deep inhale and exhale.

With a gust of yellow aura, fresh snow as white as she neatly pushed itself into oblivion below. This left a clean, polished reflection for her to stare back at herself in, between the stars and torchlight escaping through the curtains. Nonetheless, she saw herself as just fine, tired as he was. Against the cold surface of the stone, she walked to the ancient mahogany duet bench. She sat alone on it.

With another light of her horn, the cover of the celesta before her, near the edge of the balcony’s waist-high granite pillars, opened to reveal a set of weary, well-used keys. A small tear dropped as she took a moment to collect herself. Stuttering in breaths, she set her body into a comfortable position. The freezing air mollified the stress in her throat in addition to its sensuous effects. Dazed eyes blinked, but she kept them open. She must do this.

Quietly, she ensured the centuries-old celesta worked properly. Some spells wiped away dew and residue. Manually checking the attunement came by instinct. A glass of water appeared with a flash of light, which she gulped and sat on the banister. Within a few minutes, everything felt just right. Her head jerked forward from blacking out for a second, but she recovered. Lastly, she delicately placed hooves right above the gleaming keys.

She glanced up at the moon, in the void hovering over the world, encircled by entangled swirls of menacing spots of light. Clearing her throat, keys swayed up and down, sending music to be purloined and heard by the heavens. Something could be sensed in the distant sky. A sweet melody twirled into existence in the medium of still gas.

Her tired voice whispered out.

“Star light, I see you now.”

The stars did not answer her.

“Star bright, I hope you envision me back.”

She kept watch, gazing into the illuminated abyss as her hooves moved with her voice.

“Draped against the endless midnight black.”

Truly, nowhere could she escape the cacophony of their shining.

“Sister, see the moonlight time through,” she decreed.

Upon the end of the first chorus, the song shifted to an instrumental bridge. Up and down, her hooves rose and fell across the keys as if a calm ocean tide. The sound drew long and weary, like she was, going into the night. Memories flashed as she reached the lowest diminuendo. They caused her leaning body to shiver with just as much fault as the icy atmosphere. The moon shone brightly in the nearly cloudless night.

The coldness of the balcony’s marble floor drained heat from her, bit by bit. Any number of spells would resolve the issue. But she chose to focus every ounce of energy on her current task. Rustling oaks in the garden below; barely audible scraps of metal footwear passing around; soft air flowing over through and under; all were nothing but minor, near non-existent distractions compared to the music.

“Oh, as I watch,” she called again, “you rise and fall.”

The owl hooted again, as if in curiosity or distraction.

“Burning, freezing, seasons all.”

Phantom pain gnawed as the lyrics controlled her senses.

“I can only hope you hear my call.”

Inhaling almost simmered the invisible swells of heat clutching her.

“And might it bring peace to the heart.”

She soon cooled as she went forth. The celesta played on, sound bouncing from the balcony to the twinkling darkness far away. Pitches rose in accordance with the small tinglings she felt. Eventually, though, she couldn’t hold her exhausted eyes from flooding. Crystal droplets released from the corners of her flickering orbs. She keyed on, staring into the void, as the tears fell. She had to keep thinking about a better future. Green wisps burned into view.

“Make a wish, first star you see.”

As she’d predicted, the meteor show for tonight began.

“With all your light, may it come true.”

The blazing blue-green trails arced over the brilliant, high white rock.

“I am here, it'l be alright."

Such a statement could hold only hope.

“I'll be with you every night.”

Above, the moon’s reflecting face stared back at her. Silent yet judging, gazing back to stir her further. It soaked in the sorrowful tunes, returning nothing to her persistent pleading. That one night, so long ago, yet so ever present in her mind. The sky passed on. Gray, massive clouds rolled in to intensify the scenery. Portions of them covered the moon as if to deny her song to it. The comets left in due time. Once more, they conspired to overwhelm.

No matter; she reached the chorus again after the enchanting notes.

“Turbulent turmoil, I understand.”

For no one else possibly could.

“It can unfurl, unleash, unlash.”

She stared, once more, at the empty space.

“I am here, for when you can.”

It stood frozen in time, locked away in agonizing stasis.

“To wish a wish to wash it away.”

For her sister missing, lost in this world, she had to play on. To believe her words would someday bring her back. Her hooves trembled and kept stroking across the celesta. Yellow streams of her aura enveloped her every movement. They helped move her weary, devastated body through her nightly ritual of soothing herself, and perhaps, her sister. In spite of total fatigue, she must go on, for one day her sister was to be found.

“In your shaking slumber,” she correspondingly called out.

The amassing clouds begin to collapse into one another.

“Or an unknowing state of mind.”

What she would give to know.

“I know it is a struggle.”

Sharp, icy zephyrs stung from the forming front.

“To not feel the emotions swirling.”

Down she dipped into the next melodic threads of exclusively vocal-less sections. The winds blew and blew until reaching a roaring zenith. She fought and committed to finishing the dedication. Even as the tendrils of chill crept across her, while the balcony drained of more heat. The celesta reverberated onward, perhaps more powerfully than before. Splitting attention between music and magic proved difficult yet doable. She alone would do this, as she’d endured for decades.

Her soft voice flowed as a whisper. “It can feel a darkness, an ocean.”

Numerous nights appealed to her inner negativity.

“I lend a hoof to guide in motion.”

May her sister hear her offer through this storm.

“You must let yourself remain.”

She let loose visible breath; it was so hard to be the one here, for others.

“We will work through the pain.”

Naturally, she glanced above. The silver light simply stood still, in no attempt to answer back. The same answer she’d received for so long. Wherever her sister was in truth, or how she suffered, she could only imagine. Each night since her vanishing, she wondered. Since then, playing on this balcony for either lowly or lovely nights. Spinning away as the music softly churned in tandem with her, the composer. A symphony of regret as the winds howled.

“No matter how faint.”

Crisp, frozen flakes fell mutually and simultaneously.

“The hope may seem.”

Despite it, she merely channeled greater effort as she neared the finish.

“It can become quite quaint.”

Keys flowed smoothly despite the white.

“Keep an eye out for the silver beam.”

Minutes passed, and the balcony filled with the raging snow. Soon, it topped her in a mountain of camouflage. The celesta fluffed in extra height. Onward she played with a warm glow enveloping the keys to dispel the precipitation. Cracked ice formed on her hooves, as the spell applied only to the instrument. Gradually, she felt herself slipping into her body’s desperate urge to rest. Ignore it, she must. This was far too along and important to abandon–just as she shouldn’t have of her sister before. Pummeling weather would never stop her.

“Be at peace,” she cried out, tears renewing in strength.

The light in the room went out now that it was midnight.

“Sleep in ease.”

She truly hoped her sister could.

“Rest those weary eyes.”

Her own started to dangerously flutter.

“And, evermore, look up hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiigh.”

Her voice and the celesta burst in one last chord of harmony and strength as the last note of the song echoed into the starry echelons above. With it, the last of her physical strength sapped. The celesta’s key cover gently lowered with a quiet whump. Breathing through a few more cycles brought reliving clarity to her state of being. She looked at the bright moon, shining. Though opaque and obscure under the storm, it brought a sad smile to her.

She trudged off the bench and promptly collapsed into the heaping snow on the balcony. This was fine. Vision cut to blackness as her body shut down. This was fine. The song was complete; her work was done. Planning was performed with no hitch. Tomorrow night she would do it all over after suffering through the day.

She could sleep on stone, cold, in the dark; isolated in the frozen wasteland of her balcony. It could be how her sister felt, ignoring the celesta’s presence. Hints of the lucid realm seeped as her consciousness channeled there. Years of experience never could predict what lies there. Whether dreams or nightmares, she knew not. Her only wish was to feel what her sister felt, to know and to know why.

Deep into a quaking, quivering slumber she fell.

Perhaps, tonight, her sister across the world had heard her through.

Comments

[Forcalor]

Interesting experiment in writing, I've enjoyed it.

[Rewan Demontay]

11640350
I'm glad you did. It was just as much an experiment to write.
And I have corrected that by shifting the prolongation to 'i' instead, thanks.

[oblivion2k]

I think I'm too tired to understand this. Why did the story repeat twice?

[Rewan Demontay]

11653727
That would be a copy paste error, no idea how that slipped me--fixed, many thanks.

[PseudoBob Delightus]

Here's your New Blood Contest feedback!

My original judgement of this, when I read it the first time, was that it was a very nice experimental story - but, like so many experimental stories, it loses some appeal by its structural novelty and strictness. I think this remains a fair assessment.

Right from the first paragraph, we can see the story uses a minimal, evocative style, both poetic and weird:

Winter winds wept over the marble balcony as the twin squared-glass doors opened. Red curtain cloth shuffled quietly as she passed through them. The doors creaked close with a click as the knobs resumed their static position.

... Some errors here include the lack of an article in "Red curtain cloth shuffled quietly as she passed through them." 'Them' what? The curtains? Or the doors? I guess it could be the doors, but it's hard to tell - and as for the doors, they should creak "closed", not "close."

Maybe neither of these are errors - and the rest of the story is mostly free of mistakes. But I think the broader point to draw from this is that this is a very strange and unnatural writing style that makes error hard to tell from choice. The perfect thing to experiment with, yeah, but it doesn't make for flawless reading.

As for the narrative, and the song at the core of it, I'm... not really a musical person, so if there's some domain knowledge going into it, I've missed it completely. My takeaway is that I can't hear the song in my head, so it doesn't compel me the way it might otherwise, but I can see how the elegy compliments Celestia's grief and hope, so it's good stuff regardless.

Thanks for writing it, and thanks for participating in our little contest. I see you're writing quite a lot of stories these days, so I hope to continue to see more from you in the future.