Musicians of Canterlot
Octavia stepped out onto the streets of Canterlot and stretched. This, she thought, Is going to be a good evening.
Bitzet Theatre, the venue that Frederick Horseshoepin was performing at that night, was one of the most prestigious small concert halls in the city. Seating was limited to one hundred and fifty ponies, and if you weren’t a noble, or else very well known in the fine-arts scene, you couldn’t get in. Its fame was justified; only the best of the best performed in Bitzet Theatre, and Octavia had never heard of them having a bad show. Even Octavia, who had attended innumerable concerts, was always excited to attend one of their performances.
She sat in the café just across the street from Bitzet, sipping a cup of tea and waiting for Paperweight to arrive. The page had sent her a message saying that she was really sorry but she couldn’t meet her for tea before the show, as she was tied up in a research project. She had promised, though, to arrive on time for the actual show. Octavia had been a bit worried at first, since Bitzet was famous in never allowing late arrivals – there had been a small incident about a year ago, when a Duchess of the Night Court had arrived five minutes late and been barred entry – but she had pushed those worries aside. Paperweight was punctual, as was necessary for a page in the Court, and she would arrive on time.
Behind her, she heard the other patrons in the café begin to murmur excitedly. “What’s she doing here?” one pony asked. “Who is she?”
“… complete lack of class,” said another.
“Honestly, the sort they let in these days. This place use to have standards.”
Octavia rolled her eyes. She didn’t know who had just arrived, but she didn’t much care either. She wanted to relax herself, and prepare to enjoy what she knew would be hours of spectacular music. She had no time for gossip.
But the next voice was familiar. “Yo, waiter! Can I get some service here?”
Crescendo?!
Octavia turned and watched the metal musician arguing with a waiter. Crescendo hadn’t made any effort to dress up; her purple-and-black mane dangled loosely around her head and neck, and her electric green coat was a bit tangled, like she’d been working all day and had gone out for a show without cleaning up. She couldn't have looked more out of place if she’d tried.
The waiter was looking quite nervous. “Er… of course… yes, ah, there’s a seat right over there, back by the—“
“What, sticking me in the back where nopony can see me?”
Octavia put some bits on the table to pay for her tea and hurried over. “Crescendo, what are you doing?”
“Octavia?” Crescendo blinked. “What’s it look like? Just getting something to snack on before my protest, but I’ve been waiting for five minutes trying to get served.”
“Protest?” Octavia had a sinking feeling. She clearly doesn’t come here often, so the only reason she’d be here is if she’s protesting something in the area… if she tries to disrupt Frederick’s concert, I am going to have words with her.
“Yeah. See, whatever you tried to do, it obviously didn’t work. Now it’s my turn.”
“Turn for what?” asked an exasperated Octavia.
“Thrashing Thrash. I’m done with him, and his insane claims and his—“
Octavia stared. “Thrash Metail? What’s he done now?”
“What, you didn’t hear? I thought you were all about being the ‘guardian of music’ in this city or something—“
“Tell me,” said Octavia, through gritted teeth, “What he is doing.”
“Starting his comeback tour, Octavia.” Crescendo chuckled, though there was obvious anger in it. “It starts tonight.”
Octavia, not wanting the discussion to be overheard by the café’s patrons, led Crescendo outside. “Thrash has canceled all of his upcoming concerts. I checked.”
“Not anymore, he hasn’t. It’s all over the metal circuit. He’s playing tonight.”
“What? But – where?” I have to go there, alert his audience as to what he is doing. I can’t believe this…
“Some place called the Bitzet Theatre.”
Octavia stared, then let out a sigh of relief. She’s wrong, then. “That can’t be right. Not only is Bitzet Theatre a classical venue, but they have a different concert booked tonight. I have tickets for it. Thrash cannot be playing there.”
“Well, the metal scene thinks he is. This street’s going to start getting some pretty interesting ponies showing up soon.”
If a bunch of metal fans show up on this street, with chains and forked tongues, half the nobles in the city will die from apoplectic shock. “They can’t get in. The concert is sold out – and it’s not even his concert! The only way he could be performing is if he somehow took over the theatre, and…”
And, knowing what I know of his powers and his ambition, that wouldn’t actually be out of the realm of possibility. The realm of sanity, yes, but he might be crazy enough…
Crescendo shrugged. “All I know is the rumor. Hey, I hope it’s false too. I’m tired of that mediocrity stealing my audiences and driving down the metal in the city. He’s got knockoff artists now, ponies who are imitating him, and think that puts them at the pinnacle of the genre! I can’t even get good bookings, ‘cause his crazy fanponies are popular now, so they’re the only ones who can get the good venues! So yeah, hope it’s false, but I don’t think it is.” She took a flier out of her saddlebag. “He’s got ads and everything.”
Octavia looked at the flier. It was a stylized drawing of Thrash, and it announced that he was performing that night at Bitzet Theatre. “Why wasn’t this in the papers?”
“How should I know? Just saw a whole stack under the door of the club I was at earlier.”
Octavia frowned. “This was distributed to the metal venues, but not the papers… so the nobles who show up won’t know about it.” She blinked. “He doesn’t want the nobles to know he’s playing there tonight.”
“Well, I can’t imagine they’d waste their precious time on a ‘metal’ concert if they knew.”
“So it isn’t just the venue. He wants Frederick’s audience.” Octavia groaned. “And half the Court will be there. Frederick led the Canterlot Symphonic piano section for ten years. Everypony who likes classical music wants to hear him.”
“He’s nuts if he thinks the Court will like him. But it will still give him a boost he doesn’t deserve, and—“
“He probably plans to cheat, like he always does,” said Octavia.
“… cheat?”
“I’ve discovered how he’s attracted such large audiences.” Octavia explained about the Euphoria spell.
“No way,” said Crescendo, at the end. “That cheating mule!”
“He may cheat, but he’s still very powerful. And now he’s going after the nobles in the Court. But we can’t contact the Guards to stop him, because he hasn’t done anything yet.” Octavia put a hoof to her forehead. “I don’t believe this.”
Crescendo paused. “Well… it’d be really stupid to try to attack the Court with magic, right? Maybe he’ll try putting on a real show?”
“It’s possible, but—“
“Octavia! Octavia!”
The two musicians turned to see Paperweight running up, a book balanced carefully on her head.
“Octavia! I found out what Thrash is doing!” she squeaked. “Look!” She floated the book over to the stunned cellist.
Octavia opened the book, Magical Instruments of the Modern Pony Era, to a bookmarked page. “What do you mean?”
“It’s his guitar! The Guitar of the Sirens! It’s all written there!”
“Guitar of the what-now?” asked Crescendo.
Paperweight’s gaze shifted to the other mare, and she froze. “Ohmygosh. You’re Crescendo! I loved your Mare on Fire album! And—“
“Paperweight. Focus,” said Octavia. She looked at the book. “Tell me what I’m looking for.”
“It starts at the paragraph on the left page. It’s all there!”
Octavia looked down and began to read.
”As a final point, we turn to the curious case of the Guitar of the Sirens. Like the other instruments discussed in this chapter, it was probably created to serve as a weapon. It is unclear, though, whether it was intended to harm those who listened to it or those who performed with it. We present all available evidence, and leave it as an exercise to the reader to determine which tale seems most probable.
“Shortly after then-Princess Celestia’s attack and defeat of King Sombra, despot of the Crystal Kingdom, she issued a proclamation throughout Equestria. She announced, essentially, that it was long past time for wandering monsters, foreign enemies, and wild beasts to be held accountable for harming Equestrian citizens. Therefore, she would root out and destroy all those who sought to hurt ponies, and she would be as ‘just’ in these efforts as she had been when she destroyed Sombra. Be they a rogue griffin force, an angry Ursa Major, or the mysterious beasts and monsters of the infamous Everfree Forest, none would be spared from Celestia’s wrath. After this, Celestia declared, ponies would truly be safe.
“The sirens of the Everfree heard the announcement and grew worried. After all, it was widely rumored that they had lured ponies to their deaths with their magical voices, and they knew that they had little hope of resisting Celestia if she decided to make an example of them. To placate the sun princess, the sirens worked together to craft a singular artifact of immense magical power, and then sent it to her with an envoy as a special gift. If they could provide for her a weapon to keep her ponies safe, they thought, she might spare them out of gratitude.
“The gift was presented to Corona in one of the last meetings of the Day Court before that body was disbanded. Records of that meeting are scant, but what remains describes a truly fearsome instrument. The Guitar of the Sirens, a guitar crafted of solid gold, was said to have the power of a hundred sirens imbued into each string. Any musician who played that instrument could sway a crowd of thousands, turning them into mindless drones that would feel and do whatever the guitarist wanted. This, the siren envoy said, made it a truly useful weapon. Whether an enemy was one large monster or an entire army, a single trained musician could quell them all.
“Corona accepted the gift, and allowed the siren envoy to leave with her thanks. She gave the Guitar her blessing and used her own magic to bolster the instrument before presenting it to a famous musician in the Court, Scare Chord, and sending him out as her champion. For a month, he battled monsters and quelled uprisings in her name, but his behavior grew steadily more erratic, until finally he vanished. He reappeared a week later, at the head of an army of monsters, announcing that he was going to storm Canterlot, overthrow the alicorns, and rule the nation in their place. He was, he claimed, invincible, thanks to the Guitar, and he saw no reason why he should languish as a mere servant when he could rule a nation.
“Corona dispersed his army and threw Scare Chord in gaol. She gave the Guitar to another musician, Trebellini, and sent her out to do Scare Chord’s work. But in a short while, she was also overwhelmed by delusions of grandeur, and she attempted to set up her own kingdom in what is now Stalliongrad. She too was defeated, and the Guitar passed on, but Corona could not find a pony to wield the instrument who would remain loyal for more than a month. In the end, she could find no string players at all; they opted to desert the Court and run away rather than risk being tasked with playing the Guitar of the Sirens. In the end, she cursed the Guitar, striking it with such a strong blast of lightning that she blackened and tarnished its golden body, before sealing it away and declaring sirens to be the enemy of Equestria. Only her imprisonment in the sun spared the sirens of the Everfree from destruction.
“What happened to the Guitar after that is not known, though a few collectors have claimed to have recovered the artifact – none, of course, willing to produce it for inspection, but all quite vehement that they truly possessed a guitar of blackened gold with the power to enchant the minds of thousands. Perhaps more interestingly, it is also unclear why, exactly, those who played the Guitar were corrupted. Some argue that Corona’s blessing in some way altered the Guitar, infusing it with her paranoia and greed. Others contend that the sirens crafted the Guitar that way in an attempt to destroy Corona’s musicians and weaken her power, perhaps as part of a collaboration with Princess Luna, or just to destroy the Equestrian musicians who were most resistant to their alluring music. And still others blame the instrument itself, crafted of gold found in an ancient vein in the Everfree Forest, wild gold which may have had a will of its own.
It is perhaps fortunate that this instrument has not been seen in a millennia…”
Octavia looked up. “So that’s what Thrash found.”
Crescendo raised an eyebrow. “Sounds kind of wild to me. Isn’t Thrash’s special talent conducting? Maybe this is just some spell he knows.”
“He might know the spell, but he’s been acting recklessly,” said Octavia. “If he was smart enough to get this far, he wouldn’t be foolish enough to attack me in his house, or to try playing for the nobles with his level of ability. His magic and his degeneration both fit.”
“We should get the Guards!” said Paperweight. “They can stop him, and help him…”
Octavia was already shaking her head. “It is not illegal to own the Guitar, and we have no new evidence against him. We can’t prove that he’s going to attack the nobles, even if we know it’s true.”
“The city seriously has no defense against this?” said Crescendo. “We’ve got the Tyrant Sun hanging over our heads, we’re supposed to all be on alert, and the Guards can’t handle one metalhead nutjob?”
“Eventually, yes, they can. Thrash is collapsing, and even if he stabilizes, somepony will notice the nobles acting unusually. In time, an investigation will be launched that Thrash cannot stop, and he will be arrested.” Octavia shut her eyes. “But that could take days, maybe weeks. He could do a lot of harm in the intervening time. Even if the Euphoria spell itself has no long-term ill-effects, which I doubt, he’ll have complete control of them. What if he forgets to tell his minions to feed themselves?”
“So what’s the plan, then?” asked Crescendo. “Because if it involves beating him over the head, I’m up for that.”
“We would be arrested, and he would perform unhindered,” said Octavia. “That won’t work.”
“Then what?”
Octavia sighed. “I’ll challenge him.”
“…come again?” Crescendo blinked.
“My student Lyra battled sirens once before. She was able to counteract their magic by performing on her lyre; by deflecting and altering their music, she defeated their magic as well. If that Guitar was crafted by the sirens, it probably can be fought in the same way. He’s arrogant enough now that, if I propose a musical duel between us before the nobles, he’ll probably accept. Then I can counter his music with my own.”
“And then what?” asked Paperweight. “I mean, you can’t just follow him around and play at all his concerts.”
“I don’t know.” Octavia shrugged. “But I need to stop him, now, before he does something to the nobles. I’ll figure the rest out later.”
Crescendo frowned. She looked almost angry to Octavia, although the cellist wasn’t sure why. “Uh, Octavia, you’re assuming you’ll win this challenge.”
“He’s incompetent. My music has been praised by Luna Herself.” Octavia allowed a touch of pride to enter her voice. “He can’t hope to beat me.”
“If you’re challenging him, he gets to set the rules. That means he’ll make it a metal competition, and you don’t know how to play that.” Crescendo narrowed her eyes. “And if you tell me you’re a metal expert from hearing one real concert, I’m going to beat Thrash by picking you up and using you as a club. I don’t care what Luna says, you know nothing about this kind of music, and lame as he is, he’s still better than you.”
Octavia glared. “I fought him off before.”
“How?” demanded Crescendo.
“I was able to ignore his music—“
“Great, except if you’re trying to perform alongside him, you can’t do that. You’ll need to listen to what he’s doing to make sure your music matches it. If you screw up, you’ll be his too.”
“In which case Luna will notice when I don’t turn up to play at sunrise, or when I turn up completely insane, and she’ll shut him down,” said Octavia. “Solving the problem.”
“Or,” snapped Crescendo, “If the book is right that the Guitar really has a will of its own because it was made with freaky magic gold, maybe it decides that it’d rather be in your hooves than his. Maybe it convinces him to let you hold it for a while, and it possesses you. Then we have a musician who actually knows what she’s doing playing that thing. What then?”
The trio were silent for a moment.
“But we have to be able to stop it!” said Paperweight, at last. “It’s… it’s evil! And – and Octavia, you’re an incredible musician! You have to be able to win!” She looked at Octavia with big, pleading eyes. “You can beat him, right?”
Octavia shut her eyes for a moment. She tried, as best she could, to look past her pride. Crescendo was right; if she battled Metail and lost, bad things could happen. But surrendering to him wasn’t an option either, not unless she had no chance of victory. Could she win?
If it were classical, or any other genre, there’d be no question. But Crescendo is right. He’s got an advantage in metal. Although… the nobles won’t like that, and he can’t play for them if they all get up and leave once they find out what his genre is. He’ll need to at least start out classical before transitioning to metal. That should give me an advantage, but even then, if it’s just me…
“Octavia?” asked Paperweight. “Octavia, can you win?”
By myself, I don’t know. And it has to be me; I’m the Court Musician, I make sure the music in this city is honest and good, nopony else has this job…
But hadn’t she been looking for other ponies to help her out with music she couldn’t play? Wasn’t that part of why she’d gotten involved in metal to begin with?
After all, it wasn’t about her. It was about the music. That was what really mattered.
Octavia opened her eyes and stood straight. “I,” she said, quietly, “Am the Court Musician of Equestria. If I can be beaten by a magic trinket, I don’t deserve my title. I will play, and I will win.”
“You have absolutely no—“ began Crescendo.
“And,” continued Octavia, “Part of being the Court Musician means knowing when there’s something I can’t play on my own. The reason I began studying metal artists was in case I needed to recommend such an artist for the Court; as I am unskilled with that genre, I wished to know who I could call on.” She looked at Crescendo. “Answer honestly: how good are you?”
“Er – what?” asked Crescendo.
“In your field. I enjoy your music, but as you’ve said, I know little about metal. Are you skilled?”
“Yeah.” Crescendo smirked. “Seriously? I’m good. In terms of technique, I’m one of the best in the city.”
“Then I’d like you to perform with me. Thrash can’t object to that; I’m sure he uses backing drummers of his own, on occasion. If you can drive the music with your drums, I can handle the melodic parts.”
Crescendo blinked. “You… want to perform with me.”
“You know metal better than I. You can help me keep up with whatever structural gimmicks he unleashes.”
“Won’t your noble buddies think it’s, I dunno, uncouth or something, to play with me?”
“I suspect they’d rather I be uncouth than they be possessed by Thrash and his Guitar,” said Octavia. “Even if they aren’t, I’m not going to do the wrong thing, for the sake of political expediency. I learned my lesson about that.”
“And, you think you can block his music from affecting me too?”
“I believe so. My friend Lyra was able to block three sirens at once from affecting several other ponies, and as good as she is, she has never surpassed me. If I play at my best, I can do it.”
Crescendo slowly nodded. “Well… alright. Yeah. I can do that.” She smiled. “You’re alright. Really thought you’d be all, ‘no, classical is superior, I’m not dealing with metal junk.’”
“I try not to dismiss any genre as ‘junk,’” said Octavia. “And I appreciate you taking a chance on me as well.”
Paperweight grinned. “This is gonna be awesome! You two’ll kick his flank from here to Stalliongrad!”
“I can get my drums and be back here in fifteen minutes,” said Crescendo. “When’s the concert start?”
“About twenty-five minutes.”
“And where’s your cello?”
Octavia paused.
“…back at the castle.”
Paperweight skidded into the castle at a full run, nearly knocking over somepony. “Sorry!” she called. “Emergency!”
Octavia could have made the run, but she’d have arrived completely winded, and wouldn’t have been able to perform. Crescendo was fast enough, but couldn’t get into the castle. As such, it fell to Paperweight to retrieve Octavia’s cello and save the day.
Octavia said she would stall Thrash for as long as she can, but she doesn’t think he’ll wait long. I’ve gotta hurry!
She blasted up the stairs, dodging around the various ponies who got into her way. She had to reach Octavia’s quarters and get the musician’s cello, then hurry it all the way back to Bitzet Theatre. Once she did, Octavia – with Crescendo assisting – could beat Thrash. And maybe they could even dispel his magic on any pony he’d already brainwashed, and that pony could tell the Guards and Thrash could be stopped. But it could only happen if Paperweight did her job well and got the cello.
I just wanted to go to a concert, and now I’m helping to save the city. I don’t—
“Paperweight!”
Night Light?!
Paperweight tried to stop, but tripped and went tumbling into a pile of laundry that one of the castle maids had left out. Shaking a towel off of her head, she quickly bowed. “Viceroy, sir! Hi! I—“
“You’re late for your shift,” said Night Light. He didn’t look friendly, or even stern. He looked – and sounded – quite angry. “By… a few hours. What have you been doing?”
Paperweight took a moment to process that. “Oh, but, but I had tonight off! I filed the paperwork and everything!”
“I never got it,” said Night Light.
“But I know I filed it, I gave it to Bellemane and, and she promised she’d give it to you and I don’t know how it could have gotten lost—“
“Be that as it may, no such paperwork crossed my desk.” Night Light paused. “It’s your first time, and you are normally a very good worker. I won’t hold your lateness against you – but in the future, you must make sure that any requests for time off are appropriately filed, preferably several days in advance.”
“Uh, yes sir!” Paperweight bowed again. “By your leave—“
“Now come along. I need you to run a message to Vicereine Wallflower, that I won’t be available to meet with her tonight and—“
Paperweight blanched. “Uh – um – sir, I’m really, really sorry but I can’t. I have somewhere I really need to be, and if it was any other day I would but I can’t tonight, and—“
Night Light stared. “Are you… refusing?”
“It’s an emergency, and I have to be somewhere else to help save everything, and—“
“What sort of emergency requires a page of the Night Court?” asked a mystified Night Light.
Paperweight opened her mouth to explain, realized that any explanation would sound completely insane, and shut it again. “Er…”
The two stared at each other for several seconds, Paperweight visibly twitching with nervousness. Night Light eventually said, “I am aware of how much your job means to you. I have seen how hard you work, and that you never shirk your responsibilities.”
Paperweight wasn’t sure if she was supposed to respond to that.
“I do try to trust my subordinates, particularly when they have an exemplary record, as you do. Certainly, I’ve never known you to be dishonest, or to lie to evade your duties.” Night Light hesitated again. “Very well. I will trust you, and release you from your duties tonight—“
“Thank you!” said a visibly grateful Paperweight.
“I expect a full report tomorrow on the nature of this ‘emergency.’ I trust that it will demonstrate the… urgent nature of your errand.”
Paperweight bobbed her head. “Yes, sir! Of course sir!”
Night Light gestured vaguely down the hallway, dismissing her. “Then attend to your emergency.”
Paperweight tore off down the hallway in a rush. I’m glad my boss is so understanding… oh, but I need to hurry even more now, that probably took a full minute!
She narrowed her eyes and began charging up the stairs all the faster.
“Thrash.”
Thrash Metail didn’t turn around. He just sighed as one of his groupies continued to massage his hooves. “Wow, mare, you really know how to give a good hoof massage. You should do it fulltime—“
Octavia spun Thrash around, sending the mindless groupie sprawling. “Thrash. This is insane.”
“Octavia! So glad you could make my bigtime debut. I am going to rock those noble’s worlds.” He grinned. “Let me guess, you’re going to threaten to tell all the nobles about me and get them to run away, right? Good luck. These old fogies are so stubborn—“
“No,” said Octavia. “I’m threatening to show them all how mediocre you really are. Unless you back down, I’m going to go on stage with you.”
“I’ll throw you off,” said Thrash.
“And look to all the world like you’re scared of me?”
Thrash narrowed his eyes. “…what exactly are you proposing?”
“We’ll play at the same time for the first piece.” Octavia gestured at the door leading to the stage. “The nobles will pick the winner, and that pony, or their proxy, plays for the rest of the concert.”
“No way. The theatre’s mine. Got the board and the original musician for tonight dancing to my tune—“
“I thought you wanted to be the best in the world.” Octavia grinned, but there was a lot of tooth in it. “How can you be the best if you can’t beat me?”
“I can get you some other time. No need to risk—“
“This is the only time I’ll be at one of your shows, Thrash. You pass up this opportunity, you’ll never see me again. And ponies will know.” She chuckled. “The great Thrash Metail, who entered Canterlot and conquered its music scene, but could never beat Octavia Philharmonica. Who turned down her challenge—“
“Turned down? Who said anything about turning down?” Thrash laughed and hopped up to his hooves. One hoof reached over to the neighboring table, where his guitar rested, and stroked the instrument a few times. “Bring it.”
“Fine. My team against you.”
“Team? The great Philharmonica needs help?”
Octavia shrugged. “Just one pony, but still. If you’re scared—“
“Scared? No way. Bring a dozen ponies if you’ve got ‘em; bring the Canterlot Symphonic. They’ll all be under my spell soon enough.”
Octavia and Thrash glared at each other for a few moments. Thrash broke the silence first. “I am going to take this city by storm, Tavi. They’ll all love me. I promise.”
“Not,” said Octavia, “If I have anything to say about it.”
Thrash peered out from behind the curtain. “Almost full. Where’s your strings, Tavi?”
“That isn’t my name,” growled Octavia.
Crescendo, standing by Octavia, looked nervous. “Octavia, I’m not sure I can beat him by myself—“
“Paperweight will be here. She jokes a lot, but she’s extremely reliable. She’ll work as hard as she has to so that she’s here on time.”
“Hope so.”
“I—“
“Octavia!” Paperweight burst into the backstage area, cello case attached to her back. She dashed past a startled Thrash and a few of his groupies, skidding to a halt in front of the cellist. “I brought your cello! I--“ she broke off into what sounded like a painful gasp. Sweat was streaming down her body, and her mane was in total disarray. She’d clearly run all the way across the city.
Octavia carefully took the cello from Paperweight. “In time too.Thank you, Paperweight.”
Paperweight grinned, then collapsed, panting. “Never… run so fast…”
Octavia helped Paperweight up. “You should leave now. If we fail, you can alert the Guards—“
“No way! I trust you. I’m going to see this through – and I know you’ve still got those tickets.”
“Are you sure?”
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world!” chirped Paperweight.
Crescendo chuckled. “It’s nice to have fans, isn’t it? Real ones, not zombie ones?”
Thrash rolled his eyes but didn’t say anything.
“Yes.” Octavia helped Crescendo to the hall connecting the backstage area with the seating area. “Your seat is in the front row, dead center. Um, the others may object to your… appearance--”
“Bah, I can look silly in support of you. I don't mind.” Paperweight giggled. “Good luck!” She grinned, then trotted off – more slowly than usual, but still with a spring in her step.
Octavia smiled at her friend, then turned back to Crescendo. “Whenever he’s ready. Let’s do this.”
“Yeah.” Crescendo grinned. “Let’s.”
“…Frederick Horseshoepin will not be playing tonight due to illness. In his place, we have quite a treat,” the theatre announcer recited.
The nobles began to murmur, most of them unhappy. Frederick was a rare treat, one they were unhappy of being deprived of.
“Anypony important out there?” murmured Crescendo.
“Half the Court,” said Octavia. “High ranked members too. Duchess Posey, Archduchess Nobility, Duke Sands…”
Her recitation was interrupted by the announcer. “This first piece will be a trio, with Court Musician Octavia Philharmonica…”
Octavia took a deep breath. Here I go. She stepped out onto the stage.
The nobles were there – and the critics, the richest ponies in the city, and the elite among the arts crowd. They stared at her in confusion, not knowing what was going on. Octavia had no response for them. She just began to set up her cello.
“Crescendo…”
Crescendo walked out. She at least seemed to have some idea of what was expected in the venue, opting not to hoot and holler like at her metal show. Still, Octavia could practically feel the confusion and irritation from the audience.
“And Thrash Metail!”
Thrash leapt out on stage. “Hello Canterlot!”
“What is the meaning of this!” yelled out one of the nobles. “We were expecting Frederick Horseshoepin!”
“Freddy’s sick,” said Thrash. “But don’t worry. We can fill in.”
Octavia scowled at him. Thrash grinned. “Alright, alright. Let’s begin.”
He unslung his guitar and summoned his drums. “Shall we?”
Octavia took one last look at the nobles, who were now depending on her, even if they didn’t know it. “Yes.”
Thrash’s horn glowed, and he began to play.
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Night Light being a good pony! Yay!
Oh yes, oh god yes!
....Sirens.....Cursed Sirens....
It seems so obvious, in retrospect.
Something I caught...
Should that be 'Sirens'? Also, sorry. But you can't convince me Night Light isn't someone who doesn't deserve all four legs broken.
Also... 'Devil Went Down to Georgia' for the song?
By the way, there was a small bit that was cut for being extraneous from this chapter. For those interested, here it is:
"What about that Archduke who's always in the paper? Fishermare, or something. Is he here?" asked Crescendo.
"Archduke Fisher of Rushia? No." Octavia rolled her eyes. "Because Equestria is at war, and as the head of the Ministry of War, he feels compelled to attack 'wasteful government programs' that divert funds that could be 'better spent' on supporting the Equestrian military. Such programs, of course, including everything relating to the visual and musical arts. He doesn't attend concerts on 'principle.'"
Mostly, I just wanted to establish that Fisher is the Minister of War (or whatever the equivalent is), largely because I would see his industrial base as producing a large portion of the armor/weapons that the Equestrian military uses. I also wanted to establish him as head of the Rushia province, which includes the ancient, culturally elite, and rich city of Moscolt (Notary's home) and the industrial powerhouse of Stalliongrad (Fisher's home). And also, I like the portrayal of him as that guy who likes cutting the arts for 'productive' stuff, which of course means weapons and armor. But it seemed awkward, so I cut the lines (although I still like that province and position for Fisher).
Point of fact, the guitar might not even be evil, it's just, give that much power to somepony...
1833142: A very true point. I suppose we don't yet know if there's a safe way to wield it.
And now I have the urge to play Guitar Hero III.
Song? Is it "The Devil Went Down to Georgia?"
Either way, I can't wait!
This is becoming unbelievably epic! It's perfect heroic fantasy. Octavia, the Champion of Musical Equestria, versus the deceptive usurper Thrash! I can hardly wait!
fc03.deviantart.net/fs25/f/2008/166/5/e/5ee8dc8b1da38f2ed5db04cd45e99b71.jpg
Octavia should use "Difficulty Up" and "Double" on Thrash whenever she gets the chance - he won't be able to handle the tricky note combinations. Thrash's best bet is probably "Broken String". And hey, if he somehow breaks Octavia's bow, that's a chance to show off that re-stringing technique you were considering. I can't wait to hear Corona go down to Canterlot.
I'm seeing that one of the big themes of this story is "Integrity is rewarded". Octavia is rewarded for her musical integrity by being able to resist Thrash's manipulations (not to mention becoming Court Musician in the first place), and Paperweight is rewarded for her integrity at her job by having Night Light trust her when she says she truly needs to take the night off.
1834855 Of course, she only got the chance to become Court Musician by betraying her friend, then betraying the pony whom she betrayed her friend for, so... Just don't think to hard about that.
1835277: Given what she went through in 'M&D' and 'Symphony,' I think she's suffered enough in penance for that.
And it was only her integrity -- tarnished by Greengrass, but still in existence -- which let her play the Symphony correctly in the first place, when 49 other musicians had tried and failed.
1835288 Yes...but it was still only her dropping her integrity that lead to her getting the chance to play the song.
Still, if we're talking seriously instead of joking around, I agree there with you...at least for the part about her integrity.
1834855: Glad you're enjoying it! I love the idea of a music battle winding up as a sort of heroic fantasy adventure. Music is awesome already, so putting in a somewhat fantasy setting, with magic and stuff, just seems to 'work'.
I'm aiming to finish the story by Christmas -- I see there as being 2 or so chapters left.
Well, that chapter was... disappointing.
Don't get me wrong, I'm still excited for the actual showdown, but this chapter just felt like so much extraneous exposition (and about half of it I take some measure of objection to). It also didn't help that there were several unmarked scene transition that make reading parts of the chapter very confusing.
I did like the bit with Night Lite though, and like I said still looking forward to the next chapter, so hopefully this will all just be a bad hiccup that I can end up ignoring.
Oh my God. Don't tell me you managed to find a metal version of The Devil Went Down to Georgia!!!
OH MY GODDESSES!!! Octavia and Crescendo are going to invent Symphonic Metal!
Rock On!
I'm fairly certain that if "Conspiracy to mindslave the government" is not a crime, it darn well should be! Even if they lack evidence, alerting the guard might be for the best.
And suddenly my "crackpot" theory about how he got his One Ring appears disturbingly possible....
Now, let's get DOWN!