May Our Sun Shine Forever
“No,” Celestia stated tersely.
The opulent meeting hall of Canterlot’s Grand Opera House fell silent, the vast room’s acoustics carrying her disagreement with a slight echo. The princess took the fleeting moment of peace to enjoy her tea while she waited for the inevitable questions to roll out.
The other ponies of the Equestrian Society for the Performing Arts looked between each other, dumbstruck by how abruptly she had objected. By all rights and accounts, this should’ve been the last issue the princess would take to task. Chairmare Woodwind had simply been listing the song selections for the evening until the princess’s unexpected interruption caused her wings to accidentally flare up in shock.
The sprawling, pillared room suddenly felt terribly claustrophobic as the musical ponies exchanged confused and worried glances across the large table. It wasn’t long before most eyes had drifted to rest upon Octavia, seeing a rare instance of the always stoic mare stunned by the unexpected resistance. Even Twilight Sparkle, the princess’s protégé, was at a loss for words.
Princess Luna cleared her throat, the first to break their silence. “Sister, pardon our ignorance on this matter, but is this song not Equestria’s national anthem?”
“It is.”
Luna tarried for a moment. She waited further to hear her sister’s reasoning, but it never came. Celestia remained silent, her eyelids gently closed, simply enjoying her chamomile’s warmth while having nothing to say for herself.
“Your highness,” a yellow-coated unicorn mare started, cautiously protesting against the most powerful pony in the land, “if I could be so bold, May Our Sun Shine Forever is—”
“It is a tired, old song which is played to death, Belldandy. Our little ponies are constantly berated with that familiar melody at every sporting event and large gathering.”
The room again fell quiet. This prestigious concert had been arranged around the notion of celebrating the great works of the ponies of the past with its cornerstone culminating in the rediscovered songs of the Silent Age, which included its most famous song May Our Sun Shine Forever. This lost era of history was a turbulent period following the banishment of Nightmare Moon. It is said in those days that the stars grew dimmer as the visage of the mare in the moon stared down coldly upon all of Equestria. Nopony knew why so much of this “dark period” of history was lost to the steady flow of time, but rumors claim historians named it after the unwillingness of Princess Celestia to speak of it.
The tales proved to be rather accurate, as the news of lost Silent Era literature was the reason Celestia was in attendance today.
“Princess Celestia,” Twilight chuckled as she tapped her forehooves together, wondering how she would best approach correcting her mentor. “This rendition is the original version of the song, not the simplified fanfare we play today. I know it's still only partially reconstructed from what we’ve been able to recover from the source material, but from what I’ve heard of it, the song is quite complex and beautiful in its original form. I barely even recognized the compelling—”
“Be that as it may, I simply wish for you not to play it,” Celestia stated, setting her tea cup and saucer down, letting her eyes slowly open once again. “Surely there is another song from this lost period which would be more fitting for this concert’s history lesson.”
Several murmurs passed around the room as the ponies bounced impromptu ideas back and forth that would meet their ruler’s approval. Luna tilted her head curiously at her sister’s continued stalwart opposition to hearing the song. Celestia tried masking it, but she was avoiding Luna’s bewildered gaze. Joining the moon princess’ curiosity was Octavia, whose demeanor was, as Twilight would later describe to her friends, the textbook definition of incredulity.
Octavia prided herself as a calm and understanding mare. It took a great deal of patience with noble whims and highbrow foolery to attain the status she held now within Canterlot’s upper class. However, such an unreasonable demand, depriving the concert of such an important and close-to-heart work of art, was not only unthinkable, it was utterly contemptible. She stood up, pressing her hooves firmly against the table as she drew herself up quickly from her seat cushion and halting any other conversation.
“But… but…” Octavia fumbled with her words, chasing down some semblance of a sentence. “May Our Sun Shine Forever was the masterpiece of Grand Maestro Glissando! It’s one of the few pieces of music that survived the Silent Era! We were lucky to find a salvageable shred of sheet music, let alone the original!”
Woodwind could almost see the froth from the chaotic emotions swirling within the grey mare. The usual quiet and contemplative mare had been taken to wits end with the simple denial of a song, albeit an important one. Octavia couldn’t help it.
“He wrote it for you. It’s the essence of harmony represented through music,” she stammered with disbelief at the princess’s lack of love for the piece.
“Octavia, please,” Woodwind quavered seeing the young earth pony losing her temper before royalty.
“It practically worships the ground you trot upon! The anthem was his final gift to you that reminds all ponies about how powerful and wonderful you are!”
“That is enough, Octavia,” Celestia said, her brow furrowing slightly.
“The piece alone set the course of traditional music for the past eight hundred years!”
“I said that is enough,” Celestia rose with a warning tone.
“Not even you can deny its importance!”
“ENOUGH!” Celestia yelled in the royal Canterlot voice, causing everypony to slink back, none of whom–save Luna and Twilight–had ever seen such outright angered fervor from the immortal alicorn. “Do not assume I am unaware of our nation’s musical traditions! I was there through all of it!”
Octavia sank down as if she had been caught stealing from the royal cookie jar. She tucked her tail over her cutie mark as if trying to soften the blow from on high. The musician tried her best to look away from those livid, majestic magenta irises bearing the paradoxical eternal youthful glow able to wipe mountains off the face of Equestria with the sheer weight of their ancient age, but her vision was sucked into that pained glower which shook the musician to her core.
Realizing she had overstepped the limits she had set for herself, Princess Celestia sighed, casting her eyes away from all others cowering in the room.
“I am sorry, my little ponies. I know all too well what this song is to Equestria, and what it is to you, dear Octavia,” she apologized, seeing she had frightened everypony. Even Luna had been taken aback. “That being said, you will not play the song, nor will you continue your efforts to further restore this piece, or any others, from the Silent Era songbook. Do I make myself clear?”
The pent-up tension lingering in the wake of her burning anger settled heavily on the shoulders of everypony present who in turn tried to cope with the general unease stifling the flow of air. Many ESPA members had suddenly found their meeting notes to be very interesting as they prayed the room would cool down quickly.
Octavia’s lower lip quivered as she looked forlornly at the princess. All that work for her favorite song was going to be destroyed without reason. Her higher senses wouldn’t dare let her speak out of turn, but her trembling treble clef emblazoned on her flank wouldn’t stand for it.
“Why?” she muttered pitifully, her eyes ready to spill over with hot tears.
“The fault lies with me, please leave it at that. Some things are best left forgotten,” Celestia admitted rather plainly with an underlying sorrow. The princess gathered herself quickly, curtly nodding to the remaining ponies and her sister.
“Everything else seems to be in order,” Celestia stated with a quick ruffle of the papers she’d been going over. “I believe you can handle the rest, my little ponies. If you would please excuse me.”
Steeplechase quickly swished around the tofu steak frizzling on the pan, pouring some more soy sauce on the quickly browning rectangle. His efforts to salvage the main course were interrupted by the simmering bubbles of his stew boiling over the hearth. The talentless cook whipped around to see several carrots flop out from his cast-iron pot into the fires below. He tried grabbing the wooden beam dangling the cast iron pot over the open flames with his hooves, but the poorly fitted bandages wrapped around both his injured pasterns were not helping his loose grip. Next time he went to the market, he vowed to buy a safe vegetable slicer.
“C’mon… not today,” he sourly grumbled to the uncooperative kitchenware through his gritted teeth. This time would be different. This time he would beat dinner at its own game. Tonight was too important to let his lack of culinary skills get the better of him.
As he tried to salvage the stew, he started questioning why he was such a stickler for traditional cooking when it came to his favorite dishes. He fluttered his leathery wings in concentration as he carefully tried removing the volatile cauldron, but the fanning accidentally kicked the flames up to his forehooves. A quick flare catching him by surprise caused him to fall backward onto the ground, flinging the hot pot into the air.
With the click of the back door, Octavia returned home just in time to witness Steeplechase make it rain inside the house.
An unceremonious clang of his kettle rang with cold finality to the remains of the stallion’s sad attempt to make his surprise dinner for two. Octavia blinked seeing the lanky nocturne on his back, splayed on the floor with a cornucopia of steamy vegetables littering his ashen blue coat like a fallen cooking warrior. One particularly poorly placed slice of squash obscured his left yellow slit-eye while its right partner feigned innocence like a mischievous kitten caught after ruining a knitter's ball of yarn. He pulled his lanky legs in while tucking leathery wings to his side as the klutz gave his best fang-filled sheepish grin.
“Hello Honey…” he foolishly fumbled to his wife from the floor while his tofu steak sparked aflame.
After settling for the leftovers of a once fresh fruit salad for dinner, Octavia retired with her husband to the dining room. The moon rose as Octavia’s report from the ESPA fell on bitter ears.
"They can’t do this to us!” Steeplechase boldly flared while slamming his fork down onto the table hard, but not too hard to upset the bandages. “We’re so, so close! We can’t simply let his finest piece be lost now!”
“Princess Celestia said it herself, Steeple,” Octavia sighed as she twirled some cottage cheese and apple slices resting on an errant lettuce leaf.
“Oh, well then that changes things,” he shrank back, pulling a 180 degree turn as he meekly poked an apple slice with his fork. He fumbled it about with the pointy utensil, frowning at the slightly browning sides. “Do you think it’s because Glissando might have been a nocturne?”
“Steeplechase! This is the princess we’re talking about, not some tribalist unicorn with the long end of a trombone stuck up his flank.”
“Please Tavi, not at the table,” he bellowed with dark authority, which was immediately undermined by the wide smirk he couldn’t wipe off his face. He recomposed himself, clearing his throat to get back on topic. “But that just makes me wonder, if her highness doesn’t like the song, why does she allow it to be sung at nearly every public event? In fact, why make it the national anthem to begin with?”
Wasn’t that the million bit question of the evening. Octavia had been trying to rationalize it since Celestia had quickly cantered away from the meeting. The princess’s outright hostility towards the music filled the musician with a looming dread. How could her favorite song could somehow be bad or wrong in the eyes of the princess? Sure, everypony had music they didn’t enjoy, but witnessing Princess Celestia’s overwhelmingly livid reaction felt unwarranted. The fact the princess even hinted at Octavia’s personal attachment to the song didn’t sit well with her either.
“It’s more than my favorite song, Steeple. It’s the foundation for my love of music!”
“I know dear. I’ve lost count of how many variations on its theme you’ve composed. That perpetual earworm is why you have that cute cleft flank.” Octavia nodded along until she realized the poor attempt at a pun. “Hey, I said it was cute.”
Octavia sighed as she drifted back to her salad. It was true, no matter how many times she played May Our Sun Shine Forever, it never grew old or became stale. It was her eternal wellspring of inspiration, much like the pony it was composed for. She took great pleasure in expanding her portfolio with the well-trotted tune, expanding it with new modulations and variations that gave the music new meaning each time she played.
Her fixation on mastering every aspect of song had led her to so many great things: her prominent position in the Equestrian Society for the Performing Arts, her invitation to try out for a seat in the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra of Canterlot, and meeting her charming husband.
“Fruit cup, I don’t think you can win a staring competition against a salad.”
“I’m just thinking,” Octavia mumbled absently.
“Oh my, what a dangerous prospect.”
“Steeplechase.” Using his full name always snapped the bat-for-brains to attention. “There’s a reason I keep a spare cello. Don’t make me use it.”
“You don’t have to remind me. I can still remember your impactful opinion of the last gala.” He placed a hoof on his chin, wincing from the phantom pain from his untimely declaration of love on the worst night of his wife’s life. It took two weeks to recover from the earth pony’s furious blow delivered straight to his face, but on the upside she had said yes. It only took another year, one filled with a discordant hellscape, changeling invasion, and another unfortunate run in with the pony Octavia had started calling Pink Party Devil for the mare to finally say yes again at the altar. “Still worth it, though.”
Another painful silence descended upon the dinner table. Octavia couldn’t bring herself to eat despite her stomach’s protests. The nocturne across the table could barely stand it as his sensitive ears always adjusted to hear the subtle sounds of his wife’s frustration. He had to fill the air with something to cut the oppressive gloom caused by the fate of the tattered tome upstairs.
“What I don’t understand is why the tome even exists in the first place. Didn’t that student of hers find it at that old castle in the Everfree?”
Octavia nodded slowly from the depths of her salad stare.
“I mean, it was two hundred years after Luna’s departure,” Steeplechase added. “The Castle of the Two Sisters had already been abandoned for two hundred years at the time this was penned. How would a songbook she hated find its way wedged between the bookshelves of their abandoned personal collection?”
Octavia shook her head, gaze unbroken from her dinner. Steeple grumbled, jabbing his fork through the cherry tomatoes in her bowl, stirring her from her trancelike state. He chomped down on the poor excuses for fruits and forced them down his throat. He barely held his gag as his face crumpled from the flavor of one of his most hated foods.
“What? Everyone knows if you eat the eyes, you win by default.” He took a quick swig of water to wash the taste away, shivering slightly from the assault on his heightened senses. He knew his gamble had paid off when Octavia chuckled.
"Don't worry, Tavi. I have some fur in this game too," he said, pointing to his own cutie mark: an ancient, jewel-encrusted tome representing his love of historical literature.
Despite Steeple’s best efforts to lighten the mood, the oppression from Celestia’s order still bore down on her. The two newlyweds had made a quick stop on their way to their Las Pegasus honeymoon to visit after the princess’ protégé had invited Steeplechase to see her rediscovered songbook. Twilight was well-read and versed in both research and magic, but after reading Steeplechase’s dissertation on ancient pegasi musicology, she felt his doctoral expertise would prove to be invaluable. They had originally planned to only stay a few hours as they gave a quick survey of her findings, but once the words “Forever” and “Glissando” were deciphered from the singed tips of a certain page of music, Octavia put their plans on indefinite hold.
Now, a month later, an incomplete song, and a honeymoon short, the couple found themselves where they were now: picking at the cold dinner plates of three-day-old leftover “fresh” fruit salad, trying to figure out what to do about their little project they’d been working to recover from the precipice of oblivion.
“It’s not fair,” Octavia finally spoke above a whisper, biting her lower lip in despair. “Why is this happening, Steeple? I… I thought she of all ponies would appreciate her own song. What are we going to do?”
“I don’t know Tavi. I was originally planning on surprising you with the score’s restoration over dinner tonight, but I suppose that’s all quite pointless now,” he huffed despondently as he twirled a bit of onion on his plate.
Octavia felt her heart nearly leap from her throat, along with half-chewed bits of her salad which actually erupted from her sputtering coughing fit. Steeple immediately flew to her side, trying to dislodge an errant strawberry as she cleared her throat.
“You finished?! And you didn’t tell me!”
“Well, I was going to, but a lot happened after that! I nearly boiled my wings off with stew, and I was hungry, and you were so upset that it kind of slipped my mind, and—” Steeple was interrupted by a quick smack across the muzzle.
“Well that was uncalled fo—Mmph!” which was then followed up by a passionate and appreciative kiss. At least, he assumed it was an appreciative kiss. Octavia usually reserved this level of lip service for… well he swore, "if there were any changelings in the vicinity, they would’ve passed out love-drunk on the spot."
She tore herself from his lips, beaming a pearly white smile, which was a rare sight to see from his perpetually-composed wife.
“Show me!”
All the anticipation she had known over the years; birthday bubbliness, Hearth’s Warming Eve shakes, and even her pre-wedding jitters, paled in comparison to simply arriving to her bedroom eager to play her favorite song, the original version, rediscovered in its timeless glory.
The music stand was already set up with her instrument and bow waiting patiently in the corner for their master to bring them together to weave a beautiful symphony of sound. She briefly considered using the piano so she could experience the entire scope of sound waiting within the pages, but the fillyhood thrill of playing it on her beloved constant companion proved to be a far greater desire.
“Now, I must warn you, I haven’t finished deciphering the words yet. His old Equestrian phonetic spelling is proving to be… challenging. Then again, I think I would’ve gotten more than a hoof across the face if you figured out that I had finished transcribing the score and was holding out on you.”
He gently placed the carefully crafted parchment of musical notes in front of his beloved, seeing that familiar glisten in her eyes he had fallen in love with. He couldn’t help feeling envious as he wished she’d look at him like that more often, but now wasn’t the time to get jealous over a silly bit of old sheet music.
She breathed softly as she stood to her hind legs, letting her wooden companion rest comfortably at her side as they looked to each other for support. Inhaling, she brought the bow up to the strings and then, she played.
The first measure danced slowly across the cello’s strings as the instrument wordlessly sang the familiar praises of the immortal sun bringer. She closed her eyes as Princess Celestia always did upon hearing the song fill the air, a habit the grey mare lamely admitted she started emulating when she was a filly. Though it was far greater in power and complexity, Octavia knew the song almost instinctively, risking only opening her eyes occasionally so as to not ruin the wonderful imagery the soundscape brought to her mind.
Every strum was upbeat and meaningful, taking glorious strides with every note as if it was meant to accompany the steady rise of the first light of morning. The little anthem she had grown up playing felt so small now, like a tiny candle’s light drowned in the noon sun. Glissando’s masterpiece demanded full attention of the listener. It boldly cheered in triumph with every passing measure, unleashing its overpowering torrent of sound without equal. Octavia resonated with her instrument in a way she had never felt before as she neared the end of the movement.
It was her destiny to play this magical music.
“Marvelous! Simply marvelous!” Steeplechase pounded the ground in applause. His fangy grin spanned ear to ear as he applauded his wife’s beautiful rendition.
Octavia flared her eyes open, feeling precious tears in her eyes. Why would Celestia ever want to silence this? Did she fear the song’s glory would be too great for the modern performers to play? She would work night and day to perfect its playing before…
“Umm… fruit cup?”
Octavia sniffled, wiping some errant moisture from her muzzle as she wordlessly asked “what?” with her soft, mulberry eyes.
“Aren’t you going to continue?”
Octavia blinked several times, looking to see she indeed hadn’t finished the song. To her surprise, there were still three pages left. Flipping to the next movement, she once again started playing, the notes still thrumming with the embodiment of Celestia’s power, but the familiarity faded as the measures rolled on. Octavia lowered her bow as she peered curiously at the sheet music before her.
Steeple blinked a few times, waiting for the performance to continue until he saw his wife’s eyebrow shoot up. Her “adorably curious face” he liked to call it.
“Something wrong, love?”
“This… this is completely new…” she trailed, tapping the pages with her bow. “Are you sure this is still the same song?”
Shooting an inquisitive look of his own, he flew up to the ceiling, hanging upside down from his hind legs while retrieving the pages on the music stand. He flipped through his notes with his wing as he quietly hummed several notes to himself.
“Well, isn’t that interesting? It appears our modern rendition was missing over half the work!” he chuckled to himself as he continued admiring the hoof of the grand maestro.
“But are you sure it is the same song?”
“Hmm… well from what the songbook’s formatting, this isn’t a new song, though it appears to be a great departure from the rest of the piece. Anyway, we won’t know for sure until you try playing it. After all, most of my assumptions are based upon your 'healthy obsession,' my little Glissando fanatic.”
He carefully placed the sheet music back on the stand, deftly dodging several bow strikes from his bemused wife’s playful ire for teasing her passion. He flipped back down in front of her, tapping the rim of the stand to attention before calling for his wife to start from the top.
Octavia loosed her bow against the strings once more, releasing the series powerful notes of the lost portions of May Our Sun Shine Forever. She read each line carefully, thinking at first she was missing the notes, yet each thunderation still bore the same ferocity of the first parts of the song. It was a pressure wave of a vastly different and darker nature. It was as if the song had modulated to a different key entirely to change what once was joyous performance into something cruelly luminous and bitter.
The underlying tones of each strum bore a deathly, almost sickening sound. Reading the notes of the parts she wasn’t playing, she could hear the ghostly sounds spitting bitter resent as she followed the rough flow. She reached a series of whole notes, risking that familiar shut eye to see what her mind’s eye would imagine.
The sun burned blindingly overhead, bigger and brighter than she had ever seen. The thrums from her cello shook the very foundations of the world as the anthem sat in judgment over the wicked. What once were the sun's ministrations giving life to the land had sparked into a brilliant firestorm, cleansing the ground of corruption and destroying all those who opposed it. Searing solar winds swept her face as the brilliant celestial ball approached. Sweating, she gripped her bow tightly as she continued to play for the sun’s almighty glory.
It was a call to worship Equestria’s goddess; to praise the sun or be purged by her everlasting holy flame.
The song ended prematurely with Octavia snapping the A string with an errant bow strike, causing the tense breakage to flare up and whip her in the face. She yelped in pain as the errant string viciously thrashed her across her muzzle, barely missing her left eye as it wrapped to the back of her head, cleanly cutting a ridge across her once fair complexion.
“Octavia!”
Her rear hooves wavered. She grasped onto her instrument and bow with great care as she weakly tumbled to the ground. She used her body as a cushion, saving her precious cello from a sudden impact with the hardwood flooring. Steeple tried to pick her up, but she refused to move, cradling her damaged cello like a precious filly, apologizing profusely for hurting it.
Refusing to let go of the instrument, she couldn’t be bothered with the fact she was now bleeding from a cut across her muzzle and good portion of her face. She simply wanted to lie there with her oldest and closest friend, hoping it would forgive her.
A quick visit to the hospital and a day at work later, Octavia walked somberly into her house, her face slightly scarred from the errant string. The doctor assured her the day before that her fur would grow over it, but the good news did little to help the gloom hanging over her. She tepidly opened the door to the darkened house, wondering if Steeple had made any progress on the translation.
She saw her husband hunched over his desk, still pouring over the various notes stacked around him. On either side of him sat a myriad of translation books and pages of old nocturnal script borrowed from the royal library. Steeple hadn’t noticed his wife’s return until his tufted ears twitched upon hearing the door close behind his wife. She approached sheepishly as he sighed, wishing he didn’t have to answer the inevitable questions.
“It was a call for retribution, Octavia,” Steeple morosely started, resting his forehead on his hoof as he cast his sorrowful gaze towards his wife. “I wasn’t expecting the latter half of the song to be phonetically spelling words in ancient nightscript, but it makes sense. The second movement appears to be composed specifically to strike fear into those who would follow a path away from what he called the 'Celestial Light.' I suppose the maestro wanted to strike fear into nocturnes or any other creatures that they assumed spoke the language.”
The exhausted historian reached for his translation notes as he cleared his throat to read the basic meaning of the song. “The first movement is much like the song we use today, but it doesn’t just dwell on Princess Celestia, it speaks of 'blessed keepers of the sun’s precepts,' the Celestials. Without any written history, I can’t claim to know who or what they were, but the first movement’s purpose seems to bolster morale. It was meant to strengthen their resolve before facing those who would seek to bring what they referred to as 'the accursed night.'
“It goes on to praise Princess Celestia—sorry, that isn’t strong enough. It is a hymn of triumph that worships their Goddess Celestia, and her victory over the…” he trailed as he choked on his words. “It sings of her victory over the one who would bring never-ending sorrow in the veil of night and mentions Princess Luna by name.”
Octavia waited for him to continue, blinking several times in confusion. She was trying to figure out why he had stopped, but soon was answered with a timid quaver.
“The second movement is one of condemnation. The visceral hatred they spit at Princess Luna’s name is… it’s overwhelming. The Celestials knew who Nightmare Moon was, Octavia, yet they speak as if Princess Luna and Nightmare Moon are one and the same!”
The gray mare trembled under the weight of his report. She rose a hoof to begin asking him so many questions, but she could find those answers on her own by simply reading the notes he had painstakingly drafted. Steeplechase stood up and laid his leathery wing across her back as he tried to offer something... anything to help his love.
“Octavia, you don’t have to read it if—”
She shook her head back and forth in despondent disagreement. It wasn’t a matter of wanting to or not. She needed to see the original’s lyrics, not just a vague summation.
With a shaky hoof, she retrieved the translation notes from the table, her husband keeping a steady wing across her back as they both sat upon the living room couch. She flipped to the front page and began reading the words line by line. Like he said, the first stanzas spoke of the enrapturing beauty of the immortal goddess Celestia, shining in power like the sun she moved across the sky and bringing harmony to the world. The worshipers of their mighty deity, the Celestials, placed her on such a high pedestal. In their eyes, she could do no wrong and was the only one worthy of the gift of everlasting life.
Her eyes wandered across the page, skimming through what was familiar. As she approached the final stanza, she thought back to the song she grew up with. The modern lyrics spoke of a few of these precepts, but not in such fervent worship of some divine sun goddess. Sure, the princess could be hard to approach to the point many ponies deem her untouchable, but infallible divinity? She wondered where such ideas had come from in the first place.
Seeing the lines end on the page, she tepidly shuffled to the next page to see the first lyrics of the second movement. The transition was that of a setting sun, the glorious light of day yielding to the coming of the night. She remembered how sudden the shift in tone was as the song took a dramatic shift leading into Nightmare Moon. At least, that’s what the notes seemed to indicate until she saw the mare of darkness’s name crossed out and replaced with Princess Luna, or 'Luna, our Malevolent Nightmare' as the Celestials called her.
Hatred, deception, treason, and all forms of dark intent were attributed to Princess Luna. To them, Luna wasn’t a victim; she had always been Nightmare Moon, just waiting for a proper time to destroy harmony and expunge the divine light of the sun. She wasn’t Princess Celestia’s beloved sister who had gone missing due to the Nightmare’s influence, she was the demon playing the part of the ultimate adversary.
They bore such visceral malice towards Luna. The very stars were described to be the lost souls she had devoured during her short reign, desperately trying to bring back the glorious light of day from beyond. It was then that their contempt was laid before the princess of the sun, the one who would judge Luna and those living in shadow with light and holy flame. If she were to ever return, the Celestials pledged their undying loyalty to their goddess to…
The notes slipped through the failing grip of Octavia’s hooves as she couldn’t finish the line. She hadn’t noticed how utterly cold she was, like the last dying leaf on a withered tree in winter, shivering with decay. She squeezed herself tightly in a curled ball on the floor and wanted to deny it all, trying to hide her face from the waning daylight pouring in from the window, and firmly clenching her eyelids shut trying to make it all go away.
In the world behind her eyes, memories of playing the song for a royal audience all came flooding back to her. Every time she played the anthem or one of her variations on the arrangement, without fail the princess would shut her eyes. What she thought was an expression of deep fondness for being lost in the song’s beautiful melody took on a completely different meaning.
The princess froze like a statue as she steadily breathed to keep herself calm. Behind that resolute mask feigning musical appreciation was a slew of darker memories being drawn up from within. Every note whipped against her as she stewed in silent lamentation. The song would have her face against her beloved sister and the monster she became that fateful night every time. And yet, she took the melodious beating without complaint, every time, with 800 years of patient practice.
“It can’t be. It just can’t be. Why would she?” Octavia choked just barely above a whisper as her eyes shot open in revelation. It suddenly made sense why the princess never spoke of the Silent Age. If this song was the prevailing theme from that era…
“May Our Sun Shine Forever is a fanatical plea for Princess Celestia to murder her sister!”
Octavia’s beautiful world shattered. She was pulled into Steeple’s folding wings and forelegs as she sought what little consoling she could find in his embrace.
Weeks later, after the entire performance had been approved and finalized by the princess, the Canterlot Grand Opera house was packed to the rafters for “The Histories of a Thousand Notes” concert series. So far, the benefit concert hosted by Princess Luna and the Equestrian Society for the Performing Arts seemed to be going off without a hitch.
Princess Celestia knew her sister would enjoy herself. Luna often spoke of her love of music and how she could sometimes hear the stars themselves sing at night. But it had been Luna’s idea to expand it from a small regal affair to a full-blown celebration of music for all to enjoy. With royal funding to pay for the venue and other expenses, the financial focus was now geared towards the raising of bits and awareness for charities benefiting orphaned and underprivileged fillies and colts, which had drawn the attention of many high society socialites and hopefuls ready to give to the cause.
Whether the high profile donors were giving out of the goodness of their hearts or for the recognition had yet to be seen, but their money was good regardless of the motive.
The usually reclusive Princess Luna particularly was enjoying herself, witnessing all the great progress in music Equestria had made in her absence and the history behind it. Every introduction that Charimare Woodwind gave before the various orchestras moved on to the next set of scores captivated the princess as she joined everypony in experiencing the wonders of Equestria’s rich musical chronology.
The concert had opened with several smaller groups performing the early works of the three pony tribes, first played separately as each race had their own instrumentation until all three units joined together, harmonizing in several songs generally reserved for Hearth’s Warming Eve. Princess Luna happily sang along with the carols she knew from back then and quickly took note of the ones she would need to rehearse before the next holiday season.
The concert series celebrated the evolution of music with the best musical minds Equestria had to offer. Even the Crystal Empire had been invited to play once Princess Cadence and Shining Armor had made sure the thousand-year-old Crystal Imperial Orchestra would be up to the task. Barring the time crystal ponies had spent spirited away, many of the members hadn’t held an instrument in years with the terrible rise of King Sombra.
The crystal ponies hadn’t disappointed. Their set ended with several concertos in a row, unsurprisingly centered on a trio of traditional flugelhorns. Their last note left the crowd’s hooves thundering in applause as curtains fell for the next intermission. Luna was emphatically stomping along and blowing high pitched whistles through her teeth in deep appreciation for their contribution and lovely performance, to the hot embarrassment of several highborn ponies around her. Out of every pony there, Princess Luna was easily the one having the best time.
“I am so glad you allowed me to organize this concert, dear sister!” Luna shouted with a hardy foreleg embrace, knocking the wind from her elder sister’s lungs. “We have not heard such music in a terribly long time, have we not?”
Celestia said nothing, but smiled warmly, giggling a little as she leaned into her sister’s hug. She couldn’t have been more proud of her Lulu starting to come out of her shell. Ever since Nightmare Night, she had become more and more like her old self again. The older sister was going to do everything in her power to make sure that Luna would always be appreciated and never have to suffer in the shadows again.
“It pleases me that you attended, Tia. We—I had worried that you would find reason to be absent after your initial reluctance to allow Mrs. Melody to play the national anthem.”
The princess of the sun closed her eyes, breathing in slowly and exhaling calmly, thinking back to how Octavia had begged her to at least allow one of her own renditions of that damnable song to be played. Gathering her strength, she opened her eyes to meet the concerned gaze of her sister.
“It is nothing for you to be concerned with, Lulu. I am simply glad you are enjoying yourself.”
“I am glad you permitted her to play one of her other renditions this evening. I have heard Mrs. Melody's most stunning performance of the piece before, and it would be a shame not to hear it tonight.
“I suppose. It is a tradition, after all.”
“I do not see why you find them so uncomfortable. In fact, why would you make it our national anthem if it displeases you so?”
“We fear we know not of the discomfort to which thou dost refer, dear Luna,” Celestia answered with the utmost emphatic sincerity.
“…Of course,” Luna replied as she lowered herself back onto the royal lunar cushions with increased apprehension. While her slip-ups were common, It usually took a great deal of stress for her sister to unwittingly slip into the traditional tongue.
Steeplechase stole a quick peek at the audience; the rather large, rather upper class, and rather nocturne-less audience. The lights were bright enough to melt his sensitive eyes and burly exterior to reveal a tiny, batty colt trembling in stage fright. He wasn’t one to perform in front of large groups, much less an excessively packed Grand Opera House full of snooty nobles.
“Octavia, I don’t know if I can do this.”
The seasoned performer, with her years of experience behind her bow tie, placed a supportive hoof on her husband’s withers. Wishing to see the brilliant smile she showed him in private, he was instead met with the cool, aloof facade of the noble performer she wore in public. The professional furrowed a bemused brow towards the rookie tenor's anxiety. He wished, for his sake, she could be just a little more warm, hearing the reassurances from his beloved wife rather than the scoffs of a cold cellist.
“You’ll do fine, Steeplechase. Just pretend you’re singing in the shower.” she stated saying with little emotion belying her flat words.
“B-but Honey, the acoustics in our bathroom are terrible!”
“I know,” she curtly replied with a small smirk. “Singing in an amphitheater should be a trot in the park by comparison.”
She punctuated her point with a quick peck on his cheek before resuming her public persona to assist Fredric Horeshoepin with setting up the piano. Before he could properly recollect himself, the intermission ended, Chairmare Woodwind once again taking her place behind a spotlighted podium just off stage.
“Welcome back to The Histories of a Thousand Notes, everypony. Please join me in thanking the Crystal Imperial Orchestra once again for that wonderful performance before the intermission!” A deep rumbling of hooves sounded once again to their special musical guests of the evening.
“I am so pleased that you were able to join us for this benefit concert supporting Warming Hooves of Hoovington and other charities seeking to help orphaned fillies and colts in foster care finally find loving homes. We of the Equestrian Society for the Performing Arts happily join our hooves with other like-minded musicians and our beloved Princess Luna to ensure that nopony’s song is ever lost before it can begin.”
Princess Celestia noticed the nonchalant glance Woodwind shot up to the royal balcony where the two sisters sat, waiting for permission to continue with the scheduled program. Celestia smiled, nodding to the pegasus, confirming she was okay with proceeding as planned.
“Speaking of lost songs, we have a special treat tonight arranged by the ESPA’s very own Octavia Melody. She and other members of our organization will be performing one of her own interpretations of Grand Maestro Glissando's classic anthem, May Our Sun Shine Forever. This piece is unique not only for its prominence in our national identity, but it is also the only song we have today with roots dating back to the Silent Age. Though the original has long been forgotten, we instead invite you to experience Mrs. Melody's rendition of one of the most influential pieces of music we all share today."
Celestia took a deep breath in preparation for hearing the old, familiar tune played once again.
‘Stoic, silent, and understanding… stoic, silent, and understanding…’ she kept repeating to herself as she braced to disregard her former student’s cursed words still ringing in her mind. The memories still burned clearly as the day Glissando had channeled his talent for music into a genocidal battle hymn.
“Now, without further delay,” Woodwind said excitedly with a quick flourish of her wings as she flew to the opening curtain. “Please join me in welcoming the Equestrian Society of Performing Arts’ leading classical members: Francis Horseshoepin on grand piano, Belldandy Jingles on the tubular bells, Octavia Melody on cello, and I, Woodwind Ensemble, will be playing the feather-flow clarinet,” she said as she flared open her wings, letting her feathers cover the small slits in the instrument.
Barely listening to the rumbling hooves welcoming the musicians to the stage, Princess Celestia’s thoughts were dragged kicking and screaming back over eight centuries as the baneful thoughts ran through her mind:
No… I will not allow you to taint her name further for generations with such bitter hatred! You demand a purge of the unrighteous? I would sooner reduce this infernal cathedral to cinders before I yield to your damnable musings!
All of the little mistakes she had permitted, hoping they would resolve themselves without her heavy hoof to direct them. Their fear of Nightmare Moon burned into hatred of her precious Luna and all things of the night. She then turned her sun against them and drove Glissando to the edge. This is what she deserved. It was what she would always deserve.
Her painful reminiscence was interrupted by an unexpected additional call from Woodwind.
“And please give a round of applause for our special guest, our very own historian of musicology, Doctor Steeplechase Melody, who will be providing his wonderful tenor voice for the lyrics.”
To everypony’s surprise, a nocturne adorned with a long, flowing robe of deep blue and white strode onto the stage. Princess Celestia recognized him immediately as the ESPA's librarian. The mantles of the sun and moon sewn into his fabric glistening the spotlight that shone down on him. He carried himself with confidence, only wincing ever-so-slightly at the brightness, as well as when the murmurs of several confused and arrogant nobles started conferring with one another to determine why a night dweller was standing under it.
In contrast, Luna giggled in delight, pointing emphatically to the presence of the lone nocturne on stage. It warmed her heart to see representation of the commonly overlooked pony tribe playing a central part of the piece while Celestia looked down in hesitant confusion.
Octavia’s renditions never contained any lyrics. The vocals were always replaced by an instrument serving as the driving force of the arrangement. She recomposed herself, breathing again deeply and slowly as she sat patiently waiting for what seemed like eternity for the music to begin. She heard the instruments begin slowly and powerfully as they played the exposition of the familiar anthem.
Gloria Celestia
Beloved bringer of the sun…
The recognition was immediate. Celestia’s eyes flared open upon hearing those words cross the stallion's lips as he began singing the original lyrics of the piece. They had gone against her, restoring that accursed, shameful work to its infernal glory behind her back!
The rest of the audience was immediately captivated by the song’s sheer beauty. Many ponies shared a distinct awestruck silence as if they were hearing the overplayed anthem for the very first time. It wasn’t the simple melody anypony with the slightest ear for music could pick out on a piano. Instead, the majesty of the melody being sung by Steeple was only the launching point for the accompanying instruments to shine forth, bringing further illumination to its audience.
His solemnly sung words reminded everypony that their immortal princess did not solely exist as an untouchable diarch who raised the sun, but she was a beautiful pony worthy of their love. The bells' and clarinet’s tender movements exemplified all her timeless, unchanging qualities in a song of devotion to express her constant desires for a peaceful and prosperous Equestria.
“Oh my,” Princess Luna chuckled as the song continued to shower praises upon her sister. “I suppose I can see how one would be embarrassed by such lavish and wonderful… praise?”
Luna’s words failed her as she saw a side of Celestia boiling under her collected exterior she had not seen since returning from her banishment. The elder sister’s lower lip trembled as her entire body seized up, locking her legs in place as if she was trying desperately to restrain herself, not even risking a movement that could weaken her waning resolve to let the song play.
“Sister?” Luna whispered, pawing a hoof across her sister’s shoulder as she tried to snap Celestia back down to Equestria.
“How dare they…” Princess Celestia's faltering voice bitterly seethed as she tried keeping her ire in check. The mask she wore was quickly collapsing under the gravity of her own sun being forced upon her.
Luna tried to get a clearer answer as to what was wrong, but was met with silence. Celestia waited, hoping the score would end soon. Perhaps they had the foresight to stop there or they never finished restoring the original fully and salvaged what they had. She loosened the fetters holding her in place, hearing the song had finished the last verse of what she and she alone knew was the first part.
The music stopped. Celestia released a breath she didn't realize she was holding and readied her hooves to give an obligatory applause. But then, a low thrum from Octavia’s cello ushered in the start of the second movement.
“No…” Celestia quavered as the music continued, the familiar measures embodying the last flickers of twilight coming into view.
How could they do this? Such disregard for the song’s visceral hatred towards her beloved little sister, and they had the gall to revive it and force a nocturne to sing of the death of all his race! She wouldn’t let them slip a single word of malice, not while she had anything to say about it. The princess stood to her hooves, startling those around her as she flared angrily. Her horn shone brightly, readying for a hasty teleport. She was going down to put a stop to this madness before it had a chance to start. That was until she was interrupted by Steeplechase’s shrill cry.
“Be still, dear princess!” Steeplechase shrieked rather than sang, his voice cracking upon seeing Princess Celestia ready her magic. He realized he had started far too early as the music repeated the last few measures to recuperate. He waited for his proper cue, blushing all the while as Sir Francis’ glare shot daggers into the back of his head.
Be still, dear princess,
Be not afraid.
For still do we cherish,
The night she hath made.
The light from Celestia’s horn faded. The unfamiliar lyrics halted her charge, as though they had been written to intentionally stop her from interrupting the song.
And though thy sorrow,
Ours cannot compare.
We join thee in mourning,
Thy loss to Nightmare.
Luna blinked several times, realizing the song had shifted to her. Confused by both Celestia’s near jump start and the song itself, she hastily tapped Celestia’s flank, trying to grab the elder’s attention. The prodding finally brought Celestia out of her stupor as Celestia lowered herself back down to the royal solar cushions.
“Sister, you said our ponies had forgotten me after this ‘Silent Era.’ Why do they sing as if they know of my banishment?”
The elder princess remained silent as she listened closely to the song as it unfurled before her. What was once a malicious call to arms had been turned on its head. The melody carried with it a feeling of tragic emptiness. The beautiful bells and cheerful clarinet had dominated the first movement glorifying her as champion of the sun, the cello and piano took center stage as they reaffirmed the tenor's words as he sang of the somber loss all Equestria suffered when the keeper of the moon and stars had been tragically taken away from them.
Celestia remained silent, keeping her eyes locked onto the performers. It was a somber tale, filled with despair and desperate wishes for her precious Luna to return, safe and loved. It recounted the slow churning of time where a woebegone princess would mourn for her lost, beloved sister. The vitriol that had once crescendoed in the maestro’s plea for Celestia to crush Luna under her hooves had been replaced with those terrible, final moments before Nightmare Moon's banishment using the Elements of Harmony and the disappearance of Princess Luna.
The pieces of Celestia's broken heart were laid out for all to see as she took her place as Equestria's lone ruler. As soul crushing as it was hopeful, the methodical passage of time waited and slowed, as if the song itself was taking centuries to finish. With the second movement drawing to a close, Princess Celestia recomposed herself, readying to teleport down to the stage, that is until an unexpected third movement sprang to life.
Octavia hadn’t opened her eyes since they had started playing. She was currently in denial, telling herself that what she couldn’t see wouldn’t hurt her. As long as she didn't meet the princess's hot glower, she wouldn't "spontaneously" burst into flames. Seeing as everypony on stage was still breathing, there was a tiny hope that her liberal use of poetic license had stayed the royal hooves long enough for her to finish playing the song.
She knew going in that she was going to have to answer for going against what probably amounted to a royal decree. Still, the cellist took solace in the fact that everypony was playing at their finest, barring the minor slip-up her frantic husband had squeaked early at the start of the second movement for whatever reason.
The beloved instrument thrummed in her hooves as Octavia played it with passion. Each instrument now was playing in harmony, each instrument bouncing back and forth in a playful fight for prominence as both the sun and moon had been reunited. Of course, there was no third part of the grand maestro’s masterpiece. She had written it herself by including elements from both parts, forming the two into one cohesive finale.
Slaving away night and day rebuilding the work from the ground up in a little over three weeks had not been easy, but she refused to let one terrible stallion’s condemnation ruin the most important song in her life. No longer would his song of silence mar the beauty of Equestrian musical tradition. To her, it was her destiny to correct his disharmonious flaws. This was her song.
The music now belonged to Octavia Melody alone!
…Admittedly, with some helpful and creative insight from Steeplechase, but still!
Dwelling on the music filling her mind, the sun and moon danced freely within Octavia’s imagination. The clouds parted as the heavens opened up, granting their light freely to everypony singing along with them in a harmonious Equestria. It was just as it should be: all ponies of every tribe lifting up the banners of night and day to celebrate the two immortal sisters. Once separated by an impossible chasm, the two sisters happily reunited as they soared across the heavens in sunbeams and starlight.
The resolution of peace drew to a close as the tenor held its glorious final lyric of unification. The final bells rang out, the piano held its chord, the clarinet flared its last notes, and Octavia’s cello thrummed its last reverberating string, drawing the celebration to a close.
There was a pause. A generous pause as nopony made a motion. Octavia lowered her bow, risking opening one eye, expecting a contingency of royal guards waiting to arrest them just off stage. Instead, the rumbling of hooves began slowly until the floodgates opened, releasing a deluge of applause shaking throughout the opera house like a wild stampede.
She looked to the royal box to see Princess Luna cheering passionately. However, Princess Celestia was strangely absent from her seat. The applause suddenly died as the audience’s eyes locked onto the right side of the stage.
Octavia risked glancing over her shoulder seeing Princess Celestia stepping on stage, approaching the performing ponies from behind the podium. Octavia gulped as the immortal alicorn drew closer to them, shrinking back for blatantly disobeying her wishes. Before she realized it, everypony else on stage was already bowing, which Octavia quickly followed suit once she realized she was breaking decorum in her fear. Octavia’s trembling nearly caused her to slip as she lowered her head. She clung to her cello for balance.
“Rise, my little ponies,” Celestia commanded with warm dignity. “You needn’t bow on behalf of my intrusion.”
The performers rose slowly, exchanging furtive glances as the princess approached the cellist.
“Octavia Melody,” she addressed clearly, jerking the nervous mare to complete attention. “You ignored my direct orders to cease your work on the songs of the Silent Age and clearly acted against my wishes.”
Woodwind’s pupils shrank to pinpricks as she suddenly realized why she hadn’t heard this particular arrangement. Octavia and Steeplechase had both assured her it was definitely not the original that Celestia clearly forbade them from playing. She glared at Octavia with a mother’s glower, burning with disappointment at being lied to by two of the most trusted members of ESPA. Octavia lowered her head, feeling like scum not even worth being scraped off the side of a gutter.
“I-I’m sorry, Princess,” Octavia apologized, trying to find some word to make it all better. She chewed on her lower lip while her darting eyes caught the clef on her flank, reminding her of where all the inspiration in her life came from.
“I just couldn’t let it go.”
“Please,” the princess uncharacteristically quavered, “you have nothing to apologize for.”
Octavia paused as she felt something moist drip on her head, she lifted her head to see its source. Where she thought she would see the same burning gaze that she had fallen under weeks before was something else entirely.
Celestia wept.
The princess was weeping openly in front of all her little ponies. Some had joined her in the heat of the moment. Octavia had never seen anything like it. She doubted anypony else had either.
“It has been so, so long since I have been able to truly enjoy my little Glissando’s music. You succeeded where he failed, and where I failed him, by capturing the essence of how I always wanted Luna to be remembered during her absence. Never has the sorrow I felt every day for a thousand years been told so beautifully.
“I am eternally grateful, Octavia Melody, for blessing all of us with a song I can truly cherish now and forever.”
The alicorn folded her massive wing over a dumbstruck Octavia, pulling the musician into a tight hug. She barely mustered to whisper a heartfelt “thank you” before she continued her crying on Octavia’s shoulder. The smaller pony’s face quickly flushed pink and then burned to a hot bright red from the blunt display of public affection in front of probably all of the Canterlot nobility. Octavia’s aloof mask of indifference fell to pieces as she stammered drawn out “uhh’s” and “umm’s” having completely destroyed who she thought was an impregnable, alabaster tower.
She wasn’t sure if she was sweating from her frayed nerves, the bright lights, or the physical strain she was under while hugging the full weight of the nearly collapsed princess while standing on two legs. It wasn’t often she was thankful for being born an earth pony, but her innate strength along with carrying a cello on her back for years kept her from falling under her massive ruler’s weight.
Despite her embarrassment and mild discomfort, Octavia couldn’t help plastering a foolishly giddy grin of relief across her face. The eager musician couldn’t wait for the next time she would be able to play her new favorite song:
The Heavens Will Shine Forever