Login

Symphony for Moon and Sun

by GrassAndClouds2

Chapter 16: True loyalty

Previous Chapter Next Chapter

Lyra frowned. Where was Octavia?

The cellist always liked to be at a venue at least an hour and a half before the curtain. In fact, she was fanatical about arriving that early. It gave her time to check her tuning, make sure the venue was set up to her standards (and fix it if it wasn’t), and have a few minutes to calm herself before the show.

But now it was thirty minutes to curtain, and there was no sign of the mare.

The event was ostensibly a party to celebrate the signing of a treaty with some southern country. Lyra wanted to enjoy the food and other entertainment – there was a jester show going on at the moment -- but she couldn’t keep herself distracted by thinking of that. Octavia should have arrived at least an hour ago, but she was not present. She hadn’t even sent word that she’d be late.

She could have been running behind due to practicing; as she’d predicted the other day, she may have been delayed by some kink or rough patch in the Symphony.

She could be stuck in some sort of traffic jam; maybe construction had shut down a road or closed a bridge.

Or…

No. She did not flake. I know she didn’t. She wouldn’t. She is my friend and she wouldn’t leave me hanging – and she wouldn’t surrender without even fighting for her career. She shook her head slightly. I will not doubt her. She did not flake, and she will arrive in time.

She nodded to herself and shifted slightly in her seat. Yes. Octavia would be here to perform, and--

“Excuse me.” A unicorn in a regal outfit had approached her while she’d been distracted. “Miss… Heartstrings, was it?”

“Yes.” I don’t remember him from that concert I gave a few months back. So if he knows me, it’s probably because I’m an Element. Great. I don’t need this now…

“My name is Prince Blueblood. Allow me to formally welcome you to the Night Court,” he said. “I do hope you enjoy yourself.”

“Thanks.” Lyra tried to smile at him. “I intend to.”

“You know, I think I read about you in the paper.” Blueblood smiled, but it was obviously fake. “Ah, yes, you’re helping Philharmonica with her concert, aren’t you?” He shook his head. “I’m sorry that she hasn’t arrived.”

“She will.”

“Well… of course, we all hope that.” Blueblood shrugged. “But who knows? I’m sure you’re aware of the reputation of this piece, and—“

“She will be here.” Lyra stood. “I am certain of it.”

“I’m sure you are. You seem like a most… loyal friend. But in case she isn’t quite as loyal and runs away, well, there could be some political fallout. The Princess might well be upset at any pony who was involved.” He smiled again, still clearly faking it. “You know, I have some influence with the Princess. If you wanted, Miss Heartstrings, I could try to ensure that she understood it wasn’t your fault.”

Lyra raised an eyebrow. “And in exchange?”

“Oh, nothing much. But, well, you’re a bit special, Miss Heartstrings. An Element and all. So—“

As she thought. “I’m not interested,” she said, turning away.

“I – now, see here, Miss Heartstrings.” Blueblood frowned. “If Miss Philharmonica doesn’t show, and you don’t have protection, it could damage your career. Permanently. Nopony associated with this piece has ever performed again. You need a patron.”

“I said no.” Lyra glared at him. “I trust Octavia a lot more than I trust you.”

Blueblood looked stunned. “Do you know who I am?”

“Yeah, Trixie Lulamoon told me about you.”

“Well, I don’t know what that fool—“

“I say!” Fancy Pants trotted over. “Is everything alright? You two look almost… agitated!” He shook his head. “This is a party. A celebration! We shouldn’t be fighting.” He smiled genially.

Blueblood glanced at him. “No trouble here. I was just stepping away, actually. Good luck, Miss Heartstrings.” He smiled. “I’ll be back later.”

When he was gone, Lyra sighed. “Thanks.”

“Oh, think nothing of it.” Fancy Pants grinned. “By the way, I couldn’t help overhearing a bit of that. I also think Miss Philharmonica will arrive. She’s never missed a concert yet.”

“No, she hasn’t.” Lyra nodded. “And she won’t miss this one.”



Don’t move. Don’t talk. Don’t even think. Mere existence is more than you deserve!

Octavia knew there were arguments against that; she knew that she believed them now, but she couldn’t come up with them. Her thoughts were scattered and disjointed, and whenever she started trying to organize them, they slipped away like grains of sand. It was only very recently that she had stopped believing these things; they were still too fresh and raw for her to have internalized any defenses against them. She could figure out, vaguely, what she was supposed to do – getting up would be a good start, followed by leaving the warehouse – but she couldn’t hold onto those ideas long enough to implement them.

Just stay perfectly still. Maybe if you don’t interact with anypony, you won’t hurt them. Has anypony ever benefitted from knowing you? You reduced Lyra to tears, every colleague you ever know dropped you the minute things got hard… and there’s a reason for that, you know, it’s that you aren’t worth trying to save!

“No…” she groaned. “Stop it, please…”

The room was unusually dark, whatever had cursed her was making it hard to see. Her hooves felt numb when they brushed the floor, and when she bumped into the wall, she knew it more from her inability to move than from an actual physical sensation. Even her normally impeccable sense of time had gone haywire; she had no idea what day it was, much less what hour. Her hearing still worked, more or less, but that wasn’t helping. She could hear the ponies in a nearby street, businesses selling everything from sofas to quills, and, nearby, the breaths and hoofsteps of a few pacing ponies who were probably (not that it mattered, she couldn’t help but think) the ones holding her captive.

In the distance, from what had to be the castle park, she heard a nightingale trill. It reminded her a bit of Lyra; one of her songs, the Sonata for Birds, had been designed to imitate the gorgeous voices of the songbirds that Luna kept in her castle.

Lyra? She isn’t here, is she? She won’t bail you out of this one. She finally sees the real you, and decided that you weren’t worth it anymore.

A single moment passed.

And Octavia thought, No.

Octavia Philharmonica was not an Element. She could not use Elemental magic. But Lyra could. The lyrist was the Element of Loyalty, and that didn’t only matter when she was trying to take down some huge, unstoppable monster like the Tyrant Sun. It affected and colored all that she did. One could know of her loyalty, her devotion to her friends, without ever having known or met Corona. And Octavia, who knew Lyra better than most, knew this well.

Octavia could not muster the mental energy to run or walk; she could not open her mouth to call the guards; she would be hard-pressed, at that moment, to remember her own name. But she did know one thing: Lyra Heartstrings would not betray her. Her loyalty had been demonstrated so often over their time together, especially the past few days, that any thought to the contrary was self-evidently false. If Lyra knew where she was, she would be there. She would be there and would help Octavia however she could. That was all there was to it.

She would say, Octavia managed to think, That I should get up and walk away. I would say that I cannot. She would help me. She would play one of her songs… And she could practically hear it. Lyra would play something strong and forceful, something with a driving energy that demanded motion. Something with a strong beat, to help Octavia coordinate her stubbornly resistant legs. And something beautifully musical.

Yes. She could hear it. She, who had trained Lyra relentlessly, could hear exactly what her friend would play to help save her career.

Move, Lyra would have said. Get up. Don’t worry about timing; I’ll handle the coordination. Just move to the beat.

And Octavia, who had spent decades of her life learning how to respond to music, did so. She didn’t need conscious thought to do it. Reacting to music was practically instinctive to the cellist.

The melody increased pace, and Octavia began to trot. Her body and motions were perfectly coordinated with the illusory melody. Lyra, Octavia thought, would be right besides her. No matter how hard the music got, she would keep going, because she was Lyra Heartstrings and she wouldn’t stop until Octavia was safe.

The music driving her, Octavia exited through an arbitrary door and found herself in a side room. Two unicorns were there, one pacing, one focusing on some spell.

The music increased in speed and ferocity again. Octavia broke into a canter, bearing down at the two unicorns. She saw them look up, but she wasn’t really using her eyes. She wasn’t even using her ears. She could hear the music in her mind, and that was what mattered.

The music swelled in volume, a dramatic wave of sound that demanded an equally dramatic response. Octavia swiveled around and bucked. She felt her hooves connect with something hard and horn-like.

And the fuzz in her head vanished.

Conscious thought returned to Octavia, who grasped what had been done to her in a moment. She swiveled around, and saw with satisfaction that both unicorns were staring at her in unabashed terror. The one she had bucked had a nasty bruise – and was her horn cracked? – but her reaction was still more fear than pain.

“I,” hissed Octavia, “Am going to end you.”

And she approached.



“Lyra Heartstrings.”

Lyra didn’t bother to turn. “I told you, I’m not interested, Blueblood.”

“Twenty minutes are left. She can’t even tune up in that time.” Blueblood’s tone was triumphant. “You need help, and despite your insults, I’m still willing to offer it to you.”

“If I was going to make that deal, I’d have made it with Greengrass.”

Lyra couldn’t help but smile at Blueblood’s little choke of indignation. “Well, he seems unwilling to offer it at the moment.”

“I don’t care if there’s only twenty seconds left, she’ll arrive.” Lyra glared at him. “Don’t you have anything better to do?”

“Miss Heartstrings!” cried another pony. Lyra turned to see that it was a journalist. “Do you think Octavia will show up?”

“Did she flake?” called another.

“No,” she said, in a barely-restrained tone. “I mean, yes, she’ll show up, and no, she didn’t flake!”

“Sure you don’t want to duck out before Luna arrives?” She couldn’t even see who said this – some jerk from one of the upper booths. “Maybe she won’t notice that you were involved!”

“No!”

This last shout was loud enough to still other conversation in her vicinity. Lyra blushed, realizing that the other ponies were staring at her.

But now she had to say something. So she said, “For the last time, no. I’m not leaving and I’m not making any deals. Octavia Philharmonica will show up on time and will perform the Symphony for Moon and Sun, to Princess Luna’s satisfaction. That’s all I have to say on the subject.”

There were murmurs at that, but Lyra didn’t care. She stepped away from her seat, approached the stage, and sat on the edge. It was a clear signal; Lyra was waiting for Octavia, and she’d do it in the full view of the Court if that was what it took to demonstrate her sincerity.

Come on, Tavi, she thought, as the Court’s murmuring redoubled. Where are you?



“You will tell me where my cello is, now, or I will stomp you into so many pieces that all Luna’s guards could not reconstruct you!” roared Octavia.

Mirage had lasted a bit longer than Emoter, who was now unconscious in a heap. Still, she wasn’t completely crazy, and she knew that she was beat. “Canterlot Bank! That’s all I know! Tower put your cello there!”

Octavia scowled and bucked Mirage in the head. The mare collapsed in an unconscious heap. “Depraved. I can’t believe I thought I was as bad as ponies like you,” she hissed.

What time was it? She probably hadn’t missed the concert yet, or they’d have let her go. She still had time. She had to get to the bank, and –

As she strode out a side door and into an alley, she almost ran into Heavy Hitter.

Heavy stared at her, then looked over her shoulder at the two unicorns. “Well.” He frowned. “I’m not supposed to hurt you, but given what you just did to two of mine, I think my boss’ll make an exception.” He smirked. “Heavy Hitter. Mercenary.”

Octavia bent her legs slightly, so she could spring faster. “I will crush you.”

Heavy casually bucked the wall next to them, denting the brick-and-metal structure. “Unlikely. Stand down. I’ll go easy on you if you give up trying to escape.”

“I refuse.”

“Fine. I’ll—“

Something raced down the wall, leapt off, and landed right behind Heavy. He began to turn, but the newcomer’s horn glowed a bright white, and when she bucked him, there was a flash, a sizzle, and then a flying earth pony. Octavia winced as Heavy crashed into the wall.

Octavia stared at the burglar. “What are you doing here?”

“You have a concert in fifteen minutes. I came to find you.” The mare – still in that weird uniform that rendered all her features indistinct – seemed to smile. “Of course, you’d half-rescued yourself by the time I got here. Congratulations.”

“Thanks. We need to get to Canterlot Bank—“

Heavy got to his hooves. “Nice try,” he said. He didn’t even sound hurt. “Take a real shot this time!” He charged at the mare.

Octavia began to race at him, but the mare yelled, “No!” as she dodged. “Get to the concert! Lyra needs you!”

“What about you?”

“I did not just rob a bank and beat up one of these losers to see you miss the concert to help me fight this nitwit!” Her horn glowed as she dodged another blow, and Octavia saw her cello case float around the corner. “GO!”

Octavia raced past the two fighters, dodging Heavy’s kick, and hefted her case up onto her back. “I’ll call the guards!”

“Don’t bother. Just run! Hurry!”

Octavia looked at the position of the moon. Fifteen minutes to make a twenty minute walk – and that wasn’t counting set-up or tuning time. Could she make it?

Lyra helped me. Now I need to help her. I will make it in time.

She took off at a dead run.

Next Chapter: Endgame Chorus Estimated time remaining: 38 Minutes
Return to Story Description

Login

Facebook
Login with
Facebook:
FiMFetch