Lyra: Are you gonna eat that?
Bon Bon: Honestly, Lyra...
Lyra: Sorry. But it's just been sitting there, and --
Bon Bon: We just got to Sugarcube Corner five minutes ago. And excuse me if I was a little shocked by how you inhaled yours.
Narrator: Coming here had become a tradition, something the two of them did every weekend. Mr. and Mrs. Cake were some of the best bakers in Ponyville, if not all of Equestria. For ponies who both loved sweets, it was a natural hangout.
Lyra: You think cake and candy are some kind of art form, don't you?
Bon Bon: It's what I make for a living! Of course there's an art to it! And anyway, I've finally gotten a job interview scheduled with the owners, so before we know it, I might even be working here.
Lyra: That's nice. Will we get free cake, then?.
Bon Bon: Anyway, I heard you were invited to play at the Grand Galloping Gala this year. That's quite an honor.
Lyra: Yeah! Can you believe it? I'm not too good with formal events, though.
Bon Bon: I... can't imagine why. Let's hope it doesn't turn out to be a disaster like it was last year. You heard about that, right?
Lyra: I never would have thought Fluttershy had it in her. It's always the quiet ones.
Bon Bon: So, have they told you what pieces you'll be performing? Do you know what you'll be wearing?
Lyra: I dunno, maybe Rarity -- 
Scootaloo: INCOMING!
Narrator: They barely heard the buzz of the scooter approaching before it slammed into the table. Bon-Bon's cake was propelled directly into her face. Lyra attempted unsuccessfully to stifle a laugh.
Applebloom: Scootaloo, are you sure that's gonna be your special talent?
Narrator: Bon-Bon gaped at the three fillies, her face covered in frosting.
Lyra: What can I say? Sometimes it's better to finish quickly. By the way, you've got a little something... Right there.
Scootaloo: Sorry about that, I was going so fast that time! Now I just need to work on my turns...
Lyra: No problem
Bon Bon: Y-yes... No... problem... at... all.
Lyra: Lighten up, they're just kids. Remember what it was like trying to get a cutie mark when you were that age? I don't blame them for trying all this crazy stuff.
Sweetie Belle: Hey, we never asked you how you got your cutie mark! Your talent is music, isn't it?
Lyra: Yeah! Actually, it took me a long time to get my cutie mark. It was back in filly school when I lived in Canterlot. I was one of the last in my class to get mine, you know...
Narrator: Lying awake in bed one night, Heartstrings -- she'd still been calling herself Heartstrings back then -- had heard her parents talking about her.
Cirrus: You know that Heartstrings has been struggling in school...
Dewey Decimal: Some unicorns just take longer to learn magic, that's all. Things will come to her in time.
Cirrus: But what if it doesn't? It's been too long now. No magic, no cutie mark. What if it's all because she's --
Dewey Decimal: Heartstrings is a unicorn. It's that simple. It'll all come in time.
Narrator: Of course, even though she was a filly, Heartstrings knew what they had been talking about. Her mother was a pegasus, but her dad was a unicorn. She had a horn, but she had never been able to use it. The other unicorns in her class had already mastered things like levitation, but she couldn't even lift a feather. She had to agree with her mother. What if she just couldn't learn magic?
Narrator: Her teacher, Indigo Spark, said that it didn't matter. If a pony had a horn, they were a unicorn.
Narrator: There wasn't such a thing as a "half-unicorn," but... This wasn't the only time she had overheard her parents have this same conversation, and she still couldn't focus any power through her horn.
Narrator: Cutie marks and magic were still on Heartstrings' mind the next day in class. They'd been brought to the music room instead of their usual classroom.
Indigo Spark: Today we'll be working with musical instruments. I'd like all of you to pick something out. We're just practicing today, so don't worry about sounding good!
Narrator: Heartstrings tagged along after the rest of her classmates. Would she be any good at this? It looked like there was a tuba... too big... a xylophone... that had a lot of keys, how would she handle that one? There were some drums. Those would be easy.
Indigo Spark: Yes, Bluebelle, that one's called a lyre. It's one of the more difficult instruments. It takes a lot of concentration to focus on moving each string to play even a simple song.
Blue Bell: How does it work?
Indigo Spark: Focus your magic onto each string, and adjust the tension in order to make them vibrate and create sound.
Narrator: Blue Belle had already started, and what came out wasn't exactly music, in the strictest definition. Heartstrings winced at the noise, and turned to look at a cello. Maybe that one would work. No, it was way too big.
Blue Bell: I think I'll take a different one... Something easier.
Narrator: Most of the instruments had already been taken. So much for drums, Heartstrings thought. Wandering around the music room, between other young unicorns who were already trying out their new instruments, Heartstrings finally took a closer look at the lyre. No way, that one would definitely be too hard...
Narrator: Besides, that explanation had made no sense. How were you supposed to create music if you moved each string by itself? If you plucked them in a sequence, moving down the row... It was less a matter of moving each string and more of something moving through them, plucking each one.
Narrator: A few notes played, soft but clear. A few more. It was beginning to sound like a simple melody, nothing too complicated, but musical all the same. Heartstrings closed her eyes, focusing on the notes. Yes, this was how a lyre was meant to be played.
Indigo Spark: My, Heartstrings! You really seem to have a knack for that.
Narrator: Her eyes snapped open. The whole room had gone quiet. She tried to look at the horn on her forehead, and saw the edges of a lime-green glow. It matched the glow surrounding the lyre. She slowly backed away from the lyre, feeling the eyes of everypony in the room watching her.
Indigo Spark: It's nothing to be embarrassed about. That was truly impressive.
Lyra: I, um... I just thought there was probably a different way to play it... Simpler...
Indigo Spark: There's nothing wrong. Now, does everypony have an instrument chosen? Let's begin.
Narration: Heartstrings stared at the golden instrument, and with some effort, managed to get it to float next to her.She was ecstatic. She felt like getting up and running straight home to tell her parents, but class had already started.
Narration: To say the least, her parents were pleased when she returned home that afternoon. Heartstrings thought her mother was going to faint after she saw her daughter's new cutie mark. And she almost did, after hearing a bit of what Heartstrings could do. Her father signed her up for music lessons right away.They were saying she was a prodigy -- maybe she was? Heartstrings didn't really care either way, the excitement of being able to do magic was enough for her.
Narration: It finally looked like Heartstrings was going to grow up into a perfectly normal unicorn.
Sweetie Bell: Is it true what they say about ponies like that? When their parents are two different kinds of ponies, I mean. I know it doesn't happen often, but you're great with magic, Lyra.
Lyra: Who knows? It took some practice, but I'm all right now. And it just goes to show that everybody gets their cutie mark eventually. I'm sure you'll all find yours soon enough.
Bon Bon: You know, when I was about your age, that was the first time I ever learned how to use an oven, and -
Scootaloo: Hey, music might work! Maybe we should try getting our band back together! Come on, Crusaders!
Narrator: The three of them disappeared in a yellow, orange, and white blur.
Bon Bon: Wha - ?I didn't get a chance to tell my cutie mark story! Kids and their short attention spans! ...Lyra!
Narrator: There was a fork hovering in the air in front of Lyra's face, and she was inspecting it with curiosity. She turned at the sound of her name, and the fork dropped to the ground.
Lyra:  Huh?
Bon Bon: Oh... never mind. Let's go home.
Narrator: Music played softly in the distance. A familiar sound in the darkness. Did she know this song? She couldn't name it. Then, a figure. But it wasn't a pony, that much was clear. It was... Yes. Lyra started to move towards it for a better look. The darkness was fading away until she could start to make out the details. She had just a glimpse before -
Narrator: - she hit the bedroom floor with a thud, giving her a rude awakening from the dream. But she still had the image in her mind. Lyra stared up at the ceiling, her back on the floor and her legs sticking straight up in the air. The covers from her bed were still partially draped over her.
Lyra: It... it all makes sense now! How did I not see this before?
Narrator: This had to be documented. Picking herself up off the floor, Lyra raced down the hall and found her journal in the office. Levitating it down from the shelf, she quickly started sketching with the nearest quill she could find.
Bon Bon: Lyra...? I heard a crash, are you alright? What are you doing?
Lyra: They designed it. It's meant for them to play, not us. It all makes so much sense...
Narrator: Bon-Bon shook her head and watched over her roommate's shoulder. Some kind of figure was taking shape. It was holding a lyre in what seemed to be... arms? The shape of the body wasn't one that Bon-Bon had ever seen before. Maybe similar to a baby dragon, like the one that lived with Twilight Sparkle, but the limbs were elongated.
Lyra: The strings are much easier to pluck if you have fingers. I think it's similar to how I play it, actually. What I imagine while I'm doing it, at least. They're too close together to play very well with hooves, and it wouldn't make sense for ponies to design an instrument that could only be played with magic.
Bon Bon: Lyra, is this another one of your theories about those... yawn
Lyra: Humans. Of course. Humans invented lyres. Can you believe it? I've had their work on my flank for years and I never even realized it!
Bon Bon: You're... sure? Yawn You actually think that this was invented by some kind of a... what was it, again?
Lyra: If you knew where to look, you'd realize that humans left their work all over Equestrian civilization. Ponies weren't the first to establish a society. It's all because of humans, and we're just borrowing it.
Narrator: Bon-Bon stared at Lyra, not understanding how anypony could be awake and so energetic at three in the morning. And she was on one of her "human" rants again. Not that Bon-Bon had any idea what a "human" was, but apparently Lyra had a strange obsession with them. Some kind of obscure mythical being that was referenced in some old books. And that's all they were -- a myth. Nopony had ever seen a real human before.
Bon Bon: Just go to bed.
Narrator: Lyra's grin vanished, and she looked back at her drawing. She had put as much detail as she could into the way the hands held the instrument, and the way the fingers moved along each individual string. It all seemed to work so well. There had been less attention to the face and the rest of the body, just a rudimentary torso and legs. Already the details of the dream were fading from her mind.
Narrator: It wasn't the first dream Lyra had about humans - they happened sporadically. Usually in groups. She could expect several more hazy, indistinct dreams over the next few nights. Her journal was filled with as much as she could remember from them.
Lyra: I know humans used to exist... Maybe not anymore. But they were real.
Narrator: She took one last glance at the figure she had drawn, playing a lyre as she herself often did, but this was the right way to play one. The way it had been intended. Then she closed the cover and lifted the book back onto the shelf.
Narrator: For the rest of the night, Lyra couldn't remember if she had any more dreams.
