Dressed in white robes with great pointed white hoods and carrying candles in their forehooves, two columns of batponies fluttered slowly into the Grand Hall of Stars, singing as they came. They scarcely reached the main staircase when the percussion section following them picked up as well: more batponies, hovering in the air, banging cymbals and beating huge drums like a parade band. And then the horns further back joined in, blaring out an anthem that would wake the dead, to say nothing of the sleeping ponies whose rooms had entrance off that hallway.