The Race That Ate Friendships

Chapters

Morning in Ponyville
Asking the friends
The race

Morning in Ponyville

It was still dark when Octavia awoke. This was not unusual for her, she always tried to rise before the sun in order to perform for the dawn. She considered it her own personal tribute to Princess Cadence that she made the effort to admire her sovereign’s skill at crafting each sunrise. However, like many of her habits, her early mornings had started to be worn away by her new life in Ponyville. During the six months she had spent in the small town so far, events like Pinkie’s parties or late night jam sessions with her friends had resulted in her oversleeping and missing the dawning of a new day more frequently than she’d wished. She was going to make sure today was not one of those days.

Stretching Octavia rolled out of bed and quickly carried out her ablutions in the bathroom she shared with her landlady. Looking at herself in the mirror her hyper-critical eye picked up a slight convex curve to her belly that had not been there when she had lived in Canterlot. Curse Bon Bon! Octavia was too polite to refuse all of the treats she offer, plus they, of course, tasted too good to ignore. She turned around and craned her neck to admire her reflection, on the plus side her (slightly) enlarged flanks had been receiving a number of admiring glances from stallions and mares around town. Although she was not currently looking for a suitor she would have been lying to herself if she didn’t admit to enjoying being thought of as an attractive mare.

Returning to her room she opened the door to her small balcony and stepped out. Octavia shivered slightly in the early autumnal chill, a dampness from last night’s rain still hung in the air. Light was just starting to spill over the horizon like golden honey and burst into her sparsely furnished room revealing her few mementos; the picture of her family placed proudly on her bed side table, the prototype sol musica device Medley had created led on the dresser while the mane curler Vinyl had invented for her sat in the corner gathering dust.

Centring herself Octavia positioned her cello and took the bow in one hoof, as the sun poked above the horizon she ran through her repertoire in her head until she found the perfect piece. She took a deep breath and began toplay letting the music be carried on the breeze into the brand new day.

Many miles away in Canterlot Princess Cadence paused in her efforts to raise the sun. She cocked her head as if listening to some distant sound and bowed her head in gratitude.

My little pony...

Ah ah ah...

(My Little Pony)

Friendship sounded so off-key to me.

(My Little Pony)

But now you're here, and now I see...

A loyal backing

Honest melodies!

Songs to share

With loving harmonies!

Joyous dance --

Such a lovely feat --

And magic makes the perfect beat!

You are my little ponies...

Friends make the best music of all!

Having completed the first part of her morning ritual Octavia carefully packed away her instrument, tied back her mane and prepared to leave the house. It was her habit to go jogging in the post dawn hours, normally a lap or two around the town centre, it kept her body in trim strengthening her for the strains of her craft. More recently she had also found that it was a good way to meet the more early rising inhabitants of Ponyville. Since she had discovered the magic of friendship and realised how good it felt to have friends she had been attempting to broaden her social circle. Currently most of the ponies she met of a morning were more acquaintances than true friends but every little helped.

She made her way downstairs to find that her landlady was already up and preparing today's selection of treats to sale.

“Hot chocolate?” asked Bon Bon hoofing a steaming mug of the dark liquid to her tenant.

For a moment Octavia was sorely tempted, the day was chill and the steaming brew would warm her up but was against her carefully balanced diet. For a moment she wavered then shook her head, “Thank you for the offer but I think I shall just partake of herbal tea and porridge this morning,”

“With Milk and Sugar?” asked Bon Bon hopefully.

“With water and a pinch of salt,” corrected Octavia as she began to prepare her meal, “That is how it is traditionally served in Coltland.”

“At least have a dollop of honey. It’s fresh.” The cream mare nodded at a jar nearby.

Octavia considered for a moment, then agreed, she was not made of stone after all, “Very well, but just a small one.”

“So are you off jogging again this morning?” asked Bon Bon as she scooped out a generous helping of the golden substance.

“Yes, is there anything I can get for you while I’m out?”

“No, I’m fine. Are you going to be competing this weekend?”

“Competing in what?” asked Octavia starting on her breakfast.

“The running of the leaves of course. Oh you probably haven't heard of it, it’s a Ponyville tradition.”

“I have not, what is it? Some sort of race?” Octavia looked intrigued.

“It is now a-days. Most cities make it the responsibility of the weather patrol to ensure that all the leaves are removed from the trees by winter but Ponyville’s a small place with lots of trees. Traditionally everypony gets press ganged to help, like for the Winter Wrap Up. How are the preparations for spring going anyway?” Octavia and her fellow element bearers had been invited to provide the musical accompaniment to the event next year.

“We are not as prepared as I hoped, Bluenote has been busy recently and Lyra frequently changes her mind on what we should play, however we still have six months to organise things.”

“Anyway, like the wrap up, it used to take forever to get all the leaves removed and no one had much fun. So when the Mayor get elected a few years ago she decided to make a game of it all. She set up a race through the woods to knock down the leaves. You can just walk the route if you want or you can pay a small entry fee and the first half dozen ponies to complete the course get a prize. Not many raced in the first year but there was quite an audience, then ponies competitive spirit took over and it’s been a hit ever since. The leaves get taken down and everypony enjoys themselves, one of the Mayor’s better ideas.”

“That sounds intriguing,” said Octavia finishing her meal and starting to clean the bowl, “It has been a while since I ran a serious race, I might join up. Have you ever run?” she asked.

“Me? Oh no I have flat hooves but I like to watch. I’m normally somewhere near the finishing line.”

“I may see you there then, good day” Octavia got up and made her way to the door ready for her morning exercise.

After doing a few warm up stretches Octavia began her jog. Although she would sometimes vary her route she normally ran a lap or two around the town centre; from her home through the marketplace, out into the surrounding houses and then back again via the business district. Sometimes she would go out into the surrounding countryside but today seemed too muddy for that.

As she set out she considered Bon Bon’s words, Octavia knew she was a fair athlete and was quite proud of the condition she kept her body in, her occasional treat notwithstanding. As a foal her parents had made her take part in several athletic events and although her special talent had been music she had wondered if she would otherwise have become a professional sportsmare instead. However, it had been many years since she had run in competition she wasn’t sure if she was still capable.

She was broken out of her revelry by the sound of a deep velvet voicesinging to itself, “Che bella cosa e' na jurnata 'e sole, n'aria serena doppo na tempesta!” Surprised she came to a sudden stop and stared at the sounds source, a large red stallion unloading crates of apples from a cart to a stall. Despite his coat colour he managed to redden further at her scrutiny and stopped singing.

“Big Macintosh, there is no need to stop on my behalf,” she had forgotten how beautiful the stallions singing voice was and how self-conscious he was about his talent. “That was from a Neighipolitan opera was it not?”

“Eyup,” replied the shy earth pony, his eyes locked on the ground, to Octavia’s surprise he actually ventured more information, “I’m gonna visit one day.”

“Really?” said Octavia in surprise, “I was not aware that you travelled.”

“I ain't never left Ponyville, Miss.” He matched his gaze with Octavia’s his green eyes sparking, Octavia felt herself tingle and colour a little at the muscular stallions scrutiny, “But you gotta’ have a dream. I’m not my sister, I don’t wanna spend all my life on the farm.”

The grey mare blinked, that was more than she’d ever heard the red stallion say at once before. “Indeed, it is good to have ambition,” she stuttered feeling bashful, “I hope you get to live your dream one day Macintosh. Have a good day.”

“Have a good Mornin’ Miss.” he said as she jogged on past. Octavia felt the need to put a bit more swing in her tail than usual as Big Mac’s eyes followed her.

Octavia continued on her path passing various market stalls and the ponies starting to set them up and then out into the surrounding housing. It was still early and the area was more or less deserted. Maybe she should take part in the race thought Octavia, it was hardly her dream but she should follow Mac’s example and avoid becoming stuck in a rut by trying new things.

Suddenly there was a yell from behind her, “Incoming!” and a white blur passed less than an inch in front of her face before hitting the mailbox of the house she was passing. Her head shot around to find the source of the blur. A grey pegasus in the uniform of the Equestrian postal service hovered in the centre of the street, as Octavia watched she dexterously picked a letter out of her sack with her wing and threw it towards a building where it struck the letter box straight on and vanished into the house.

“Morning Octy,” called Ditzy Doo cheerfully as another letter hit its target dead on, apparently without her noticing. “Sorry about that, I cut it a bit fine.”

“That is all right Ms Doo.”

“I keep telling you to call me Ditzy, Ms Doo is my mother. So how are you doing this fine morning?”

Octavia looked up into the mailmare’s crossed eyes, “I am considering competing in the running of the leaves. Have you ever entered?”

“Naah, that whole speed thing is Dash’s gimmick, we both know that precision is far more important,” she struggled to keep up with the jogging pony while delivering more letters. Octavia slowed to allow the grey pegasus to remain alongside, “But I’ll be proving that at the next Wonderbolts try out, I almost got into the academy last year and I’ve been practicing so hard since them. This year I’m going to prove to that Rainbow show-off who’s best!” her eyes narrowed as she tossed out several more envelopes, one of which bounced off a lamp post before arriving in a post box.

The two mares continued upon their path side by side for a while passing the time with small talk. Dinky was apparently doing well in school and would be taking part in a spelling bee next week while Octavia was considering visiting Canterlot next month to go to a concert where one of her teachers from the academy would be playing.

Eventually they separated when Ditzy and Octavia’s routes diverged. The musician continued to think about the race and also the concert. The tickets would likely be expensive and although her allowance from her parents and her stipend from Princess Cadence allowed her to live quite comfortably she still couldn’t go to events like it as often as she wished to. In addition Bluenote’s birthday was coming up in a few weeks and it would be nice to have her own money to purchase a present for her friend.

As she was considering what to buy the music teacher Octavia met a fellow jogger. Few in the town knew that Ivory Scrolls, the Mayor of Ponyville, was also a keen jogger, she claimed it kept her fit and reduced her stress levels. Octavia had discovered the Mayor’s hobby within a few weeks of arriving in town and they sometimes bumped into each other along their respective routes. The mares cautiously exchanged greetings and ran alongside each other in silence for a while, despite the grey mare’s greater age she had no trouble keeping up with her younger companion. Octavia suspected that Ivory was yet to forgive her for her words and actions leading up to the equinox, hence her silent treatment.

Eventually, Octavia spoke, “I am thinking of taking part in the running of the leaves.”

“That’s good,” grunted the tan mare, “I think the whole town should take part. It was one of my better ideas, it turned an official duty into a game which proved quite popular and was a good vote winner. I take part myself you know, although I don’t normally place, that wouldn’t look right, me organising a race just to win it. Still it wouldn’t hurt to have a local celebrity,” she highlighted the word as if she didn’t quite agree with it, “such as yourself take part. Vinyl Scratch is going to be acting as announcer this year, do you know if any of the other element bearers will be entering?”

Octavia blinked at this news, the DJ had not mentioned anything to her about this. “I do not think so. They haven't said anything about it to me.”

“That’s a shame, well if you get interviewed about the race can you remind the press that I organised it in the first place, there isn’t an election for a while but every little helps. Now I think we part company here, I’ve got a busy day ahead and I need to get a shower before getting to my first meeting. I’ll see you around.” Without a further word the Mayor peeled away from Octavia and headed back towards her house.

The last section of Octavia’s route led her back towards the centre of town and the business district. The streets were starting to fill up with ponies and the grey mare nodded to several acquaintances as she passed. She was starting to get out of breath by the time her home was within sight and briefly wondered how long the running of the leaves was, when she heard her name being called from one of the shops nearby. She turned to see Mr and Mrs Cake opening the doors to Sugarcube corner for the morning. “Can we talk to you for a moment dearie?” the mare of the pair asked.

Cautiously Octavia approached the bakers, she was aware that there existed a rivalry between the Cakes and her landlady over who produced the most delicious sweet treats and she had previously found herself caught in the middle of the two sides. “How can I help you?” she asked jogging on the spot to prevent herself stiffening up.

“We’ve heard that Bon Bon has..” began the lanky stallion.

“..Developed a new type of nougat.” continued his more rotund wife.

“You wouldn’t happen to know...”

“..What the recipe is, would you Dearie?” continued the pair.

“I’m afraid I don’t know anything about cooking.” replied Octavia stiffly.

“Well if you do find out...”

“..We can make it worth your while.” The stallion took the covering off a tray he was holding to reveal a large slab of a brown sugary substance.

Octavia’s eyes grew wide at the sight of Mysore pak a sweet dessert from her hometown allegedly first made there as a tribute to the princess. She inhaled deeply and although it did not smell quite as good as that made by her mother it still made her mouth water and her stomach rumble. “Whe.. Where did you get that?” she asked.

“We’re branching out..” said Mr Cake.

“...Trying more exotic fare, don’t ya know” continued his wife, “Maybe you can taste test it...”

“...If you can tell us more about Bon Bon’s new recipe.”

It was only her lack of any knowledge of Bon Bon’s new creation that prevented Octavia from grabbing the offered delicacy. “I’m afraid I can’t help you, you will have to ask Bon Bon herself. Now I must be going, good morning to you.” With this Octavia stuck her nose in the air, far away from the delicious smell, and began to jog towards her home, maybe faster than she needed to, but she felt the need to put some distance between herself and sugar cube corner in case her will faltered.

By the time she got back to the sweet shop it had opened for business and Bon Bon was busy serving customers. Octavia used her key to enter via the back door and after her cool down exercises had a shower to wash off the perspiration that had accumulated from her exertions. Once refreshed she searched her wardrobe for something to wear. Like the rest of her room it was spartan; a few formal sari were rolled up on a shelf; an unworn winter coat from her mother sat on a hanger but most of the space was taken up by several dozen of her trademark bow ties. She had first started to wear them when her father had given her his at her first recital for luck and since then her collection had grown. She searched for the perfect one for today maybe pink, or green, she shuddered at the polka dotted nightmare Vinyl had given her for the one month anniversary of her arrival in town, before deciding on a classic black.

Now presentable the musician set out again to sign up for the race, as it was organised by the Mayor she assumed that she could enter at the town hall. The long line of ponies reaching out of the door suggested that she was correct. She noticed her friend Lyra stretched in an uncomfortable looking position over a bench near the government building, and went over to greet her.

“Good morning Lyra” said Octavia.

“Morning Octy,”

“What are you doing here?”

“Well I was looking for the perfect place to compose the six hundred and ninety eighth verse of my ballad to my lady love but then I saw all the ponies queuing for the running of the leaves so I thought I’d perform here to see how generous they’re feeling.” She used her magic to remove her lyre from its case and began to tune the strings. “So what brings you here?”

“I am going to sign up for the race.” remembering the conversation with the Mayor previously Octavia asked, “Will you be running?”

“I don’t think so, a race is too pedestrian for me, these things cease to thrill once you’ve fought dark goddesses and ridden kraken.” she waved a dismissive hoof.

“Bon Bon said should would be watching at the finish line,” interjected Octavia with a grin.

Lyra continued without pause, “Still it would be a good chance to show Equestria my physical prowess and athletic skills. I will enter.”

Octavia smiled at her friend’s change of mind. “We should join the queue then,”

Lyra levitated a purse from inside her mane, turned it upside down and shook it, nothing escaped except a starving looking moth. “I might be a bit short for the entry fee.” she explained somewhat sheepishly.

“Don’t worry, I can pay for you,” said Octavia.

“No need, I came here to play anyway, I should be able to scare up some money quickly enough. I have just the song.” The busker leapt onto the bench and used her magic to position her open case on the ground. Then she reared up onto her hind legs and began to strum her Lyre. Interested ponies looked at her from the crowd. Flashing a smile to her audience the green unicorn began tosing.